Page 102 of Pride and Prejudice Resolutions

"Just a brief call," Darcy said to Elizabeth, finding her in the library—their usual spot. "To ensure you are still willing to brave the lion's den tonight."

Elizabeth abandoned the book she was reading. She wore a morning dress of sprigged muslin and looked fresh and lovely.

"I am willing," she smiled up at him. "Though I hear Lady Catherine has been practicing her glare."

"Let her glare," Darcy said. "Tonight is not about her. It is about the new year. New beginnings."

He stepped closer. He wanted to ask her now. He wanted to get down on his knee right here on the Gardiners' rug and secure his future. But he had a plan. He had a strategy. Midnight. The Matlock Ball. The start of 1812.

"Save me the supper dance," he asked hoarsely.

"You have already claimed it," she reminded him, her eyes soft.

"I am claiming it again. I want no confusion."

"There is no confusion, Fitzwilliam," she whispered. "I am yours for the dance."

And for the rest?he wanted to ask.

Tonight,he promised himself.Tonight.

"Until this evening," he said, bowing over her hand.

"Until this evening."

He left Cheapside with his heart hammering a rhythm against his ribs. The courting was done. The battles were fought. Now, there was only the victory to claim.

Chapter Fifteen: The Resolutions of 1812

The Matlock New Year's Eve Ball was not merely a social gathering. It was a geopolitical event. Matlock House, already a fortress of influence, had been transformed into a glittering palace of light and velvet. The street outside was choked with carriages, the air thick with the shouting of footmen and the anticipation of thetonarriving to judge one another before the calendar turned.

Elizabeth Bennet stood in the foyer, her hand resting lightly on Mr Darcy's arm. She wore a gown of ivory silk, overlaid with silver netting that shimmered like frost, a gift from her uncle. Around her neck hung a simple strand of pearls, and in her hair were woven small white flowers from the Darcy conservatory.

She felt like an impostor. She felt like a queen.

"Breathe," Darcy whispered near her ear. He was devastatingly handsome in formal evening dress, his black coat cutting a sharp silhouette against the gold leaf of the hall. He was holding her arm closer than propriety dictated, providing a silent anchor in the rising tide of society.

"I am breathing," she whispered back. "And calculating the likelihood of Lady Catherine waiting at the top of the stairs with a battalion of dragoons to tackle me down."

"The Earl has stationed Richard near her," Darcy murmured. "He has orders to distract her with anecdotes if she looks like she is about to pounce."

"Your family thinks of everything."

"We try."

They ascended the grand staircase. Ahead of them, Lord Keathley was escorting Jane. She was radiant in frosted blue, her beauty so undeniable that the whispering crowds fell silent asshe passed. Robert looked like a man who had stolen the crown jewels and was daring anyone to ask them back.

Behind them came the Gardiners and Georgiana. Mrs Gardiner walked with a quiet dignity that defied anyone to question her presence. Georgiana, pale but determined, clung to Mrs Gardiner's side, drawing strength from the older woman's calm.

At the top of the stairs stood the Earl and Countess of Matlock, the hosts of the evening.

The great lady was resplendent in diamonds that could have funded a small war. She watched the approach of their party with a sharp, assessing eye. As the whisperers in the ballroom craned their necks to see who the Matlocks would snub, she stepped forward.

She did not offer a polite nod. She did not offer a cool hand.

"Mrs Gardiner!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying clearly over the music. "I am so pleased you could come. I have been dying to ask you about that lace supplier you mentioned on Tuesday. The Earl has been boring me with brandy talk for hours. You must rescue me."

The ballroom let out a collective gasp. The Countess of Matlock was embracing a woman from Cheapside. The social order wobbled, then realigned itself instantly. Ifsheapproved, then the Gardiners were not trade. They wereeccentric, which was perfectly acceptable.