Read Online A Private Performance by Helen Halstead - Free Book Online Page A

whom do you speak?”
    â€œExactly so,” he replied.
    They drew more than one curious pair of eyes. In the autumn, rumours of Darcy’s engagement to a girl of insignificant connections and no fortune had astounded his acquaintances. His fastidiousness was well-known and oft-lamented; yet how susceptible he had proved at last.
    She smiled at the sight of a cluster of people hovering near a lady of middle years. Their facial expressions were calculated to express infinite boredom, but somehow the anxious hope of being noticed betrayed them.
    â€œWho is that lady, Fitzwilliam?” He followed her glance.
    â€œThe Marchioness of Englebury, my love.”
    â€œTruly? That is Lady Englebury?” One of England’s most celebrated characters, a woman of immense intellect and incalculable influence at court, was embodied in a dumpy little form, indifferently adorned.
    â€œA woman of such reputation! She looks so … commonplace.”
    â€œIndeed, yet you picked her out from this crowd.”
    â€œSo I did! I shall tell Papa I saw her. He reads out her bon mots from the newspaper.”
    They danced on. When they spoke, she felt, in the slight lean of his body, a shift of his whole being towards her in total attentiveness. She felt a lifting sensation in her spine, a sudden pride in this man, in his person, and in the exclusiveness of his accessibility. She was learning, too, that her very manner when passing behind him in the dance, in looking away and looking back at him he found immeasurably erotic.
    When the dance ended, a young woman came to the marchioness’s side.
    â€œDear Aunt, there is someone here I would wish you to know. I encountered her at the Foxwells on Tuesday. Will you meet her? She is wondrous witty.”
    â€œAmelia, I am here for nought but to give countenance to your tedious cousin, Cecile. Mere mention of your Foxwells and those other dull friends of Mr. Courtney adds to my torments.” Amelia took her aunt’s arm and pressed close to her side. Her green eyes looked laughingly into her aunt’s face.
    â€œDon’t give me such looks, pray! Amelia, I would that you abandon these wheedling ways.”
    â€œWill you not do me one small favour, Aunt, when I have always striven to please you?”
    â€œHumph!”
    â€œI will read that book you gave me. There!”
    â€œIntroduce her to me then, but be warned, I give her just two minutes of my time.”
    Thus, after she had been in London but three days, Elizabeth met the formidable Marchioness of Englebury. Elizabeth, while fascinatedby this opportunity, had no more expectation from the exchange than the other lady. Yet something about the girl intrigued the marchioness, who saw that, despite her essential vitality, Elizabeth had a way of holding herself still that spoke of fearlessness. She liked the intelligence in the beautiful dark eyes and a promising piquancy around the mouth.
    â€œI am to wish you joy, I believe,” declared the old lady.
    â€œThat is the convention in our present circumstances,” said Elizabeth.
    â€œThen I wish you joy.” Her eyes moved on at last and she nodded up at Darcy. “I hope you will both be very happy.”
    A change in the tempo of the music informed the crowd of the beginning of the next dance. Mr. Whittaker appeared at Elizabeth’s side to claim her as his partner. With the extravagance of his bow, scent wafted out, and he said:
    â€œMy dear Marchioness,
    Tho’ to see you is my heart’s delight,
    I now whisk this lady from your sight.”
    Lady Englebury snorted.
    â€œMrs. Darcy,” she said, “Mrs. Courtney may bring you to see me, one morning, when you find yourself at liberty from your wedding visits.”
    â€œI thank you, ma’am.”
    Â 
    The news of Lady Englebury’s invitation whirled around the room much faster than Mrs. Darcy whirled into the dance with her new partner. Elizabeth knew