‘How long have you been here?’ Susan asked.

‘We are newly arrived,’ said Elizabeth.

‘I thought you must be, or I would have seen you before now. It is good to see a familiar face; we have been travelling for months. But more of that later, you have other guests to greet.’

The Wainwrights moved on and Elizabeth and Darcy greeted the rest of their guests.

Once everyone had arrived, Elizabeth was free to join in the conversations. There was much talk of the political situation, and the recent invasion of Venice by the French was spoken of at length with sadness and regret. When the mood seemed in danger of becoming too dark, Elizabeth turned the conversation to art, a subject sure to energise the Italian guests, who were great patrons of all the arts.

The ceilings in the Darcy palazzo were much admired, as were the sculptures and statues which adorned the rooms.

Elizabeth found many of the guests charming and agreeable, but it was when she met Susan by chance in the ladies withdrawing room that she really began to enjoy the evening.

‘I never was more surprised or delighted to hear that you had married Mr Darcy,’ said Susan, as she examined herself in the mirror and patted her hair into place. ‘I am glad that something good came out of poor Papa’s follies. I always thought you would find it difficult to marry anyone in Meryton. You were too clever for the local men, you know. Mr Darcy seems very much in love with you. He can scarcely keep his eyes away from you.’ She separated the curls around her face and wrapped them round her finger one by one to refresh them. ‘And what do you think of my Mr Wainwright?’

‘I like him,’ said Elizabeth.

‘Yes, so do I. I was lucky to find him. I thought I would have to stay with Mama and Papa in boarding houses for the rest of my life, for Papa gambled away all my marriage portion, you know. It was not tied up as tightly as it should have been, and it soon slipped through his fingers. I am only glad that Netherfield is entailed, otherwise he would have gambled that away, too. Mama wanted me to marry Papa’s heir, some distant relation by the name of Mobberley, so that when Papa died I would be able to return home, and of course, she would have been able to return home with me.’

‘That is exactly what Mama wanted me to do,’ said Elizabeth. ‘She wanted me to marry Mr Collins, Papa’s distant relation, and she was very angry when I refused.’

‘Your Papa, I suppose, gave you his support,’ said Susan.

‘Yes, he did. He said that I must be a stranger to one of my parents, for Mama had already declared that she would not see me again if I refused him, and he would not see me again if I accepted!’

‘Dear Mr Bennet! How lucky you are to have such a father, though even he has not been very sensible where saving is concerned. At least we will not have any such problems when we grow older, for we have both had the good fortune to love wealthy men.’

‘And yet you did not marry for money. It is easy to see you love your husband.’

‘You are right. The odious Mobberley is richer than my dear Arthur, but I could never have married him for I have never liked him, but I love my Wainwright very much. Perhaps too much,’ she said mischievously, resting her hand on her stomach. ‘There is already another little Wainwright on the way. To begin with, Wainwright used his discretion so that he would not risk giving me a child whilst we were travelling, but his discretion could only last so long! So now we have to delay our return to England. It is not safe for me to travel over the Alps in my condition, and I have no fancy for a long sea voyage. I am sick very often and I do not want to risk sea sickness in the moments when the other sickness gives me some peace.’

As she spoke, an idea came to Elizabeth. She had thought of many reasons for Darcy avoiding her during their wedding tour, but here was one she had not thought of. He had wanted to show her Europe, knowing she had never been out of England and that there might not be another chance to see it because the political situation was so volatile. He might have then decided it would be a good idea to delay any possibility of her suffering from sickness or other complaints until they returned to England.

If he had not been so restrained, their travelling would have had to be much curtailed if she had become enceinte like Susan, and their flight from the castle would have been difficult indeed. The magnificent journey over the Alps would have been vastly unpleasant for her if she had been suffering from sickness and, moreover, it could have been injurious to her or the child, or both. But they would not be in Europe forever, and besides, Darcy’s restraint might not last for any longer than Mr Wainwright’s! As she went downstairs, she tried to weigh the advantages of it lasting until they returned to England against the pleasures of it breaking whilst they were still in Europe, and it was in a more cheerful frame of mind that she rejoined her guests.

‘You look happy,’ said Darcy, joining her.

‘I am,’ she said with a radiant smile.

He put his arm around her waist and led her to meet some of the more dignified guests, who professed themselves charmed to meet her. The evening was further enlivened by impromptu musical performances, so that it was with great regret that Elizabeth saw the evening come to an end. As the guests left, they expressed their thanks for one of the most agreeable evenings they had spent in a long time, and Susan whispered to Elizabeth as she said goodbye, ‘It was a great success.’

Darcy and Elizabeth watched their guests from the window, seeing them climb into the gondolas that waited for them in the way that carriages would have waited for them in London. Elizabeth laid her head on Darcy’s shoulder and gave a happy sigh as she saw the flotilla of graceful boats gliding away, to the accompaniment of the softly lapping waters of the canal.


***

There were a great many congratulatory calls the next day, and Elizabeth was glad to know that her first party as hostess had been a success. It made her eager to give more such parties when they were back at Pemberley.

After basking in the glow of all the congratulations, she turned her attention to their next engagement, this time an engagement at which they were to be guests. It was to be held by a Venetian friend of Darcy’s. The friend had not been able to attend their own conversazione and Elizabeth was looking forward to meeting him.

‘How exactly did you come to know Giuseppe?’ asked Elizabeth, who was eager to learn more about her husband and about his life.

‘I was walking home from a ball one night when I heard cries and I saw that a young man and woman were being attacked by cutthroats,’ said Darcy. ‘I went to help them, and together the young man and I drove off the assailants. He thanked me and introduced himself, then introduced his sister. They invited me back to their casa where I met the rest of their family. I was welcomed warmly, and they made it their task to show me the city, helping me to see it not as a tourist but as a native. They took me to all the famous sights, but they also took me to the less famous places, and they opened doors for me that would otherwise have remained closed.’

‘Did you not have letters of introduction when you arrived?’ asked Elizabeth.

She knew that this was the custom for young men of social standing on their Grand Tour.

‘Yes, I did, and I had a guide as well, but they could only do so much for me. Giuseppe and Sophia did so much more. They took me to visit the best painters’ workshops and they showed me where the best sculptures could be bought. They taught me how to appreciate art in a way that my tutors had not been able to do. For the Venetians, art is in their blood. It is a part of them, a part of their lives. Giuseppe, who loves all things beautiful, once said to me that, if he was cut, he would not bleed blood, but paint.’

‘Let us hope you never have to put it to the test!’ said Elizabeth.

Darcy grew silent, but then, rousing himself, said, ‘They helped me choose many of the works of art which now adorn Pemberley’s walls. A great number of the paintings in the gallery and most of the sculptures in the hall and elsewhere came from Venice.’

He spoke of his friends so warmly that Elizabeth found herself eager to meet them, but when they were in the gondola the following evening, on their way to the casa, Darcy said, ‘You may find Giuseppe morose at times. Venice’s recent troubles have rendered him gloomy. When Napoleon invaded the city it hurt him deeply, and when the city he loves was then given to the Austrians, as though it was nothing more than a bargaining chip, he felt the insult keenly. Many of the customs and traditions he loves have been stripped away. The great horses that used to decorate the basilica have been taken to Paris, the carnivale is outlawed, and now French banners hang from the windows of the Doge’s palace.’

‘I understand,’ said Elizabeth.

And indeed, she could understand Giuseppe’s feelings at having his beloved home invaded. England had also faced the threat of invasion, and although it was suspended for the moment by the signing of a peace treaty, it might one day return.

When the Darcys arrived at the Deleronte’s casa, Elizabeth found it to be as splendid as any palace on the Grand Canal. The landing stage was brightly lit, and the mooring post was painted with gay colours. There were many more gondolas coming and going, and the Darcy gondola had to wait before it could approach.

Darcy stepped out of the boat first, then offered his hand to Elizabeth and she followed. She was now used to the bobbing of the boat and she could judge its movement towards and away from the landing stage exactly, so that she stepped out at exactly the right time.