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Georgiana Darcy was going mad. Preparations for her brother's wedding had been hectic, and she had not had time to think for three months. Tomorrow, however, it would all be over. Tomorrow, Fitzwilliam would be married, and he and Elizabeth would be off for their honeymoon.
Georgiana sat down in her chambers, and sighed. Tomorrow, she would be alone. Except for Mrs. Annesley, whom she could hardly call a friend. It was not that Mrs. Annesley was unkind. No, indeed, she was a very benevolent soul, and Georgiana was glad to know her. It simply was not the same as having a friend nearer her own age.
She thought with a smile of her London neighbours, Mr. Worthy and Mr. Sinclair. They were jolly men, both in their early sixties, late fifties, Georgiana could not tell which, and were very kind and amusing company. Because Mr. Worthy was her godfather, and Mr. Sinclair his best friend, she was very likely to see them while she stayed in London after the wedding. Still, it was not the same.
It had been her own idea to stay in London while Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth journeyed to Pemberley for their honeymoon. She anticipated being quite lonely in the following weeks, but she had no wish to be in the way. Having met Elizabeth's sisters, Georgiana thought her brother's bride-to-be would appreciate the absence of anything sisterly.
She was, however, looking forward to the time when her brother would next visit London, despite the fact that Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth would then begin plans for her coming out.
This was another worry. She was not anticipating her coming out ball. She, unlike her future sisters-in-law, did not enjoy the prospect of a ball. The prospect of dancing with many strange gentlemen--most of them fortune hunters--did not appeal to her, and she feared being a wall-flower.
With another sigh, she rang for her lady's maid, and began to prepare for bed. As Georgiana watched Anita brush her hair in the mirror, there was a knock on the door, and Caroline Bingley entered.
"Dearest Georgiana," that lady sighed, not sparing a glance for Anita. Georgiana resisted the urge to puff out her cheeks in annoyance. Caroline would no doubt remark on the action, and that would not be pleasant, since she was a guest in Mr. Bingley's home.
Georgiana did wonder sometimes, though, whether Caroline was the real mistress and her brother the guest. Though lately, Mr. Bingley had become more assertive. She smiled at the memory of Charles Bingley and Jane Bennet at dinner earlier that evening. They had had eyes only for each other, and it taken every ounce of creativity on Caroline's part to make them pay attention to her. As it was, Charles had only looked her in the eye, said "No." very firmly, then gazed back at Jane. Caroline had spent the rest of the evening sulking, and pretending to be as excited as her sister, Mrs. Hurst, to be moving to London with her.
"Hello, Miss Bingley," Georgiana said faintly, hoping her insistent companion would take the hint and leave.
"Believe me, Georgiana, when I say that I pity you."
"Of course," Georgiana replied absently.
"I could not live with myself if I did not offer to provide companionship during your exile."
"My what?" Georgiana started and turned to Caroline with wide eyes.
"It is simply horrible of Eliza to send you away from your home," Caroline cooed.
"Oh, that," Georgiana said, laughing nervously. "That was all my idea, I assure you. In fact, Elizabeth was quite sincere in her attempts to convince me to go to Pemberley with them."
"It isn't pleasant, is it, to be cast out of your home the minute a countrified girl takes a liking to your brother." Caroline stood behind Georgiana and spoke while looking at her in the mirror.
"I'm sure that would be unpleasant," said Georgiana, "if it had happened." She was careful not to make eye contact with Caroline. "I'm sure many young ladies have taken a liking to my brother, and I am very glad he waited for the right one to come along."
"Indeed!" said Caroline, colouring. She bit her tongue to keep from lashing out at the girl before her. She was certain Georgiana was unaware of any barbs that might be in her speech. Miss Darcy was too much in awe of her to insult her.
But Caroline persisted, having come here to find someone who could sympathize with her view of this marriage. She was determined to find that.
"I don't mean to keep you up all night, Georgiana, so I will only say, you have my heartfelt sympathy. If you find yourself too overcome tomorrow, don't forget that I am there."
Georgiana wrung her hands under the table. She did not want Caroline's sympathy. If she knew anybody was feeling sorry for her, she might be inclined to feel sorry for herself. Self-pity always left her feeling deflated.
She wished she could simply give Caroline a set-down, as she was certain Elizabeth would be able to do. But she could not. She barely managed to whisper an agreement and to nod her head. At this, Caroline was given a false sense of superiority. However, it was not admiration on Georgiana's part that led her to be so afraid to set up Miss Bingley's back, but more of a fear of making an enemy out of anybody.
Tomorrow would be a long day.
She had a dream that night that she was walking down a street of no particular name, in London, with two elderly gentlemen. She could not see their faces, but she knew who they were: Mr. Worthy and Mr. Sinclair. They were talking pleasantly, but Georgiana could not understand the conversation.. Suddenly, she felt herself falling to the ground. Then she heard a smooth, resonant voice say something to her, and the person helped her to her feet.
The dream would not let her see his face, but she was sure it was a man. She felt a strange, warm sensation. The pleasure she was taking in the dream had barely registered in her mind, when she found herself lying awake in bed. Frustrated for having missed what she felt sure would be the best part of the dream, she rolled over and went back to sleep, hoping the vision would reappear before her. It did not. When she woke the next morning, she barely even remembered that she had dreamed anything.
Anita came into the room, and softly crept over to her mistress. She whispered:
"Excuse me, ma'am. It is past time for you to get up."
"Hmm?" Georgiana groaned. "Why? What time is it?" She looked at the clock and groaned. "Anita, it is only nine o'clock. Let me sleep."
"But, ma'am, your brother needs your assistance. Something about the wedding."
Georgiana's eyes flew open. The wedding! She jumped out of bed and, with Anita's help, was downstairs in fifteen minutes.
Once she was in the dining room, she said to her brother,
"Fitzwilliam, what is so important that you made poor Anita drag me out of bed? I am sure she is frightened to death of me now, I snapped at her so dreadfully."
Fitzwilliam Darcy smiled fondly at his sister.
"Don't worry. I'm sure you didn't snap at her too terribly. Now, Georgiana, why is there a funeral arrangement of flowers in the parlor? I thought we were going to have an elegant wedding, not one that was so full of weeds; people who had never sneezed in their lives would suddenly have an allergic fit..." Georgiana interrupted him with,
"But, Fitzwilliam, I'm sure Elizabeth and I only picked out a few flowers.. Quite a small number, I assure you. Why don't you show me what you are so concerned about, instead of shouting at me?"
Darcy softened, "I'm sorry, I seem to be a little over-set this morning. Wedding nerves and all. But look at this!" he exclaimed when they reached the parlor.
Georgiana had to admit there seemed to be a vast number of flowers here. Apparently, the florist had decided to take advantage of the great opportunity a Darcy wedding afforded him. Anything the gardener could possibly pile on was there. Georgiana sneezed as Darcy looked at her somewhat triumphantly.
"I am sorry," she said, after she caught her breath. "I suppose the poor man got carried away. Only a few of these were actually supposed to be here. Now what are we going to do?" She sat down, carefully brushing the wreaths out from under her, and held her head in her hands.
Her brother came to where she was sitting and, taking her hands, helped her to stand.
"Don't worry, Georgie," he said kindly. "We'll just leave the extra ones here, and take the ones we originally wanted with us to Longbourn. At least the misdirection spared us the sight of Mrs. Bennet in a fit of allergies."
"Oh, is she allergic to flowers?"
"I don't know, but I'm sure she would be if she thought it was possible."
"Oh."
Nothing was going well. In the last week, items had been arriving left and right, some of which Georgiana had never even considered ordering. Of course, the swans that had arrived yesterday were delightful, but there was nowhere to put them. And they really were so beautiful. Dismally, Georgiana wondered if she could simply sleep until the whole ordeal was over.
Fortunately, nothing else out of the ordinary happened for the rest of the day -- unless you count the huge wedding ceremony, of course.
As Georgiana watched Mr. Bennet walk Jane and Elizabeth up the aisle, she wondered if she would ever be in that position. Would she ever find a man who was not in love with her fortune more than with her? Would she be able to love him? Or was the incident with Wickham only a sort of fore-warning of things to come--men wanting her fortune trying to get out of the interrogation by her brother? She quickly blinked her eyes to keep the wistful tears from falling. Tears were unlucky at weddings, and the last thing she wanted was to bring misfortune on the new Darcys and Bingleys.
She realized her cousin, Lord Cavendar, was looking at her. When he saw he had her attention he smiled bracingly and, indicating with his eyes the spectacle of his brother, Colonel Fitzwilliam, staring at a beautiful young woman in the pew before them, crossed his eyes at her. She smiled faintly to reward him for his efforts to cheer her up, and quickly looked away. It could not be a good thing to be so obviously unhappy today. She forcefully brought her lips into a smile, and kept them in that happy position until the clergyman pronounced the couples men and wives.
As the carriages pulled away, and Mrs. Bennet loudly proclaimed her joy at having three daughters married, Georgiana finally let the tears flow. This brought more moist eyes to the gathering, as everybody thought of the happy couples going off for happy honeymoons. Miss Bingley came to stand beside her and made certain everyone could see her comforting Mr. Darcy's sister. Elizabeth's younger sisters, Mary and Kitty, also made their way over.
Mary tried to say something useful, "While it is very natural for us all to feel melancholy at this change in our lives, we must bear with equanimity the fact that our siblings are merely taking the natural next step in their lives. It is every person's duty to marry."
While Kitty's words were meant to soothe, they had an even more disturbing effect than Mary's strictures or Caroline's insincerity:
"I don't know why, but I am sadder today than when Lydia eloped with Mr. Wickham."
Georgiana was suddenly very lonely.
Georgiana stayed in Hertfordshire for one more night, after accepting an invitation from the Bennets to dine with them. Mrs. Bennet was obviously trying to force her remaining daughters to form a friendship with Miss Darcy. Georgiana was not normally suspicious of people, but she could scarcely be expected to remain unaware of such a scheme when she had heard Mrs. Bennet admonishing Mary and Kitty in the next room. She knew Kitty had answered her mother somehow, but her voice had been lowered and Georgiana had been unable to hear her words. She smiled as she imagined Mary rolling her eyes.
The next morning she was conveyed to London by her cousins, Lord Cavendar and his brother, Colonel Fitzwilliam. They stayed with her until they could politely take their leave, each being preoccupied with two females they had spied at the wedding. Cavendar went at once to make his proposals to the pretty Miss Julia Monroe, not unhopeful that he would be accepted, while the colonel tried to subtlely ask Georgiana for information about their distant cousin, Lady Laura Lancaster. Georgiana was forced to inform him that she was as unacquainted with this particular relation of theirs as he was, and he left shortly thereafter. Georgiana hoped he would find favour with the lady, if only to return him to some semblance of manners.
Georgiana was kept occupied for the next few weeks trying to avoid Caroline. She could not help entertaining her if she was home when Miss Bingley called. However, this did not stop her from purposely timing her shopping expeditions for the time when she knew Caroline was planning to call. While Georgiana felt guilty for avoiding her so blatantly, she could not help a feeling of relief when she heard that Miss Bingley had removed herself to Bath with her cousins.
Georgiana received a letter from her brother early in December, telling her of his plans to join her in London for Christmas with his wife. It was evident from the number of times it was repeated, that he enjoyed referring to Elizabeth as "my wife." Georgiana smiled, herself, each time she read it. A wife for her brother meant a sister for her.
Georgiana found herself suddenly pressed for time to find the perfect gifts for her brother and sister because of their imminent arrival, which was to take place in only two weeks.
It had become her custom to go each afternoon, with either Mrs. Annesley or Anita as companion, to Bond Street. She woke up one morning, expecting to leave directly after breakfast, and called for Anita. After a few minutes had gone by and Anita did not come, Georgiana jumped out of bed and went to the next chamber, where Anita normally slept. It was empty. Frowning, she tried to remember if she had given the girl a holiday. Not remembering anything of the sort, her mind naturally traveled to the next logical conclusion: Anita must be sick. What if she was downstairs, in the servants' quarters, dying as her mistress slept?
Georgiana blinked quickly. Her dreadful imagination would, of course, jump to the most dramatic possibility. The most practical thing to do, she told herself, would be to inquire of one of the maids where Anita had gone. She did this, and was told that Anita had gone last night to visit her sister at the house next door, and had not been back yet. Georgiana was puzzled by this, since Anita did not usually behave in this manner, but as there was no way to have Anita back in the house promptly, Georgiana was forced to promote Sarah, the chamber maid, to Anita's post.
She was further puzzled to find herself alone for breakfast: Mrs. Annesley usually joined her. As she spread a liberal amount of jam on her scone, Mrs. Annesley came in and alarmed her charge by sinking into her chair and immediately hiding her head in her hands with a faint groan.
"Mrs. Annesley?" Georgiana ventured quietly. "Are you unwell?"
"Yes, I'm afraid I am."
"Oh."
"I know you were looking forward to shopping this afternoon..."
"I can take Anita..." Georgiana stopped as she remembered that Anita could not leave this house, as she had not entered into it all night. "Well, in any case, I suppose I can still go.... That is, unless you wish me to stay here..."
"Of course not. You may go, if you wish."
Georgiana was ready to go by two o'clock. However, simply "being ready" did not seem to be enough to make her take action. It had been nothing to say to herself while she was readying herself, that she could very well venture out of the house by herself. But now that she was actually on the verge of doing just that, she could not bring herself to go. As she paced the front hall, muttering encouragements to herself, there was a knock on the door.
She looked around for a maid to answer the door. Seeing none, she took a deep breath and answered it herself. The callers--for there were two--were shocked to find Miss Darcy answering the door, but quickly removed their hats and bowed gallantly. Georgiana smiled graciously, relieved that it was only Mr. Worthy and Mr. Sinclair.
"Sinclair and I bumped into each other a few minutes ago in Berkeley Square, and thought we'd come to check up on the Darcy children. I see you are well, Georgiana," said Mr. Worthy, smiling. Georgiana smiled and looked down, not knowing what to say. Thankfully, Mr. Worthy was not finished. "But where is your brother? How is he?"
"He is well," said Georgiana, puzzled. "But he has been on his honeymoon for a little over a month...."
"Honeymoon?" Mr. Sinclair was astounded. "When did he get married?"
"I'd say about a month ago, Patrick," said Mr. Worthy dryly.
"How could you not know?" Georgiana said worriedly. "I sent you an invitation to the wedding, didn't I?"
"Oh, you very likely did," Mr. Worthy assured her. "But I have not yet checked my mail. I only just returned to London yesterday. I was visiting my daughter, you see..."
"How is Lady Barrymore?" Georgiana interrupted most politely.
"She is well," Mr. Worthy beamed.
"Were you on your way out?" asked Mr. Sinclair, motioning to her coat and bonnet and reticule and gloves.
"Yes..." Georgiana said hesitantly and glanced at the door.
"Well, then, allow us to accompany you, and you may tell us all about your brother's sudden desire to get leg-shackled."
He offered her his arm and she took it gratefully.
"Don't tell me Lady Catherine was finally able to convince him to marry his cousin," said Mr. Sinclair bluntly as they walked toward Bond Street together. Georgiana had insisted they walk, as it was something she was sure Elizabeth would do.
"No." She giggled, biting her lip. "My sister was formerly Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire."
"Hertfordshire?" Mr. Worthy raised his eyebrows. "Well, well."
"Yes. He accompanied his friend, Mr. Bingley..." she was cut short by a small skirmish across the street, in front of a milliner's shop. Mr. Worthy and Mr. Sinclair also turned their heads to see what had caught their young friend's attention. It appeared as though there was going to be a fight. Two men--one considerably older than the other--were circling each other while hurling abuses. As the crowd around them grew, Georgiana's companions also edged closer to the spectacle, their curiosity overriding their senses of propriety.
The younger man repeatedly swiped his hand across his face, as if wiping something away. When she looked closer, Georgiana thought she spotted blood on his mouth, though she could not be sure.
So the older man already threw the first punch.
From what Georgiana could make out, the younger man had attempted to court the older man's daughter, and was not deemed good enough, as he was a common street urchin while the girl was a gentleman's daughter.
Just as they were removing their coats for the fight, another young man, perhaps slightly younger than the first, emerged from the shop and, raising his eyes to the sky in exasperation, boldly stepped into the path of the charging gentleman and began to speak to the fuming victim of the gentleman's rage. His voice was low, so that nobody could hear what he was saying except his friend. However, judging from his friend's reaction, he was attempting to dissuade him from fighting.
"But 'e insulted me! If it was me what started it, that'd be diff'rent, but..."
He was interrupted by his friend again, who said firmly,
"No fighting. You'll only get yourself in trouble."
Georgiana blinked, surprised that this newcomer's speech did not match his friend's. When she looked at her own friends, she saw that they were as astonished as she. The ladies in the crowd seemed at once disappointed and thankful that there did not promise to be a brawl, after all. However, the enraged father was not so pleased with the interruption. The first youth looked over his companion's shoulder and his eyes widened in alarm. His friend turned around quickly and, seeing the man hurtling towards him, ducked and caught him in his middle, bringing him to the ground. The old gentleman stared up at the youth who had tackled him and blinked at the impertinent smile on the boy's face.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you," he said smoothly. "However, I think it fair to warn you that if you plan to fight every person who sees fit to admire your daughter, you will either have extremely sore knuckles, or your daughter will be wearing mourning very shortly."
An admittedly pretty young lady with dark hair and big eyes ran to where her father was pinned down by a man younger than herself and began screaming. Both young men winced.
"'Faith, Sam," said the second one faintly. He had picked himself up, but was keeping the irate gentleman down by seating himself on that man's stomach. "All this over her?"
The father heard this comment, unfortunately. Angered before by someone's admiration for his daughter, he became equally irate at hearing a distinct lack of admiration.
"Get off me!" he roared.
"Oh, certainly." The young man complied cheerfully, and helped his friend's foe to his feet. Georgiana nearly laughed at the gentleman's chagrin, but quickly checked herself when she realized she had captured the attention of the gentlemanly vagrant. She smiled tentatively, not wanting to appear snobbish, and he nodded curtly before leading his friend away from the scene.
As the young lady was still screaming for help, and for someone to quickly fetch a policeman, Mr. Worthy and Mr. Sinclair abruptly came to the realization that Miss Darcy should be spared as much of the rest of this scene as possible, and both hoped that too much damage had not been done by the violence and vulgarity she had already witnessed.
"We can be thankful that young man stepped in when he did," Mr. Sinclair opined. "That fight could have gotten ugly."
"It was quite ugly enough without violence," said Mr. Worthy. "I'm sorry we did not think to remove ourselves earlier, Georgiana."
"Who was that young man?" she asked abruptly. The two older gentlemen looked at each other and sighed.
"Just another of the many rascals that are slowly taking over the city," said Mr. Sinclair.
"I wouldn't go that far, Patrick," said Mr. Worthy.
"Well, he certainly isn't a gentleman, for all that he does talk like one."
"I don't know," said Georgiana doubtfully. "He could be..."
"If he is a gentleman by birth, which is doubtful," said Mr. Sinclair, "he is certainly not one now."
Georgiana wondered why this was. After all, he had been the one who stopped the fight. However, her respectful fear of age was greater than her desire to make an argument in a stranger's favour, and she kept quiet as they talked on about the possibility of the young man's being a gentleman, and finished her shopping.
At the end of the day, she had been able to find a watch to give to her brother. He already had one, but Georgiana believed that a watch was still the safest thing to give your elder brother. She was much more excited about the gift she had found for Elizabeth. It was a locket with one half of a heart that said "sister" on it. The other half was for herself.
Anita returned late that evening, just as Georgiana was finishing wrapping the things she had bought that afternoon. She looked worn out and worried, and Georgiana thought she knew why.
"Is your sister well?" she asked as she curled the ribbon on the gift she had just finished wrapping. Anita approached nervously, wringing her hands.
"I'm sorry I didn't come back this morning, miss," she said. "Gladys, she was sick, and...."
"Gladys is your sister?" asked Georgiana. She looked up at Anita's bewildered face. Anita only stared back. Wasn't her mistress angry?
"Y-yes." She shifted her weight onto her other foot and tried to explain. "I didn't know at first, that I'd be so long. That's why I didn't ask first."
"You don't have to explain," said Georgiana, with her trademark tentative smile. "Your sister needed you more than I did. Can you hand me that bag?" Anita did as she was told. Georgiana looked up again as she took the bag from Anita and put the girl completely at ease with a friendly grin. Anita could not be afraid of her if she tried. "How is Gladys now?" Georgiana asked.
"She is better."
"Will she need you tomorrow?"
"I don't think so."
"Well, if she does, you don't have to stay here. Sarah can manage very well when you are away."
"Who is this present for?" asked Anita, twirling the ribbon of the previously-wrapped gift around her finger.
"That is for my cousin, Anne," said Georgiana. "I mean, Miss de Bourgh." She bit her lip. She always forgot to refer to her friends and relatives by their formal names when in company.
"Oh," said Anita, screwing up her face. She had not been with the Darcys long, else she would not have been so afraid of Georgiana at the beginning of this interview. However, she had heard of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and she knew that she and Georgiana's brother had recently had a falling-out over his choice of a bride.
Georgiana saw what Anita must be thinking. "The falling-out was between my brother and my aunt, not between me and my cousin. Besides, it is awkward having strained relations between family members."
Anita prudently agreed, and the two girls spent the rest of the evening wrapping gifts.
Three days later, Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth arrived in London. Georgiana was in her room at the time, going over a letter she meant to send with her presents to Anne de Bourgh. She rose when she heard the door open and close, and began to walk toward the stairs. Hearing her brother's voice, she broke into a run, and, flying down the stairs, threw herself into his arms. Her greeting was at once affectionate and nonsensical, for the sight of them together quite overpowered her and she could not string two words of sense together. Most of her words were directed towards her brother, for although Georgiana and Elizabeth had spent most of the time during the engagement becoming acquainted with each other, it had been almost a month since they had seen each other, and much of the ease Georgiana had felt with her sister-in-law had since worn off.
Finally, Mr. Darcy interrupted his sister with,
"Very well, Georgiana. I'm happy to see you too. But you must not be afraid of Elizabeth."
Elizabeth laughed, embracing her new sister and kissing her fondly on the cheek. Georgiana took advantage of the embrace to bring her blushes under subjection. She looked up again, determined to be bold, and said,
"I forgot to tell you, but I went to Bond Street the other day and came across the most precious hat in one of the shops, I simply had to buy it. But on further inspection, I decided I have enough hats already, so I am sending it to Anne. I hope that is all right?"
Despite her assertion to Anita that the disagreement between Darcy and Lady Catherine had nothing to do with Georgiana or Anne, she was in the habit of asking her brother's opinion on everything. Fortunately, Darcy agreed with her plan, and even proposed, at Elizabeth's prompting, to enclose a postscript in his own hand, together with a monetary present of his own.
"Come into the parlour," said Georgiana, enthusiastically leading them both by the hand. "We must be cozy together. After all, Christmas is only a week away."
Darcy took his wife's hand in his and said that instead he meant to show Elizabeth around the house,
"For I mean her to be as comfortable as possible, so come along, Elizabeth. Let us make you comfortable."
"Yes," said Elizabeth with another laugh. "In more ways than one, I should think."
"But..." said Georgiana, slightly disappointed that they wanted to be by themselves when they only just arrived.
"Don't worry, Georgie," said her brother. "We will have plenty of time to be cozy later."
As it happened, there was no time to be "cozy." Before they knew it, Christmas was upon them, and they were forced to entertain their guests. Colonel Fitzwilliam came, bearing news of his betrothal to his fair cousin, Lady Laura Lancaster. Elizabeth's uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, also came to visit, and Georgiana was surprised to find herself far less intimidated by them than she had anticipated.
All the guests arrived on Christmas Eve, and stayed the night. Richard woke them early the next morning, as he had every Christmas morning since he was a boy. After Darcy had scolded him severely for the inconvenience, he very willingly joined in the merriment of the morning. Gifts were distributed first, as that was the only thing on a certain colonel's mind. Georgiana was well-pleased by the reception with which her gifts were met, especially Elizabeth's joyful surprise on opening her half of the locket, and seeing that Georgiana was already wearing her own half. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner expressed their sincere gratitude for the scarves Georgiana had hurriedly bought when she heard, two days before Christmas, that they were coming, and as for her brother, he was, as always, pleased with whatever she found to give him.
Later that day, as they were all gathered in the parlour once again, Colonel Fitzwilliam brought up the subject of Georgiana's debut. Georgiana had been engaged in a discussion with Elizabeth about the advantages of Beethoven over Mozart, but now looked up when she heard her name mentioned. When she discovered what the subject of discussion actually was, she wished she had not heard at all. Of course her extremely-outgoing cousin Richard would look forward to such an ordeal, but she could not. She was relieved to find her brother was as reluctant to push her into Society as she was.
"Georgiana is only sixteen," said Darcy stubbornly. "I think she may very safely remain unwed for the time being."
"I am in no hurry to be married," Georgiana ventured quietly.
"But marriage is not the only aim of a debutante."
"Don't be ridiculous, Richard," said Darcy. "What else does a debutante have in mind, but marriage?"
Richard blinked, apparently stumped.
"Avoidance of marriage?" he supplied. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner laughed while Darcy rolled his eyes and Georgiana smiled warily.
"This can be solved very simply," said Elizabeth. "Georgiana, do you wish to come out next year?"
Georgiana looked at her brother and cousin, trying to gauge how they wished her to respond. However, this was of no help to her, because she knew that one wished she would do one thing, while the other hoped she'd choose the other. She was forced to decide for herself.
"No, I don't," she said, and instantly experienced a feeling of both relief and panic at having spoken her mind. To bolster her courage, she repeated herself. "I would much rather stay here, or at Pemberley." She smiled now, very pleased with herself, and relieved to find that her cousin was not angry with her. Why had she been so afraid before? There was no reason to be afraid.
The conversation soon turned to their cousin David's courtship of Julia Monroe. Richard said that he expected to hear an announcement of impending marriage in the next letter he received from Scotland. Darcy and Elizabeth commented on the fact that the Fitzwilliam brothers had both chosen wives for themselves, on exactly the same day, at exactly the same time: their own wedding day.
As Georgiana thought about the different couples surrounding her, her mind drifted - not for the first time - to the young man she had seen a little over a week ago. Was it already a week ago? She remembered every detail as if it was yesterday, and although she knew she could not seriously hope to see him again, she could not stop herself from allowing her mind to wander in that direction.
The only man she had ever been inclined toward romantically had been George Wickham, and comparisons were inevitable. She had been severely disappointed in Wickham: not only had he reneged on his agreement to marry her as soon as her brother had appeared, as much as admitting he had only been after her fortune, but he had been trapped into marriage with an extremely silly girl the very next year. That summer at Ramsgate, he had been everything that was charming and earnest. The boy in Bond Street had seemed to have both of those traits. Though she did not consider herself much of a judge of character, after being so cruelly deceived by Wickham, she could not think that he would play anyone as false as George had played her.
Georgiana could not decide whether to think of him as a boy or a man - when she had asked Mr. Worthy how old he thought he had been, that gentleman had said he did not think he could have been older than twenty, though his fighting abilities seemed to suggest he was older. But that meant little or nothing these days, he had lamented. However, as most people considered "twenty, more or less" to be still a boy, to the sixteen-year-old Miss Darcy, he was a man.
Wickham had kissed her once, the day he finally convinced her to elope with him. She blushed at the remembrance, and quickly hid her face lest someone in the room should see. It was not a pleasant memory, however. She could not believe she had so lost herself as to allow that man to kiss her. Certainly it had been pleasant at the time, or so she had thought, but by now she had decided that he had been entirely too forward and harsh, to say nothing of the way his fingers had bruised her face. The marks had not been very noticeable, and nobody had commented on them, but Georgiana had felt the imprint of his hands for days afterwards. At first she had thought it was a sign of love, but she could not think of it now without a shudder.
She had not realized, until she had observed her brother and Elizabeth a few times, that kissing could be any different. Now she wondered how the "Bond Street Boy," as she had now dubbed him, would kiss. It was really a ridiculous thing to wonder about, she chided herself. Of all the foolish, romantic, schoolgirl notions! To be day-dreaming about a man she had only glimpsed once! Nonsense! She should pay more attention to what Fitzwilliam and Richard were saying.
After two minutes of paying close attention, she realized they were talking about Napoleon, and lost interest. Elizabeth was talking to her aunt and uncle about some mutual acquaintances in Hertfordshire, whom Georgiana did not know. Georgiana felt herself lapsing into a daydream again.
She had to admit the two were similar in appearance: they were both dark and handsome. There were some differences, of course. Her last memory of Wickham was his cruel smile as he bowed his farewell and stalked off to "speak" with her brother. She had only seen the boy once: when he was helping his friend out of trouble. Wickham always seemed to be in good looks. Almost too good. Even when Georgiana had supposed herself to be in love with him, she had thought that his style was a bit dandified. Every word he spoke had been calculated to please.
While the boy was certainly thin and ragged--not to mention dirty--Georgiana decided that she approved of him more than Wickham, though she admitted that was no great feat in itself. He was certainly not born in London: that much was clear just from hearing him talk. His accent had just a hint of French in it. A man of mystery! Georgiana nearly giggled and bent her mind purposely towards the absurd now, tired of making excuses for her daydreams.
Perhaps he was an escapee from the Revolution. No, he was too young for that, assuming Mr. Worthy had guessed correctly. Perhaps he had been friend to Napoleon, but had fallen into disfavour, and was forced to take refuge in England. Or perhaps he was a spy, pretending to fall in with the rabble of London and protect his "friends" from irascible gentleman. Georgiana sensed she could not go further without bursting into laughter, so she tried more diligently to attend to the conversations around her. This was made easier when she heard the name "Wickham" uttered in an undertone by her brother. What was he doing as a subject of conversation? Certainly she had been thinking about him just now, but Fitzwilliam could not tell that merely by looking at her, could he? This thought alarmed her, and she started visibly. Richard was obliged to inquire if she was well.
"Yes, quite well," she said quickly.
"Your brother, I fear," Richard explained playfully, "is inclined to lock you in your room at Pemberley until you are deemed able to choose a husband for yourself, or he dies, whichever comes first."
Georgiana narrowed her eyes at her brother, seriously displeased that he could hold such a thing against her. Darcy rolled his eyes indulgently and smiled.
"I can't see why you are so anxious to marry Georgiana off tonight," he said. "It seems to be the only thing you can think of."
"Well, as you know, Darcy," Richard retorted, "when one is fortunate enough to fall in love and get married, one wishes for the same fortune to fall on one's loved ones."
It took a few moments for Georgiana to sort out all the vague pronouns her cousin had used.
"Georgiana is simply too young at present."
"And you want to keep her to yourself," said Richard disgustedly. "I'm sure you should shoot the first person who had the audacity to ask for her hand."
Georgiana's eyes widened in alarm. Surely she would be allowed to have a say in the matter. Her brother would not hold such a foolish mistake, over a year old, against her.
Darcy stared at his cousin.
"Not the first one, surely."
"Of course not," said Richard. "I had almost forgotten. However..."
"Do you know," said Elizabeth, "I don't think my aunt and uncle have had the pleasure of hearing Georgiana play her new music yet." Darcy looked gratefully at her as Mrs. Gardiner took her cue and began begging Georgiana to do them the honour of performing on the pianoforte. Elizabeth smiled back, thankful that she had remembered just in time the damaging effects the colonel's tongue could have sometimes, particularly when he did not mean it.
Richard looked properly abashed at having nearly blurted out the entire Wickham affair in front of two near-strangers. He was painfully unaware that Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner already knew the whole, and that the main reason for keeping quiet at this time was to spare Georgiana's feelings.
Meanwhile, all Georgiana could think about was the threat of her brother standing with a shotgun outside the house, daring anybody to offer for his little sister's hand in marriage. How humiliating! It might be convenient to hide behind her brother, if she was courted by somebody she did not like.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I must refuse your generous offer, for my brother refuses to let me marry. What? I'm over twenty-one? Well..... I must still listen to my brother! So go away, you... I mean, please, leave me to wallow in my sorrow!"
Yes, that might be convenient.
But what if somebody came along that she did like? Would Fitzwilliam prevent her from marrying then? Would he threaten the poor man? No, of course he would not do anything so scandalous. However, she could not help thinking his expression had been murderous when Richard had broached the subject of her marriage. She hoped she would not be the cause of anybody's being killed or wounded.
No sooner had Mrs. Gardiner finally succeeded in bringing Georgiana to the instrument, than the entire notion of her brother being murderously opposed to her marriage was dropped. She loved to play, and though she was not comfortable performing to strangers, she was soon able to forget everybody else in the room. She blocked them out, focusing on the instrument before her, and her fingers on it. Soon, even that faded away, and the only sensation she felt was that of falling, and a handsome youth reaching out a hand to help her up.
Darcy and Elizabeth decided that they would return to Pemberley, with Georgiana, the day after Boxing Day. Richard quipped that they might as well leave when their servants were the most likely to remember them with fondness, but Darcy insisted that had nothing to do with his decision.
Richard and the Gardiners left early on the twenty-sixth, and that afternoon Darcy gave the envelopes with the Christmas bonuses to Georgiana to distribute among the servants. She had been allowed this office since she was a young child. Her father had been aware that all the people in the household were as taken by the pretty child as he was, himself, and it had become one of the things she most looked forward to about the holidays.
However, when they had all lined up to receive their gifts, Georgiana noticed that Anita was missing. It was Sarah who told her in a whisper that Anita had gone next door again.
Georgiana was a bit miffed that Anita had not told her where she was going, but this feeling soon wore off. When she realized that Anita might not come back until late, and by then she might have forgotten to give the girl her present, she decided that she should go next door, herself, and deliver it there. As Mrs. Annesley had been allowed a holiday to visit her family, Elizabeth volunteered to accompany Georgiana.
At the splendid house that stood next door to her husband's--hers--Elizabeth tried to hide her awe. Georgiana giggled involuntarily at the way her new sister's eyes widened as they approached the front door. Elizabeth smiled ruefully.
"I fear I must be as transparent as glass," she said. "Who lives here?"
"I don't know," Georgiana confessed. "I haven't stayed a long time in London since I was a little girl. There was a family living here, I forget their name, then, but I have not seen any of them in years, though the servants are still here to keep up the house."
"A family?" Elizabeth pressed for details. "Were you friends with any of them?"
Georgiana blushed.
"No, I'm afraid I was never much for talking to strangers. Sometimes my father would stop the mother or father while we were walking, and I would stare at the children and they at me while our parents conversed, but that is all. If they attempted to talk to me, I don't remember."
"Were they as fearful of talking to strangers as you were, then?" Elizabeth teased. "That is unfortunate. But it is too bad they are not here. I should like to meet the people who own this house."
"Perhaps they will come back for the Season next year," Georgiana suggested hopefully as the door was opened by a formidable butler. When she informed him that she was seeking her lady's maid, he opened the door wider and allowed the two ladies to enter. They were astonished when Anita flew down the stairs, coming to a stop right in front of them. Her eyes widened to alarming proportions.
"Miss Darcy!" she exclaimed, then gulped. "I...I mean...my sister...."
"Is Gladys sick?" asked Elizabeth as Georgiana's face turned red, whether from embarrassment or anger was uncertain.
"Yes!" said Anita gratefully. "That is, she was, but now she's well enough to shout at me, sad to say." She cast a reproachful glare up the stairs as the butler sniffed. "Honest, miss, I meant to come back right away."
Georgiana thrust the envelope at her and Anita looked down in wonder at the sight of her own name spread generously across the front. Georgiana stood stiffly, waiting for Anita to take it, and was astonished to see the girl burst into tears. She began to babble incoherently about her sister and how sorry she was. Elizabeth handed her a handkerchief and kindly but firmly told her to stop her wailing, as it did absolutely no good. Georgiana looked helplessly at the butler, who only sniffed disdainfully one more time and walked away. Elizabeth called him back and commanded him to tell her if there was a sickly maid in the house.
"No, ma'am," he said proudly, drawing himself up to his full height. "All of us are in good health, and likewise do a good job."
"Is there a maid named Gladys?" asked Elizabeth. He said there was, and offered to fetch her. Elizabeth declined this offer and turned to Anita.
"Why have you been coming here, Anita?" she asked sternly. Anita hung her head and admitted that she had been here to visit a certain footman with whom she was in love.
"A f-footman?" said Georgiana, in shock. Anita nodded.
"Spencer," she said dreamily. Georgiana blinked. Anita was in love with a footman named Spencer. Very well, then.
"You could have told me," she said. "I have no objection to servants marrying each other, you know. And you could have received your present with your friends at my house."
"Thank you, miss," said Anita. "I'm right thankful, miss. But Spencer said..."
Georgiana sighed and resigned herself to a long discourse on Spencer's many perfections. Thankfully, the butler came back into the room and Elizabeth interrupted Anita with a question aimed at this man.
"Who lives in this house?"
"Sir Percival Blakeney and his lady own the house, ma'am," the butler answered with a bow.
"Will they be in London for the Season next year?"
"It is hard for me to say, ma'am. I've had no notice to make things ready, but it is not impossible."
Elizabeth thanked him and she and Georgiana took their leave, with their delinquent maid in tow. Anita saw her mistress was interested in her neighbours, and decided to try to shift the focus from her own deceit by rattling on about what she knew of the Blakeneys. In just the short time it took them to walk from one house to the next, Georgiana and Elizabeth learned that Sir Percival and Lady Blakeney had two children, five years apart. Unfortunately, the son had left home some years ago, without any word to his family as to where he had gone, and it was rumoured that the mother and daughter had both gone mad because of this.
"But I don't think I believe it, if I may say so," said Anita confidentially. "If it happened to me, it would not make me mad."
"Yes, certainly," said Georgiana. "And if they went mad, what happened to the father? Why did he not go mad, as well? It is not fair that all gossip talks of the women going mad, while the men remain perfectly sane. What are they trying to say about our minds?"
Elizabeth laughed loudly in surprise while Anita blinked perplexedly.
"I couldn't say, miss," she said cautiously. "But Gustave--that's the kitchen boy--said that Sir Percy was so grieved over his wife and daughter, that he completely forgot to look for his son, and took them off to Italy! Can you imagine?"
"It does not seem very plausible," Georgiana decided. Her imagination, still fresh from dreaming over the "Bond Street Boy," leapt into action. Maybe they had gone to Italy, but grief had nothing to do with the removal. Maybe it was a clue as to why the son had left. Yes, perhaps he--the hero of this particular imagining--had grown frustrated in trying to reach his cold parents: after all, it was peculiar of them to take themselves out of the country when they had no idea what had happened to him.
Or maybe they had sent him to Italy to remove him from the presence of a woman in whom he had a dangerous romantic interest.
Maybe he had been as disgusted by this woman's advances as his family, and had therefore welcomed the plot to make him disappear. And of course his family would have joined him there afterwards.
Or maybe they were none of them in Italy. Maybe they had trotted off to go around the world.... No, for why would the servants put about that ridiculous story, if that was all that had happened?
Maybe they were involved in a plot full of intrigue and secrecy in the war against France.
Perhaps the daughter--a very pretty girl, if her memory served correctly--had tried to elope with Anita's Spencer, and the family had taken her off somewhere until she "recovered." Georgiana felt empathy with this reason, but it did not make it any more plausible. There were much simpler ways to hide an attempted elopement, as she well knew.
Georgiana was forced to give up trying to figure it out by herself, and decided to let the matter rest. She blinked several times and found that she had been so lost in her daydream, she did not realize that they were standing inside her own house now. Elizabeth and Anita were both staring at her. She blushed.
"I was just thinking," she said.
"Yes, I could see that.".
Elizabeth dropped the subject as she and Georgiana made clear to Anita that, though she was not to be thrown out on her ear this time, she must learn to be less secretive in the future. Anita was relieved, but humbled, and immediately ran to compare her present to Sarah's.
"I wonder what happened," Georgiana said as Anita left. "It seems unnatural to me, whatever may have happened."
"What seems unnatural?" Elizabeth asked.
"The Blakeneys," Georgiana sighed. "No matter how I turn it about in my head, I can't help thinking that all the members of that family aren't ... friendly toward each other. How else can you explain it? The fact that they are all absent from their home. The servants blame one person, obviously, but..."
"You don't think it's possible for a family to have problems that are bad enough to effect a separation between members?" Elizabeth asked thoughtfully.
"Well, obviously it is possible," said Georgiana. "In my own family, of course, we have my Aunt Catherine and my brother." She paused, fearing she had offended Elizabeth. To her relief, Lizzy only nodded in agreement. "But I cannot understand it, as much as I have to accept it. I cannot imagine, for instance, being angry with Fitzwilliam enough to stop talking to him."
The Darcys removed to Pemberley the very next day, and Georgiana was glad to be back among the things she had been familiar with all her life. London was exciting, but Pemberley was home.
On New Year's Day, she received a letter from her cousin, Anne de Bourgh.
Dear Georgiana,I hope Fitzwilliam is not adverse to my corresponding with you, but I am writing, not only to thank you for the lovely book of poetry by Lord Byron, but to ask if you would mind if I wrote to you often. I don't wish to offend you, but it has become increasingly difficult to speak to my mother since Fitzwilliam married Miss Bennet, and I never could talk to Mrs. Jenkinson, as I'm sure you are aware, since you despise her almost as much as I do, myself. After all, I cannot help if I have no appetite, can I? But I have digressed, have I not? It is mortifying to think that I cannot even stay on one subject for the space of a paragraph. But the purpose of this letter is not to complain of my mother or Mrs. Jenkinson, but to ask if you would mind keeping a correspondence with me. I long for someone to confide in.
Thank you once again for the book. I have not shown it to Mother, as I heard her lecturing Lady Metcalfe one afternoon about the evils of Byron's poetry. I absolutely adore this volume, and I hope to be able to discuss some of the different verses and lines with you.
Affectionately, Anne
Georgiana was thrilled with this letter, but wondered why Anne would doubt her willingness to write to her. She immediately wrote back, accepting her new role as confidante.
Five days after Anne's letter, Elizabeth's sister, Lydia, suddenly appeared on the doorstep. The fact that she meant to stay with them indefinitely was conveyed by the amount of luggage she carried. Her appearance was haggard, and she looked as though she had been crying. She tried to cover this up by pasting a big smile on her face and speaking only in the most glowing terms of her life since she had last seen her sister. Her attempt at cheerfulness, however, only threw Georgiana into deeper gloom. She had been trying to put Wickham out of her thoughts, and to have his wife suddenly in her house was enough to wear her out.
It did not take long for the Darcys to discover that the young Mrs. Wickham was increasing. Not only was it obvious from her bulging waistline, but she boasted of it quite proudly, saying that she was to be the first of their parents's daughters to give them a grandchild, though she was the youngest.
"And it will be a boy," she proclaimed. "And I will name it George, after his father. Is that not nice? George Wickham the second. Do you think Wickham will like it, Lizzy?"
"I think he will like it very much; it would appeal to his vanity."
"Where is your husband, madam?" asked Darcy.
"Oh, pooh, I don't know," said Lydia with a shrug of her shoulders. "I haven't seen him since I told him of our expected joy."
"I hope you have not come here to find him," said Darcy in all sincerity. If Wickham was to be found anywhere near Pemberley, he would not be responsible for his own actions.
"I see no reason why he should come here," said Lydia, helping herself to more cake. "I would not go where people treated me cruelly."
"Lydia!" said Elizabeth impatiently. Lydia looked wide-eyed at her over her cake.
"What is the matter, Lizzy?" she asked. "I daresay your husband didn't mind."
"Of course not," said Darcy tightly, and stalked out of the room. Georgiana made a move to follow him, but Elizabeth asked her to please stay. She obeyed, but not wanting to keep close company with Mrs. Wickham, took her place at the pianoforte and began playing a loud concerto. Lydia jumped when the first chord was struck, then went on eating her cake. Elizabeth spoke to her sister quietly, so that Georgiana would not hear. By the time the concerto had finished, Lydia looked reluctantly subdued and Elizabeth was silently fuming.
Georgiana excused herself and went to find her brother. He was in his study, writing a letter to Wickham's colonel.
"Why should you want to write to him?" she asked, surprised.
"For the simple reason that Mrs... Elizabeth's sister implied that Wickham is no longer with the regiment. I want to know what happened."
"What do you suppose he will do?"
"I suppose that he will run out of money." Darcy pursed his lips and shook his head. "It didn't take him a year."
Georgiana perceived that her brother would not tell her anything else, and from this perception came to the conclusion that whatever he suspected could not be good. She quickly left the room. Whatever the cause for Wickham's disappearance, it had had the bad effect of bringing his bride to Pemberley.
Georgiana hoped, for her own sake, the visit would be of short duration.
Every day for the past week, he had been coming to this tavern, telling himself that one good hand at cards would put everything right. He would not be unhappy to go back to Lydia, if he had the right funds. The girl was amusing, and it did not hurt that she adored him. But didn't women become unbearable when they were expecting? What would happen to Lydia's pretty figure? He shuddered to think about it, and took comfort in staring at the multitude of women who sashayed past him.
He was so busy dwelling on his misfortunes, that he almost did not notice three men sit themselves down at his table. At first, he was inclined to think they meant mischief. He was vastly relieved, therefore, when one of them began talking to him in the most sympathetic tones about his financial troubles. He listened more and more attentively as they began to speak about a scheme they had concocted, which would make them all rich. The means were a bit dubious, but who was he to nitpick?
"We'd like to offer you a share, Mr. Wickham," one of them said. "But of course, in order to have a share, you have to donate some money."
"I don't have any money..." Wickham frowned in disappointment. He had been building some very pretty dream-castles.
"I'm sure you can find some, for such an opportunity as this, can you not?"
Wickham's eyes gleamed as several ideas popped into his head.
"Yes, I know where to find some money."
Elizabeth smiled at herself in the mirror and sighed happily. She turned sideways and inspected her figure from that angle. It was impossible to detect anything yet. This was good. She wanted to be able to tell Fitzwilliam before he guessed.
Any minute now he would return with their breakfast, which she would try to keep down as best she could. She did not think it would be nearly as romantic or sweet if she failed to digest her food. Her only fear was that he would suddenly treat her like a china doll after he knew. He had told her of his mother's difficulties giving birth, and she knew his deepest fear was that she, or Georgiana, would have the same fate.
She caught her reflection growing wistful, and quickly jerking herself out of her reverie, walked over to the door, ready to welcome her husband in their newly-customary fashion. There was a knock on the door and Elizabeth rushed to open it.
"Hello, dar..." she stopped and blushed when she realized it was only Georgiana. Georgiana tried hard not to smile and came further into the room. Elizabeth replaced the sash around her bathrobe. "What is the matter?" she asked, glancing at the door in bewilderment. Fitzwilliam was usually back by now.
"I only have one question, and I will leave you and my brother in peace. Where is he?"
"He is fetching breakfast. What do you need, Georgiana? Has Anita run away again?"
"No." Georgiana looked down and said hesitantly, "I was wondering if .... I mean, would you mind very much if I were to invite my cousin, Anne de Bourgh, to visit us? Only for a little while. Perhaps for Easter, or even Christmas. I can assure you, she does not feel the same way about you as my aunt. She is actually quite eager to see you again, and...."
Elizabeth stopped her anxious babble.
"I would not mind at all. Christmas is very far away, though."
"Well, yes...."
"Do you think it will take that long to convince Lady Catherine to accept me, or at least appear to?"
"Oh, no," said Georgiana at once. "I would much rather Anne could come for Easter. But I do believe in being prepared, and I suppose it is possible, if my aunt continues to bear a grudge, that Anne may be held back for a very long time. But I do not think it will actually happen."
"I'm glad. I do look forward to seeing Miss de Bourgh again."
Georgiana was equally happy, and almost skipped out of the room, before remembering something else.
"Oh, yes. I had expected to entertain Lord and Lady Danforth this afternoon. Will you and Fitzwilliam be joining us?"
Elizabeth looked startled.
"The Danforths? I did not realize they were coming today. I don't think.... Is it important that I make an appearance?"
Georgiana nodded and grimaced.
"Their purpose in coming is to meet the new Mrs. Darcy. I think I should warn you, though: they're not exactly friendly neighbours."
"Why not?"
Georgiana was about to answer, but stopped when her brother entered the room. He looked quizzically at his sister, than at his wife.
"Georgiana! I didn't expect you here." He looked down at the tiny tray he was carrying. "I hope you have already had breakfast," he added ruefully.
"Oh, I was just talking to Elizabeth about something. I'll leave you two alone now."
"Do you think you could ... warn me a little more later, Georgiana?" asked Elizabeth nervously. "I think I will need as much coaching as possible."
"Of course," Georgiana said happily. She had not expected to be called upon to actually teach Elizabeth anything. "Whenever you're ready. I will be in the drawing room, or with Mrs. Annesley."
After she had gone, Darcy turned to his wife.
"What was all that about?"
"Why didn't you tell me about the Danforths?" she pouted, picking at the food on the tray.
"What about them?"
"That they were coming today, and that they will be watching every move I make, looking for something to point to that will show I married above my station."
"Nonsense. Who told you that?"
"Georgiana. Well, not in those words," she added hastily when she saw the wounded look on his face. "She only said that they are not friendly neighbours, and that they were coming to see the new Mrs. Darcy."
"Well, that is likely true," he said. "But don't worry about them. They are merely old neighbours who like to know everything that is going on. Lady Danforth is likely disappointed that I did not marry their granddaughter, but she will not be impolite."
"It is politeness I fear," Elizabeth said. "Nothing is worse than cold politeness."
"Well, you needn't worry too much," he said, sitting next to her on the bed and kissing her cheek. "In any case, they do not live near enough to be a nuisance."
Elizabeth laughed at the thought of a long trip being undertaken merely to take tea with a newlywed couple.
"I have something to tell you, Will," she said, licking jam off her fingers. "But I am afraid of your reaction."
"That does not sound good," he stated blandly.
"No, it is very good news," she said seriously, but was interrupted by another knock on the door. She looked pitiably at Darcy, who shook his head and went to answer it.
"What is it, Mrs. Reynolds?"
"It is Mrs. Wickham, sir," the lady pursed her lips. "The child is tearing up the breakfast room."
"What?" Elizabeth jumped up and stared at the housekeeper in disbelief. "Why would she do that?"
"Perhaps you had better ask her, yourself, ma'am," said Mrs. Reynolds discreetly. Elizabeth nodded and followed her downstairs, despite Darcy's protestations that she should get dressed first.
Elizabeth found Lydia crying in the breakfast room, her arms on the table and her head in her arms. Several of the chairs had been turned over, there was a pile of eggs in one of the potted plants, and Georgiana sat at the other end of the table, staring at Lydia with her fork lifted halfway to her mouth.
"What happened?" Elizabeth asked quietly, wondering how long Georgiana had been in that position.
"I don't know," said Georgiana, dazed. "She took one look at her plate, burst into tears, and threw it at the plant."
Lydia sobbed something into her arms.
"What was that, Lydia?"
"I don't like eggs!" she wailed.
"Yes, you do, they're your favourite. Were they underdone, perhaps, or was there too much salt?"
"I don't like eggs!" she repeated.
"Well, I'm sure you may have something else, if you want it. Is there anything you would like?"
"Chicken soup!" Lydia sat up and wiped her eyes. "And peaches!"
"Peaches? Lydia...."
"Your cook must have peaches! This is Pemberley! Why can't I have peaches?" She began to wail again. "And I want some celery and beans! And gruel, with an egg!"
"Elizabeth," said Georgiana tentatively, "is she always like this?"
"No!" said Elizabeth, completely bewildered. "Lydia, I thought you didn't like eggs."
"I don't like eggs scrambled!" Lydia stamped her foot. "I want a boiled egg!"
"Just one?" Georgiana offered. Lydia nodded, then shook her head.
"No, four!"
"Lydia, you have to consider. Please, you are not a child anymore."
"Yes, I am! I am, I am, I am, I am!"
"Well, you may be, but you cannot act like it anymore. People expect more of you."
"Nobody cares about me!"
"You don't care about anyone!" Elizabeth countered, on the verge of tears, herself. "You're embarrassing me!"
"I just wanted a nice breakfast," Lydia sobbed.
Darcy came into the room then and looked at each of the ladies in turn, then at the mess. Cautiously, he stood one chair back in its place.
"What is the matter?"
"How can I be a mother? I can't even control my grown-up sister! I'm not ready for this! All of your friends are going to hate me, and it's my own fault! I should have stayed at Longbourn!" Elizabeth buried her head in his shoulder.
"Wickham doesn't love me anymore! I want to go home! I want my mother! She cares about me! Nobody cares about me here! I can't even have breakfast my way!" Lydia buried her head in his other shoulder.
"Well, Brother," said Georgiana, slightly amused in spite of the other women's distress. "It appears you have your hands full."
"What is going on?" Darcy exclaimed, which caused Lydia to sniff, and Elizabeth to wail more loudly. He changed to a softer tone, and placed them in their chairs, attempting to speak rationally to them both at the same time. Elizabeth and Lydia exchanged glances, and within a few minutes, they were complaining to each other of certain things, and Darcy found himself more and more bemused.
"So this is all my fault?" he asked for clarification.
"Oh, no!" said Elizabeth cheerfully. "Only most of it!"
"Well, that is certainly heartening," he muttered. She laughed and kissed him on the cheek.
"I feel so much better now. Thank you for listening. Lydia, would you like some gruel?"
"No!" Lydia scoffed. "Who would want gruel?" She looked at Darcy and modified her tone. "May I have some eggs, please?"
Georgiana quickly excused herself. Mrs. Annesley found her a half hour later, surveying the drawing room critically and making little adjustments here and there.
"Mrs. Annesley," she said when she finally noticed her companion standing there, "are nerves hereditary?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I am worried about Mrs. Darcy. Do you think she might favour her mother more than I thought?"
"I think there is a much more gratifying explanation than that, Georgiana, but it is not my place to tell you. Mrs. Darcy told me she would talk to you later about it. Until then, how would you like to go to Lambton with me? My niece is getting married, and I must find something to wear to her wedding. I should like to have a companion with me."
"But I must prepare for company..." Georgiana said hesitantly, then noted Mrs. Annesley's hands clasped firmly in front of her. "Is it very important that I go?"
"I believe Mrs. Reynolds knows what to do. I think you need to get out of the house for a little while." Georgiana still looked hesitant. "Your brother asked me to distract you for a few hours," Mrs. Annesley confessed, smiling, and Georgiana laughed.
"Very well, I will go with you. But I do not understand why my brother wants me out of the house. It cannot be to be alone with Elizabeth; they have been together nearly every minute since our arrival!"
"There is one more thing I did not tell you," Mrs. Annesley said as she helped Georgiana fasten her bonnet.
"What is that?"
Lydia bounded down the stairs then, rigged charmingly for an expedition out-of-doors. Georgiana looked from her to Mrs. Annesley and whimpered slightly for that lady's benefit.
"Oh, good, you are ready!" Lydia said. "I was afraid I would have to wait for you. This dress is so tight!"
"I did not know Mrs. Wickham was coming with us," said Georgiana.
"Well, of course I am! Lizzy gave me spending money, and I can't spend it by staying home all day, can I? This shall be so much fun! I have not gone shopping with anybody in ages! Wickham never would go with me, though I told him it was the only way he could be sure I wouldn't buy something he didn't like, or that was too expensive."
Mrs. Annesley, seeing Georgiana's face darken, quickly chirped,
"Well, let us be on our way! We must not be too long, or we will miss tea with the Danforths."
"Heaven forbid," Georgiana muttered. She did not know which was worse: spending the afternoon entirely with Lydia, or trying to entertain Lady Danforth.