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Chapter 17
The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. While Mr. William Collins secretly formed his plan of attack on the lovely Miss Elizabeth, Mr. Jonathan Bennet rallied a counter-attack. He went straight to his father for assistance.
"I will not have Lizzy marry Mr. Collins," he said bluntly.
Mr. Bennet looked up from his book, looking faintly amused. "What did you say, my boy?"
"I said that I will not stand for Lizzy's marrying Mr. Collins."
"Certainly not! Who thinks of such a thing?"
"My mother and the gentleman himself. If my instinct is correct, he will make the offer today."
"Will he indeed!" Mr. Bennet smiled. "Best to let it all play out, Jon. Your sister can take care of herself, and if nothing else, the scene could prove amusing."
"You mean to let him offer for her?" Jonathan said disbelievingly.
"What is it to me whether he offers or not? I am more concerned with Lizzy's answer than Collins's question."
"You know it must be a refusal."
"Naturally. I would expect no less. But will it not be fun to see old Collins taken down a peg or two?"
"But what of Elizabeth's feelings? She cannot like having to refuse him."
"She will do well enough."
Jonathan stared at his father, unable to understand his complacency. "Well, I will not subject her to such humiliation." He stormed out of the room and went to find his cousin. He found Mr. Collins on the verge of chasing Mrs. Bennet and Kitty from the room so that he could speak with Elizabeth alone. Mrs. Bennet was very willingly gathering her belongings when Jonathan entered.
"Mr. Collins! Might I have a word with you?"
Mr. Collins looked surprised. "Oh ... well, I ... I was just..." He gestured vaguely towards Elizabeth, but as he could not seem to find any reasonable excuse for remaining with her, he left with her brother.
When they were alone, Jonathan minced no words.
"Mr. Collins, I believe you mean to make an offer for my sister Elizabeth?"
Again surprised, Mr. Collins answered, "To be sure, cousin, I did have that intention."
"You must think no more of it."
Mr. Collins smiled. "I understand that your parents might perhaps wish the union to be formed as speedily as possible; and while I must confess myself eager as well, I think it is advisable to follow form and custom, and seek the young lady's consent."
Jonathan shook his head. "You misunderstand. An alliance between you and my sister can never take place."
"My dear cousin," Mr. Collins said gravely, "is she unwell? Is there some grievous illness, perhaps of the mind, that she possesses, and I have not been made aware of it?"
"Illness of the mind!" exclaimed Jonathan, enraged. "Never was a falser word spoken! No, sir, the truth of the matter is that she is perfectly sound in her understanding, and therefore will never consent to marry you."
"Not consent? Whatever can you mean? I have your worthy mother's assurance..."
"But you do not have my father's, and I assure you that any such union would never be sanctioned by him."
"Am I to understand, Mr. Jonathan," Mr. Collins said, growing irate, "that I have been misled by your sister's behaviour and your mother's encouragement? I have time and again made clear my preference for Miss Elizabeth, and she has always received my attentions with the most pleasing modesty, but not with any disdain."
"She shuns your company and avoids having any conversation with you. Can you call this encouragement?"
"She has refrained from being in a compromising situation with me, and she speaks only when shi is spoken to. Both are marks of a well-bred lady."
"If you think that Elizabeth speaks only when she is spoken to, you have grossly misunderstood her. She will not speak to you unless she is absolutely required to, and even then does so with great reluctance."
"With great deference," Mr. Collins said haughtily.
At that Jonathan laughed aloud. "Deference! You honestly think that Elizabeth, intelligent as she is, defers to you!"
Mr. Collins, much offended, drew himself up to his full height. "If I correctly understand you, Mr. Jonathan, you have insulted me."
"Well spotted!" Jonathan said acerbically.
"I will not stay within a household in which I have been insulted," Mr. Collins huffed. "By Providence, I will not stay another day!" And turning on his heel, he stormed from the room. Jonathan could not rebuke himself for having renewed a feud. In fact, he rather imagined that his father might thank him for it.
As soon as Collins could no longer be heard, a door flew open and Elizabeth ran from the room, laughing.
"I could not but listen, Jon. Oh, you were marvellous!" She threw her arms around him, and from the hallway, they could hear their mother receiving the news of what he had done. They both grimaced. The next few days, or perhaps weeks or even months, would be long and tiring indeed.
Georgiana stared glumly out the window of the music room at the dull mass of grey that was London. How ardently did she miss Netherfield, and her friends there! One friend in particular, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, was an object of great regret. The first person to treat her as a woman and an equal, rather than a child, Miss Elizabeth - Lizzy - would always be foremost in Georgiana's young heart. She glanced down at the missives she had that afternoon received from her friend and her brother, and was cheered a little. Lizzy's letter, penned, apparently, almost immediately following her own departing note, was sparkling and carefree, with amusing anecdotes and overflowing with affection. There was also, Georgiana saw with great puzzlement, and air of decided concern. What reason Elizabeth could have to worry about her, Georgiana could not see.
She had not yet read her brother's. Opening it with an eager hand, Georgiana saw his familiar, scrupulously correct script. She giggled to think that he could not even write in a disorderly fashion.
My dear Ana,I hope you are well and that you are enjoying yourself tolerably well in London. I know how reluctant you were to leave Netherfield, my dear, but it was indeed for the best. The Netherfield Ball looms every closer - it is tomorrow - and I am horrified at the prospect. You know how I detest balls, dearest, and can therefore well enter into my feelings.
Your friend Miss Bingley desires me to remember her to you. I have done so, and therefore may consider my mission completed. If she continues in her raptures and expressions of affection, you need not know it. I have omitted all but the barest necessity to save you any discomfort. If I were to repeat all that she says in your praise, I would have no room for my own affections and messages.
Miss Elizabeth, whom I saw but briefly in Meryton yesterday, hopes you are well and sends her regards. I daresay you will have a letter from her shortly...
The rest of the letter was hardly worth reporting, but Georgiana saw much to amuse and cheer her in the paragraphs shown above. Her brother's easy dismissal of Miss Bingley's praises she saw with relief; she had often wondered whether he believed her to be sincere and was sometimes overtaken by a paralysing fear that she would be her new sister-in-law. At one time Georgiana might have sat quietly by and let her brother marry whom he chose without attempting to interfere. No more. She had her own ideas about who would make a suitable wife for her brother. She smiled as an idea began to form in her mind, and was beginning to think that she had been reading rather too many novels on the sly when the doorbell was heard.
"Miss Darcy is in the music room, sir," said Hayes, the butler.
"I doubt my cousin will mind if I disrupt her peace for a few moments," came the cheerful voice of her cousin and second guardian, Col. Robert Fitzwilliam. Georgiana's face blossomed into a large smile. Robert was her favourite cousin, even though he did have a habit of teasing her. When she was a child he had caught her sneaking into the kitchen to pilfer some freshly baked gingersnaps. He had never told anyone about it, preferring to laugh at her and call her Ginger, which he said was short for gingersnap.
The door flew open as Robert bypassed the flustered butler, and held out his arms to his cousin. "Well, Ginger, do I not deserve a welcome?"
With a sly smile, Georgiana rose from her seat and curtseyed primly. Laughing, Robert strode into the room, took her by the shoulders, and kissed her soundly on the forehead.
"By Heaven," he said, "if you aren't growing into the most beautiful young lady England has ever seen!" Robert took his cousin by the hand and sat next to her on the divan. "How are you, my dear girl?" he said. "Bored out of your mind?"
"Of course not," Georgiana hastened to assure him. "London is very different from the country, indeed, but you know that does not make it less enjoyable."
"Any news from the back of beyond?"
"Yes, I received two letters today: one from Fitzwilliam and one from Lizzy. Mr. Bingley is to hold a ball...I suppose it was two days ago, according to the postmark. I do so want to know how it went on."
"Well, never fear, I daresay you will see your brother soon enough. Tell me, is this Lizzy you speak of the same person as Fitz's Miss Elizabeth?"
"Lizzy?" Georgiana sat up a little straighter. "He writes about Lizzy?"
"Nothing flowery or poetic - you know Fitz - but she does seem to pop up in his letters with alarming frequency. Just offhand mentions, you know. 'The other day Miss Elizabeth said to me...' 'I saw a hat yesterday that I contemplated buying for Ana; Miss Elizabeth has one much the same.' Do you think it possible that he likes her?"
"Likes her? I certainly hope he does, for she is my closest friend. But do you think that he likes her, Robert? Do you think that perhaps he admires her?"
"It is certainly a possibility." Robert rose and paced the room. "What is she like?"
"Like no one I have ever met," Georgiana said promptly.
Robert gave her a glare. "Not very helpful at all. You begin to sound as vague and abstract as your brother."
"She is ... Elizabeth," Georgiana said, not much more helpfully. "She makes you feel like everyone is equal in her eyes, despite rank, fortune, and age. She does not care about the conventions of the world, but she is polite and well bred, and everything I have ever wished for in a friend. She is utterly charming."
"She sounds it. And does she like Darcy?"
Georgiana's brow furrowed. "I had not thought it really possible for anyone to dislike Fitzwilliam."
Robert's eyes widened. "Then she does not?"
"No...they are not very friendly. They argue quite constantly, and she never agrees with him. I think he is accustomed to people always looking up to him, and Lizzy does not."
"Let me understand you. She does not chase after him. She looks at him and sees a man, not money and position. She disagrees with him. She argues with him."
"Yes."
"Good God," he said quietly. "Is she handsome?"
"Oh, very; and she plays and sings, and does the loveliest needlework."
Robert laughed. "I wonder that he's not madly in love with her, then."
"Do you think he would be, if he had the opportunity?"
"I have not yet seen her, my dear, but if all you say is true, that is a great possibility."
Georgiana fell silent for a moment or two, and then said, "I was just thinking that perhaps I could invite Lizzy to come and see me. I long to see her. And," she added with a little twinkle in her eyes, "when my brother returns to town and sees her so often in the house, who knows what may happen?"
Robert laughed aloud. "You're becoming a right little matchmaker. Indeed, write her."
"Without asking Fitzwilliam?"
"Ginger, you are the mistress of this house. You may invite whomever you like."
"I do not think..."
"Very well. I, as your guardian and protector in the absence of your brother, hereby give you permission to invite your dear friend to the Darcy townhouse. Write her."
Georgiana smiled, went to the desk, reached for a pen and paper, and began to write.
"Now, then, Madame Amour, has this enchanting Miss Elizabeth any sisters you would like to bestow upon me?"
"She has four sisters, but I think the three younger are too young, and Mr. Bingley is rather fond of the elder."
"'Rather fond', eh? Well, well - I suppose I must visit this Hertfordshire myself at some point. It seems Cupid himself runs rampant there. And so there are five daughters in this family?"
"And one son - a Mr. Jonathan Bennet." Georgiana's cheeks reddened slightly at the mention of his name.
"Jonathan Bennet?" Robert smiled. "I thought I recognized the name. An excellent young man."
"You know him?" Georgiana asked, astonished.
"Very well. We second sons move in rather large circles, you know, and Bennet is one of the finest young men I've ever met. How is he?"
"He was well when last I saw him, but I have not seen him these six days."
"Six days?" Robert's eyes suddenly sharpened. "Been counting, have you?"
Georgiana's eyes widened and she blushed a very deep red.
"Has he been trifling with you, Ginger?"
"Oh, no!" Georgiana exclaimed, rising to her feet abruptly. "I only know the number of days because - my brother - he has been gone - and..."
"Rubbish." Robert took her by the shoulders and made her look into his face. "I have seen enough lovesick young people to recognize their symptoms. And you have every single one of them, my dear. Blushing, refusing to meet my eyes, and above all, counting the days you have been apart from him!"
"I like him," Georgiana stammered. "I am sure there is no one who does not. There is nothing more than that - please don't tease me."
"Tease you! My dear girl!" Robert's brow furrowed. "I should never tease you about such a thing. When you were a little girl it was quite different, and I could poke fun at you, but a grown young woman in love deserves more consideration."
"I am not in love with him!" Georgiana protested.
Her cousin studied her face. "No, I daresay you aren't; not yet, anyway. That's as well."
There was a sudden noise in the foyer, and a most unexpected voice was heard.
"How are you and your wife, Hayes?"
"Fitzwilliam!" Georgiana exclaimed, rushing into the front hall with sparkling eyes. Her brother was in the act of handing his butler his gloves and hat when he saw his sister running towards him. She stopped short of throwing herself into his arms and smiled up at him. "I did not expect you home so soon!" she said.
"Neither did I," he sighed, with a tired smile. "But circumstances were such that we had to leave. Mr. Bingley - well, I shall tell you later. Have you a letter to post, my dear?"
"Oh." Georgiana looked down at her letter. "Mr. Hayes, will you be so kind as to make sure this letter goes out at the next post?"
"Of course, miss," Hayes said with a bow.
Darcy took Georgiana's arm and walked into the drawing room with her and his cousin. "At the next post, Ana? A very important letter, I presume."
"Yes..." Georgiana said, biting her lip. "I - I have invited Lizzy to visit for the holidays."
Darcy's face reddened, and then paled. "Invited her - to stay? Ana, did I not tell you..."
"She was very reluctant to invite the young lady without your permission, Fitz," Robert said with a mischievous glint in his eye, "but I assured her that as she is mistress of the house, she may invite whom she likes. She was still hesitant, and so I gave her my express permission, as she seemed to long for her friend to visit."
He was rewarded by a grateful look from Georgiana and a withering glare from Darcy.
"You do not approve?" Georgiana said timidly.
With a weary sigh, Darcy said, "She is very welcome, Ana. I only wish that I had had more notice."
"But she may come, mayn't she?" Georgiana asked eagerly.
"I have not much choice in the matter," Darcy said rather sardonically, "but yes, she may come."
Chapter 18
Mr. Collins had left, as he had promised, the very day he had been, as he believed, so grossly wronged. That alone was a source of great happiness to many people at Longbourn. However, the Bingley party had also left Netherfield the same day, tempering joy with sadness. Elizabeth was convinced that Mr. Bingley would return within a fortnight despite the wishes of his sisters and friend; Jonathan and Jane were less certain.
Longbourn was now no pleasant place to live for Elizabeth. Mr. Collins was gone, and would never bother her again, but her mother was convinced that Elizabeth and Jonathan had both done her a grievous wrong by chasing him away. Having been so certain that in a few months she would have two daughters married, she was mortified that one suitor had been sent away incensed, and the other had disappeared without a moment's notice. Poor Jane could not be blamed for Mr. Bingley's leaving, for she would have got Mr. Bingley if she could, but hardly a more ungrateful child than Elizabeth could be imagined. Elizabeth could be blamed, and blamed she was, constantly and loudly. Jonathan came in for his fair share of lectures as well, and he was in no state of mind to listen to them with any tolerance; any other person would have gotten the sharp end of his tongue, but his mother deserved more consideration, and so he listened to her without interruption, but not without feeling.
Their acquaintance with Mr. Wickham was renewed the about four days after the ball. Jonathan, Elizabeth, Kitty, and Lydia were walking in Meryton, when Mr. Wickham, Mr. Denny, and Mr. Saunderson saw them and greeted them. Lydia and Kitty immediately secured for themselves the attentions of the latter two, leaving Mr. Wickham to entertain Elizabeth and Jon. The subject of the ball was introduced; and Mr. Wickham owned that his primary reasons for avoiding it had been to elude confrontation with Mr. Darcy. Even as Elizabeth's eyes sparkled with respect for him when he spoke of his unwillingness to offend Mr. Bingley, a most agreeable man by all accounts, by losing control of his feelings, Jonathan felt a sudden and inexplicable surge of distrust swell up in his breast. Was not this the very man who had declared that Mr. Darcy struck no fear in him, and that though Mr. Darcy might flee the country, he would stand his ground?
"There was also, I confess," Wickham said softly, in a voice clearly meant for Elizabeth's ears alone, "a rather cowardly desire not to see Miss Darcy again so soon. I fear that seeing her there, under the eye of her brother, and being forbidden to dance with or even talk to her, would be too much for me."
Jealousy replaced distrust, and Jonathan said bitterly, "You need not have feared for your sensibilities, Mr. Wickham. Miss Darcy left for London a few days before the ball, and you would not have seen her in any case."
Wickham sighed. "I told you how it would be," he said, again addressing Elizabeth in that gentle, melancholy tone that was making Jonathan quite hate him. "He packed her away as soon as he laid eyes on me, I am sure of it. Did not want his sister sullied by my presence in the same county."
"What a very high opinion you have of your importance, Mr. Wickham," Jonathan said, rather tartly. "Is it not possible that Miss Darcy went to London of her own accord? Perhaps to see a particular play or hear a concert?"
"If you only knew her brother's character as well as I do, Mr. Bennet," Wickham said heavily.
"I have not known him long; that is true. But I have had occasion to converse with him, and though he is a bit stiff, he seems perfectly rational and well mannered."
"Mr. Darcy can please..."
"...where he chooses. You have said it before. My sister has told me about your - experiences with the Darcy family. Exactly why you told her I have yet to understand."
"Jonathan!" Elizabeth hissed. Jonathan was silenced and waited for Wickham's response. For the briefest instant, Mr. Wickham's gentle features hardened and he gave Jonathan a cold, calculating look, which Elizabeth did not see. Instead of answering him, Mr. Wickham smiled again and turned to Elizabeth, and Jonathan could see, with growing irritation, his duplicity. As he talked gallantly with Elizabeth, never straying from what was correct and respectful, his eyes would continually glance at either Lydia or Jonathan. When he looked at the latter, his eyes had a hard, malignant gleam, and when he looked at Lydia, there was a lewd, hungry expression in them that Jonathan hoped he had imagined.
"And how is your cousin, Mr. Collins?" Wickham asked Elizabeth.
"He was well when he left, sir, and we presume that his journey was a safe one, because he has not written us."
"He has gone then? I was under the impression that he intended a stay of a much greater length."
"Yes," Elizabeth said with a slight blush, "but his plans were altered, and he thought it best to leave immediately - to everyone's satisfaction, I may add."
"Indeed - and relief." There was just such an insinuation in this, and just such a look in his eye, that made Elizabeth's cheeks all the redder. Jonathan ground his teeth and took hold of his sister's arm.
"We must go now," he said gruffly.
"What?" she asked, astonished.
"We are leaving. Good-bye, Mr. Wickham," he said pointedly to the lieutenant, who had made as if to follow him. Wickham's eyes, over Elizabeth's head, flashed with ugly malice, and then he turned walked away. Jonathan collected Kitty and Lydia and told them to run ahead home.
"I do not know what is the matter with you, Jon," Elizabeth said fiercely. "You have never behaved so rudely in your life!"
"Because I have never been so angry in my life," he answered with just as much venom. "How can you stomach that man's falsehoods, Elizabeth?"
"Falsehoods?" she cried. "What are you talking of?"
"You do not believe everything he says about the Darcys, do you?"
"I do. I have been given no reason to think otherwise."
"You have been given no reason to think so very ill of Mr. Darcy, either. Think, Elizabeth. What has he done to deserve this from you, or what has Mr. Wickham done to earn your complete confidence?"
Elizabeth's face turned very red as she searched in her memory for some moment of wickedness in Mr. Darcy's behaviour, or some instance of good in Mr. Wickham's, but to her mortification found that she could think of nothing. She would not let her brother win, however.
"Mr. Wickham possesses such open manners that one feels he must be telling the truth. No one can look so sincere and not be sincere as well."
"You are blind," Jonathan said forcefully. "Treated well by one, and ignored by the other, you have based your decisions entirely upon your own vanity."
"No one has ever doubted my sagacity before," Elizabeth snapped.
"Then it is high time someone did. Look at yourself, Elizabeth! I have never seen you so determined to think ill of someone in all our lives! There is more to this than a few ill humoured words in a drawing room. What the devil is going on?"
Elizabeth turned away, but she was forced to look back and glimpse at her behaviour over the past few weeks, and she did not like what she saw. Before long, Jonathan said.
"Elizabeth, I must tell you that I do not trust Mr. Wickham. In unguarded moments I have seen things in his eyes that he deems it best to hide from ladies, as well he might." Jonathan scuffed the toe of his boot in the dust. "You will say that I am biased, that my - regard for Miss Darcy may cloud my judgment; but believe me when I say that I would do anything to save you or my other sisters from harm. I do not trust Mr. Wickham."
Elizabeth sighed. "I cannot tell you why I was so determined to dislike Mr. Darcy. Perhaps - it is only that he seems to try so hard to dislike me."
At this point they had reached Longbourn, and when they entered the house they found Mrs. Bennet in a state of ecstasy. The cause of this joy was a letter on the table addressed to Miss Elizabeth Bennet from Miss Georgiana Darcy, apparently sent by the fastest post that was not express. What the letter contained nobody could tell, for Mr. Bennet had strenuously opposed his wife's intention of opening it in her daughter's absence, but Elizabeth soon put an end to all suspense, and read the letter aloud.
My dear Lizzy,I hope you are well, and that you enjoyed yourself at Mr. Bingley's ball, which I hope, for his sake, was a great success. In reading over your letter, I find that correspondence is no substitute for your company. If you would be so kind as to come visit me in London, I shall be forever grateful. My brother is the kindest and best of brothers, and my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam... Here Jonathan interrupted, saying, "Fitzwilliam! I did not know they were related!" ...often spoils me quite horribly, but a little feminine companionship would be so welcome. Will you come? I should very much like you to come as soon as possible, and stay through the holidays. Answer as soon as you can, and we shall make arrangements!
Yours,
Georgiana Darcy
Elizabeth felt excitement rise in her. London! With glowing eyes she looked at her father to see what he thought of the matter and, seeing nothing but pleasure for her in his gaze, she turned to her mother.
"Mama, may I go?"
"Of course you must go, child!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. "When such an important lady does you the great favour of asking you to visit, you must accept. There is not a question of it, is there Mr. Bennet?"
"Indeed, no. Write your friend and tell her to expect you - you may decide when to join her."
Beaming, Elizabeth stood to leave the room.
"And a Colonel nearby as well!" Mrs. Bennet said. "You must pack your very best gowns, Lizzy."
"Mama, please, do not match make for me," she said with a laugh.
"But if this Colonel is as handsome as Mr. Darcy, but not quite so proud..."
"Indeed, Mama," Elizabeth said with a smile. "Find me a man with Mr. Darcy's looks, Mr. Bingley's temper, and Mr. Collins's wit, and I shall be the happiest woman in the world!" With a smile she ran off to write her friend.
Jane and Jonathan soon followed her. "When do you intend to go, Lizzy?" Jane asked.
"This letter will take at least three days to reach her, and I must pack - I suppose I cannot leave for a week." Elizabeth sighed and sat at her writing desk. "It seems such a long time to wait. And the holidays in London...I do not suppose I will go out much - the Season will be waning and most of the Londoners will be leaving for their country homes. I think," she said mischievously, "that you will have to go back to Gracechurch Street with the Gardiners after Christmas. And Jon, you must come down as well."
"I shall do my best," he said with a laugh.
"Well, then!" Elizabeth said with a satisfied sigh as she sealed her note to Georgiana. "I am for London, it would seem!"
Chapter 19
The gentle murmur of conversation flowed about the drawing room at Lucas Lodge, every person calmly content with his or her life. There was a sense of satisfaction and serenity that seemed to pervade everything. Within Elizabeth Bennet, however, excitement hummed in her veins. She was to go to London the very next day, and she would be able to see Georgiana again and improve their acquaintance. The prospect of a journey is almost always agreeable, providing that the distance, destination, and company are to one's taste, and although the journey itself may prove to be an unpleasant thing, there is always the pleasure of anticipating it.
Something happened that evening, though, to cheat Elizabeth of that pleasure. When she had informed Mr. Wickham of her the journey she planned to embark on the next day, and her intended hostess, he did not seem quite as pleased as she had thought he would.
"You are going to visit the Darcys, then?" he said, sounding uncomfortable.
"Yes." Elizabeth hesitated, knowing that what she was about to suggest was none of her affair, but she could not stop herself. "Have you any message for me to convey?"
Mr. Wickham looked completely taken aback, and asked, "Why would I have..." He seemed to recover his composure, however, and continued, "I do not think that would be wise. Her brother would never permit our correspondence, and I am afraid that if he found out about it, and he certainly would, that he would oppress his sister even farther."
"I have never thought Mr. Darcy a particularly oppressive guardian," Elizabeth said doubtfully. "He seems to be a most indulgent one."
"Oh ... yes..." Mr. Wickham said haltingly, "but it is not so much her person he oppresses as her mind."
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "Georgiana Darcy has the best developed mind of any young woman I have ever encountered. She may be a little shy of voicing her own opinions, but she does have them, and they are perfectly sound, I assure you."
"Forgive me; I meant to say that he oppresses her spirit. She is a little weak-willed, and will often do anything rather than dare his temper."
"His temper? Surely he does not show it to his sister. If you ask her, he is the most wonderful man in the world. I begin to thin you do not know either of them, if you can speak of them, and especially Georgiana, in such terms as you have tonight."
Mr. Wickham seemed to grow exasperated. "You must not suspect me of slighting her!" he protested. "No one can rate her merits as highly as I do."
"You are mistaken," Elizabeth said rather coldly. "I believe many people rate her merits exactly as you do: according to her fortune."
"You wrong me, Miss Bennet," Mr. Wickham said, sounding deeply hurt. "I have never made a habit of judging people according to their fortunes. Yourself, for example."
Elizabeth paused. "I beg your pardon?"
Mr. Wickham looked about him, as if to insure that no one would overhear him. "If fortunes were determined by the strength of my affections, I believe you would be one of the wealthiest young women in England."
Elizabeth looked up into his face with a blush and a smile, feeling an unfamiliar thrill of pleasure, but just as her eyes met his, she caught a glimpse of something in them - satisfaction and ... triumph? Had he been trifling with her? How could he claim to love, or at the very least feel a strong attachment for, two young women at once?
She had been duped. She could see it quite plainly now. Her head spun in circles; her brain wanted to take in every amount of information and understand it, but now was not the time. For now, she must sail gracefully through the night and remove from Mr. Wickham all his pleasure at having conquered her better judgment.
"You pay a pretty compliment, Mr. Wickham," she said lightly.
"Only to pretty ladies," he said gallantly, but effrontery set her teeth on edge.
"As a man so much in love, and so very disappointed, I am surprised that you can so easily compliment other women," Elizabeth said with a quizzical tilt of her head.
Mr. Wickham smiled. "If I but had some consolation for my loss," he said in a deceptively gentle, unassuming tone, "I daresay I would forget it soon enough."
Elizabeth felt as if the breath had been knocked from her lungs. The innuendo in his words was too deliberate to ignore. Her cheeks began to burn with shame and vexation at his well-concealed but unmistakable proposition, and she turned from him quickly.
"I believe my mother has need of me," she said, and hurried away. Wickham was left to stare after her in considerable irritation.
Stupid! Elizabeth chastised herself. With every violent tug of her brush through her unruly curls, she mentally repeated the epithet. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! To be so completely taken in! To ignore the repeated advice of Jonathan, and the veiled warnings of Mr. Darcy, who by both men's accounts has known him from childhood! Stupid, stupid, stupid! She laid the brush on the dressing table and, resting her chin in her hands, stared thoughtfully into the glass. It was all vanity, insufferable vanity! she scolded silently at her reflection. Jon was right all along. Favoured by one and ignored by the other, I have courted prepossession and ignorance! She threw a retrospective glance over her acquaintance with both men and was disgusted with herself. Mr. Darcy is no Prince Charming, to be sure, but he has never deserved the contempt I directed at him. And Mr. Wickham! What had he done to gain my trust, my affections? What were you thinking, Elizabeth Bennet? You disgust me!
Elizabeth's heart dropped as she realized that the very next day, she would be the houseguest of a man whom she had once irrationally, determinedly hated. Oh, the countless wrongs she had done him in her thoughts! For, now that it was apparent to her that Wickham had been deceiving her in the hope of gaining "consolation," she could not but disbelieve everything he had ever told her.
But what of Georgie? a small voice inside her head asked. You remember what she said at Netherfield. But I may have misunderstood, Elizabeth argued. I will ask her about it when I arrive at London. So determined, Elizabeth prepared for sleep, no less discontented, but a good deal more serene.
Narratives of journeys are infinitely tedious to all but the travellers themselves. It is well known that travellers, when animatedly describing the wonders of their excursions and the fascinating things that happened to them, are really telling the story for their own benefit and the satisfaction of reliving such delights again, as they cannot really expect their listeners to entertain much interest in the subject. With this in mind, I will here gloss over the particulars of Elizabeth's sojourn to London, as nothing noteworthy or fate altering occurred during it. She arrived quite safely on the Darcys' doorstep, and that is all that need concern us at the moment.
Georgiana was delighted to see her friend again, and if Elizabeth had not been so very weary, she would have been able to express as much delight as Georgiana did. As it was, Georgiana talked rather more than she was accustomed to, and a great deal more than either her brother or Elizabeth. After a small supper, Elizabeth excused herself to go to bed, and Georgiana was not long in following her, for her excitement had by then been talked away, and she found herself quite exhausted. Darcy, however, remained in his library, accustoming himself to the idea that a young woman he admired and had determined on forgetting was then in the house, and that he would have much to do to avoid her.
Unbelievable, he thought to himself as he unstopped the brandy bottle and poured himself a glass, that Ana should be so daring as to invite Miss Elizabeth to town when I had told her it would not be advisable. Blast Robert! And blast Miss Elizabeth as well! Here Darcy brought himself up short. Admit it, said a small voice in his head. You are glad to find this new streak in Georgiana. You are GLAD she defies you and make her own judgments. Aren't' you? Of course, he answered himself, but I want her to defy the unjust and unkind ways of the world as a whole, not to defy me in particular! When you adhere to the unjust and unkind rules of the world you want her to defy, you have set yourself up for rebellion. And isn't this notion of Miss Elizabeth being an "unfit" companion rather "tonnish"? Very well, I take it back. Elizabeth's friendship is the best thing that could have happened to her. To us. To ... what? That is another matter I've been wanting to discuss with you - these feelings for Elizabeth...
FEELINGS!?
Wait ... we have feelings for her?
When was I going to learn about this?
How could you not know? We've been fond of her for weeks, and it has only gotten stronger...
But I thought that was ... well ... something else...
Well, that is present as well, of course...
I am always the last to know everything!
Here, to quell the suddenly alarming number of voices sounding in his head, no doubt an effect of the brandy, Darcy emptied his glass and then stormed up to his room in a fit of amazing distemper.
George Wickham stared sourly into his own brandy glass. The Bennet chit had quite a lot of nerve to lead him such a merry dance and then suddenly back away as coldly as if she'd turned to a block of ice. His fingers clutched the glass convulsively in a strong surge of anger.
She had given every appearance of compliance in response to his overtures. Hell, she had thrown quite a few of them his way, herself. A very compelling wench, Elizabeth Bennet was, with those enticing curls and sparkling dark eyes and full, luxurious mouth - not to mention her figure. She had given every indication that she knew of his intentions and welcomed his advances. She had listened so sympathetically when he had told her of his disappointment in Georgiana Darcy. She must have understood his need for consolation. Any woman would understand immediately. And then, when he had tried to bring things to a head, she had turned away, cold and hard as ice.
He ground his teeth, swallowed the last of his brandy, and then threw the glass violently into the fire. She would regret this. They would all regret it.
Chapter 20
Elizabeth woke the next morning very much refreshed. Her weariness had vanished, and in its place was excitement. She had been to London before, of course, but never for so long a time, and certainly not with such important people as the Darcys. She found the breakfast room with very little trouble, and only one whispered consultation with a house-maid.
When she entered the room, Mr. Darcy glanced up from his plate, nodded a greeting, and immediately returned to his breakfast. Georgiana, either not noticing his reticence or not thinking it unusual, said,
"Good morning, Lizzy! I hope you slept well."
"Very well indeed, Georgie," Elizabeth said, choosing a seat next to her friend. "I must apologize for my silence last night. I do not want you to think that I am not glad to be here."
"Oh, I quite understand," Georgiana replied. "It will be so wonderful to have you here! We can walk, and ride in the park, and perhaps go to the theatre - oh, Lizzy, have you ever been ice skating?"
"I am afraid not - I have never learned."
"Then you must learn! You cannot imagine how amusing it is. Fitzwilliam and I will teach you, won't we, Fitzwilliam?"
Mr. Darcy looked at his sister and blinked. "I'm sorry, Ana, what did you say?"
"I said that we will teach Lizzy to skate."
Darcy seemed to be blushing. Elizabeth suppressed a giggle. "I have not been ice skating in so long, my dear..."
"But you can never forget how to ice skate! And you simply must come with us, Fitzwilliam, for we cannot go alone."
"We shall see, Ana," Darcy said with a sigh.
"What would you like to do, Lizzy?"
"Your plans all sound wonderful," Elizabeth said, accepting a plate from a maid. "I defer to your judgment entirely. But do you know," she continued with eyes sparkling, "that there is one thing a woman simply must do while she is in London?"
"What is that?"
"You simply must take me shopping! I am sure you know all the best shops."
"Georgiana," Mr. Darcy said, reviving once more to look rather stern, "you must not forget your studies. I cannot have you frittering away your time..."
"Oh, but Fitzwilliam," Georgiana said, "it is the holidays, and Elizabeth will be here for so short a time! Please allow me to forego my studies for a week or two." For added emphasis, she smiled and placed a hand on his.
Darcy's eyes softened. Elizabeth suppressed another giggle. It seemed Mr. Darcy's one weakness was his younger sister. "Very well," he conceded, "lessons may be postponed until Miss Bennet's stay is completed, but you must still practice your music and your French, or you will forget it all."
"I will!" she promised, and then returned to her guest, who was both amused and touched by how easily Mr. Darcy could be manipulated by his sister. "Shall we go then?" Georgiana asked. Elizabeth smiled and rose. "If you will excuse us, Fitzwilliam," Georgiana said.
Mr. Darcy nodded and smiled. "Try not to spend all of your fortune, Ana," he said affectionately. "Welcome to London, Miss Bennet," he said, speaking to Elizabeth for the first time that morning. He briefly met her eyes and then glanced away quickly. Elizabeth thanked him and followed Georgiana out of the room.
When they were gone, Darcy threw his napkin to the table in disgust with himself. Why could he not frame a logical sentence in Elizabeth Bennet's presence? He had spent the entire meal in near silence, never saying any more than was necessary, and she must think him the dullest man she had ever met. In resignation, he rose from the table with a nod to the servants who waited to clear it, and headed for his study. For a few hours, at least, he would forget about bewitching young women from the country, and concentrate on his duties. After that, he considered a journey to the fencing rooms - they would be an ideal place to work out his frustration with himself.
A few hours later, Elizabeth and Georgiana walked the streets of London, followed by two footmen laden with packages. To Elizabeth's consternation, eyes turned in their direction everywhere they went.
"Why are they so fascinated with us?" Elizabeth asked her friend quietly.
"I do not know many of them," Georgiana said composedly, without returning the curious glances, "but I do know that certain people are regularly seen at certain hours, and I do not often venture out of doors. And, of course, no one knows who you are, so they are naturally curious."
As if to confirm these statements, a young woman suddenly approached them. "My dear Miss Darcy!" she exclaimed. "I declare I never thought to see you here!"
"Well, Miss Clevenger, the call of the London shops was simply irresistible."
"Indeed," was the reply. Miss Clevenger then turned to scrutinize Elizabeth. "I do not believe I have met your companion."
"Of course," Georgiana answered with a smile. "Miss Clevenger, may I present Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Miss Bennet, Miss Clevenger."
"A pleasure indeed," Miss Clevenger said. Her eyes fell to Elizabeth's gown and pelisse, neither of which could be considered the height of London fashion. The smallest flicker of derision appeared in Miss Clevenger's gaze before being hidden by false interest. "You are...new to London, I trust?"
"I arrived only yesterday," Elizabeth said, deliberately avoiding the real purpose behind the question.
"And this is your first visit?"
"By no means," Elizabeth answered, her eyes twinkling in mischief. "I have had occasion to visit London several times - I often visit my aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner of Gracechurch Street."
The disdain in the young lady's countenance was now very poorly hidden. "Gracechurch Street! Indeed! I have never had occasion to visit there. In what part of London is it located?"
Elizabeth gave the impertinent young woman a bland smile. "Near the warehouses in Cheapside," she said indifferently.
Miss Clevenger's smile was now a smirk. "How unfortunate."
"My uncle has never found it so. It is really quite convenient for him to be so near his warehouses. It would be quite senseless to live on the other side of town, would it not?"
"Of course, dear, but I meant that it is unfortunate for you. Such relations..."
"I see what you mean - it is very unfortunate for all of us that many people tend to judge a person by his living quarters in Town rather than by his own merits. I agree that it is, as you so eloquently put it, quite unfortunate, but as long as such shallow people reign in society, I am afraid such injustice will continue. Do you not believe it to be so, Miss Clevenger?"
The unfortunate young lady seemed to be unable to frame a response. She mumbled something that resembled an assent, took leave, and hurried away. When she had gone, Georgiana stared at Elizabeth in admiration.
"However do you do it?" she asked as they continued on their way.
"What do you mean?"
"How do you know exactly what to say to such people? I could not believe that she was so forward! I should have been mortified."
"Soon, Georgie," Elizabeth answered, "you will learn that some people are worth pleasing, and others are not worth the effort it takes to think of them. Miss Clevenger strikes me as one of the latter sort. The key in those situations is to twist their words into something that makes them sound much kinder than they really are. It at once shames and embarrasses them. Then you may go on your way feeling avenged and very clever indeed."
Georgiana giggled and led her to a dress shop owned by a Madame Roucheau. The Darcy women had patronized Mme. Roucheau's shop for years, and the good lady was delighted to see Miss Darcy enter the store.
"Ah! Miss Darcy!" she exclaimed with a rich French accent, which the author will not attempt to recreate. "I have wondered when I would see you here! It has been so long!"
"Too long indeed, Madame," Georgiana agreed. "I am visiting in Town with my brother."
"You are to have a Season?" cried Mme. Roucheau. "Ah! How time passes!"
"I am afraid I will not have a Season until next year, ma'am, but I do intend to enjoy my time in London quite thoroughly!"
"Of course! The play, and the opera, and the musicales - you will need something new, no?"
"That is why I came. I hope, Mme. Roucheau, that you will wait on my friend as well? Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I present Madame Roucheau."
Elizabeth curtsied, while Mme. Roucheau looked her over with a critical eye. "A good form," was the expert's pronouncement, "and such lovely eyes and rich hair. Do you know, Miss Darcy," the lady continued, "that such beauty as this is not at all the fashion, but I do believe we can make it so."
Elizabeth blushed. "I do not wish to storm the ton, Madame."
"Dressed properly, I do not think you would have much choice," Mme. Roucheau said decidedly. "You and Miss Darcy will soon be the talk of London!"
"Your brother will not much like that," Elizabeth whispered to Georgiana, who giggled in agreement.
"Now, then, to business!" exclaimed the dressmaker. "Miss Darcy, there can be little doubt for you - blue has always been your best colour, and with accents of white and gold, you will be angelic. But Miss Bennet is harder to decide." She circled the young woman, who watched her nervously. "Nothing too dark, for it will blend with the hair and make the face too white; yet nothing too light, for the skin will seem too tan. Perhaps a yellow?" She grasped a length of butter yellow muslin and held it against Elizabeth's skin. "No, no, rich colours for such hair as this."
"I had always thought that a dark red would be particularly becoming," Georgiana suggested.
"Yes," murmured Mme. Roucheau. "And perhaps one of deep blue."
"My brother always preferred curry," Elizabeth said uncertainly, not noticing Georgiana's blush at the mention of Jonathan.
"Curry!" scoffed Mme. Roucheau. "Too country by half! Though, perhaps, for a pelisse..."
"A pink, Mme. Roucheau!" exclaimed Georgiana. "Not a rose pink - that is too light, but perhaps something darker..."
Elizabeth was beginning to feel like a china doll, with two enthusiastic youngsters dressing her for an imaginary ball. It was not altogether an unpleasant feeling, for she had never had anyone pay so much attention to her looks before. Her mother had always been too caught up with Jane's appearance to worry much about hers, and her younger sisters were much too interested in themselves to care at all about another person.
Soon, three gowns had been ordered for each of the young women, and Mme. Roucheau was in raptures about all of them. Promising that they would be completed by the end of the week, she kissed Miss Darcy on both cheeks, shook Elizabeth's hand very cordially, and wished them both a good day.
There were, of course, other shops to visit. Mantua makers, milliners, and cobblers - by the end of the morning, they were both fatigued to the bone. As they neared a jeweller's, Georgiana stopped and turned to her friend.
"You must wait here, Elizabeth, for I must go in and buy your Christmas present!"
"My Christmas present! But Georgiana, your invitation to London was gift enough!"
"Nonsense. Besides, I must get something for Fitzwilliam as well, and it is better if all gifts are secret, is it not?" She left her friend in the street and hurried into the shop, leaving Elizabeth in a bit of a quandary.
She had, somehow, forgotten about Christmas presents. She was sure she would have little trouble procuring one for Georgiana, but would Mr. Darcy expect a gift as well? She was, after all, a guest in his house, but how should she go about purchasing a gift for someone she knew as little about as Mr. Darcy? As she pondered this dilemma, Georgiana reappeared with two boxes in her hands, which she insisted on carrying for herself.
"Poor Billy and John have enough to carry, and it is near tea-time. Are you not hungry, Elizabeth?"
"Simply fading away," was her friend's reply, and they hurried to the carriage and gave the driver instructions to head home.
Chapter 21
The carriage was heard pulling up in the drive. At the sound of it, Darcy rose from his chair and reminded himself of his resolve to be gracious and polite, no matter how completely the presence of a certain young woman managed to flummox him: an easy enough task to determine upon, but certainly not very simple to accomplish.
When he walked out into the foyer to greet his sister and her friend, Georgiana ran to him. "Oh, Brother, wait 'til you see my new gowns...and Lizzy's as well! Mme. Roucheau says that we will be the toast of the ton, and that Lizzy could very well be the next town beauty!"
"Posh, Georgie, she said no such thing," Elizabeth said, blushing. "If she had, I should have laughed."
"Well, perhaps those were not her words precisely, but she did say that your style of beauty could be en vogue soon enough. She has an eye for such things and is..."
"A shrewd businesswoman who knows well how to sell a gown," Elizabeth laughed.
"Oddly enough," Darcy said, speaking for almost the first time since Elizabeth had arrived, "she has also correctly predicted the Belle of the Season for nigh on ten years."
Elizabeth flushed, but did not look away from him. "She made no such prediction for me." Her eyes suddenly gleamed wickedly. "Besides, I am sure the Belle of the Season could never be described as simply 'tolerable.'"
Mr. Darcy, though feeling a great deal less composed than he looked, answered with admirable equanimity, "You are to receive no more supplications from me, Miss Bennet. That incident has been completely wiped from my conscience."
"You underestimate the power of words on a lady's self-esteem, sir!"
"And you, madam, miscalculate the effects of time and experience on a gentleman's opinions."
Georgiana, perceiving that Elizabeth was too much surprised to offer a reply, suggested that they all retire to the drawing room. She took her brother's arm, and Elizabeth hesitated only a moment in accepting the other. Darcy glanced behind him to see Billy and John handing the ladies' packages to a few maids who had come to assist them.
"I trust I may expect my footmen to leave my employ tomorrow?" he asked his sister.
"What do you mean, Fitzwilliam?" was her astonished reply.
"After a day such as they have had, I would not be surprised if they declared themselves through with the Darcys forever."
Elizabeth smiled at Georgiana's rather bewildered expression. "Their ordeal is nothing they will not overcome, Mr. Darcy. There are more formidable tasks than following two ladies on a shopping expedition."
"Indeed. I could have asked them to swim the Atlantic."
"You do us a great disservice, sir! Your opinion of women cannot be very agreeable."
They had reached the drawing room, and Darcy rang the bell for tea. "I try never to judge individuals by generalities. Doing so could lessen one's acquaintance considerably."
"And yet there are people who embody every characteristic attributed to their classification."
Georgiana, overjoyed that her brother and friend were speaking on friendly terms and so far had not disagreed, sipped her tea quietly and prayed that it would last.
"Indeed, and such people make objectivity very difficult."
"We met with one such young woman today," Elizabeth mused, stirring her tea, "and I have no doubt I will meet more. She evidently thought me a coarse, uncultured girl because my uncle lives near Cheapside..."
"It is odd that such people believe that no one else can step out of their conventional sphere."
A slow, sly smile spread across Elizabeth's face as she looked at Mr. Darcy from the corners of her eyes. "Very odd, indeed."
Mr. Darcy, remembering his behaviour at the first Meryton assembly and his opinion of country people and country manners, understood her meaning and felt his cheeks flush. Before he could think of a reply, Hayes appeared at the door.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam, sir," he said to Darcy.
Darcy smiled, which, Elizabeth realized, was a sight growing more and more familiar, and motioned for the butler to show in his cousin.
"Robert is our favourite cousin," Georgiana whispered to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth did not know what to make of this information. The idea of Mr. Darcy and Georgie, who seemed so completely different, sharing a favourite cousin seemed rather absurd.
"Too late for tea, am I?" the Colonel said directly as he walked into the room past his cousin and inspected the tea service. He poured himself a cup and took a sip, then grimaced and spat it back in the cup. "Repulsive! You drink this tepid stuff, Fitz?"
Georgiana was giggling almost uncontrollably. Col. Fitzwilliam glanced at her for the first time since entering the room, and then looked again at the young lady sitting on the sofa beside her.
"Oh ... dear God, I..." he stammered, beginning to turn a deep shade of red. "Forgive me, I did not know you had a visitor. Blast it al l... I am so sorry..." Still holding his cup, he turned desperately to Mr. Darcy for assistance. "Fitz, Hayes said nothing. I did not mean..."
"Spare yourself, Rob," Mr. Darcy said sardonically. "You have never apologized for such behaviour before."
"Yes, but ... I..."
"Rob, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet," Darcy interrupted him, turning to Elizabeth, "Miss Elizabeth, I introduce my cousin Robert Fitzwilliam, colonel in His Majesty's Army."
"And the greatest fool ever born," Fitzwilliam said weakly, taking Elizabeth's outstretched hand.
"A weighty responsibility to bear, Colonel," Elizabeth said gravely. "I am sure the country owes you a great debt."
The Colonel turned a darker shade of red. "Nonsense, Miss Bennet. Nothing is owed - the king's service has its own rewards."
"The king's service?" Elizabeth's eyes widened. "You are greatly honoured indeed, sir. Is it daunting to perform for His Majesty?"
Now Fitzwilliam looked rather wary. "I do not understand your meaning, ma'am. The King's Army does not perform."
Georgiana burst into giggles again. Darcy's shoulders were shaking with restrained mirth. Fitzwilliam gave them odd looks before returning his attention to Elizabeth.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir," Elizabeth said sweetly, allowing her eyes to sparkle with laughter. "I am afraid you have mistaken my meaning. I refer to your position as the 'world's greatest fool'."
After a moment of stunned silence, the Colonel burst into laughter and gallantly bowed over Elizabeth's hand. When the room had quieted again, Darcy smiled at his cousin.
"I believe you have met your match, Rob."
"My match? My vanquisher, more like!" Robert sat in an armchair near the ladies' sofa and grinned at Georgiana. "I see already why you are so fond of her, Ginger."
"Lizzy is my truest friend," Georgiana said with a smile at Elizabeth. "I am so grateful that she came to us."
"Please, Georgie," Elizabeth said with a laugh, "the debt is mine. Why, when your letter came, I could hardly sleep for excitement."
"We are to go ice skating tomorrow," Georgiana informed her cousin.
"Indeed! May I join you? It should be interesting to see Fitz don a pair of skates after all these years."
"If you intend to accompany them, Rob, there can be no occasion for my going," Mr. Darcy said with relief.
"But, Fitzwilliam!" exclaimed his sister. "You promised!"
"You aren't going to leave me to fumble alone, are you, coz?"
"It would be a great shame not to have you with us," Elizabeth said, feeling obligated to say something to that effect. In fact, to her surprise, she found that the thought of such an adventure without him was not a very entertaining one.
So entreated, Mr. Darcy will hardly be blamed for acquiescing at last and agreed that the next day, he would amuse them all with his inadequate skating abilities.
When Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner's carriage entered the sweeping drive of Longbourn, there was such a clamour to greet them that the coachman was hard put to control the poor horses. As the weary travellers descended from the carriage, they were greeted enthusiastically by seven Bennets, all shouting their salutations in their own way. Mr. Bennet heartily shook Mr. Gardiner's hand and kissed Mrs. Gardiners. Mrs. Bennet exclaimed over their tardiness and declared that she had thought them dead. Jonathan hugged them both and Jane kissed their cheeks. Mary was silent and restrained, and Kitty and Lydia demanded to hear that they had grown and would soon be catching husbands.
Christmas would be a merry affair, indeed, and the Gardiners found that they had much to hear. Mr. Bennet hurried Jon and Mr. Gardiner into his study as soon as he could, but Mrs. Gardiner was not so fortunate. Her sister-in-law had much to ask, and much to communicate. When Mrs. Gardiner had finished describing the latest fashions in London and related all the gossip she could remember about the always entertaining higher social circles; told of hinted engagements, possible secret weddings, and the generally scandalous affairs of the elite, it was her function to listen.
In the first place, she heard of the most recent disaster: Jonathan's insult to Mr. Collins, and Elizabeth's refusing to set Jon right and accept Mr. Collins after all. When all these grievous things had been detailed until there was nothing further to say, Jane's sad tale came next.
Mrs. Gardiner had read of Mr. Bingley in her letters from her nephew and Elizabeth, and she could truly sympathize with Mrs. Bennet in the loss of such a fine young man. Such details as she wanted, however, could not be supplied by letter or by her sister-in-law. At the first opportunity, therefore, she sought out her nephew to gain more particulars.
"He seemed to be a perfectly amiable man, and well-suited to Jane," Mrs. Gardiner said to him. "I am very sorry that nothing came of it. But tell me, how has Jane been affected by all this?"
Jonathan thought for a moment. "She is not happy, Aunt. She insists that she is well, and that she no longer thinks of him, and I daresay she believes it. But she is very unhappy. I do believe that she loved him."
"The poor dear," Mrs. Gardiner sighed. "And what of Mr. Bingley's feelings?"
"I cannot be certain, naturally, but he did seem to value her highly. He was completely engrossed by her - sat near her at every dinner party, partnered her in every game, and danced almost solely with her at his own ball."
"It may have been merely an infatuation," Mrs. Gardiner mused. "How terrible! For poor Jane to be so jilted! And she is such a lovely, sweet, and trusting girl, too."
"Perhaps it is better," Jonathan suggested.
"Better? How so?"
"Now the damage is done, and he is gone. She will not remain miserable, as she must in a marriage, by constantly seeing him and being forced to live with him. Yes, I do believe it is best that he left."
Mrs. Gardiner eyed him with wonder. "I have never heard you speak that way, Jon. You seem to think that marriage must lead inevitably to misery."
"Is it not so, in ninety-nine cases out of an hundred? Observe my mother and father, or my aunt and uncle Philips, or any one of the wedded couples in London. There is the occasional happy marriage, I grant you, but the odds of achieving one are extremely low."
"My dear Jon, you must not allow yourself to think this way," Mrs. Gardiner said, placing a hand on his arm. "A marriage is what the participants make of it, not a predestined path to unhappiness. Your uncle and I have not always been happy, but we have a good marriage based on our mutual love and respect for each other. When hard times come - and they will, make no mistake of that - we depend on that love and respect to carry us through."
"Assuming that the participants have the love and respect in the first place."
"That is the point of courtship and an engagement: to determine compatibility. Some marriages are indeed based on - less lofty feelings, and no doubt those are the marriages you are describing as miserable." They were both silent for a moment, and then Mrs. Gardiner began again. "There was something else I wanted to talk with you about, if you wished to. Your letters included several mentions of a certain young lady residing at Netherfield Park."
Jonathan gave a weak laugh and rose to pace the floor. "I assume you refer to Miss Georgiana Darcy. Well, there is little to discuss. She is gone, and is still in love with her former fiancée, whom her brother will not allow her to see."
"She seemed rather young, Jon."
"Sixteen. Is that not ridiculous?"
Mrs. Gardiner smiled. "Not in the least. That is, a person's years are no indication of her age."
"She is - everything that a man wishes for, Aunt. She is beautiful, sweet, charming, and intelligent - but there is something more fascinating than that. She seems so delicate and untouched, like a hothouse flower, but I can sense something, an inner core of strength. She is strong in the way that she bends under pressure rather than breaking. Young as she is, she seems so - Lord, I cannot even describe her." He fell into the sofa beside his aunt and sighed. "You see what I've become: a great mooncalf who claims that words cannot describe his lady."
Mrs. Gardiner laughed. "No need for such drama, my boy. If you love her, why not pursue her?"
"I told you that she loves another."
"If she is not engaged to him, or in any way bound to him, persuade her otherwise. Whoever he is, I am sure you are twice the man he is."
Wickham's predatory, malignant face arose in Jonathan's mind. "She certainly deserves better than the likes of him," he said.
"Well, then?"
"I suppose I am for London after Christmas," Jonathan said with a small grin. "And Lizzy and I were wondering whether you would be willing to have Jane stay with you after Christmas. This environment is not healthy for her, as our mother continues to lament Mr. Bingley's absence and constantly remind Jane of how very much attached he had seemed and his abominable behaviour in staying away."
"I should be glad to! The poor dear, I cannot imagine how such a thing could happen to Jane, of all people. Is that your mother calling?"
Jonathan groaned. "Yes, and we are to have a large party for dinner tonight. Tell me, do you delight in constantly having strangers about you when you came to visit family?"
Mrs. Gardiner was spared making a reply to this rather ungenerous question by Mrs. Bennet's loudly asserting that the dinner should be a disaster, that nobody cared to help her, and that in consequence of all this her nerves were threatening to send her to her bed for at least the next week.
Chapter 22
Elizabeth clung unsteadily to the bench nearest to the frozen skating pond. Why had she allowed Georgiana to bring her here? The little minx was out there on the pond, skating briskly away from her cousin, who was in pursuit, determined to repay her for the snowball she had shied at his head. Elizabeth laughed at the sight, but stopped instantly as she almost lost her balance. Willing her feet to move with some purpose, she manoeuvred herself around the bench until she could sit. She tried to regain her composure and to look as if she were merely catching her breath after a long bout of skating on the ice.
Mr. Darcy glided elegantly toward her from the edge of the pond, where he had been watching the antics of his sister and cousin with a strange look on his face. Elizabeth frowned in irritation. From his manner of speaking the night before, she had expected him to be nearly as clumsy on the ice as herself. Yet here he was, skating as if he had been born with blades on his feet.
"Are you unwell, Miss Bennet?" he asked when he had neared her.
"Not at all!" she answered brightly. "Merely catching my breath."
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Very much," Elizabeth lied. "I thought you had not skated in years, but you seem to have retained your knowledge remarkably well."
Mr. Darcy hesitated, and then gestured to the unoccupied spot on her bench. "May I?" At her nod, he seated himself. "I have not - I suppose that after - that is, ever since I have had the management of my affairs, I have never had the opportunity. But Ana was right; once one learns to skate, one never truly forgets."
Elizabeth, though curious to know what he had been going to say before he had corrected himself, turned the conversation. "I must express my gratitude to you for allowing Miss Darcy to invite me. She is such a sweet girl."
Mr. Darcy smiled wryly. "I did not, strictly speaking, 'allow' her to do anything, as she made the decision herself with hardly any reference to me. And I must tell you that it is I with the debt of gratitude." His smile disappeared and he turned to face her with a face almost frighteningly grave. "I doubt you have any idea, Miss Bennet, of what you have done for her. When I think of the young lady she was not three months ago, how silent and grave and depressed, I do not know how to thank you."
Elizabeth was captured by the pure emotion in his eyes, and for a moment could say nothing. After a moment or two, she glanced away towards Georgiana, who was ducking snowballs from Robert. "Has she been ill, Mr. Darcy?"
"No - not ill, precisely. I am sorry, Miss Bennet. I do not mean to offend you, but I cannot tell you. It involves the happiness and peace of mind of others."
Elizabeth thought for a moment, and then, having summoned her courage, said, "Mr. Darcy, I have been relentless in often requiring of you an apology for a certain incident of this autumn." Mr. Darcy's cheeks reddened, but he did not interrupt her. "I find, however," she said, encouraged, "that I owe you an apology of my own."
He turned to her in surprise. "Miss Bennet, what..."
She held up a hand to silence him. "Please, let me finish. I have always prided myself on my superior judgment of characters. However, it is often said that pride goes before a fall, and I believe my fall has come. As I have no doubt you have noticed, I have long harboured - less than friendly feelings towards you. That is not what I am to apologize for, though that would seem enough; but those feelings were not really inspired by my own observations. They were fuelled by another, someone who professed to know all about you and told me things which it pleased me to hear, because they seemed to justify my dislike of you. That is what I am sorry for - for being so very ungenerous towards you, for listening to such malicious rumours, and for making no attempt to stop them."
Mr. Darcy, after a small silence, said, "If your informant is who I suspect he is, Miss Bennet, you are not the first, nor will you be the last, to have believed him at my expense."
Elizabeth frowned very slightly. After all, the fault was not entirely Wickham's - Mr. Darcy had been no Prince Charming in Hertfordshire and she was sure he knew it. However, because she and Mr. Darcy seemed to be getting on tolerably well, she decided not to mention it.
"Lizzy!" Georgiana called from across the ice. "Why do you not skate? You and Fitzwilliam must join us!"
Darcy turned to her again. "Shall we?"
"If you will give Miss Darcy my excuses," Elizabeth said quickly, "I believe I hurt my ankle."
"Your ankle? Why did you not say so?" Instantly he knelt and looked as if about to remove her boot. "It must be tended to."
"Stop!" Elizabeth said quickly, beginning to feel a vague sensation of panic. "I - never mind about my ankle. It is not hurt, after all."
"Are you sure?" he asked, looking up, his eyes full of concern.
"Yes - I feel so stupid - it is only that I could not skate if my life depended upon it."
"Ah, I see," Mr. Darcy said, the hint of a laugh in his voice. He replaced her foot on the ice.
Georgiana skated up to them. "Lizzy, why are you still sitting down? Fitzwilliam, what on earth are you doing?"
"Searching for my ring, dearest," he answered solemnly. He held up his hand, displaying the tiny signet ring on his smallest finger. "I found it." Elizabeth laughed. Georgiana gave them an odd look.
"What is the matter, Lizzy?"
"My dear Georgie, I am afraid I am too stupid to skate."
"Nonsense! Fitzwilliam, you must help her."
There was very little either of them could do to avoid it. With his sister standing sentinel over them, and Robert half a pond's length away flirting with some young lady, Mr. Darcy had little choice but to extend Elizabeth his hand, and she had little choice but to accept it. He gently pulled her to her feet, and she squared her shoulders.
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy."
"You are very welcome, Miss Bennet."
Georgiana smiled and skated away. Elizabeth tried to follow her, but her feet could not decide which direction to go in, and she pitched forward - into Mr. Darcy's arms. Instinctively his arms went around her waist to steady her, and her hands gripped his shoulders.
The sensation of having Miss Elizabeth Bennet clinging to him for support was completely unexpected and extremely unsettling, though by no means disagreeable. Regaining her balance, she slowly straightened again, but for a few seconds neither of them moved. Darcy found himself staring into her eyes, devoid of words.
When Elizabeth had righted herself, she glanced up at Mr. Darcy and met his eyes. Their expression was so intense and inscrutable, that she blushed and took her hands from his shoulders. Giving himself a slight shake, Darcy released her.
"I owe you my thanks once again, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, rather breathlessly.
He could not answer. Instead, he nodded his head and offered her his arm. She took it gratefully and he escorted her very slowly across the ice, as much to prolong the feeling of her weight on his arm as to ensure that she did not stumble again. When they reached his sister and cousin, Robert cheerfully divested Darcy of Elizabeth's arm and led her around the pond, teaching her the more basic elements of ice skating. Darcy, wishing that he had had the presence of mind to do so just a few moments before, felt an unexpected sliver of jealousy slice through his consciousness as he watched Robert tease Elizabeth and listened to her silvery laughter at his antics. Shaken by the unfamiliar emotion, he found himself remembering the tone of her voice when she insisted that nothing was wrong with her ankle - the feel of her in his arms - the sensation of powerlessness when he had gazed into her eyes - his jealousy of his cousin.
It suddenly occurred to Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy that he might be in very deep trouble indeed.
Christmas had arrived, and Elizabeth, amazingly enough, was before the others. Memories of the past few days had haunted her during the night, and she could only hope that she had imagined many of them. Her time in London was passing even more pleasantly than she could have imagined. There had been no parties or trips to the theatre so far, because hers and Georgiana's gowns would not be ready before Saturday, and it was only Thursday. Nevertheless, she had been thrown into a situation that she did not understand and was more than a little frightened of.
The good people of Meryton would never recognize the owner of this magnificent townhouse as Mr. Darcy. He was polite, gracious, and attentive to everyone's needs or wants. He was still rather quiet, especially when she was in the room, and she did not know what to attribute that to. Be that as it may, he did not seem the same man. She did not think him duplicitous - no, if he was anything, he was at times painfully honest. This must, then, be his "home" manner - what he was when he was with people he knew and liked, and in situations he was familiar with. Elizabeth was not blind to the fact that he still had many faults. He had never acknowledged to her that his behaviour in Hertfordshire had been wrong; and while verbosity and familiarity would be rather too much to expect from his reserved nature at any time, she did not think that a little common politeness would have injured him. It must be, then, that he thought his behaviour in general irreproachable - that he had a right to think well of himself and treat others as if they were inferior. This was not a gross failing, when one considered his upbringing, and Elizabeth could not help but imagine that he was, though unknown to himself, changing that outlook very slowly. He treated her, whom only a few months ago he had considered an inferior and "tolerable" country miss, not only with politeness, but with kindness, and therein lay the rub. Her opinions, whose solidity she had come to depend upon, were being challenged, and it disconcerted her.
Mr. Darcy proud and unjust she could despise; Mr. Darcy quiet and grave she could understand; but Mr. Darcy polite and attentive unsettled her. Lately he had seemed so different from the man she had grown accustomed to that she fought the urge to check in closets and see if the real Mr. Darcy had been abducted and stowed away somewhere. Abandoning the breakfast room and her perplexing thoughts, she wandered into the drawing room to check once more on her Christmas presents for the Darcys and Col. Fitzwilliam (she hadn't planned on giving him a gift, as he was so lately an acquaintance, but she had seen the article in a shop selling oddities and had been unable to resist) which were placed under the rather grand Christmas tree. They looked very nice, and she hoped that they would do. Her father had given her a very generous amount of money to spend in London, but a good deal of it had been spent the day after her arrival.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Elizabeth hastily rose to her feet and returned to the breakfast-room. Mr. Darcy was accepting a cup of coffee from the servant when she entered. He glanced at her as she approached the sideboard and smiled.
"Happy Christmas, Miss Bennet."
Why had she never noticed how handsome he was? Especially when he smiled, he seemed to be a prince out of a storybook. She returned his smile.
"Happy Christmas, Mr. Darcy."
He glanced at his watch. "I give Ana two minutes."
Elizabeth frowned. "I beg your pardon?"
"It is two minutes till seven, Miss Bennet. In two minutes or less, my baby sister will come flying down that staircase and announce to all of us that Christmas has arrived and order us to finish our coffee and attend to the more pressing business of the day."
"She is no longer a child, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth laughed. "I should not expect her to act in such a way now."
"In some ways we all remain children," Mr. Darcy said. "Why, for instance, are you and I awake so early?"
Elizabeth decided not to tell him that thoughts of him had kept her from sleep. "I suppose you are right," she said instead.
Georgiana's light tread was heard running down the staircase, and she burst into the breakfast-room in her dressing-gown with her golden hair around her shoulders. "It is Christmas!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "Hurry and finish your coffee so you may open your presents!" And with that she rushed out of the room and into the drawing-room, where she was heard to greet Mrs. Hayes, the housekeeper, with an enthusiastic "Happy Christmas!"
Darcy laughed. "I did warn you, Miss Bennet. Will you excuse me?" At her nod, he added, "If we are not seated in the drawing-room in five minutes, she will return, so I suggest you finish your coffee quickly."
Elizabeth smiled as he handed his cup to a footman and left to join his sister. She had forgotten how young Georgiana really was. Sixteen, after all, was a very young age. Lydia had not yet turned sixteen. But Georgiana always seemed so sedate and adult that it was difficult to remember her years. From now on, Elizabeth was sure, she would never see Georgiana dressed to perfection and handing out tea with impeccable manners, without remembering her tearing through the house in her dressing-gown announcing to one and all that Christmas had arrived.
Chapter 23
When Elizabeth joined the Darcys in the drawing room, Georgiana had already handed her brother his present and was watching in eager anticipation as he removed its wrapping. Elizabeth recognized the box from the jewellers, and when he opened it, he revealed a gold stickpin decorated with emeralds and diamond chips. Mr. Darcy smiled widely and kissed his sister on the cheek.
"Thank you, dearest!"
"I thought it could match your new waistcoat," Georgiana suggested.
"Of course."
Georgiana looked up at Elizabeth and ran over to her. "Here's your present, Lizzy!"
Elizabeth smiled at her exuberance and took the gift from her. "You must open mine as well, Georgie."
Elizabeth exclaimed over the jewelled butterfly brooch that Georgiana had purchased for her, and Georgiana was in raptures about the paper fan painted with exotic flowers and birds. Darcy, blushing only very slightly, presented Elizabeth with his own gift and Elizabeth handed him hers.
Darcy had no experience purchasing gifts for young women, and he did not consider his sister sufficient practice. He had asked for hints from Georgiana, from shopkeepers, and even from his housekeeper, but none of them could really help him. They had all suggested meaningless baubles, but he wanted to give her something that interested her. She enjoyed reading, if the torturous afternoon in Netherfield's library was any indication, and when she had gone, he had recognized the book she had been perusing as a copy of Shakespeare. He only hoped his gift would not be seen as ridiculous.
Elizabeth tore away the paper and revealed a beautiful copy of Shakespeare's works, bound in leather, and when she flipped through the pages edged with gold leaf, she found breathtaking engravings. When she did not speak for a few seconds, Darcy said rather nervously,
"I hope that you like it. If not, you can return it to the bookshop and replace it..."
"It is perfectly lovely," Elizabeth assured him. "Thank you."
He gave her a small smile and turned to his own gift. It was a small, decorated cigarette case with his initials engraved on the lid. He felt a very slight sense of disappointment. What he was expecting, he was not quite sure, but the cigarette case seemed so very impersonal. Shaking off the thought, he smiled and thanked her, and then approached Georgiana with a very serious aspect.
"I want to give this to you before Robert arrives," he said quietly. He handed her a very small box, which Georgiana, apparently suspecting the contents, took with trembling fingers. As she slowly opened the lid, she gasped, and tears glistened in her eyes.
"Oh, Fitzwilliam..."
"In honour of the young woman you have become, Ana," he said, taking the ring from the box and slipping it on her finger.
"But - Mother's wedding ring?" she asked in a whisper.
"She wanted you to have it when you were grown. She never gave an age, and you have become such a lady, Ana. She would be as proud of you as I am."
Georgiana threw her arms about her brother's neck, and then extended her hand for Elizabeth to admire the ring. It was a sapphire set in gold, with tiny, perfect diamonds clustered around it. As the servants cleared the paper and discarded boxes from the room, Elizabeth saw Georgiana cradle one hand protectively over the other.
"A happy Christmas to you all!" rang Colonel Robert Fitzwilliam's voice from the vestibule. Everyone rose and smiled in the general direction of the doorway as he strode through it, three boxes in his hands. "I found three packages in my quarters this morning, and by Jove, they had your names on them! Can't imagine where they came from. I haven't the funds for such baubles, I tell you that!"
They all laughed and accepted their packages, Elizabeth with some surprise.
"Colonel," she said, "there was no need..."
"Nothing exceptional, I warn you," the colonel said.
When the packages from all were unwrapped, Georgiana had new piano music, Darcy a new book, and Elizabeth a small bottle of lavender scented water. Richard had gained a new, decorated scabbard for his sabre from Darcy, handkerchiefs embroidered with his initials from Georgiana, and from Elizabeth, a colourful jester's cap that set them all to laughing uproariously.
"How are your parents?" Darcy asked when they had all calmed sufficiently.
"Doing very well. They regret they can't be here to see you and Ginger, but Father's health prevented a journey to London."
"When you see them again," Georgiana said, "you must give them my love."
"Naturally, my dear." Fitzwilliam rose. "I am afraid I must be going. Celebration down at my quarters, you know. I had much rather stay, but those new recruits will be making fools of themselves if I don't watch them. The older men and the officers like to have their fun with recruits, you see, and they're trusting young pups, the lot of them."
Darcy chuckled. "A good holiday to you, then, Rob."
The colonel shook hands with Darcy, kissed Georgiana's cheek, and kissed Elizabeth's hand with a flourish that caused Elizabeth to laugh and Darcy to frown. With a jaunty wave, Col. Fitzwilliam strolled out the door.
"You must be sure to wrap up very well, Jane," Mrs. Bennet fussed, "and write us often. If you see anything of Mr. Bingley, you must tell me straight away. We cannot let him get away again!"
"My dear sister," Mrs. Gardiner intervened when Jane began to look pale, "we are not taking to Jane to London so that we may throw her in the way of young men. There is little chance we will see anything of your former neighbours."
"Nonsense! Lizzy is visiting Miss Darcy, and Mr. Darcy is Mr. Bingley's oldest friend. They must meet!"
Apparently this had not occurred to Mrs. Gardiner, and she gave her niece a worried look. "If I do chance to meet Mr. Bingley and his sister, Mama," Jane said calmly, "I will give them your respects."
Mrs. Bennet looked about to say more, but her husband interrupted her. "Do that, my dear, and do not forget to enjoy yourself while you are in town. If you do see your sister, and I have no doubt that you will, either by your design or hers, will you deliver this letter for me?"
Jane smiled and took the letter from his outstretched hand. "Of course, Papa." He kissed her cheek and assisted her into the carriage.
Mr. Bennet then turned to his son and took him aside. "Jonathan," he said very seriously, "I need you to watch over your sister. Whatever, er, other motives you may have for going to London, Jane..."
"I know, Father," Jonathan said rather impatiently. "I have never neglected my sisters and I do not mean to begin now by ignoring them for my own interests or pleasure."
Mr. Bennet blinked, unsure of the meaning of this sentence. "Very well, my boy. A safe journey to you." He held out his hand, and Jonathan shook it, then kissed his mother and sisters on their cheeks, and followed his aunt and uncle into the carriage.
Jonathan had rarely felt so liberated as when the carriage rolled away from Longbourn house. He looked across at his sister, who was seated next to their aunt, and his concern for her grew. As the house shrank behind them, her perpetual smile began to falter, and her shoulders sagged. When Mrs. Gardiner asked if she felt well, Jane answered that she did, and then turned away to the window and watched with a disinterested gaze as the landscape sped past. Watching her, Jonathan realized exactly how trying the past few weeks had been for her, how terrible it must have been to have Mr. Bingley's name continuously thrown at her, and her misfortune alluded to by all of her mother's friends. They all meant well, but reminding her of her pain was no way to lessen it. His disappointment had been less evident and therefore less lamented, and furthermore he was a gentleman. A lady, a well-bred lady, could do nothing but encourage a gentleman in his attentions, and when he strayed, she could only sit by and hope that he came to his senses.
This brought his own dilemma to his mind. Miss Darcy had never absolutely encouraged him. He fancied that she did prefer his conversation to that of most gentlemen in Meryton, but that was nothing with which to feather his cap. However, she did not seem disinclined to him, and may even have shown a bit of a preference for him. Her shyness disconcerted him, and made him suspect that at one time or another she had been injured by a member of the opposite sex. And, of course, her brother was a force to be reckoned with. No, gaining Miss Georgiana Darcy's affections would not be easy, but he intended to strive to the utmost against the obstacles.
Elizabeth smiled at the footman as she accepted her letter from the tray. She recognized Jane's neat script immediately and opened the envelope eagerly. As she perused the letter's lines, she smiled.
It must be good news. Darcy watched as Elizabeth's smile spread over her face like a sunrise. He wondered idly what could be in a note to justify such joy, and whether he would ever see a smile like that intended for him.
"Good news, I trust, Miss Bennet?" he asked. As he had grown accustomed to her presence in his house, his anxiety had lessened somewhat, and he was proud that he could now speak to her with ease and tolerable intelligibility.
"The best I could have had, Mr. Darcy," was the answer. "My aunt and uncle Gardiner have returned to town, and they have brought my brother and sister Jane with them. They arrived only this afternoon."
Darcy did not quite know how to react to this information. For Elizabeth's sake, he was glad. For his own, Bingley's, and Georgiana's, he was rather nervous. Elizabeth would of course wish to visit her sister, and it was not his place to stop her. If, however, he could prevent Bingley from knowing of Miss Bennet's presence in town, or at the very least prevent him from seeing her, all might still be well. He had less fear for Georgiana. He had noticed with mixed feelings Jonathan Bennet's gentle attentions to her. Georgiana, he was proud to acknowledge, had never encouraged him, but she was still very young. What if young Bennet persuaded her to be in love with him? He did not attribute to Bennet the same motives that had spurred Wickham on, but a spirited, intelligent young man of five-and-twenty could have no business courting a young girl like his sister. Perhaps his attentions had only been the kind, gentle, friendly attentions that Elizabeth had offered her. Yes, that must be it. Darcy felt calmer, but not altogether secure. Best to keep those two as much apart as possible.
"Are they well, Lizzy?" Georgiana asked her, when it appeared that her brother was too much caught up in his own thoughts to offer any more civilities.
"Very well, and I hope to visit them this afternoon."
"Miss Bennet was such a sweet lady," Georgiana said thoughtfully. "I always thought her the nicest lady I had ever met - and so beautiful!"
"Yes, Jane is an angel," Elizabeth agreed. "Why don't you join me, Georgie? I'm sure Jane would love to see you again, and I should like to introduce you to my aunt and uncle Gardiner."
"Oh, Fitzwilliam, may I?" Georgiana asked, turning to her brother.
Damnation! Darcy looked from Elizabeth's amused face to Georgiana's pleading one. Dash it all, she knows I don't want Georgiana to go, he grumbled to himself. But how could he refuse his sister without seeming a veritable ogre?
"Very well, my dear," he said reluctantly. "Extend my compliments to Mr. and Miss Bennet, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner."
"Thank you, Fitzwilliam," Georgiana smiled, and she and Elizabeth left the room to make their call, leaving Darcy very disgruntled indeed. Caroline Bingley would not be pleased when she learned of this development.