Previous Section, Section IV, Next Section
Chapter 24
Georgiana could not imagine that she had ever been so frightened of meeting new people. As she sat in the drawing room of Mrs. Gardiner's house, sipping tea and laughing as Jane and Elizabeth described for her the many misadventures of their young cousins, and answering Mrs. Gardiner's polite questions, she could only scold herself for being a goose. Mr. Gardiner had greeted Elizabeth and her with the utmost politeness, and then left them to their feminine conversation. His wife was several years younger than either Mrs. Bennet or Mrs. Bennet's sister Mrs. Phillips, and a good deal more pleasant. Her only discomfort was in the sad, wistful glances that Miss Bennet often sent her way, for she could not understand them.
If Fitzwilliam could meet the Gardiners, he would not think so badly of Lizzy's connections, she thought.
They were all perfectly at ease, and Georgiana was beginning to relate some of her own childhood stories, when a new visitor was announced, and Mr. Jonathan Bennet walked into the room. Elizabeth exclaimed and gave her brother an enthusiastic hug, and Georgiana felt her throat constrict and doubted whether she would be able to speak at all for the remainder of the visit. She liked Jonathan a great deal, and often thought of him with some tenderness, but he was so much older than she, and so much more the man of the world! And there were times when he would sit by her, as he did now, and talk to her, and ask her about her brother, and her music, and so on, and she wanted so badly to give an intelligible reply, but she could only force from her lips a few monosyllables.
Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth both watched her keenly after Jonathan's entrance. She enjoyed his company, that much was evident, but she was so quiet that they doubted if she returned his affections. Mrs. Gardiner, seeing confirmation of her beliefs in Elizabeth's eyes, determined to have another conversation with Jonathan as soon as she could. Georgiana was a charming girl, and would one day be a lovely woman, but she doubted whether a courtship would be welcome at this time.
Jonathan soon left to join his uncle, and Georgiana seemed to revive. Elizabeth rose and suggested that they leave, because it would soon be time for dinner. Georgiana agreed, and while she was taking her leave, Elizabeth took her aunt aside to speak with her.
"I wish you would speak with Jonathan," she said quietly. "I cannot because I do not see him, and he would think me interfering. You are an objective party, and..."
"I know, Elizabeth," was her aunt's answer. "I will do my best, but young men in love are amazingly irrational creatures!"
"Georgiana is...delicate," Elizabeth said. "I do not know how or when, but she has been hurt and is very wary."
"I cannot make promises, my dear, but I will try. Now go!"
"They are such charming people, your uncle and aunt!" exclaimed Georgiana once they had been closed in the carriage. "I hope Fitzwilliam will meet them!"
Elizabeth laughed as she recalled the look on Mr. Darcy's face when she had suggested that Georgiana accompany her on her visit. "I do not know that he will be eager for such an introduction, Georgie."
"Miss Bennet did not look very well, I thought," Georgiana mused. "Has she been ill?"
Elizabeth did not know how to answer her.
"I always wondered why Mr. Bingley left Netherfield so quickly," Georgiana continued. "My brother, I am sure, wanted to be at home for Christmas, and I know Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst did not enjoy the country, but I was certain that Mr. Bingley - that is, I was persuaded that he enjoyed the country immensely." She thought for a few moments, and then said, "Lizzy, would it be unpardonably forward of me to ask if Miss Bennet holds an affection for Mr. Bingley?"
Elizabeth started. "It is a very forward question, Georgie, but I do not object to answering it. I do believe that she was - is - very fond of him, but circumstances are such..."
"I thought so," Georgiana said. "I did not think I could have been so mistaken, and I am sure that he is fond of her as well."
"Georgiana, my dear," Elizabeth sighed, "I am afraid that their mutual affection is not quite the point. It is very wrong, in my opinion, that anything should come between those who love, but there are so many disparities of family, fortune, and connection - his family and friends would never allow it."
"But his only family are his sisters, and his closest friend my brother! Surely there would not be..." Georgiana paused. "Oh, dear."
"What is it?"
"It is nothing," Georgiana said quietly, but she was beginning to be angry.
She was not blind to the ambition of Mr. Bingley's sisters. Ever since her brother had formed a friendship with theirs, they had used the connection to raise themselves higher and higher in society. As Bingleys, they were guaranteed respect and a small amount of notice from society; as friends of the Darcys, they garnered quite a bit more of both. Miss Bennet and her country family would certainly not meet their expectations for their brother. It was no secret to Georgiana that they wished for a union between her and Mr. Bingley, and she had recently begun to suspect that Fitzwilliam's thoughts were bent in that direction as well. No wonder Miss Bennet had looked at her in such a way; Miss Bingley must have been confiding her hopes.
And Fitzwilliam. Georgiana had never before been really angry with her brother, but as she recalled his words on the first night of his being home ("circumstances were such that we had to leave. Mr. Bingley...") and later part of an overheard conversation between him and Robert ("unwise connection ...besotted ... had to get him away...") she began to realize what he had done. She knew very well his opinions on connections and social status, and could now well believe that he might have had a hand, though a small one, in the disappointment of both Miss Bennet and Mr. Bingley.
She glanced at her friend. Apparently Elizabeth had not yet formed the connection in her mind, and she did not wish her to. Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth were getting on so well that she did not wish to spoil it, even if her brother had behaved in a very foolish manner. If Elizabeth were ever to discover that Fitzwilliam had had a hand in her sister's disappointment ... she did not wish to think of it. She resolved to have a talk with her brother as soon as she could.
When they arrived at the townhouse, Georgiana had calmed her anger somewhat, and when they entered the drawing room, could even greet Mr. Bingley and his family, whose appearance she had not expected, with politeness and cheer. Elizabeth's salutation to Mr. Bingley and his sisters was rather frosty, and Mr. Bingley looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"I hope you are well, Miss Elizabeth," he said awkwardly.
"Very well, indeed, thank you."
"I am - very glad to hear it. And your family? I hope they are well?"
"Tolerably."
It appeared he was to receive no other answer, and Darcy, glad that she had not mentioned her sister's presence in town, proposed that they all adjourn to the dining hall. When they had been seated, Georgiana smiled at Mr. Bingley, by whom she had been seated, and said,
"Miss Elizabeth bestowed upon me a great honour today."
Darcy's head snapped up in consternation and watched, powerless, as Georgiana smiled at him and returned to her guest.
"Did she? May I ask what this honour was?"
"She introduced me to her aunt and uncle Gardiner, and they are such pleasant people!"
"Which aunt and uncle are those, Miss Bennet?" Miss Bingley said sweetly. "Are they the couple who reside in Gracechurch Street?"
Mrs. Hurst tried to cover her derisive laugh with a cough, and accidentally splattered the table with soup.
"Yes, they are," Elizabeth said with thinned lips.
"As I said, such charming people," Georgiana continued. "At any rate, I had the added pleasure while I was there, of renewing my acquaintance with Mr. and Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth looked at the table, and Darcy made a sound that resembled a mouse that had been trod upon. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst gasped nearly inaudibly, and Mr. Bingley dropped his spoon, which had been halfway to his mouth, back into his bowl.
"Miss Bennet is in London, is she? I had not heard. Caroline, did Miss Bennet write of it?"
"Oh!" Miss Bingley said uncomfortably, "I may have had a note to that effect, but I did not think - that is - it was not definite..."
Mr. Bingley's expression hardened. "I see." He turned to Elizabeth. "Miss Bennet, may I have your aunt's direction? I should like to pay my respects to my neighbours."
In halting tones, and with a tentative look at Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth told him where he might find the Gardiners, and Georgiana, perceiving that she had done all she could, suggested that the ladies withdraw. She followed her guests out of the room, and as the dining room doors were closing, she heard snatches of a beginning conversation:
"Bingley, I really do not think..."
"No, Darcy, I have made up my mind. I am going to see Miss Bennet and..."
Georgiana smiled and went to rescue Elizabeth from the vindictive Bingley sisters.
At the end of the evening, Darcy bid his guests farewell and, as soon as the door was shut on them, proceeded immediately to the drawing room, where Georgiana and Elizabeth were laughing and talking together.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Elizabeth, but may I have a word with my sister?"
"Certainly," Elizabeth said, uneasy at the anger in his voice and countenance.
Georgiana, looking not a bit cowed, followed him out of the room and into the library. He turned to face her.
"Ana, I do not know what has happened to you, but I demand to know what you think you are doing. You have become someone I do not even recognize, manoeuvring against my express wishes to invite your friend here, and now this! I do not understand you!"
"Was I wrong in informing Mr. Bingley of his friends' presence in town?"
"Yes, for you did not know the whole of his history! Georgiana, Bingley fancies himself in love with that girl, and the connection is simply impossible. It is presumptuous of her to think of it, and her family - you have met them! Can you sincerely wish our friend such a mother-in-law?"
"If they love each other, I do not see what should prevent them. Mr. Bingley has the means to travel, and they may live away from her family."
"But she does not love him, Ana. I watched her narrowly at the Netherfield Ball, and she never showed any return of his affections."
"Is that fair, brother? You say it is presumptuous of her to care for Mr. Bingley, and then find fault with her for not displaying those feelings."
"If she were truly in love with him, she could not hide it."
"There you are wrong." Georgiana paused, unable to believe that she had actually contradicted her brother so completely. "A woman must hide such sentiments to avoid ridicule. Even in the upper circles, a woman who openly shows her affection for a man is laughed at." Georgiana took a breath. "I have seen her, Fitzwilliam. She tried her best to be cheerful, but when she looked at me I could see she thought me a rival. Caroline Bingley has set me up as a rival to her, Fitzwilliam, and I cannot abide it! There is such sadness in her eyes - and yet she tried so valiantly to seem happy."
"You are upset, and so I will excuse your language. But you are only a child and do not understand these things. There is more to a successful marriage than love. Equality is essential, both of mind and station."
"I only speak in this way because I see the mistake you are making! Why equality of station, may I ask? Are we not all equal in the eyes of God? Would a marriage to an intelligent woman of rank, whom you did not love, satisfy you? Would you be happy in a marriage with our cousin Anne?"
Darcy shuddered involuntarily. "You are twisting my words, Georgiana."
"I am not. Consider poor Mr. Bingley! He has met his soul's match, and she, through no fault of her own or his, has what you deem unfit connections. Is it not for Mr. Bingley to decide whether the pleasure of her company is worth the misfortune of low connections?"
"His is young and naïve, much like you. He does not know what is best."
"And you do? You are infallible? You have never been mistaken?"
"You know very well that I am not and that I have been."
"He loves her, Fitzwilliam, and she him."
"You do not know what real love is."
"I do not believe you know either, or you would not speak of marriage as a legal contract instead of a mating of hearts and souls."
"You are a young girl with romantic ideals."
"I had much rather have romantic ideals than a heart of stone."
Darcy stood very still. "That is very harsh."
Georgiana sighed. "It is, and I did not mean it. I apologize, Fitzwilliam. I know you are capable of great tenderness, but you - you are so hard, at times. I do not even know you. You are not the happy person I once knew."
"And you are not the timid little girl I once knew. I wish I knew who you were." Darcy sounded rather sad.
"I am stronger than I once was. Elizabeth and Mrs. Annesley have both helped me to find the strength to form my own opinions."
"And even to argue them."
"Indeed," Georgiana said with a small laugh. "Truly, Fitzwilliam, you cannot take care of everyone. Mr. Bingley will have to fend for himself and make his own mistakes. You have given him your warning and opinion, I know, and if he chooses not to act according to your advice, you can do no more."
"I know, my dear. I am - glad that you interfered when you did. I was on the point of deceiving my best friend." He took her hand. "Though I cannot pretend to approve of his choice. You are such a young lady now. I hardly recognize you."
Georgiana gave a breathless laugh. "I hardly recognize myself. Are you angry with me?"
"No, not angry, my dear, though a little confused. Shall we return to your friend?"
Georgiana smiled and walked out of the library with her brother behind her.
Chapter 25
The evening continued and ended with more formality than usual. Elizabeth, now thoroughly flummoxed by Mr. Darcy's contradictory behaviour, and Georgiana, rather weary from her argument with her brother, soon rose to retire. Mr. Darcy bowed them out, and Elizabeth, instead of returning directly to her own chamber, followed Georgiana to hers. When the door was shut upon them, Elizabeth turned to her friend.
"I hope I have not been the cause of distress," she said anxiously.
"Of course not, Lizzy," Georgiana assured her with some surprise.
"Your brother did not appear pleased with your information at dinner."
"No," Georgiana mused. "He was not pleased at all. In fact, he was rather angry with me. We have never disagreed so openly before, but we both acknowledged our wrongs and are friends again."
"Wrong? You did no wrong, Georgie!"
"No, perhaps my informing Mr. Bingley was not wrong, but my manner of speaking to my brother a few moments ago was. He has earned more respect from me."
Elizabeth seated herself on the bed. "Georgie, your brother is the most confusing man I have ever met. How can he be so kind in some aspects and so impossible in others? I mean no insult, of course," she added hastily.
"I cannot tell you," Georgiana answered with a sigh as she sank down beside Elizabeth. "I only know that his first instinct is to question my decisions. I do not deny that I have given him reason enough to doubt my good sense..." Georgiana sighed. "However, it is too late at night for such a discussion. We had best go to bed. Good night, Lizzy." Elizabeth stood rather tentatively and wished Georgiana a good night, and then went to her own bedchamber, with her questions multiplied rather than answered.
Darcy sat in his study, scrutinizing the top of his desk. He had much to do, but could concentrate on none of it. This day, perhaps at this moment, Bingley was visiting the Gardiners, greeting Jane Bennet, and perhaps making as much a fool of himself as ever, and he owed it all to Elizabeth Bennet and Georgiana.
Georgiana. Darcy leaned his head on his hand when he thought of her. He had not recognized her the night before, standing before him and declaring him cold as ice, with a heart of stone. The words had been more painful than he would ever allow; such accusations had been thrown at him before by various people for whose opinion he cared nothing, but that such charges should be brought against him by his own sister, by the very child who had respected him and looked up to him almost as a father, pained him more deeply than any wound man could inflict. And she truly believes it. Georgiana was not an untruthful person. She would never say such things to him if she did not believe them to be true.
He brought his hands before him and laid them on his desk, studying them, searching his thoughts. His parents had been wonderful people, kind and loving, and desirous that their children receive the best of everything. He had been taught to uphold his family name with honour and dignity, never to disgrace it, and he had endeavoured to do so: living by the strictest of principles, conducting himself with the utmost propriety, and consistently avoiding company that might stain the honour of his name. Some people, he had been informed by his parents, were worthy of his attention and friendship, and some were not. He had learned never to judge people by their manners and appearance alone. Wickham, who was often extolled as the very picture of the amiable and courteous, hid underneath his pleasant façade the very essence of villainy. Caroline Bingley, for all her elegant comportment, was a polecat of the highest order. Darcy sighed and turned his thoughts to the Bennet family, reviewing them in his mind. Mrs. Bennet was an ambitious, husband-hunting woman - and she acted it. Mr. Bennet was a studious, sarcastic, slightly irresponsible man - and he did not hide it. Darcy's head began to ache.
If these Bennets had been brought up by parents who made no effort to hide who they were, why should the girls feel concealment necessary? Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty were flirtatious and wild, Miss Mary was pedantic and self-righteous, Miss Elizabeth was intelligent and high-spirited, and Miss Jane was sweet, innocent, and modest. He rubbed at his temples with his fingers. If Miss Jane were what she appeared, such a humble lady would never reveal tender feelings for a gentleman unless absolutely certain of their being returned. Could Georgiana and Bingley have been correct? Bingley had insisted for nearly an hour that he was certain of Miss Bennet's feelings for him, and Georgiana had related Miss Bennet's distress at seeing her.
But even if Miss Bennet had feelings for Bingley, how could he allow his good friend to marry so far below his station. He paused in his thoughts and remembered his sister's words: "He has met his soul's match, and she, through no fault of her own or his, has what you deem unfit connections ... Would a marriage to an intelligent woman of rank, whom you did not love, satisfy you? Would you be happy in a marriage with our cousin Anne?" He contemplated that. Would he be happy with Anne? The truth was that he did not even know Anne. He had only ever known her in the company of his aunt. She had always, according to her mother, been very much looking forward to their future union. Indeed, Lady Catherine often spoke of the engagement as an established thing, and he supposed that perhaps it was, as he had never done anything to contradict her.
He pondered this for awhile, weighing Anne against many of the young women of his acquaintance. Many of them did not compare favourably, for though Anne was certainly no wit, she was quiet, well-bred, and of his station in life. Certainly he could not - nay, should not - ask for better.
Elizabeth Bennet's laugh floated down to him from the music-room. He felt an answering smile spread across his features and he closed his eyes, picturing the delightful smile, so well known to him now, that would be lighting her features, the adorable dimples in her cheeks, and the merry sparkle in her eyes. He imagined that she had laughed at some witticism of his, that the eyes and smile and laugh were all meant for him alone, and felt a wave of feeling so strong that it startled him out of his wool-gathering and returned him abruptly to the present. He shook his head to clear it, and gazed ruefully at the ceiling above him. Even if Elizabeth Bennet could love him - and he caught his breath at the thought - she could never be an appropriate wife for him. The thing to do, he knew, would be to further his acquaintance and relationship with Anne, and drive Elizabeth Bennet from his mind.
Another musical laugh reached his ears and he fought the urge lose himself again in the sound. Loving her would do him no good, and he was determined that he would become a fool for her. Rosings Park, Lady Catherine, and Anne would help him realign his priorities and regain his senses. He had never so anticipated a journey to Kent.
Jonathan studied his hands as his aunt's voice washed over him, sensible and gentle.
"She is too young, Jon, you must see that. I met the girl, and she is just that: a girl. In a few years she will be a remarkable woman, but..."
"I am well aware of her age, Aunt Gardiner," Jonathan snapped. "Give me some credit, I beg you."
"Then you - you are not going to pursue her?"
"Well, you have certainly changed your tune since Christmas, but no, Aunt, I am not. I have given this great thought, and I do not wish to appear in the same light as the villain, whoever he is, who hurt her. I will be her friend, and little more than that. But I am only a man, and if she gives me encouragement - if she leads me to believe that she loves me, I cannot promise that I will be wise."
"I only ask you to be careful and considerate."
"I understand Mr. Bingley called today." Mrs. Gardiner was by no means satisfied, but accepted this change of subject without question.
"Yes, he did, and poor Jane did not know how to look. He explained that he had only just heard of her presence in town, and begged her to excuse his sisters, who were engaged and unable to call. He asked after you, and was sorry that you were not here."
Jonathan smiled. "He is a good fellow, Bingley, though I doubt any man is worthy of Jane."
"He is certainly a very handsome, agreeable young man."
"What did you think of his behaviour to Jane?"
Mrs. Gardiner paused. "At first he seemed rather embarrassed, as if he did not know how he would be received, but as it became apparent that Jane bore him no ill will, he warmed considerably. Mr. Gardiner enjoyed his company immensely, but soon Mr. Bingley was so engrossed by Jane that I doubt he knew that we were in the room."
"Yes, that sounds like Bingley," Jon laughed. "The epitome of ill-breeding when Jane is near. That is how he was at Netherfield, and I am much mistaken if this is the last you see of him."
"Jane was concerned that his sisters did not call."
"Well, perhaps he has defied them, and they are unhappy with him. I must say, it is no great loss for Jane if she never sees them again. All she needs is a friend in Miss Darcy, and she will see Bingley often enough."
Darcy glanced impatiently at his watch and then looked over at Fitzwilliam, who lounged casually against the mantel. He did not know how Rob could be so nonchalant, when they were about to escort an unknown woman to the theatre. The throngs of gossips who would descend upon them and demand an introduction! He shuddered to think of it.
"Relax, Fitz," Rob called as Darcy checked his watch a fourth time. You know women - want to make an entrance! They'll be along."
As if on cue, Georgiana appeared at the top of the stairs turned out in a white gown trimmed in blue embroidery that exactly matched the colour of her eyes. Blue ribbons had been woven in her golden hair and she smiled uncertainly at her brother and cousin, who stood as if transfixed.
"My God," Darcy whispered as he took her hand and kissed her cheek, "I had forgotten how much you look like our mother."
"I will do, then?" she asked timidly, with tears shining in her eyes at his compliment.
"Do? My dear girl, Fitz and I will be fighting them off with sticks," Robert said, coming forward to wrap her eggshell-blue wrap around her shoulders. "Don't you agree, Fitz?" There was no answer. "Fitz?"
Robert turned to look at his cousin, who was silent because he could not take his eyes from the young lady descending the staircase. Dressed in a gown of deep rose that added colour to her cheeks and sparkle to her eyes, with tiny gold rosettes in her dark curls, she had completely stunned his poor cousin, and Robert watched in amusement as she glanced curiously at him.
"Good evening, Col. Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy," she said.
"Good evening," was Robert's ready reply, but Darcy had yet to say anything. Indeed, he had yet to look away from Elizabeth.
Georgie, fighting a smile, tapped her brother on the shoulder. He started and turned to her. "Yes, Ana?" She giggled.
Robert stepped forward. "Miss Bennet wished you good evening Darcy."
"Oh..." Colouring slightly, he turned back to Elizabeth. "Good - good evening, Miss Bennet."
She nodded coolly and turned to accept her wrap from the servant. Darcy felt despair settle on him. He could never say the correct thing when she was near.
"You look remarkably well this evening, Miss Bennet," Rob said gallantly. "I declare, with such ladies with us Fitz and I will be the envy of every man in town!"
Elizabeth and Georgiana smiled and blushed, and Robert offered his arm to Georgiana. She thanked him and they proceeded out to the carriage. He turned to her and whispered, "Let us see how Fitz handles this, eh?" Georgiana laughed quietly.
"Permit me, Miss Bennet?" Darcy said softly, regaining some of his composure. She took his arm in the lightest of grips, but it was enough. Gathering his courage he said, "You do look remarkably well this evening."
Elizabeth turned to him to deliver another cool response, but the intensity of his gaze and voice stopped the icy words she had been preparing. She smiled instead, a smile of genuine gratitude and warmth, the very smile he had always dreamed of seeing turned on him, and Darcy felt his breath hitch again. He handed her into the carriage, his heart still beating an erratic rhythm, and took a deep breath to steady himself. Good Lord, he thought wearily to himself, how will I convince myself to give her up?
Chapter 26
Elizabeth had often had occasion to go to the theatre, but she had never had a seat in a box. She tried very hard to be unimpressed, as she, Georgie, Mr. Darcy, and Col. Fitzwilliam climbed the stairs to the Darcy family box, but it was very difficult. Behind her, Georgie and the colonel talked and laughed, but Mr. Darcy had said hardly a word to her since he had handed her into the carriage. She did not quite know what to make of his reticence, but hoped she had done nothing to offend him.
That in itself was a new experience for Elizabeth. She was not accustomed to fretting over someone's opinion of her, and she sincerely hoped that this new self-consciousness was fleeting. As they neared the box, a man held the curtain so that they could sweep through the archway. Mr. Darcy stood back to allow Elizabeth to pass first, and heard his name called.
"Darcy! I say, man, we didn't know you'd returned!"
Darcy's face assumed an odd expression, halfway between a smile and a grimace, and he turned to greet the newcomer. "Hello, Foxworthy."
"Thought you'd at least stop in at the club to let us know you were back, Darcy," Mr. Foxworthy scolded him. "Hello, Fitzwilliam," he added to the colonel. His eyes fell on Georgiana. "Well!" he exclaimed. "Will you not introduce me to your beautiful companion?"
Georgiana blushed and studied her shoes. Col. Fitzwilliam said easily, "Of course, Foxworthy. Georgiana, this is Mr. James Foxworthy. Foxworthy, Miss Georgiana Darcy."
"Delighted, my dear lady," Foxworthy bowed over hand. "But Darcy? Surely not Darcy's sister!"
"None other, Foxworthy," Darcy said rather tightly.
"Why, she's a woman grown! You had us convinced she was a mere schoolgirl!" He smiled at Georgiana.
Elizabeth, rather weary of standing in the box by herself, stepped out from behind the curtain to see what had delayed her companions. Foxworthy's eyes turned on her and widened. "Trying to keep all the lovely ladies to yourself, Darcy?" he said. "Why didn't you tell me you had another companion?"
"Miss Bennet, this is Mr. James Foxworthy," Darcy said testily. "Foxworthy, Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
"You two are the luckiest men in the world," Foxworthy declared after bowing to Elizabeth. "With two such beauties! Are you a cousin of the Darcys, Miss Bennet?"
Elizabeth restrained a laugh and said, "No, sir; Miss Darcy is a very dear friend of mine, and invited me to spend the holidays with her in Town."
"Excellent, excellent! Then you'll be attending tomorrow's ball?"
"Ball?" Georgiana said with some interest. "Fitzwilliam, I did not know we had been invited to a..."
"I sent our regrets, dearest. I did not think that..."
"Regrets!" exclaimed his friend, who was beginning to wear out his welcome. "We can't have that! Darcy, you must say you'll come and bring these lovely ladies with you. You wouldn't want to deprive Miss Bennet of all the delights she can have while she is in town, would you?" When Darcy did not reply, he concluded, "Excellent. Well, then, as you will be attending, Miss Bennet, I take this opportunity of soliciting your hand for the first dance."
Elizabeth paused, afraid that she might either laugh or scream. In fact, as she gave the matter more thought, this man appeared to resemble Mr. Collins, with an only slightly better fashion sense. Am I destined to be forever fending off fools? she thought desperately. Instead of laughing at him or running away, however, she simply smiled politely and accepted his invitation, adding, "if I am in attendance." to show Mr. Darcy that she would not bully him into escorting them. Even so, Mr. Darcy's mood seemed to grow quite sour, and Elizabeth hoped that the play would enliven him.
Darcy thought that he might go mad. Every two minutes, another gentleman would enter the box and, feigning surprise at the presence of his companions, subtly - or not so subtly, at times - demand an introduction. If one more man looked at Elizabeth with that calculating gaze, or smiled at his sister with that sugary expression, Darcy would call him out - hang the proprieties! He was angry, also, that Elizabeth's admirers bothered him more than did Georgiana's. Over Georgiana's associations he held some power, but over Elizabeth's he had none, and he would rather visit Mrs. Bennet than sit back and watch as one man after another courted her favour.
Another visitor entered the box while Fitzwilliam and the ladies were out, and Darcy turned ready to inform the intruder that his real objects were walking around the theatre and to leave him be, when he recognized the man.
"Bingley!" he said in accents of relief. "Thank God it is you. I was ready to throw myself off the balcony if you were another cloying toadeater."
Charles Bingley smiled. "Had a rough time of it, eh? I did hear downstairs that you have a pair of stunningly beautiful ladies with you..."
"My sister and Miss Elizabeth, and if you dare..."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Darce. Fact is, I'm only here to tell Miss Elizabeth that her sister and brother are here, though, come to think of it, I'm sure she already knows."
"You invited them, I presume," Darcy said wearily.
"I did, along with their excellent aunt and uncle. Darcy, you really should meet them. They're extraordinary people; not like...well, not like their relatives, if you understand me."
Darcy leaned back in his chair, fingering his temples. He felt the beginning twinges of a headache. "Your visit went well, then?"
"Very well. I had not expected so kind a reception." There was a pause, and then Bingley said quietly. "I begin to think - well, you mustn't take this the wrong way, Darce, but I think you were mistaken about Miss Bennet. I know you observed her, but - but I have had the opportunity of speaking to her, and speaking to her often. She is not indifferent to me. In fact, in time I think she might..." Bingley sighed. "What do you think, old man?"
Darcy looked at him incredulously, but before he could speak, Miss Bingley swept into the box. "Charles!" she exclaimed. "We have been searching for you everywhere! Mr. Gardiner wanted to speak with you about our grandfather's...about business," she concluded lamely, with a glance at Darcy.
Bingley winked at Darcy. "Well, I suppose I should oblige my guest. Can't offend him, you know - too much at stake!" He hurried off.
Miss Bingley saw her brother off with a false smile, and then turned to Mr. Darcy with an expression of desperation and malice. The change was so startling that Darcy blinked several times.
"Good evening, Miss Bingley," he said mildly.
"Mr. Darcy, I must beg your assistance," Miss Bingley hissed, coming to sit beside him and clutching his arm. Her long fingernails dug into the flesh under the sleeve, and Darcy bit his lip in pain, carefully extricating himself from her grip.
"Assistance, madam?"
"Charles is make the greatest fool of himself over that - that upstart! I do not blame your dear sister for informing him of her arrival in town, for the poor dear probably did not know to what lengths Jane will go to acquire a beau. He invited her here this evening, and those relatives of hers, as well! He must be stopped, Mr. Darcy, and you, whose opinion he so values, are the most influential person to..."
"Enough, Miss Bingley," Darcy said tightly. "I am very sorry if you do not approve your brother's choice of companions, but it is his choice."
"Charles is so impetuous; he does not see things the way that we do."
Darcy winced. Caroline Bingley suggesting that he and she had anything in common was particularly painful to him. "Madam, I am done acting as your brother's keeper; it does neither of us any good. He is a man grown and will make his own choices, and short of offering him my honest opinion, there is nothing more I can do. I will not be drawn into an intrigue!"
"But - but your sister - surely you wish..."
"I had, at one point, entertained such a notion, but Georgiana is still a child, and I would certainly not consider giving her in marriage for some time; even if I were tempted, she does not love your brother, and I could never assign her the miserable fate of a loveless marriage." Even as he spoke the words, embarrassment washed over him. Had he not assigned the same fate for himself? That is different, he told himself firmly. How it was different, he did not know, but he pushed the thought aside, deciding to enjoy Miss Bingley's pole-axed expression. "I will do no more to separate Miss Bennet and Charles, Miss Bingley."
The sound of laughter interrupted anything Miss Bingley may have wanted to say, and Darcy's party entered the box, followed by Bingley, Miss Bennet, Jonathan Bennet, and two genteel-looking people Darcy did not know.
"Shan't forget that in a hurry," Fitzwilliam was saying, still chuckling over the remembrance of some joke.
Bennet smiled. "I assure you, though, that the dog howling in the street was complete coincidence. I never orchestrated that..."
Fitzwilliam laughed harder. "There was a dog in the street? I couldn't tell him from Fullmore's singing!"
Elizabeth Bennet was smiling at her brother. "Really, Jonathan, does Papa know about these - er - activities? Convincing a man that he sings like an angel..."
"Of course our father knows, dear sister. He is kind enough not to mention them to Mama, however; and do not imagine for one moment that Fullmore deserves your pity."
"A true, dyed-in-the-wool scoundrel, that one," Fitzwilliam affirmed, sitting down on the other side of Miss Bingley.
"Well, Darcy," Bingley called, "I'd like to introduce you to someone." Obligingly, and not without a little trepidation, Darcy approached the couple standing beside his friend. "Darcy, I present Mr. Edward Gardiner and his wife. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy."
Darcy executed a bow, wary of their sharp eyes. "Delighted, sir, madam." A sharp glance from Bingley told him that the tone of his voice was not entirely convincing. "Do you visit the theatre often?"
"Not as often as I should wish," Mrs. Gardiner answered in a soft voice that took him off guard. After exposure to Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips, her gentle tones were a bit of a shock.
"I'm afraid the theatre is Madelyn's arena," Mr. Gardiner said. "She's read every play ever produced, and likes nothing better than to see them acted. I like the theatre myself, to some degree, but my bent runs more toward the outdoors."
"Our uncle Gardiner is an avid fisherman," Elizabeth said, having drawn near to the group.
"Are you indeed, sir?" Darcy said, feeling a growing interest.
"Yes ... I never feel more at ease than when I am among our Lord's creation. Reading is a grand thing, and I shouldn't know what to do without my books, but there is something about sitting by a stream with a line, taking in nature."
Darcy, for the first time that evening, smiled. "It is odd, then, that you have chosen to live in London."
"London is a bit suffocating every now and again," Mr. Gardiner concurred, "but when I feel shut in or dissatisfied, I only have to look out my window and see - well, see the street and its urchins, as it were, and I am grateful for what I have."
The music began to play, and the Gardiners and Bingleys were beginning to talk of leaving the box for their own seats below, when Darcy surprised everyone, including himself, by inviting them to stay in the box. There was, he insisted, plenty of room, and the view of the stage was a particularly good one. In point of fact, the box was rather crowded, having not been intended to seat ten people at once, and Darcy could only be thankful that the Hursts had not accompanied Bingley.
Miss Bingley had, somehow, been moved behind him, beside Fitzwilliam who, Darcy knew, would take ample pleasure in teasing and by other means tormenting her. Elizabeth was on Darcy's left and Jonathan Bennet on her other side, Georgiana on his right with Mrs. Gardiner beside her. Mr. Gardiner sat directly behind his wife, next to Miss Bingley, and Bingley and Miss Bennet sat to the Colonel's left. What the play entailed, Darcy hardly knew. He was too much engaged in the feeling of contentment that inexplicably stole over his senses, and too amused by Miss Bingley's growing frustration with Fitzwilliam's refusal - based upon his perfect view of the stage - to trade chairs with her so that she might sit beside her brother.
Chapter 27
Elizabeth entered the breakfast-room at her accustomed time, despite having slept only a few hours since their arrival at the townhouse early that morning. Mr. Darcy, to her surprise, was before her, reading a newspaper with an odd smile on his face. She collected her coffee and eggs from the footman and chose a chair.
"Has the news become so amusing that you smile to read it, Mr. Darcy?" she asked pertly.
"Not precisely amusing," was his answer, "but you may find it so." He gave her the section he had been reading, which was titled "Social Pages". With growing unease, she read the paragraph that he indicated.
It has come to the Author's attention that a Truly Remarkable Thing has occurred. Last night, at the production of Mr. Shakespeare's The Tempest, three new Jewels appeared in the British Crown of Beauty. Who these Remarkable Young Ladies are can only be partially answered, as of two of them, little is known. Seen in the company of three of London's Most Eligible Young Men, these Ladies have garnered much Praise from nearly every quarter, and have gained the Admiration of even this satirical Author. One, a delicate blond Angel, is the Sister of One of the aforementioned Eligible Young Men; the others, another Golden Angel and a Dark-Haired Beauty, are largely Unknown, but Universally Admired. Beware your Hearts, Young Men, if such Ladies as these are an Indication of this Season's Beauties.
Elizabeth placed the paper on the table, and looked up into Mr. Darcy's unfathomable gaze. "It is interesting," she said, "that so many people read this. It is so ambiguous!"
Mr. Darcy laughed very softly. "It is not in the least ambiguous, Miss Bennet. The young ladies mentioned are none other than my sister, you, and your sister."
"That is the closest thing to nonsense that I have ever heard you utter, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth sputtered, blushing.
"What is it?" a newly arrived Georgiana asked.
"You have made the gossip columns, my dear," Mr. Darcy said. Elizabeth was still uncertain as to his feelings about this. She would venture to guess that no Darcy had ever appeared in the gossip columns before.
Georgiana paled considerably and, in an uncharacteristic gesture, fairly snatched the paper from Elizabeth's hand, poring over its contents. Darcy, looking alarmed, had risen to his feet and hurried to her side.
"Oh, dearest, forgive me, I did not mean...Georgiana, please, I only meant this paragraph here, about you and Miss Elizabeth. I did not think you would believe...I did not even consider..."
The newspaper fluttered to the floor and Georgiana fell into a chair with her hand over her eyes, weeping inconsolably. Darcy knelt at her side, his face the picture of self-reproach and concern, and held her hands between his, as if trying to confer some of his strength to her. She slumped in the chair and her head came to rest on his shoulder, and he stroked her curls soothingly, seeming unable to say a word.
For Elizabeth, this scene was very touching, extremely perplexing, and thoroughly uncomfortable. Her eyes wandered between Georgiana's white, tear-streaked face and Darcy's anguished one. Quietly she tiptoed to the breakfast-room door and left them to themselves, certain that whatever had prompted such an incident was not her concern, but no less curious for all that.
Georgiana had retired to her room to recover herself, and Darcy went to the library, his late father's and his own favourite sanctuary, and sank into an armchair with his head in his hands. What the devil had overcome him to make a remark like that so carelessly, so flippantly? He knew, better than anyone else in the entire world, save Robert, how such a circumstance would affect her, and he had given her reaction not one moment's thought!
Darcy thought himself worthy of the harshest punishment. How could he cause such pain to someone so dear to him? Where had those wonderful sentries, who usually stood post beside his tongue, gone? He had always been most cautious of what he said to Georgiana, and now, mere months after that wretched Ramsgate incident, he had teased her about having her name in the gossip pages! Her peace of mind, her confidence, had been completely uprooted and destroyed, and he had been the author of it all! His chest constricted and he could scarce breathe for the pain. He was a heel, unworthy of human companionship.
Elizabeth stood outside Georgiana's door, uncertain as to whether her company would be welcome. The sounds of weeping had long since ceased, leaving Elizabeth to conclude that Georgiana had either fallen asleep or was unable to cry any longer. She bit her lip, undecided, and then concluded that she was merely offering her support, not asking for explanations. She knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" Georgiana's voice called, small and timid.
"It is Elizabeth, Georgie," Elizabeth answered. "May I come in?"
"Of - of course," was the reply, and Elizabeth turned the knob and entered the room.
Georgiana sat on her bed, two soiled handkerchiefs beside her and a third clutched in her hand. She gave Elizabeth a watery smile. "You must think me such a little fool for making such a fuss over a paragraph in the gossip columns."
Elizabeth paused. "I do not fully understand the reason for your distress, Georgie, but it is none of my affair. I am here only to serve as a shoulder."
"I thank you for that," Georgiana said, then sighed and continued. "But, Lizzy, you deserve more than that. You are my closest friend, and I have never shared with you my reasons for living Netherfield so quickly this autumn, and you certainly should know the reason for my silly outburst."
"Georgie, you must not feel that you have to tell me anything," Elizabeth protested.
"I know that I do not have to," Georgiana said, her smile stronger. "It is because I do not have to that I want to." She looked rather confused for a moment. "I think." Elizabeth laughed, and Georgiana giggled, then sobered. "It is a very long story, Lizzy, and I doubt that I will still have your respect and friendship when you know all."
"That is the greatest nonsense I have ever heard you speak. Nothing could take my friendship from you."
Georgiana smiled weakly. "So you say now." She studied her handkerchief for a long moment, and then looked up, into the distance. "I presume that you are acquainted with Lieutenant George Wickham."
Elizabeth was surprised. "Yes, I know Mr. Wickham."
"I am sure, then, that you know of his relationship to my family."
"The son of your late father's steward, correct."
"Yes. However, to my father he was much more than that. He was like another son, and when Old Mr. Wickham died, my father took the present Mr. Wickham into his care, sent him to school, loved him, as I said, like a son. He wanted to provide for Mr. Wickham, and thought that he would go into the church - he meant to bequeath on him a living. When my father died, Mr. Wickham visited my brother and told him that he did not mean to go into the church, but meant to study the law. He requested that Fitzwilliam compensate him for the parish he did not want, and Fitzwilliam gave him three thousand pounds. A few years ago, having spent all of the money on Heaven only knows what, he approached Fitzwilliam, claimed that the law had not suited him, and demanded the parish our father had bequeathed to him. Fitzwilliam refused, and Mr. Wickham grew angry." Georgiana paused and sighed. "You must understand that I knew very little of this at the time. I knew that Mr. Wickham had refused my father's offer, gone away to study the law, and had run upon hard times, but I did not know what sort of life he led - a life, as I know now, of debauchery and frivolity. He was only too willing to inform me later." She shuddered, and Elizabeth wondered that she had ever admired George Wickham. "Only last summer," Georgiana continued, "I left school and went to Ramsgate with a trusted companion - trust that was misplaced, evidently, because only two days after my arrival, who should appear but Mr. Wickham himself! He visited me everyday, and talked with me so kindly..." Georgiana turned to Elizabeth almost desperately.
"You have seen him, Lizzy," she said. "You have seen how charming and kind he can be, you have seen how - how - but of course you didn't. You are far wiser than I, and I am sure you saw through his duplicity, his cunning..."
"Georgie, darling," Elizabeth exclaimed with not a little alarm, "please calm yourself. I must confess that for a short time I was, er, thoroughly charmed by Mr. Wickham. It is all done away; I haven't the least admiration, or even liking for him now, but you must not feel as if you are alone in your deception. Half of Meryton is madly in love with him."
Georgiana shook her head. "You are much wiser than I am, Lizzy. He declared himself in love with me. He claimed that he had never felt such powerful emotion for any woman, that he had loved me for years but been too ashamed of his prospects to say anything, but that he could no longer contain himself. I believed him, and I let him persuade me to love him. It is so easy to persuade a girl of fifteen to fall in love, Lizzy! So horribly, horribly simple! He was handsome, he was charming, he was kind, and I tumbled into his spell quite happily." Georgiana took a deep breath and composed herself.
"In a matter of weeks, he told me that he wished to marry me. I agreed, of course. I suggested that he write home immediately and ask Fitzwilliam's consent. He said that he could not, because Fitzwilliam would never allow us to marry, that no matter how much we loved each other Fitzwilliam would stand in our way because he could not bear to see his sister married to the steward's son. He said that if I loved him as he did me, I would elope with him and be married at Gretna Green. It was torture to me to deceive Fitzwilliam, but I loved him so completely!" Georgiana's throat constricted and she could say no more for a very long time.
Elizabeth was speechless. She had known that something was amiss with Wickham, but this! She did not know what to say to alleviate such pain as Georgiana obviously felt.
"I was fortunate," Georgiana whispered at last. "Fitzwilliam came to visit me the very day before our intended elopement. At the sight of him, I could no longer bear to deceive and pain him so terribly, and so I told him all, and asked if he would give his consent rather than force us to elope. He was so - so angry. He had Mr. Wickham brought to him and told him that he knew of our plans, and Mr. Wickham said - he said..."
"Trust her to come running to you," Wickham said scornfully. "I should have known the minute I saw you. I'll wager you wrote him long ago, didn't you Georgiana?"
"Of course not, George!" Georgiana protested. "I haven't written a word..."
"I don't believe you. He pretty nearly ignores you all summer, and only now appears - the very day before our departure, no less!?"
"George, you mustn't say such things!" Georgiana cried, clutching his arm. "Fitzwilliam will never consent to our marriage if you are not more respectful!"
"Marriage!" exclaimed Darcy. "You still wish to marry him, Ana? After what he has tried to lure you to do?"
"Please, Fitzwilliam, I love him," Georgiana pleaded.
"You see, Darce?" Wickham said with a malicious grin Georgiana did not see, placing his arm around her shoulders. "She loves me. She wants to marry me."
"You would marry this man against my wishes and my advice, Georgiana? Even when you know that I love you and want only the best for you?"
"Oh ... well..." Georgiana paused, for she had never expressly disobeyed her brother before. When no more concrete answer was forthcoming, Darcy continued,
"If, and only if, I give my consent to this wedding, Wickham, you will not get one ha'penny from me. I control her fortune until she is of age, and I will make sure of it that you receive nothing. Do you want to marry my sister now?"
"You must not be so cruel, Fitzwilliam," Georgiana said, tears streaming from her eyes. "George only wishes to marry me because he loves me! He does not care about the money!"
"You would do that to your own sister?" Wickham hissed.
"Not at all. She will not be affected. I would have no qualms in denying you any pecuniary assistance."
A muscle in Wickham's jaw twitched, and he turned, wrenched Georgiana's hand from his sleeve, and taking her arm thrust her at her brother. "Take her back, then, and welcome!"
"George!" Georgiana cried, utterly astounded. "Do you mean you do not want to marry me?"
"Marry you? You honestly think I would forego all life's pleasures for the privilege of playing house with a spiritless little mouse like you?"
"But ... but..." Georgiana stammered, "Gretna Green ... what of our plans?"
"You are a little fool," Wickham said with a sneer. "You must know I haven't the funds to travel all the way to Gretna. I would merely have had to take you into hiding and wait for your darling brother to offer any amount of money for your safe return. And who knows but we may have had a little fun during the meantime..." Georgiana burst into tears, and then fainted into her brother's arms.
"And I do not know what happened next," Georgiana said quietly. Nearly two hours had passed since she had begun her tale, and the telling of it had been full of pauses and tears. "I only know that my brother ordered Mr. Wickham out of his sight, and discharged Mrs. Younge, who was found out to be an accomplice of his. Now you know what I really am, Lizzy - what a hopeless, witless fool, and I do not blame you if you wish to leave and never speak to me again."
Elizabeth, who could not speak for the tightness in her throat, merely gathered Georgiana in her arms in a tender embrace. "You poor girl," she finally whispered. "You are not to blame, and your brother will never accuse you of being so. I do not now wonder at your fear of appearing in gossip columns, but I am sure your brother has settled things so that no one will ever know."
"I asked him to," Georgiana said, pulling out of Elizabeth's arms and staring broodily at the fire, "but now I wonder if it was wise. Now Mr. Wickham is free to wander England and destroy as many young ladies as he chooses without fear of disclosure. What is my reputation, compared to the safety and virtue of scores of young women?"
"You made the only decision you could, my dear. I, for one, will never breathe a word."
"No!" Georgiana said vehemently. "That is what I do not wish. When you go back to Longbourn, tell your father and mother so that they may be on the watch. I could not bear to think that you might be hurt by my pride, Lizzy."
"I will tell my father, Georgie, I promise, but not my mother, for she has no discretion at all." Georgiana nodded her consent, and then yawned delicately. "You are tired," Elizabeth said, "and no wonder. Rest, dear."
"I will." Georgiana rested against her pillows and said sleepily, "It is so wonderful to have someone to talk to."
Elizabeth smiled. "I know." But Georgiana had fallen asleep.
Elizabeth found Mr. Darcy slouched in an armchair in the library. When she entered, he raised his head and said,
"Is she well?"
"She is very tired, and has gone to sleep. She will be well."
"She has told you then?"
"Everything."
Darcy shuddered. "You now hold my family's reputation in your hands, Miss Bennet."
"Do not be ridiculous. She might just as well have told your horse, for he would be more likely to spread the tale than I."
At that, he smiled wanly. "Perhaps so." He took a deep breath. "I have always done everything in my power to protect her, to shelter her from the wicked and harsh ways of the world, and in that one instance that I did not do all I could, in that one moment of negligence, I ran the risk of losing her completely. How could I have failed her so abominably?" His head drooped again and he ran a hand over his eyes.
Elizabeth came to stand beside him. "She must grow up, you know," she said very gently. "She has grown up to be a credit to you; you must see that. You have produced such a woman as is rarely found on Earth, but you are only human, and you can never shelter her from life. Sooner or later, she must face reality without your help."
"I know you are right, Miss Elizabeth, and words cannot express..." He stopped and looked up at her with such emotion in his gaze that Elizabeth's breath was fairly taken from her. Giving himself a small shake, he rose and began to leave the room, but turned again to face her and took her hand in his, bowing over it to press his lips to it. When he straightened, he said, "Thank you," with such fervency that her heart fluttered and a blush rose in her cheeks. Their eyes locked for a moment, and then he was gone. Elizabeth stood with her hand still outstretched, wondering if it were possible that she was beginning to fall in love with Mr. Darcy.
Chapter 28
"Oh, Lizzy, you have never looked so beautiful," Georgiana sighed as Becky brushed the last glossy dark curl and delicately adjusted pins in the elaborate coiffure.
Elizabeth blushed. "I am nothing to you, Georgie. That blue is so becoming to you!" Georgiana glanced at the lovely sky blue gown with the delicate white lace on the neckline. Golden threads had been woven into the material so that she seemed to glow in the candlelight.
"Avoiding the subject will not answer, Lizzy," Georgiana laughed. "I promise you, my brother will be positively speechless."
"Of course he will. You look quite the lady..."
Georgiana laughed. "Not speechless about me! I meant that he will be struck speechless by you!"
"Nonsense," Elizabeth said, a little embarrassed. "If anything, I seem to bring out in Mr. Darcy everything that is verbose and vehement."
"Unless I am very much mistaken," Georgiana said with an impish smile, "tonight will be an exception." She turned and swept out of the room.
Becky smiled encouragingly at Elizabeth in the mirror. "If I may say so, Miss, you're a right beauty tonight."
"Thank you, Becky," Elizabeth answered, and Becky made her curtsy and left her to her thoughts.
She contemplated the barely recognizable woman in the mirror. The gown was of the deepest midnight blue - no lace because of her father's detestation of it - decorated with blue and gold beads in intricate designs at the neckline and hems, and a dark gold sash. The colour was so rich and vibrant, and brought such a lustre to her eyes and hair, and made her skin look so delicately fair, that she looked like a lady of the aristocracy - an ornament whose brain was never taxed by anything more difficult than the conjugation of a French verb. She was not at all certain that she liked the transformation.
Elizabeth could not, of course, see the intelligence that shone in her eyes, or the glint of mischief in her smile that would set her apart from all the china dolls of London. She sighed, rather afraid to descend the stairs. Since the events of the morning, she trembled at the prospect of seeing Mr. Darcy again. That man! He was such a conundrum, a living paradox, a breathing puzzle that she could not make out. He seemed to enjoy her company, but was always so restrained that no one could be certain of his thoughts. He was polite, but no more, and why this disappointed her so she could not tell; she only knew that her heart skipped when he smiled, and that her face warmed when their eyes met.
What has become of me? she berated herself. I have gone all fluttery and weak, and he is only a man! But Mr. Darcy was not, she knew, only a man. His sister loved and respected him, and he was the kindest and most attentive guardian Elizabeth had ever seen. His servants adored him - she had accidentally overheard a conversation between his valet and his butler - and how many men in England could claim that? He was steady, responsible, learned, intelligent, handsome, and, when he chose it, charming. Elizabeth closed her eyes. This was not a particularly helpful chain of thought.
Mustering her courage and what remained of her sanity, she walked to the staircase and, descending, valiantly resisted the charm of a certain pair of handsome dark eyes that seemed unable to look away from her.
Darcy had never been in such an abominably sour mood in all of his life. He had entered the ballroom with the most beautiful woman in London on his arm, and he had not seen her since.
That was not true. He had seen her, watched her dance set after set as she accumulated admirers by the dozens. She was so blithe, so carefree - he had asked her for a dance one-third of the way through the evening.
"Oh, dear," she had replied, looking genuinely disappointed. "I am sorry, Mr. Darcy, but my card is completely filled."
Forcing a smile onto his face, he had said, "Madame Roucheau did warn you."
"Nonsense," Elizabeth had answered with a blush. "They are merely coming to gape at the country upstart."
He had shaken his head and said gallantly, "If they gape, it is because they know they are fortunate to be in your company." He had expected her to smile or laugh, but instead she became intensely interested in her dance card, her colour deepening. Her "thank you" had been scarcely audible, and he could not think of anything else to say until her partner came and took her away.
Darcy tossed back his glass of punch, more from than frustration than thirst. He turned from the dance floor, weary of watching Elizabeth smiling and charming another admirer. A fan tapped his arm, and he turned with a very irritable expression, only to find himself face to face with his aunt, the Countess Manchester.
"My dear Aunt!" he exclaimed with a genuine smile as he kissed her cheek. "It is wonderful to see you. How do you do? Is the Earl about?"
Lady Manchester had been a Gregory, a sister of Darcy's mother, and had married the Earl of Manchester. At first glance she seemed everything that a proper countess should be, but one glance into her twinkling eyes, and one immediately saw where Col. Fitzwilliam and his elder brother Geoffrey had inherited their love of mischief and their infectious smiles. At the mention of her husband however, her smile dimmed slightly. "He is still unwell, but he insisted that I come tonight and enjoy myself. Geoffrey is with me," she gestured at her eldest son, who was talking with a young lady across the hall, "but Robert was called into the camp. His father and I do so worry about him..." Her voice trailed away.
"Georgiana will be delighted to see you," Darcy said, offering her his arm and beginning a circuit of the room.
"She is here, then? I did not see her." When Darcy indicated her position on the dance floor, Lady Manchester gasped. "That is Georgiana? I hardly recognize her! She is so - so like her mother."
"I know," Darcy sighed. "She is a different person, Aunt. Her companion Mrs. Annesley and her new friend have worked a miracle."
"Ah, yes," Lady Manchester stopped and turned to him. "The famous Miss Bennet. I have heard much about her from Robert."
"All the highest praise, I'm sure," Darcy said, unable to conceal some measure of bitterness in his voice.
"Indeed. I have heard of her from him, and from nearly every gentleman and lady present tonight. Except..." and she turned her piercing eyes on his face, "from you. I am extremely curious to discover what you think of this exceptional young lady."
Darcy laughed shortly, but the laugh did not sound pleasant to his ears. It was sharp and humourless, and his aunt winced to hear it. "What does it matter what I think of her? She is certainly not lacking attention."
Lady Manchester's eyes narrowed and she scrutinized his face narrowly as he watched Elizabeth gliding around the floor. Amazed at what she saw there, she laughed, and Darcy turned to look at her.
"Something amuses you, Aunt?"
"You, my boy, are positively smitten with her."
Darcy flushed deeply. "That is ridiculous. I would never so far forget myself..."
"Do not try to talk sense, Darcy. Falling in love is the least sensible thing in the world, which makes it the most wonderful event in a person's life, I happen to think. There is too much emphasis on sense in this world, and I think it would be a good thing for you to..."
"My dear aunt," Darcy interrupted, looking more embarrassed by the moment, "can we not continue this discussion at a later date? My personal life is not something I should like to become the topic of tea-table gossip!"
"Certainly, but do not think that you shall escape me so easily." Lady Manchester looped her arm through his again. "The dance has ended, and I insist that you introduce me to that young lady at once."
Darcy consented, although his consent was hardly required, and performed the requested introduction. Elizabeth's partner for the next dance had not yet come to claim her, and so she indulged in the rare opportunity to sit and be still, talking quietly with Lady Manchester.
"My son Robert speaks of you a great deal," the Countess said with no preface. "I understand you hail from Hertfordshire?"
"Yes, my lady, my father is Thomas Bennet of Longbourn."
"Why, you must be young Jonathan Bennet's sister!" Lady Manchester said with surprise. "I do not understand why I did not realize it - you have such similar looks. How is that boy?"
Elizabeth felt no little surprise herself at discovering that Jonathan was acquainted with the Countess of Manchester. How was it that he had never mentioned it? "You are acquainted with my brother, my lady?"
"Only very slightly, my dear; Robert brought him to dinner a few times, and he is quite the charmer."
"I only wonder that he never mentioned your ladyship before. I would think that..."
"Oh, your parents would be delighted, beyond a doubt," Lady Manchester said, "but perhaps that is what he was avoiding. You see, I have a daughter as well."
"Oh." Elizabeth was silent, imagining her mother's reaction to Jonathan's acquaintance with the daughter of an earl. Perhaps he had been right not to mention this connection. "I hope your ladyship is not offended."
"You may cease calling me 'your ladyship', if you please. It gives me the fidgets."
Elizabeth laughed. "You are not at all what one would expect. As a countess, and furthermore, as Mr. Darcy's aunt..." She flushed and was quiet.
Lady Manchester glanced at her curiously. "What were you saying, my dear?"
"Only - only that you are so unlike your nephew."
"You expected a high-handed, arrogant woman with a knack for poking her abnormally long nose where it is not wanted?"
Elizabeth blushed more deeply and studied her hands. "Such a thought may have crossed my mind."
"Add a loud voice and a ridiculous clergyman, and you would have the full measure of my sister Catherine." Lady Manchester sighed. "I do love her as a sister should, but at times she tries my patience sorely. However, my sister and I agree on very few things, and many people say that we are as different as night and day. I warn you, though, that I am a bit inquisitive, but you must tell me if you feel that I am being too impertinent."
"I am afraid that I cannot help you there. Impertinence is not as repulsive to me as it is to some; I confess that I am rather fond of it."
"How on earth have you survived living with my nephew, then? He inherited all of his father's strictest notions of propriety, and I am sure he has never been even slightly impertinent in his life."
Elizabeth smiled. "I seem to bring out the worst in him. He did not at all approve of me when first we met, and I must say that the dislike was mutual, but Georgie and I developed a friendship before he knew what was happening. I do not think that I would have been invited for the holidays, had he had any say in the matter."
"You and my nephew did not start out well, you say?"
"Oh, not at all. As a matter of fact, for several weeks I could scarcely speak to him without growing angry, and he rarely spoke to me at all. It was all a misunderstanding that has since been cleared up, and I daresay we are becoming friends."
"And Georgiana - I suppose you and she were friends from the beginning?"
"Almost. She is such a sweet girl that it is impossible not to like her, and it seemed odd that she could be related to such a brother - that is, until I knew her brother, of course."
"And you have worked a miracle on her, I am not afraid to say," Lady Manchester said with a little sadness in her voice. "She was always such a sober little thing, very quiet and contained, and then after this summer she really grew quite alarming. I do not know what happened to her, perhaps it was merely the rigours of growing from a girl into a lady, but the family was very concerned. My sister Catherine did not help matters much by asserting that Georgiana must have contracted consumption or some other disease and would die from it, and even blamed my poor nephew for not watching her health more carefully, and said that it would be a great shame on him if she died because of his negligent care." Elizabeth made a strangled noise and Lady Manchester sighed. "She even threatened to sever his betrothal to her daughter Anne, though I doubt the threat carried as much weight as she imagined."
Elizabeth felt herself pale considerably. "Mr. Darcy...betrothed?"
"Not in fact, certainly, and they are each free to choose someone else if they so desire, but Catherine is adamant about it, and many consider it a great match. Anne is a good girl, to be sure, and I am certain that were she removed from her mother's influence she would be much more interesting."
Lady Manchester watched Elizabeth very narrowly during this little speech, saw her face pale and her hands shake slightly, and knew she had been right. Whether or not they chose to admit it, Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet had fallen in love with each other, and Evelyn Fitzwilliam, the Countess of Manchester, intended to encourage them. To begin, she must extend the hand of friendship and show Darcy that his family approved of his young lady.
"Miss Bennet, won't you take tea with me tomorrow?"
Chapter 29
When the door to his aunt's parlour opened, Jonathan looked up from his seat by the fire, rising with Jane and Mrs. Gardiner to greet the newcomer. The visitor, when the butler had shown him in, was not at all unexpected. Mr. Bingley had been a regular caller every day since he had learned of Jane's presence in town. He was such a good humoured fellow, Jonathan often thought to himself, that he could be forgiven for his lack of subtlety. There was no doubt in anyone's mind, except perhaps Jane's, what Mr. Bingley's intentions were.
Mr. Bingley entered the room with more than usual cheer. His greetings were jovial and though he appeared pleased to see them all, Jonathan and his aunt soon had the impression that their presence, though not unwanted was rather unnecessary. Quietly they excused themselves, and when they were in the hall, Jonathan turned to Mrs. Gardiner and said,
"I think there can be little doubt as to what will happen now."
"I only hope he is worthy of her," Mrs. Gardiner said in worried tones. "He was so ready to forget her when he came away to town."
"Now, Aunt, we must not think so negatively. Perhaps he doubted her affection for him, which, with Jane's reserve and modesty, is very much a possibility. And I am very sure that his sisters have been pressuring to make a match elsewhere."
"I heard quite enough of that when that woman came to visit Jane," Mrs. Gardiner said sourly. "If I could only tell Miss Caroline Bingley what I think of her..."
Jonathan laughed. "I think there are many, many people who would gladly give Caroline Bingley the dressing-down of her life, if given the opportunity."
"And you truly believe that a match between Jane and Mr. Bingley will be a good thing? What of your objections to marriage?"
Jonathan hesitated. "I think that Jane and Bingley have a better chance than most to make a marriage successful. They complement each other so perfectly that I think they will be unusually happy. I have ceased to believe that matrimony is an evil, Aunt, though I think that law should prevent certain people from marrying and producing children."
"That is most ungenerous of you, Jon," Mrs. Gardiner said with a smile. "Even fools have the right to be happy."
"Perhaps they don't, if they are too foolish to recognize what is in front of their eyes," Jonathan grumbled.
Mrs. Gardiner glanced skittishly at the drawing-room door. "I do not wish to leave them alone too long. Your father would never forgive me if his daughter was compromised."
"Father might not, but Mama would be beside herself with joy because it would mean the marriage of a daughter. Go in, by all means, but I hope you don't interrupt a tender moment."
As Mrs. Gardiner edged to the door and reached out a tentative hand towards the knob, the door swung open and Mr. Bingley gave them a quick nod of the head, his eyes twinkling, before bounding up the stairs to Mr. Gardiner's study. Jon and Mrs. Gardiner exchanged smiles and entered the drawing-room to find Jane sitting on the sofa, a few tears running down her face.
"Jane, darling, what is the matter?" exclaimed Mrs. Gardiner, highly perplexed.
"The matter? Oh, Aunt, nothing is the matter; everything is as wonderful as can be!" And Jane, with uncharacteristic exuberance, rose and flung herself into her aunt's arms. "He has proposed, Aunt Gardiner! He has proposed. I hoped and hoped, but he was always so kind and friendly, and I was sure he wanted nothing more, but he said he has loved me ever since he met me, or at least very shortly afterwards, and that if he had known I was in town he never would have been able to stay away, and he said that he could not bear the thought of enduring another moment without knowing how I felt, and if I could return his feelings at all, he asked if I would consider becoming his wife! And I said something stupid, like that I was honoured by his feelings and very grateful, and he said that my gratitude was not what he wanted, all he wanted to know was if I could love him, and I told him that I could and did, and that I would be only too happy to agree to marry him because nothing would make me happier, and I am so happy, Aunt!" Jane could say nothing else for want of breath and the tears of joy that were now streaming down her face. Mrs. Gardiner, who by now was weeping as well, said,
"You deserve to be happy, child. I do not know anyone who has more right to be happy than you do."
Jane thanked her aunt, and when they had sufficiently calmed themselves, Jonathan thought it safe to kiss his sister's cheek tenderly and give his heartfelt congratulations. She smiled, and looked as if she were going to burst into tears again, when Bingley entered the room. Her smile grew and her eyes sparkled so that she looked even more beautiful than usual, and Jonathan shook Bingley's hand heartily with all the affection of a brother.
"It is not settled yet, though," Bingley said even as he beamed with satisfaction. "I shall write Mr. Bennet first thing tomorrow to ask his consent."
"Consent?" Jonathan laughed. "There can be no question of his consent. If he were to even think of refusing you, he would not live long enough to pen the letter, my mother will see to that."
Bingley chuckled. "Even so, I won't take the chance. First time I've ever been engaged, you see, and I should like to do the thing properly." He walked over to where Jane sat, seated himself beside her, and took her hand. "We must find you a ring tomorrow."
"A ring?" she said with a hint of flirtation in her voice. "I thought you still needed my father's consent."
He laughed. "Perhaps a ring will sway his decision, and besides, I will not have any other fellows imagining that you are in any way available. You are my fiancée now, and I intend to make sure that everyone knows it."
Jane smiled as he brought her hand to his lips. Jonathan and Mrs. Gardiner began to feel quite out-of-place, and soon afterwards left the young couple to themselves to revel in the beauty of the earliest blooms of a blossoming love.
Elizabeth sat in the drawing-room of the Countess of Manchester's magnificent townhouse, sipping tea and feeling at an utter loss for conversation. Georgiana chatted quite happily with her ladyship, and spoke of her music, lessons, and books with great alacrity, but Elizabeth, for once in her life, was completely silent. This lady was one of Mr. Darcy's nearest relatives, and for reasons Elizabeth would not acknowledge, she longed to make a good impression.
"Lizzy plays beautifully, as well, Aunt," Georgiana said, "and we have had such fun practicing together these last few weeks."
"Have you been enjoying London, Miss Bennet," Lady Manchester asked.
"Oh, very much," Elizabeth replied with a smile. "Georgiana and Mr. Darcy were kind enough to introduce me to ice skating..."
"Ice skating! Do you mean to tell me that Fitzwilliam actually went onto the ice of his own accord?"
"Perhaps not entirely," Elizabeth acknowledged mischievously, "but he could resist his sister's pleading, and he joined us with little complaint."
"Indeed ... could not resist his sister; I completely understand," Lady Manchester said with a sly wink at Georgiana, who giggled. Elizabeth's face reddened.
"Have you heard from Anne, Georgiana?" Lady Manchester asked, and Elizabeth, who knew that she referred to Miss de Bourgh, set her teacup down for fear that it would betray her slightly trembling hands.
"Yes - she is doing well, or as well as she can with Mrs. Jenkins hanging eternally about. She longs to come to London, but Aunt Catherine believes that the air would not be good for her, and the poor doctor does not dare gainsay her."
"For pity's sake," sighed Lady Manchester, "what is the use of consulting a doctor if she is only going to pressure him into seconding her opinions. If Anne were really to fall ill, Heaven forbid, the physician would not know what to do."
"Lady Catherine," Georgiana explained to Elizabeth, "is my other aunt, and she is rather - overzealous intending to the needs of others."
"You understate as usual, Georgiana, but perhaps that is for the best."
"I know of Lady Catherine," Elizabeth said in what she hoped was a casual manner. "She has lately given a living to my cousin, Mr. Collins."
"Ah, has she? Catherine was always very particular about her clergymen, insisted on meeting every applicant herself to determine that he possessed the correct qualities."
"Mr. Collins is extremely grateful for her ladyship's notice. I understand he visits Rosings once a day to express his appreciation."
"Then he certainly must be the kind of clergyman she always searched for."
"Yes, I imagine so. He mentioned that she had a daughter, and I wondered if..."
"Anne is her daughter, and would be a delightful young lady if she were not continually under her mother's thumb. Some are very harsh on poor Catherine for being so protective of Anne, but Anne was not the only child born to Lewis and Catherine - not by any means. Catherine has buried three sons you see - none lived to see their second birthdays - and when Anne came along Catherine was determined not to lose her. However, she protected Anne so thoroughly that the poor girl, while in perfect health, is forced to act the invalid so that she does not worry her mother."
"Fitzwilliam and Robert go to see Lady Catherine and Anne every year at Easter," Georgiana told Elizabeth. "It is expected of Fitzwilliam, and Robert goes to keep him company."
"It is more likely that he goes to make sure that Catherine does not drive poor Fitzwilliam mad," Lady Manchester said.
"My lady, last night did you not mention a betrothal between Mr. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh?" Elizabeth asked, proud that her voice had not shaken.
"Indeed I did. Of course, nothing is ever certain, but it is Catherine's dearest wish that her daughter marry Fitzwilliam. Anne, God rest her soul, wanted Fitzwilliam to be happy, and told Catherine that if he would find happiness with Anne she would very much like to see them marry. Catherine, however, seems to think it a binding contract."
"I am sure it would be a desirable match," Elizabeth said, with less certainty than before.
"Desirable? Certainly, in the way society finds most things desirable these days. Their histories and fortunes are nearly the same, and no doubt all of England would declare it a wonderful match. However, there are more important things. Some people think that I would not have married the Earl if not for his title, but that is absolute rubbish. A title offers little comfort in a loveless marriage, and money makes a very poor substitute for happiness."
Elizabeth smiled and was about to reply, but the sound of a clock chiming had Georgiana springing to her feet. "Good gracious, how the time has flown! Fitzwilliam will have expected us home ages ago!" Georgiana was in such a rush to be gone that Elizabeth had little time for farewells, but the kind look in the Countess's eyes, and her warm smile as she invited Elizabeth to visit her at any time, made her spirits lift and her poise return.
When they arrived at the townhouse, Georgiana apologized to her brother for being so late, but he merely nodded and turned his eyes on Elizabeth. He handed her a note from her sister that had come, he explained, but a few moments after she had left for the Countess's. Elizabeth opened it immediately, read quickly, and then looked up with shining eyes.
"Mr. Bingley has proposed!"
Darcy instantly saw in his mind's eye a grand wedding day, Jane Bennet looking angelic in her wedding gown and Elizabeth positively bewitching in an equally stunning maid-of-honour ensemble. He saw himself, as groomsman, watching her walking down the aisle, coming towards him until at the last moment she turned and took her place at the other side of the altar. He saw himself being forced through long dinners and parties seated near her, always seeing her and being near her. How would he endure it?