5. Chapter 5
Chapter five
January 1812 Darcy House Georgiana
" W hat is that?" Fitzwilliam appeared behind her, and she froze, the last letter from Elizabeth half unfolded in her hand. Although her hand obscured the impression, the seal faced upward. Had her brother seen it?
"Nothing!" she squeaked, her voice high-pitched and slightly frantic. "It is merely a letter from…from Eliza Wilson! Yes, she is a friend…from school!" Biting her lip to stop her rambling, Georgiana slowly lowered the letter to her lap and placed a hand over it. She could feel her cheeks flushing, testifying to the lie that spilled from her lips.
Her brother frowned. "I do not recall you mentioning such a person," he mused. "Is she a very close friend?"
Georgiana struggled to come up with an answer. "Close enough," she finally muttered.
Apparently satisfied, Fitzwilliam turned his attention back to his correspondence. "I do wish Bingley would write legibly," he muttered as he attempted to decipher his friend's writing.
"How is Mr. Bingley?" Georgiana asked. Elizabeth had mentioned him in her letters. Mr. Bingley had, according to her, abandoned her sister, Jane, leaving her heartbroken. Though Georgiana once thought very well of the gentleman, his disgraceful, capricious manner towards the eldest Miss Bennet had infuriated her. Did he not know how fragile a lady's heart was? She knew what it felt like to be discarded with little thought. Poor Miss Bennet, she thought for the hundredth time.
"He is tolerably well," Fitzwilliam replied, reminding Georgiana of the insult her brother had lobbed at Miss Elizabeth. She frowned. "He is in town. They spent the holidays in Surrey at Hurst's estate."
"Why do you say he is tolerable?" she asked innocently. Fitzwilliam glanced up at her for a moment, his lips twitching slightly as he observed her countenance, which she kept carefully blank.
"He suffered a disappointment in the autumn," he finally replied. "Another fortune hunting mama and her daughter tried to ensnare him."
Scoffing, Georgiana poked a bit of egg with her fork. "His sisters disapproved of the lady, did they not?" she asked bitterly.
Her brother looked up, surprise written on his face. "Yes, of course they did," he intoned. "She was entirely unsuitable." Seemingly content with that answer, Fitzwilliam speared another bite of food with his fork, putting it in his mouth and chewing slowly.
"How so?" Georgiana would not let it rest. Elizabeth had not accused Fitzwilliam of aiding in the separation, but she now suspected her brother indeed had something to do with Miss Bennet's heartbreak. If it was true, Elizabeth would not want the man who had ruined the happiness of a beloved sister.
"Their mother is from trade and as gauche and uncouth as any fishmonger's wife. The three youngest sisters have little sense and expose their family to ridicule at every turn. It would be a degradation for Bingley to marry into such a situation."
It all sounded very rehearsed. She recalled the letter she found—it was a recital! Fitzwilliam had likely cited these same reasons to himself many times. So, you love one sister, and Bingley the other. Perhaps you removed your friend from temptation to protect yourself? It was an interesting thought, and one worth considering.
"Mr. Bingley is from trade," she reminded him. "And Miss Bingley behaves like the worst sort of fortune hunter. How is that any different?" She kept her tone curious, struggling to hide the accusations that threatened to burst forth.
"It is hardly the same! The Bingley sisters behave properly amongst society—"
"Do they?" she cut in. "Have you heard Aunt Matlock complain about their pretensions?"
Fitzwilliam gaped. "Besides," she continued, "if you compare them by rank, the Bennets are higher placed in society than the Bingleys. They own an estate, and the Bennets have likely been gentry for many generations."
"Yes, Mr. Bennet is a gentleman," Fitzwilliam said slowly. "But who is Mrs. Bennet? Who are her relations?"
Georgiana looked up slowly. "Careful, Brother," she said evenly, "for you begin to sound very much like Lady Catherine." She watched smugly as the color drained from Fitzwilliam's face. He hated being compared to their aunt.
"I do not," he muttered.
She put her fork down. “I realize things like rank and fortune require some attention,” she said softly. "What if I met a man with middling rank and a modest fortune? What if we loved each other truly—genuine, unfeigned love—would you deny me?"
"I see your point," Fitzwilliam said, his brow furrowing. "The Misses Bennet have no fortune and no rank, so it is very different. Their estate is entailed away—"
"But would not marrying Miss Bennet elevate Mr. Bingley?" she cried. "I know most would say she would be marrying down, and according to your explanations last summer, that is the truth of the matter! I do not understand why Mr. Bingley should not marry the lady if he loves her."
"He does love her." Fitzwilliam raised his voice slightly, a testament to his growing unease. "It is her feelings which are in doubt."
Finally, the crux of the matter. "Has he asked the lady if she cares for him?" she asked. “A proper lady is not supposed to show what she feels until a gentleman declares himself.”
Frowning, he shook his head. "Bingley was persuaded to quit the area," he said. "I saw no evidence of Miss Bennet's affections. Indeed, it seemed as though her mother would press her to accept the first wealthy man who offered. Bingley saw the logic and accepted the facts as I presented them."
Georgiana knew differently, but she could say nothing. If Elizabeth's mother was of that ilk, then she would now be married to her father's heir. Yet, she was in London and unwed. "The facts as you presented them?" she repeated. "Oh, Fitzwilliam, did you interfere?"
"Marriage is not a game, Georgiana," he scolded. "I would not see my friend tied to someone who married him only for his fortune! He would be miserable."
" You would be miserable in a similar relationship," she quipped. "Be that as it may, I do not understand why you are the authority on Miss Bennet's feelings. It is not for you to determine the nature of her sentiments—that is Mr. Bingley's responsibility. What if you were in error?"
"I was not," he said, but she could hear the doubt in his voice. "She smiles at everyone…there was no sign!" He looked slightly concerned, his brow furrowed as he regarded his plate seriously.
"And if you were? What are the consequences for Miss Bennet? A lady's reputation is a fragile thing, something easily ruined. It is a lesson I was forced to learn last summer." That is enough prodding, she thought. Carefully, she put her fork down and stood, excusing herself.
"When did you grow so wise?" her brother murmured as she drifted past. Making no reply, Georgiana hurried to the salver, hoping to find a letter waiting on the salver.