Chapter 5
“We can take two carriages,” Saye announced firmly the next morning.
A group had convened at Darcy’s breakfast table, each of them seeming to have some reason or another that they needed to call on Miss Elizabeth Bennet on Gracechurch Street.
When I imagined the difficulties my relations might have with Elizabeth’s relations, Darcy thought grimly, all of them wishing to call on them at once was not one of them.
“I refuse to descend on Gracechurch Street like a herd of cattle,” Darcy said firmly. “It is unseemly to go to a place like that with a multitude of carriages, as though we think ourselves royalty on an alms visit.”
“Neither can we shove six of us in one carriage,” Saye replied. “You are the one who insists on bringing Bingley, and Florizel dislikes being crammed and jammed.”
“By all means we should defer to Florizel’s needs,” Colonel Fitzwilliam interjected, helping himself to more ham.
“Not everyone needs to go,” Darcy insisted. “It is not a party. Just a simple morning call!”
“Bingley is the problem,” Saye told him. “He always lolls in a carriage—takes up an extraordinary amount of space for such a slender person.”
“Bingley has purpose there,” Darcy replied. “I am sorry but if the only purpose in going is to meet Miss Elizabeth again?—”
“So everyone is invited but me? That hardly seems fair,” Fitzwilliam said, placing his fork down with a piqued clatter. “I daresay I know her better than most anyone here, and unlike some, I have never insulted her relations.”
“Your pout is a shocking contrast to your regimentals,” his brother informed him. “Like a silver saddle on a donkey.”
Georgiana had been quietly attending to her toast throughout. “I do not wish to be left behind, but if needed, I can go to her another day?” The disappointment in her eyes clearly spoke to how much such an offer had cost her.
“No. You are most certainly one of the party. She is eager to meet you,” Darcy reassured her.
“They leave on Friday to return to Hertfordshire,” Saye informed them, causing Darcy’s heart to drop. He had not known it himself, and it placed an even greater importance on the call.
“Either we call tomorrow,” Saye continued, “or the opportunity is lost.”
“Very well, we all go, all pressed into one carriage like the mail stage from Birmingham,” Darcy said.
* * *
Mr Darcy is not best pleased to be here.
The group from Grosvenor Square, larger than either Elizabeth or her aunt had expected, arrived just before the noon hour. The call had not begun auspiciously.
Mr Bingley, it seemed, had been unable to join them, plunging Jane into an immediate and thorough melancholic silence. Lord Saye’s dog, Florizel, had entered the Gardiners’ home and immediately soiled the drawing room carpet. Little Millie, enchanted and heedless, had dropped to her knees to hug him, landing squarely on the foul little pile. Lord Saye was mortified and apologetic and wished to send for his purse, wanting to replace the entire carpet, which Mrs Gardiner assured him was not at all necessary. Miss Darcy appeared to be in agony at the whole of it. Her face had flamed red, and she could barely stutter out a greeting to any of them. Mr Darcy had gone pale with rage and then stalked to the window, putting his back to the room.
Elizabeth had been pleased by Mr and Mrs Gardiner, who showed their innate good manners, quietly summoning the housekeeper and a maid to take care of the carpet and Millie, while Mr Gardiner’s man, Huxley, took Florizel outside to be certain nothing further was forthcoming. Elspeth accompanied Huxley and her sister, and the room was restored to some semblance of serenity.
Mr Gardiner went at once to Mr Darcy and the other two gentleman, and in short time, they had all had retired to her uncle’s book room on the pretence of looking at some book or the like. Elizabeth found herself drawn to Miss Darcy, who had remained in unspeaking mortification in her chair.
“I am so delighted you came this morning,” she said. “I have long wished to meet you.”
“You have?” The girl seemed unduly startled by this assertion. “I have wished to meet you as well.”
“Then we must get to know one another.” Elizabeth angled her body such that Jane might be included in the conversation, but Jane only smiled faintly and dropped her gaze without uttering a syllable. Repressing a sigh of frustration, Elizabeth returned her attentions to Miss Darcy.
Though it began haltingly, Elizabeth found she was soon able to draw the girl out a bit by canvassing the most banal of subjects—music and books, how she liked her home in Pemberley compared to town, and what she liked best to do when she was there.
Strangely, the answer seemed to be not much at all. Miss Darcy, Elizabeth concluded, was painfully shy, and her reserve had not been helped at her school, where most of the young ladies thought her haughty and did not befriend her.
But Elizabeth found that she liked her very well. What might have been perceived as hauteur was merely reticence misunderstood, and with a jolt, she wondered how that might be applied to her brother as well. With enough time and the gentle application of her own talent of conversing, she and Miss Darcy were soon chatting like old friends.
When the gentlemen joined them again, Elizabeth found herself strangely disappointed that Mr Darcy did not sit with her. He seemed to have found a true kinship with Mr Gardiner, and the two of them sat in a corner speaking animatedly about angling while Mrs Gardiner served refreshments and tea.
Why did he come?All of the prior conclusions of her aunt and Jane—that he must somehow still love her—seemed now patently false. He had scarcely spoken to her and rarely even looked at her. She did notice that, more than once, he glanced at Jane, seeming to take the measure of her. Had he come on some sort of reconnaissance mission for his friend, trying to gauge whether Elizabeth’s assertions of Jane’s heartbreak were true?
“I understand, Miss Elizabeth, that you and your sister are to return to Hertfordshire soon?”
Elizabeth jumped a little guiltily, hoping she had not neglected her new friend too grievously. “The day after tomorrow. My father is to arrive later tonight but wishes to spend a day with his brother-in-law tomorrow. So we will depart on Friday.”
“I wish you safe travel.” Miss Darcy glanced towards the rest of her party. The gentlemen had risen. Reluctantly, Florizel had been handed into the care of his master. Elspeth and Millie had been with him in the kitchens, playing, petting, and no doubt feeding him treat after treat. The poor animal was nearly falling asleep where he stood.
As they bid their guests farewell, Mr Darcy bowed to Elizabeth with no particular warmth in his demeanour. When she heard the sound of the front door closing behind them, she went to the window to see them leave, something like regret causing an ache in her heart.
* * *
Of them all, Darcy was the only one in low spirits as the carriage began its journey back to Mayfair. Never before had he felt more foolish, more humiliated for his own pretensions. Even if he and Elizabeth had spoken lightly of it in the park, he burned with the shame of it now. As God was his witness, he would have gladly been related to the Gardiners rather than Lady Catherine and the circus which accompanied him even now. He sent his most baleful glare towards Florizel who was snoring happily on the bench across from him.
“Well, that Gardiner was a fine fellow, did you not think?” Fitzwilliam grinned happily around the carriage. “Very gentleman-like. I did not expect him to be so young.”
“He will be thirty-five on his next birthday,” Saye informed them all. “Mrs Gardiner is younger than you are, Richard.”
“And quite pretty,” Fitzwilliam concluded. “She is from Lambton, Darcy. Did you know that? I should not be surprised if you had seen her at church or something while she was young.”
“I might buy a place down there,” Saye announced.
“Down where?” Darcy asked.
“Gracechurch Street. The very place we just left! I could do as Gardiner did, get three houses for a song and knock the walls down in between.”
“Why would you buy a place there? Charming, but hardly fashionable,” Fitzwilliam said.
“Because people who follow fashion are sheep, and I am the shepherd.” Saye grinned. “And I would like to see if they will follow me to Gracechurch Street. Sir Frederick would be there within the week. I would wager all I have on it. Besides, what about my sons?”
“What about your wife?” His brother retorted. “Need one of those before you are worrying about any sons.”
“I am going to have a number of sons,” Saye replied with blithe confidence. “Three, probably four, and they will need places to live. I need to buy in before these hordes of noblemen come in and drive the prices up.”
“What makes you think you will have so many sons?” Fitzwilliam asked.
“’Tis all a ratio,” Saye informed him. He gestured towards the fall of his breeches in a manner he no doubt thought was discreet. “You compare the measurement of prince to pudding, and that is how one knows how many sons one will father.”
“Pray recollect there is a young lady with us,” Darcy interrupted tiredly.
“She is fourteen now and—” Saye began.
“Fourteen!” Georgiana interrupted indignantly. “I should say not. I am sixteen.”
“Sixteen!” Saye gave her a mockingly incredulous look. “Impossible. In fact, I thought you to were thirteen but said fourteen to flatter you.”
Darcy hoped such teasing would not upset his sister, but Georgiana surprised him. With a sweet smile, she said, “No doubt it is a sign of your advancing age that your vision fails you so.”
“The impertinence! No supper for you, miss,” Saye roared good-naturedly.
It was a delight to them all. Teasing was never something Georgiana managed easily. Most of it directed at her left her in tears. To see her not only bearing it but returning her own was nothing short of marvellous.
No doubt a teasing elder sister would be of great use in that quarter.That thought returned Darcy immediately to his despondency.
“Did you enjoy yourself, Georgiana?” he asked quietly.
“I did, very much.” Her eyes shone as she turned to him. “I think she liked me.”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
She nodded eagerly.
“Why, of course she did. I could see it plain. But did you like her?”
“Oh very much so. I hope…” Georgiana peered more closely at him. “I hope I might meet her again. She means to travel to the Lakes with her aunt and uncle later in the summer, and I thought perhaps they could be persuaded to stop at Pemberley and see us.”
“I think we can depend upon it,” Darcy assured her. Mr Gardiner said they meant to go in July. Darcy had not thought twice before extending an invitation to him to fish in his trout stream, and Mr Gardiner had accepted with delight.
Alas, that pleasure was to be had two long months hence, months during which any number of suitors might introduce themselves to his Elizabeth and steal her away, as had happened in Bingley’s case.
He frowned, recollecting his conversation the day prior with Bingley. He had gone to his friend’s rooms fully prepared to confess his wrongdoing where Miss Bennet was concerned. Bingley had met him with a beaming smile and tales of a new lady-love that he had met while visiting his family in Scarborough. Miss Edwina Thorne was a wealthy young woman whose father had lately been knighted. She was age eighteen and “an absolute angel, Darcy. A lady beyond compare.”
It seemed that Bingley had decided he must put his attraction for Miss Jane Bennet behind him and had gone north hoping to meet another. And so he had, Darcy thought grimly.
Darcy had gone ahead with his confession to Bingley as planned. He had included with it the report that he had met the Miss Bennets lately in London, and it appeared that Miss Jane Bennet was low in spirits. With great diffidence he had said, “I do not mean to interfere again, but it does seem the lady may be yet affected by her feelings where you are concerned.”
Bingley had considered this for a time before concluding, “Be that as it may, Darcy, I have given this matter a great deal of thought. Even if you were mistaken, would not others think the same?”
Darcy had tried to protest. “We were all mistaken?—”
“But if you, who were there—you, who attended the parties, saw us together for above two months—if you could not see the attachment, then would anyone? I should despise being out and about in London with everyone thinking my wife did not truly love me or only loved my wealth.”
And so that was that. Bingley had neither immediate plans nor the inclination to return to Hertfordshire, and thus, neither did Darcy.
Pemberley is the only hope, he mused, his eyes resting on his sister. Georgiana must prevail upon Elizabeth to come to Pemberley with her aunt and uncle.