Chapter 10 Ensconced #2
The colonel sighed and turned towards her, his voice lowered a trifle more than his brother’s had been.
“Lady Catherine and Lady Anne, Darcy’s mother, were scarcely a year apart in age and were thus permitted to come out together.
Lady Catherine, the elder, had had her eye on George Darcy for years.
Alas, the very first ball, George asked Lady Anne to dance first, they grew quite besotted of one another, and the Season ended with Lady Anne engaged to the man Lady Catherine had always believed would be her husband. ”
“Oh dear,” Elizabeth said. Well did she understand such rivalries among sisters! She could only imagine what might have happened if Lydia had stolen Kitty’s intended beau! “Did the sisters fall out over it?”
“Strangely, no,” said Fitzwilliam. “Instead, my aunt decided it would be her daughter who lived out her dream to be Mistress of Pemberley, only the new Master of Pemberley decided he would not have it. I was not in the least surprised. Darcy wishes to marry for love. I have long known it.”
It made a great deal of sense to Elizabeth. Taking a chance to be made unhappy by marriage, and ruin an already blessed life, would be foolish indeed.
“Of course, falling in love has its drawbacks as well. Just look at Bingley,” the colonel remarked.
“Bingley is an idiot,” said Lord Saye immediately.
Elizabeth was instantly on alert but strove to be nonchalant. “Who is Bingley?”
“Friend of Darcy’s,” Lord Saye replied dismissively.
“Nothing wrong with Bingley except that there is too much powder in his musket,” Colonel Fitzwilliam opined. “His father was in trade but left him very wealthy, and naturally any place he goes, the ladies are sure to follow. Alas, he is equally disposed to fall in love with them as well.”
“Darcy is often forced to intervene, and it was no different in the country,” Lord Saye added.
“One family, four or five ladies, had lately lost their fortune, and the mother was merciless in her attempts to ensnare him for one of her daughters. Bingley obligingly fell in love with the golden-haired one, as is his custom, but Darcy was quick to point out the certain evils of his choice.”
Of course none of this was news to her; she had had it from Jane herself. But hearing it told from Mr Darcy’s perspective and knowing he had boasted of it to his cousins was mortifying. She hoped she was not blushing.
Elizabeth excused herself to move to the sideboard, citing a need for more tea and offering to bring more for the men, who both declined.
Her hands trembled a little as she poured herself tea, struggling to control both her humiliation and her indignation.
It seemed that Mr Darcy thought himself too high and mighty to be troubled by the sensibilities of those around him.
She longed to tell the two men that never mind the machinations of their mother, neither she nor Jane would ever consent to a marriage that had no affection. Never! No matter how wealthy the man!
Or so she believed. It was difficult to know what lows desperation might take them to.
The Bennet ladies were reduced to absolutely nothing at all to induce a man into matrimony, save for their faces and figures.
Was desperation a ‘certain evil’? Perhaps it was, at least to these men of means who expected a vast deal more, apparently.
Darcy had already eaten his breakfast and was lingering with a book over coffee when Georgiana called. She was shown into the breakfast parlour, refusing the offer of coffee in favour of drinking chocolate.
“How are you?” he enquired. “All is well at Matlock House? You look a trifle tired. Are you getting enough rest?”
She laughed. “Pray do not fret so. Yes, all is well, and I am eating and sleeping just as I should, mostly. My aunt held a little family dinner last night, and we all retired late.”
Family dinner. Her words brought a bitter taste to his mouth. He took a deep draught of his coffee to chase it away. “Was Anne’s new friend present?”
Georgiana finished another sip before settling her cup back into its saucer. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is delightful, in fact. I daresay Fitzwilliam is already half in love with her, and Saye paid her a great deal of attention as well. They were laughing like old friends.”
When an appropriate time had elapsed, he began again, speaking in a nonchalant way. “What did you think of her?”
“She is very pretty,” Georgiana said. “Dark hair and eyes, a slender figure but—”
“Dark hair and eyes?” Darcy exclaimed. “That surprises me.”
Georgiana tilted her head to look at him. “Are you already acquainted with the Bennets?”
“A little. From when I went to Hertfordshire with Bingley last autumn. But they were all fair, so perhaps they are different Bennets.”
“Maybe so,” Georgiana said. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet has dark curls, and they were arranged such that three curls dangled down on her neck. I thought I might see if my maid could do that to my hair as well.”
Three curls on the neck. Darcy tried not to betray the commingled alarm and thrill running through him.
Could Miss L and Miss Elizabeth Bennet be the same person?
Miss L had had three such curls, and she had dark hair and eyes.
But neither Bennet nor Elizabeth began with the letter L.
Was it possible the Miss L signified nothing?
He knew not whether to hope or fear Miss L being the particular friend of Anne.
Probably fear, he thought wryly. Any intimate of my aunt and cousin must think me the worst sort of blackguard.
“I overheard Lady Catherine and my uncle speaking about a breach of promise suit,” Georgiana said worriedly. “What do you—”
“There is nothing to it, obviously, save for the threat of embarrassment, and they would have the equal share of that.”
Georgiana sighed. “I hate that we are all at odds.”
“You may lay the greatest share of the blame on their heads for that.”
“B-but perhaps if you would only—”
“If I would do what?” he asked sharply. Georgiana immediately shrank back, and he regretted his temper at once. More gently, he said, “Sweetling, the price of remaining in their good graces is too dear for me.”
“Perhaps Anne will have a successful Season,” Georgiana said, sounding as if she tried for optimism. “Surely if she makes a good marriage, they can hold nothing against you.”
“No one is more hopeful of that than I.”
“They mean to begin at once,” Georgiana said. “Lady Whitmore’s ball on Thursday.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Happy hunting to them.”