Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
That evening, Mr Darcy invited Elizabeth and Lady Acaster to dine in the family’s private rooms in the west wing.
Georgiana still felt unwell, and he intimated that sitting at a large table full of food might unsettle his sister’s stomach.
Elizabeth agreed to this plan readily; she did not wish for her friend to be ill if she could take action to prevent it, nor did she wish to be reminded of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s empty seat.
A message came for Lady Acaster and Elizabeth as they readied themselves for dinner.
It was from Mr Darcy apologising that he had been unavoidably detained with urgent business on the estate but would join them as soon as he could.
Despite Elizabeth’s protestations, her aunt had insisted that she borrow her finest string of pearls.
In some ways this dainty necklace suits me better than her sapphires, Elizabeth thought, absently touching the lustrous drops as she and Lady Acaster made their way to a part of Pemberley she had never been to before.
The other jewels made me feel as though I were pretending to be another person, one far grander than I ever dared to be.
Upon entering the room, Elizabeth instantly drew Georgiana into an embrace. “You look a little better,” she ventured, noting the dark shadows under her friend’s eyes. “Were you able to rest?”
Georgiana nodded. “Forgive me for not accompanying you today. My heart races terribly whenever I hear of someone ill or dying. I feel dreadfully selfish—indeed, I hardly know my eldest cousin, but when I learn of the suffering of another, I am overcome with a sensation of dread as though it will be my turn next.”
Elizabeth’s heart filled with compassion. “I shall not accept your apology, dearest, for you have done nothing wrong.” She squeezed Georgiana’s shoulders lightly before taking her seat. “And it was a pleasure to spend the afternoon with Mr Darcy.”
A glow returned to Georgiana’s eyes. “My brother said the same of you when I asked him of your walk. He said that you drew him, and that you are prodigiously talented.”
Surprised to learn of Mr Darcy’s unexpected praise, Elizabeth did not know how to respond.
Lady Acaster, however, was not so afflicted. “You drew Mr Darcy? May I ask how that came about?”
“I was sketching out a still life, and he was in the background.” It was not a lie, but it was not truthful enough to prevent Elizabeth’s cheeks from burning.
“I see,” said Lady Acaster thoughtfully. “With shoulders that broad, I am sure he made for a delightful model.”
Elizabeth and Georgiana both emitted identical spluttering laughs. “You are incorrigible!” Elizabeth exclaimed.
Lady Acaster shrugged. “A priest once told me that I am beyond all salvation. It was the greatest compliment I ever received.”
Elizabeth turned to Georgiana. “I must beg your forgiveness. My aunt forgets that the man she is speaking of is your brother—as well as our generous host.”
Georgiana no longer looked pale. Her eyes were bright with laughter. “I am not at all offended. I only wish that everyone were as outspoken. It would make social occasions a far more entertaining affair.”
Elizabeth snorted. “Lady Acaster needs no encouragement in that quarter.” The light streaming through the windows caught her attention.
The sitting room was far smaller than the formal dining room they had been using before, but it gave a delightful view of the fading sun dwindling to the west. “This prospect is very pretty. Do you and your brother dine here together when you do not have guests?”
Georgiana coloured. “We have not used this room for many years.”
“I have been here before,” Lady Acaster interjected. “This used to be your mother’s parlour. I spent many enjoyable evenings here with your parents and my husband, all of us in fits of laughter at whatever scrape your brother had found himself in.”
“Sometimes I forget that you came to Pemberley before me,” said Elizabeth softly.
She could picture all of them, sitting around the same table they were at now, teasing and joking with one another.
Georgiana had fallen silent, and Elizabeth reached out for her hand. “It sounds like a wonderful time.”
“It was.” Lady Acaster smiled wistfully, her voice uncharacteristically faint.
With a deep breath, she drew herself up, as though shaking away an invisible pain, and directed her attention to Georgiana.
“Mr Darcy was quite a handful as an infant. Now would be the time to ask me any questions, should you ever need a weapon in your arsenal to tease your brother with.”
Georgiana looked positively scandalised at the idea that her worthy and infallible older brother might be anything less than perfect, but Elizabeth’s curiosity got the better of her. “What was Mr Darcy like when he was a child?”
“Stubborn as a mule,” Lady Acaster observed with a twinkle.
“An attribute that I fancy has little changed.” Georgiana did not reply but, by the twitching of her lips, clearly agreed.
Warming to her theme, the older woman continued, “If the young master Fitzwilliam decreed the sky to be violet, then it was violet, and he would argue his case until you conceded—an impressive feat for a gentleman of merely four years.” Elizabeth smiled, imagining a small, serious dark-haired boy.
“His was the sweetest disposition though.” Lady Acaster’s eyes sought out a portrait, one that Elizabeth knew to be of Lady Anne.
“There was nothing he would not do for his mother. Every day he would gather her flowers and bring them to her, and she would pretend as though he had not given her half a dozen identical posies the day before.”
Discomfort flooded Elizabeth’s body when she recalled her earlier conversation with Mr Darcy.
Would her observation that there should be more flowers about the place have upset him?
Her aunt did not notice Elizabeth’s distress, for her attention had been captured by an ornament on the mantelpiece.
“She would place those arrangements in that very same vase, which used to be in her private chambers. My poor friend was so often ill—and I am sorry if this information upsets you, Miss Darcy—for there were other little angels between you and your brother that did not survive, and she would spend a month or so in bed recovering from the pain of it all.”
Georgiana’s grip tightened around Elizabeth’s.
“In most circumstances, I do not like to talk of death, but when it comes to Mama, I would rather hear about everything, even if it means learning of her heartbreak. She died when I was three, and I have no true recollection of her, only fragments from the servants or my older family members who did not know her well. My brother does not like to talk about either of our parents, and I do not like to press him because he has more memories to grieve than I. You cannot know what it means to me, learning more of my mother from you. When you talk about her, she feels like a real person, not just a painting on the wall.”
Creases appeared around Lady Acaster’s eyes, and she regarded Elizabeth and Georgiana fondly.
“Then I am glad to be of use. My disposition is to share how I think or feel at any given moment, regardless of whether it is welcome or not. I am happy to know that my outspoken tendencies bring you comfort. Sometimes, I am guilty of treating you both as I did Lady Anne, with gossip, laughter, and irreverence. As your senior, I ought to be setting you a better example.”
“But that would be infinitely more dull,” teased Elizabeth. “If we cannot talk freely amongst loved ones, then when else are we afforded the privilege?”
Georgiana’s eyes fell to where her hand rested in Elizabeth’s. “I sincerely agree,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.
“A carte blanche to express myself without reservation?” Lady Acaster raised a brow. “You are in fine spirits tonight, Elizabeth. You should draw Mr Darcy more often.”
This remark elicited another choking laugh from Elizabeth, as well as the retraction of any previous promises of benevolence towards her aunt.
Their conversation descended into light-hearted chaos and amusing anecdotes regarding Lady Anne, which, Elizabeth observed with pleasure, prompted a well-needed smile upon Georgiana’s face.
A servant signalled Mr Darcy’s arrival, and all the ladies stood to greet him.
He had come straight from outside, bringing in with him the fresh county air; that was surely the reason Elizabeth shivered a little in his presence.
Dinner was brought up and laid upon the table, and they all began to eat.
Elizabeth did not miss the way Mr Darcy watched the quantity of food that filled his sister’s plate and how much of it she ate.
“Have you heard from the colonel?” Lady Acaster asked when there was a lull in the conversation.
“Only a note to say that he has arrived safely and that Callan is much worse than he feared.” Mr Darcy’s eyes drifted to Elizabeth. “He asks me to send you all his sincere regards.”
“That is very kind of him to think of us at this sad time,” she replied gently. “You must let us know if there is anything to be done to alleviate your family’s distress.”
“You being here is more than enough,” he said quietly, as though to her alone.
Beside Elizabeth, Georgiana nodded vigorously. “I always feel so much better in your company—and Lady Acaster’s too. Indeed, Elizabeth, may I say that you always have such brightness about you.”
“You compliment me very nicely,” Elizabeth replied, touched by Georgiana’s effusive praise.
Mr Darcy laughed, his rare, faultless smile flashing quickly. In his deep voice, he added, “My sister is correct. One does not need colour or light when you are in the room. You bring your own.”
Now severely embarrassed, Elizabeth averted her eyes, her gaze resting upon another vase of freshly cut flowers on the corner by the window, a sketch book and pencil next to it.
Amongst the arrangement were stems of honeysuckle, identical to the plant she had begun to draw earlier.
This cannot be a coincidence. Mr Darcy has listened to my advice.
“I thank you sincerely,” she replied. “And how fortunate it is that when I am not in the room, you have such beautiful blooms to keep you company.”
Mr Darcy’s eyes widened with understanding. Now it was his turn to look uncomfortable. Mercifully, more food arrived, and the conversation turned to safer topics.