Chapter 13 Dinner on Grosvenor Square #2
He rose and offered his arm. Elizabeth followed, amusement shining from her eyes. They seated themselves and watched as Georgiana played the piece she had chosen. It was performed with such skill that even the gentlemen stopped chatting to listen.
When she finished, Darcy spoke.
“Georgie, will you play the piece you have learned for Richard?”
She beamed, searched through the music, and selected the score.
“This is an English ballad, The Soldier’s Tear.” She glanced toward Elizabeth. “Perhaps we might practice it together sometime, and you may sing while I play.”
“I know it well. It is a favorite in Meryton,” Elizabeth replied, then provided further explanation. “Several of our young men are fighting in the Peninsular Wars.”
Georgiana asked, “Will you sing it while I play?”
Elizabeth rose at once. Miss Bingley also stood, her intention plain, for she meant to take Elizabeth’s place beside Mr. Darcy. He perceived it, and his mouth curved with amusement as he bent toward Elizabeth.
“I am coming with you, or next I shall have Caroline pressed against me upon our couch.”
Elizabeth grinned and allowed him to escort her to the pianoforte.
He placed her where she would face the company, then seated himself upon the bench beside Georgiana.
Caroline, unwilling to relinquish her designs, installed herself upon the little couch he had just vacated, resolved to wait for his return.
Georgiana began to play, and Elizabeth’s voice rose upon the first line, rich and full, haunting in its beauty. It was a true soprano, light and pure, untouched by artifice. She sang as though the words had found their way into her own heart and could not be kept silent.
The melody, plaintive in its simplicity, carried through the room with ease. When the final note faded, it lingered in the silence that followed, as no one wished to break the spell.
Darcy felt his own throat tighten, the words and melody striking with uncommon force, and more so because, over the years, he had prayed often for Richard’s safety upon the battlefield; prayed for the cousin who was nearer to him than a brother.
When the moment passed, Darcy and his guests applauded the two performers, and then the butler entered to announce that dinner was served.
Mr. Darcy offered Georgiana his arm, then turned and held out his other to Elizabeth. She stepped nearer and accepted it.
Mr. Hurst called for Caroline, and she had no choice but to allow him to escort her into the dining room. Bingley followed with Jane beside him.
Mr. Darcy took his place at the head of the table, then turned to Mr. Hurst.
“Edwin, why do you not take the seat at the foot, so that your wife and sister may flank you on either side. We are one short, but we are among friends and family, so it is of no consequence.”
Caroline Bingley was incensed. She was the one left as the odd person out, with an empty chair to her left and her reticent brother-in-law to her right.
Once the dishes were served, Mr. Hurst devoted himself entirely to his meal, offering not a word to either lady beside him.
His bulk made conversation across him impossible, and Caroline was forced to resign herself to silence.
Throughout dinner, she occupied herself with directing sharp, furious looks toward Elizabeth, while Elizabeth remained wholly unaware that she was the center of Miss Bingley’s attentions.
Mr. Darcy kept Georgiana and Elizabeth engaged in agreeable conversation, and when the meal was concluded, he addressed her.
“Miss Elizabeth, will you lead the ladies out? We shall not linger long over our port, for we must depart soon if we are to arrive at the theater with time to spare.”
Surprised, yet pleased, Elizabeth rose, and the ladies followed her from the dining room.
When they entered the hall, she turned to Georgiana. “Will you guide us to the retiring room?”
Georgiana led both sisters there, remaining with them as she spoke with animation of the evening ahead.
When they returned to the drawing room, Miss Bingley was waiting, and she did not hesitate.
“Miss Eliza, do not imagine that Mr. Darcy has singled you out in any particular way. He merely employs you as a companion to our dear Georgiana.”
Elizabeth felt color rise in her cheeks, and Georgiana’s face reddened as well. The young girl turned troubled eyes toward Elizabeth, as though fearing Caroline spoke the truth.
Elizabeth winked, then spoke in a confidential tone.
“Surely you know Miss Bingley too well to be wounded, my dear. I have scarcely made her acquaintance, and already I have learned to expect catlike looks and remarks sharp enough to cut. She has taken a dislike to me for reasons I cannot guess, and she does not care whom she injures, so long as she believes she may strike at me.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened in comprehension. “Lizzy, she is jealous of you.”
Elizabeth’s brows drew together. “I cannot imagine why she should be. She possesses everything I lack. She is more likely vexed on account of Mr. Bingley’s regard for my sister, for we are but two country mice of no consequence.”
She slipped her arm through Georgiana’s.
“Come, play something for me, something cheerful, that we may forget the ugliness of her remark.”
Georgiana’s expression brightened. She took Elizabeth’s hand and led her toward the pianoforte.
“I know so many ballads.” She searched through the sheets and drew out several. “Do you know any of these? I will play while you sing.”
Elizabeth was pleased to see the child’s spirits restored, and was fully prepared to sing herself hoarse if it would keep Georgiana cheerful.
When the gentlemen entered half an hour later, they paused at the threshold of the drawing room, held in rapt attention as Elizabeth sang a melancholy ballad.
It had been a favorite of Darcy’s mother. An old sadness rose within his chest as Georgiana played, and Elizabeth’s voice carried a song from a time when both his parents still lived, when their household had been whole, and they had not been left as two orphaned souls in the world.