Chapter 18
If Georgiana wanted a picnic, then a picnic she would have.
All the same, Darcy was less than sanguine that it would have the effect she desired.
Her stated intent was to allow their guests to enjoy Pemberley at its finest, and that, surely, could be accomplished.
But knowing his sister as he did, Darcy was certain that her real goal was to ease the tension between their guests, particularly between Miss Bingley and Elizabeth.
That was surely too lofty a goal. Miss Bingley seemed to think Elizabeth a rival for his attentions, and as she was wrong only in thinking that she herself had any claim to them, the relationship between the two women was not likely to improve.
But Georgiana, new to being a hostess and wishing everyone to be happy together, must try.
The morning arranged for their picnic was as lovely as anyone could have wished, with the sun shining down warm and golden, the scent of flowers blowing on the soft wind, and birds singing from the trees.
As they walked out from the garden and into the wood beyond the house, the children ran ahead of the party, laughing and playing as they went.
The married ladies were the first among the others to follow them, with Mrs Annesley and Mrs Gardiner keeping up a lively conversation.
To his surprise, Mrs Hurst walked with them, even joining in their discussion of children and how one ought to raise them.
Mr Hurst ambled after them, complaining now and then about the length of the walk.
Darcy indulged himself in walking with Georgiana and Elizabeth, leaving poor Bingley to escort his sister.
That must have been an unpleasant task. The daft woman had chosen a highly impractical dress for a picnic — all silk and lace, with a great flowing skirt that would have been more appropriate to meet the queen than for a simple day affair in the country.
It was in marked contrast to the sensible attire of the other women.
All had opted for simple cotton day dresses, which would keep them cool and fresh as the sun rose higher in the sky.
When they reached the appointed picnic spot, a small meadow of wildflowers in a sheltered grove with a little pond, the children had already torn off their shoes and stockings and were wading into the gently lapping waves.
Mrs Gardiner called to them. “Girls, do watch out for your brothers! You know they cannot swim yet.”
Her daughters promised they would be watchful, and they all went back to observing the creatures that lived along the shoreline.
“What a beautiful day for a picnic!” Georgiana sighed as they came upon the older ladies.
A footman, who had gone out ahead of them, had just finished spreading out blankets on the ground for them, and a table was laid with a monumental spread of cold meats, fruits, cheeses, and sweets.
In a testament to Georgiana’s planning, Mrs Reynolds’s ingenuity, and the underservants’ hard work, steam curled invitingly from the spout of a teapot.
Darcy spared a moment’s thought for how it might have been accomplished before deciding simply to enjoy it.
He turned to his sister with a smile. “You have outdone yourself, Georgiana. I believe this is the finest event you have arranged yet.”
Georgiana smiled, modestly looking down. “Oh, I cannot take the credit. Mrs Reynolds is the real miracle worker. Not to mention Williams and Tennent, who worked so hard to carry everything here!”
“Quite right,” Darcy agreed, prouder of her than ever.
The ability to plan a party was useful to a great lady, but not half so useful as the wisdom and generosity to give credit where credit was due.
Georgiana seemed to be growing up into a young lady of sense and judgement, one whom he was proud to call his sister.
“Shall we all sit down?” Georgiana asked.
Everyone readily agreed, and the footman stood aside to bring plates filled with the delicious cold cuts and other delicacies to them.
All but Miss Bingley looked comfortable.
She sat at a strange angle, leaning to the side as though she struggled to catch her breath.
Her elaborate dress looked so stiff and uncomfortable that Darcy found himself feeling rather sorry for her.
Had she not known what the picnic would be like?
If that was the explanation, she had not listened to Georgiana at all, for she had told all the guests what to expect.
More likely, Miss Bingley had considered offering an impressive display to be more important than comfort or practicality. And she was certainly offering a display of something, but he would hesitate to call it impressive.
“Pemberley is so lovely, Mr Darcy,” Mrs Hurst said as they were all settled. “Indeed, I know of no other estate to compare with it.”
“Thank you, Mrs Hurst. You are too kind.”
“It must take up much of your time in managing it all. I dare say you need a wife to help you with the house,” she said, her voice smooth as glass. Mrs Hurst glanced at her sister, who was carefully posing with her neck arched at the most flattering angle.
Darcy did his best not to let his anger and annoyance show. “When the time is right, Mrs Hurst, there shall be a mistress of Pemberley.”
Though he told himself he must not, Darcy glanced quickly in Elizabeth’s direction. The conversation had not been lost on her, he realised. In the fleeting moment he looked at her, their eyes met and held.
They both looked away. Darcy only wished he could see her expression. Her consciousness of him seemed to match his own of her. Surely it must mean something that they were both growing so aware of each other, that they so naturally entered into each other’s concerns.
How could he be expected to hold back if she truly felt as much as he did?
Mrs Hurst cleared her throat before attempting to engage in the topic again.
“It is such a large house. You will need a woman with experience in such matters. My sister would know, would you not, Caroline? She has helped run my parents’ London houses for our brother since their passing.
And she has also helped with Netherfield, I believe. ”
“I am aware of the fact,” Darcy said briefly, wishing she would give up her futile scheming. Would that she would go back to discussing family matters and children with Mrs Gardiner and Mrs Annesley rather than trying to be a matchmaker. He glanced at Georgiana, silently begging her to intervene.
Thankfully, she understood straight away. “Shall we all go for a walk? The woods are so lovely this time of year!”
Everyone rose, though Miss Bingley struggled to do so.
Her brother and Mr Hurst had to help her straighten, as her ensemble would not allow her to bend in order to stand.
Darcy looked away, not wishing to embarrass her further.
Surely Miss Bingley would wish her folly to be given as little attention as possible.
Elizabeth, who had been among the first to spring up at Georgiana’s suggestion, was already at her side. “This was such a wonderful idea, Miss Darcy. I am glad you thought of it.”
“Are you really having a good time?” Georgiana asked.
“Yes, of course. It is difficult not to have a good time, no matter where I am at Pemberley.” Elizabeth looked over and smiled in greeting as he joined them.
“I am glad to hear you say it, Miss Bennet.” Though Darcy longed to say more, he forbore.
Anything else he might say would be too much.
He could not tell her that Pemberley had become lovelier than ever, now that she was among its beauties.
Certainly he could not tell her that he had begun to see the beauty in everything, as long as she was with him.
Perhaps that was what his mother had meant when she had told him as a boy that he would know when he fell in love, when he found the woman he was to marry. He had had difficulty with her answer for so long. “But how, Mother?” he had asked her. “How will I know?”
She had only smiled at him and given an answer that left him more puzzled than ever. “I do not know how to explain it, son. All I can say is that when you know, you just know.”
He never had a chance to inquire further.
Darcy had only been twelve, and she had passed away giving birth to Georgiana shortly afterward.
He had never asked his father what his mother might have meant.
The love between Darcy’s parents, which his mother had considered highly romantic, his father would have described as the result of duty and mutual respect.
He had fallen in love with his wife because he had married her, rather than the reverse, and it would never have occurred to him that his son might wish anything else.
In his woolgathering, Darcy had fallen a little behind the others. He was at the point of increasing his pace to return to them when he heard a cry of distress from the woods beside the path.
“Oh, Mr Darcy! Please do help me. I have hurt my ankle.”
The voice was undoubtedly Caroline Bingley’s.
Darcy looked around, thinking to call Bingley to go with him, or better yet, to go himself.
He did not much like the idea of playing knight in shining armour to Miss Bingley’s damsel in distress.
Quite aside from his own distaste, surely it would be unkind to encourage her fantasies when they had not the least chance of coming true.
But Bingley was at the very front of the group, and almost out of sight. Nor was Mr Hurst anywhere to be seen. Likely, the man had taken the first opportunity of seeing a bench along the path to sit down.
How had Miss Bingley come to leave the main path, in any case? It was hardly difficult to follow. But it did not matter. He could not leave a guest in distress, and must therefore go to her.
“Miss Bingley?” he called as he stepped into the woods. “Where are you?”
“Here I am!”