Chapter 24 #2
By the time he returned to Netherfield, he had not yet worked out the answer.
Georgiana was there to meet him in the foyer.
“I saw you walking up the drive and was going to ask if you wanted to go for a walk. But then Mr Bingley said you had gone out hours ago. You must have walked clear to Pemberley and back,” she teased him.
“It felt like it,” he said, wondering how much to tell her. He had not yet sorted out his hopes and fears concerning Elizabeth. Once again, he was reminded of the odd way she had asked after Miss Bingley. “I encountered Miss Elizabeth on her way into town. She asked the strangest question.”
“Oh, what is that?” Georgiana asked. “I have never known her to ask odd questions.”
“I do not mean to say she was behaving erratically, or anything close to it. It was only rather surprising,” he said.
“She asked if Miss Bingley would be joining us, and when I told her we would not have the pleasure, she seemed wholly relieved. Stranger still, she sought to conceal the reaction, in a way that I believe went beyond mere politeness. It was as though…well, perhaps I am being rather foolish. But it was as though she was almost afraid of Miss Bingley.”
“Well, perhaps it is not surprising that she would be relieved,” Georgiana said judiciously.
“It is no secret that Miss Bingley has been most rude in her dealings with our Miss Elizabeth.” She stopped for a moment, thinking.
A small frown creased her forehead. “You say you encountered Miss Elizabeth on a walk among the country lanes?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied slowly. His sister was acting strangely. “The pasturelands and flocks are very pleasant prospects. And she has always been fond of walking.”
Georgiana nodded, looking stricken. “Excuse me,” she said and started toward the grand staircase.
“Where are you going?” he asked, wondering if she was having another of her headaches.
“To my room. I shall be down for tea,” she said, holding up a hand in farewell, but without turning from her course. Darcy looked after her, wondering. Georgiana was being quite as inscrutable as Elizabeth.
But it was not yet time to press her. The years of acting as his sister’s guardian had taught him that beyond a shadow of a doubt. With a last shrug, Darcy went in search of Bingley, who was always pleasant and unperplexing company.
∞∞∞
Georgiana hurried to her guest room and locked the door. It would not do for her to be disturbed during her search. She went to the bedside table, where she had placed her copy of Mrs Laurence’s last novel, purchased in the second printing.
Elizabeth had been so gracious to lend it to her.
At the time, Georgiana had thought it little short of miraculous that she should have obtained three copies, and little short of saintly that she would lend one to a stranger.
Sometimes even miracles have explanations.
Georgiana strongly expected that she had just found such a case.
Upon opening the novel, Georgiana flipped to a passage she had read repeatedly, always touched by its beauty.
Mrs Laurence described the countryside around her heroine’s home, making it sound so wonderfully gentle and welcoming.
Georgiana had thought it a wonderful invention, but in the past few days, something had been tugging at her memory. She had it now.
The countryside Mrs Laurence described was exactly like the view outside her window now, the gently rolling hills and fields of Hertfordshire.
Georgiana placed the book on her lap and stared out, though she saw nothing.
She was only frozen, trying to make her thoughts work as quickly as she needed them to.
Miss Bennet had certainly shown an impressive understanding of Mrs Laurence’s intentions and themes in the books.
And then there were her perpetually stained fingers, which bespoke the countless hours spent writing.
Miss Bennet had passed it off as her ample correspondence, but what if all that time she had been writing under the pseudonym of Mrs Laurence?
It would make sense why no one had ever been able to find the woman, though many had tried.
Georgiana closed the novel with a thud and set it back on the nightstand.
It would also make sense why Elizabeth had left so suddenly and why she might dread being made to see Miss Bingley again.
Had Miss Bingley discovered her secret and threatened to expose her as the author of shocking Gothic novels?
In most circles, the news would have been scandalous.
To Georgiana, it was certainly exciting, but it would in no way diminish her estimation of her friend.
Indeed, it made her prouder than ever to know Elizabeth, if her theories were indeed correct.
Poor Elizabeth! If Miss Bingley had used her secret as blackmail, she could certainly understand why she had fled Pemberley. Not everyone would be as understanding as Georgiana was.
At that thought, she stifled a gasp. What would Fitzwilliam think if he knew?
He was deeply in love with Elizabeth already, despite her lack of fortune and connections — and what a difficult pill that had been to swallow, for a man raised as he had been to believe he must put his duty to the estate and the family name above everything.
Could Fitzwilliam possibly forgive her this?
And if he didn’t, would he ever forgive himself?
In the end, there was surely only one path before her. Georgiana bit her lower lip. With a firm nod, she walked out of her room. She knew what she must do.