Chapter X #2
Above stairs, Mrs. Bennet showed Miss Darcy to the two guest rooms, pointing out the various amenities the rooms boasted.
Elizabeth had always thought they were handsome rooms, not large as most of the chambers in Longbourn were not, but well appointed, with comfortable beds and views of the grounds out the windows.
At Mrs. Bennet’s insistence, Miss Darcy chose the room at the front of the house overlooking the drive and Longbourn village.
Mrs. Bennet exclaimed over her choice and declared the other room would house Mrs. Annesley, Miss Darcy’s companion.
“Now you are settled,” clucked Mrs. Bennet, “I am certain you will wish to refresh yourself. I shall instruct the staff to provide a basin and some water.”
So saying, Mrs. Bennet excused herself and departed, leaving Miss Darcy with Elizabeth and her two sisters. Elizabeth addressed the girl, saying: “I hope you do not find our mother overwhelming.”
“Not at all!” exclaimed Miss Darcy. The girl colored at her outburst but managed a shy: “I have never had the benefit of a mother, for my own passed when I was little. I find I rather enjoy your mother’s attention.”
“It seems she has determined to take you under her wing, Miss Darcy,” observed Elizabeth with no little amusement.
“I believe I shall enjoy it. Shall we not dispense with such formality? I shall stay here for several days and would not wish to adhere to such conventions.”
“We should be happy to do so!” exclaimed Kitty. “I am Catherine, but my family has always called me Kitty, or as far back as I can remember.”
“Just Mary for me. There is no way to shorten my name.”
“And my family calls me Lizzy, though Elizabeth will work as well.”
The maid delivered the washbasin at that moment, and the Bennet sisters allowed Miss Darcy to attend to her washing, chattering while she was thus engaged.
It was an auspicious beginning, as Miss Darcy had turned out as estimable as she might have expected of a girl raised by Mr. Darcy.
Where that thought had originated Elizabeth could not say, for until recently she had never had any great opinion of the gentleman.
A little reflection informed Elizabeth it was true, that even when she had believed the worst of him, she had known he would never wish his sister to be anything other than a credit to his name.
Would that all Elizabeth’s sisters reflected well on her family!
Upon their return, they found Lydia and Jane still in the sitting-room, Jane appearing vexed—for Jane to appear thus she must be discomposed, indeed!—while Lydia eyed them all with what Elizabeth could only term displeasure. It did not last long, for soon Lydia spoke of her favorite subject.
“Your cousin is a colonel, is he?”
“Yes,” was Georgiana’s succinct reply, not having lost her reserve with the youngest Bennet sister.
Lydia raised an eyebrow, apparently waiting for Georgiana to elaborate. When she did not, Lydia said: “We have recently had a company of militia staying in the area.”
If she expected Georgiana to be impressed, she was disappointed, for Georgiana only nodded her acknowledgment.
“I suppose it must not be a matter of much interest to you if you have a colonel in your family. You must be in the company of officers frequently for their company to have lost its charm.”
“Not at all,” replied Georgiana.
“I believe what Georgiana means to say,” interjected Elizabeth, “is that Colonel Fitzwilliam is an officer of the regulars, not the militia. With such a position, he must be more concerned with his duties than his counterparts in the militia, who only see battle if they must defend England’s shores. ”
Georgiana shot Elizabeth a grateful look, but Lydia huffed her displeasure. “You make it sound like the officers we knew and respected are nothing at all.”
“I implied no such censure, Lydia,” replied Elizabeth. “The militia provides a necessary function. All I suggested is that the regular soldiers are more concerned with making war, which is the purpose of their profession. Militia officers are far more at leisure to socialize.”
Lydia huffed, but she did not argue the point. “Then if you have not, you have missed great fun, for the officers are excellent fellows and ever so obliging.” For a long moment, Lydia regarded Georgiana, a half frown pulling her lips down. “Your cousin was not wearing his regimentals today.”
At that moment, Mrs. Bennet entered the room, followed by her husband.
They both appeared to notice something of the tension in the room and the cause for it, for Mrs. Bennet frowned at her youngest daughter, while Mr. Bennet gave her a pointed frown.
Lydia, as was her wont, saw none of this.
Perhaps she willfully did not see—that was as likely an explanation as any, for when the girl wished, she could be far more stubborn than any of them.
“My cousin does not wear his regimentals when he is not on duty,” replied Georgiana.
“That is hardly surprising,” said Elizabeth. “I cannot imagine regimentals are at all comfortable for normal daily wear, and they are quite ostentatious besides.”
While Georgiana agreed with a smile, Lydia scowled at Elizabeth. “The officers with whom I am acquainted wear their regimentals at all times.”
“I suspect that was more due to the desire to strut before insipid young ladies,” said Mr. Bennet.
Lydia was not happy with her father’s jibe, but she knew better than to glare at him. “It is an appalling lack of respect for the uniform to dress in any other way.”
“Then your opinion differs from my cousin’s.” No one in the room missed Georgiana’s rising annoyance with Lydia’s needling.
Lydia changed her tactics. “Do you often attend assemblies and balls?”
“Not at all,” said Miss Darcy, “for I am not yet out.”
“Not out?” demanded Lydia as if caught in the depths of shock. Elizabeth was certain her sister had already known and was attempting to attack her from another angle. “You are sixteen, are you not? I thought that was what Miss Bingley told us.”
“Yes, I am sixteen. But in my circles, young girls do not come out until they are eighteen.”
A snort of utter disdain was Lydia’s response. “That is unfortunate. I should be completely ashamed if I was still confined to the schoolroom when I had much rather attend balls and parties.”
“I am beginning to regret allowing you to attend, even in the society in Meryton, when we did.”
The timbre of Mr. Bennet’s voice was a warning to Lydia, and for once, the girl appeared to take notice of it.
For that matter, Mrs. Bennet, who had ever taken Lydia’s side and refused to hear anything against her, regarded her youngest with a baleful eye.
Perhaps it was only because she had seen a hint of interest for Elizabeth in Mr. Darcy’s eyes and did not wish to drive him off by offending his sister.
Mrs. Bennet was also a consummate hostess who took pride in providing a welcome atmosphere for guests—that may be as much of a reason as any.
Unfortunately, Lydia was angry with Georgiana, though Elizabeth could not determine whence her resentment originated. Those caught in the grip of anger rarely considered their words before speaking, and Lydia was more foolish than most in that respect.
“I knew you were nothing more than a proud, spoiled little girl, for Wickham told me all about you. Then again, pride is a defect not unexpected, considering your brother.”
“Lydia!” screeched Mrs. Bennet, appalled, while the whip-like snap of Mr. Bennet’s voice called her to silence: “That is quite enough, Lydia!”
“I am a spoiled little girl?”
The question came from the one person in the room most unlikely to respond, given her quietude since she had arrived.
Given the exasperated glare with which she regarded Lydia, it was clear the girl had finally pushed her beyond all endurance.
Suddenly, Elizabeth felt a coldness wash over her at the scene that might ensue.
Too late she opened her mouth to interrupt, for Georgiana was already speaking.
“That is diverting, given the behavior I see before me.” Scorn fairly oozed from Georgiana’s quiet statement, prompting a further glower from Lydia, not that Georgiana allowed her to speak.
“You should consider nothing Mr. Wickham says as the truth, Miss Lydia, for Wickham never speaks the truth unless he must impart enough of it to make his lies more believable.”
“George is a good man!”
The use of his Christian name would have been enough to inform Elizabeth that something was amiss, yet Lydia did not even seem to realize she had done it. The way her father regarded his youngest daughter, the slip had not escaped his attention either.
“If you believe that, you are as foolish as I thought you were. As foolish as I was myself.”
Now the entire company turned their shocked attention on Georgiana, even as Elizabeth closed her eyes and swallowed thickly. Surely Georgiana did not mean to reveal her near ruin to her entire family, including a girl who would have no compunction at all about spreading it far and wide.
“Mr. Wickham, Miss Lydia, is not a good man. He games and accumulates debts, he dallies with ladies and makes love to all and sundry, but he has none of the nobility of character he portrays to the world.”
“All lies!” hissed Lydia. “You must have heard your brother speak them, for I know they are not true.”
“Yes, I have had it from my brother, and from my cousin, who are both the best of men.” Georgiana’s implacable stare seemed to unnerve Lydia, for she squirmed and could not quite meet her eyes. “And I have further proof, for my own experiences with him have informed me of his worthlessness.
“Do you know he attempted to seduce me last year?”
A shocked gasp emanated from Mrs. Bennet, but the rest watched with horror.