Chapter 16
Darcy had enjoyed the excursion to the park Bramwell had arranged.
Admittedly, there had been a moment at the start that had not been altogether gratifying.
It had involved Georgiana—again. After seeing how cool she had been to Elizabeth when they had called on her and Mrs Ryde, he had spoken to her, asking if there was some reason for her behaviour.
“I cannot say,” Georgiana had admitted. “I am finding it very difficult to speak to people I have never met before. You and Bramwell know her from Dublin, and I have told myself you would not permit her near me if you doubted her, but…”
“Is this about what happened with Wickham in August?” When she had nodded, he had continued.
“It is right to be cautious if you are unsure of the motives of new acquaintances. But, as you said, she is not unknown to our cousin or me, let alone to Lord Halsley and Mrs Ryde. And there is a difference between taking time to know someone before you trust them with your affections or secrets and being rude.”
He had thought their conversation—and the one he had subsequently with Mrs Annesley—had done the trick, but after watching how differently his sister had greeted the ladies in the park, he knew Georgiana still did not entirely understand how she should act towards new acquaintances.
It would take practice, he supposed; that was what her companion had argued.
When the party had taken refreshments afterwards, Georgiana remained largely silent apart from having a quiet conversation with Fitzwilliam.
With luck, it meant no one noticed she gave every appearance of disapproving of, even disliking Elizabeth—especially Elizabeth herself.
Still, Darcy told himself he should make some excuse to her when an opportunity arose.
The next time he would see her was at a small dinner party the earl and countess were holding, he soon discovered.
Bramwell had convinced his parents to arrange it specifically to invite Frederick, Julia, and Rebecca, informing Darcy, “I told them it would give them a chance to know Rebecca further. They already esteem your aunt and uncle, as you know, and I am convinced they will discover that she is as admirable as any young lady they have ever met.”
They were seated in his book-room when his cousin explained it to him. It was the morning after their visit to the park, and they were drinking coffee. Bramwell had called to deliver the invitation to the dinner party, no doubt meaning to insist Darcy attend.
“What did they say in response?” he asked.
Bramwell shrugged. “My father said something about me being infatuated with her, but I assured them my feelings are stronger than that.”
Darcy stared at him until his cousin stopped avoiding his eye; he then said, “Are they?”
Rolling his eyes, he said. “Yes! Good lord, Darcy, you know me just about better than anyone else. I depend on you to convince them that I am being perfectly serious when I say I am…fond of her.” He placed his dish on the side table, the sound of the cup rattling loudly in the momentary silence before Bramwell slapped his hands against his thighs and stood.
“Must be off. As I said, my mother is inviting Lord Halsley, Mrs Ryde, and Miss Bennet as well. Unfortunately, Miss Strachan cannot be included. Well, Father insists she cannot be, because inviting her means inviting her father, and he refuses to have that vile man in the house. Do you suppose that often happens to her? I mean, she is a perfectly charming, unobjectionable young lady, and I hate to think of her being slighted because of him.”
“From what Rebecca has told me, some people do avoid her, although whether that is because of who her mother was, or because of how much most people dislike Mr Strachan, one cannot say.”
Bramwell’s sigh was enough to communicate his regret for the lady. “With luck, she will soon find a worthy husband to separate her from her father. Must be off,” he repeated. “Remember, I am quite depending on you to be at the party. Georgiana too, of course.”
In the end, and by her own preference, Georgiana did not attend dinner with him.
While he believed it would do her good to be amongst people and practise taking part in social gatherings, he was not entirely sorry she would remain at home that evening.
It was because of Elizabeth. If Georgiana were there, she might be more amiable towards Elizabeth, which would be a relief, but she might also have remained distant.
He wanted Elizabeth to enjoy herself, and he expected the gathering would be uncomfortable enough as it was, given Bramwell’s wish to bring together Rebecca and his parents, who were still disappointed at his rejection of their plans for him.
That was the excuse Georgiana had given for wanting to avoid the party, along with the presence of people not in their family, meaning Elizabeth, Mrs Ryde, and Lord Halsley.
“I would feel so awkward,” Georgiana had claimed. “It is difficult enough to be with people I do not know very well, but under such circumstances, I doubt I would even be able to eat, let alone speak.”
The evening marked the first time the earl and countess would meet Elizabeth, and whenever he considered it, sparks of anxiety ignited inside of him.
Surely they would like her. How could they not?
If only her situation in life was better!
Then they might not only like her, they might approve of her as a potential wife.
Am I thinking of her in those terms? he wondered, just as he had more times than he could recall in recent days.
The truth was, he was drawn to her, had been almost since they had first met, even when he believed she was a paid companion.
While not entirely certain what to make of Bramwell’s sudden and determined interest in Rebecca, Darcy understood the impulse behind it.
His cousin had met a lady who took hold of his heart; increasingly, Darcy found it difficult not to admit that Elizabeth had done the same to him.
What should he do about it? While he remained uncertain, he would put his effort into ensuring she knew he regretted how he had acted in Ireland.
There had been moments lately when he believed she no longer disliked him—such as when they had walked together in the park—and he wanted to show her that he was a better man than she had believed him to be.
She had been right to think poorly of him, but thanks to her, he was endeavouring to improve himself.
How shaken he had been when he had realised he had been so mistaken about her!
There was another reason he wanted Elizabeth to be easy in his presence. Should Bramwell and Rebecca marry, Elizabeth and he were likely to continue seeing each other, and he would like such occasions to be pleasant for her—or not unpleasant, at least.
He arrived at Grosvenor Square before any of the other guests. Bramwell was distracted and kept adjusting his cuffs and cravat while Fitzwilliam quietly laughed at him.
“I shall be glad when this evening is over,” the earl grumbled. “Then perhaps my sons will resume behaving in a more acceptable fashion. Bramwell, you have completely disordered your cravat. Go have your man fix it. And Fitzwilliam, stop teasing your brother. Are you adolescents or grown men?”
It was not the most promising beginning. Darcy attempted to give Bramwell a supportive look, but he was not sure he had seen it in his haste to do as his father had recommended.
“Darcy,” the countess said, “tell us more about Mrs Ryde’s young friend. I understand she is the same girl whom you and my son met in Dublin, but I admit, I do not recall what you have said of her.”
“You will like her,” Fitzwilliam said before Darcy could respond. “I have seen her several times of late, and she is charming and amusing, and she is quite intelligent.”
For some reason, his cousin’s praise made heat rise up the back of his neck.
“She is everything a young lady should be, but her manners might not strictly be those of fashionable society,” he admitted, not wanting to criticise Elizabeth but rather to prepare his uncle and aunt.
He explained what he knew of her father and his estate and her association with Mrs Ryde.
“It was evident from the day we first met that both Mrs Ryde and Lord Halsley care for her, and I understand my aunt and uncle Darcy both like her a great deal too. As does Rebecca.”
By the time he finished his explanation, Bramwell had returned, his attire again as it should be.
Fortunately, that was when the guests arrived, saving his cousin from further fidgeting and Darcy from further questioning.
He worried that the longer he spoke of Elizabeth, the more his burgeoning feelings would be evident.
Introductions and greetings were made, and Elizabeth sat next to Rebecca on a settee near the countess.
Darcy had seen his cousin reach for her, he supposed seeking her support.
He positioned himself so that he could watch the three ladies; taking in the others, he found that Lord Romsley, Lord Halsley, and Frederick were speaking together, as were a separate group of Mrs Ryde, Julia, and Bramwell.
Rebecca repeatedly glanced at Bramwell, who—to no surprise—kept looking at her.
It was Darcy’s first hint that perhaps she was not entirely opposed to the viscount’s attentions, yet something in her manner suggested she was wary.
“Well, you are both lovely young ladies, are you not?” Lady Romsley said. “I had been told as much, but one never knows when people are exaggerating. Of course, I do recall meeting you when you were just a girl, Miss Darcy.”
“As I remember being introduced to you, your ladyship, although I believe it has been nearly ten years.”
“Just so. Tell me, what do you like to do? Has your time in town been pleasurable?”