Chapter 31
Thirty-One
AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE
Georgiana was acting a little strangely. All through dinner, she continuously smiled at him, eyes shining, as if she was bursting with news. Or, as if she carried an exciting secret she could not wait to share.
Darcy and Bingley had been out settling a property dispute between two tenants and while settled satisfactorily, it had taken the whole of the day. Therefore, he had been unable to share any time alone with his sister, nor to make the usual enquiries regarding Edward and Elizabeth.
Those questions and her answers were a meagre consolation, but all he had; hearing them was all that helped him to keep his countenance, to keep his feelings under good regulation.
His sister had become somewhat more talkative when it came to her friend Elizabeth, and Darcy exploited this weakness mercilessly to eke out information.
We will be leaving soon, he justified. Directly after Christmas. Or perhaps…perhaps later in January.
After dinner, he watched his sister closely, searching for an opportunity to speak privately.
Miss Bingley, however, was a constant source of annoyance.
If she was not badgering him with compliments and questions, she was making Georgiana uncomfortable with repeated requests that she demonstrate her extraordinary talent with the pianoforte.
For the first time, it occurred to him that by pushing a match with Bingley, he was condemning her to a sisterhood with the Bingley siblings.
For some, it would not have mattered so much, but for Georgiana, he could see what a trial it was for her to endure the endless recitals of praise.
Worse, Miss Bingley was obviously campaigning to be a much closer comrade, inundating her on every subject from the latest fashions to her personal nervous complaints.
His sister did not take much interest in either clothing or illnesses, and upon any topic to which she was unsure how to respond, she was in obvious agonies of apprehension.
Surely she will become accustomed to them, he reassured himself. She did need to learn more conversational adeptness. It was probably best for her to learn it here, in an uncritical environment.
All the same, the relentless attention meant there was no opportunity to take her aside.
She gave him a long look before she excused herself from the company and, with Mrs Annesley in tow, went off to bed.
He was almost envious of the youth that gave her the excuse to retire early and avoid the game of loo Hurst insisted upon.
It was after midnight before he managed to break free.
To his surprise, Georgiana was asleep on the settee in the sitting room attached to his chambers. Exhausted and thinking of nothing except his wish for privacy to think his own dreary thoughts, he might not have even noticed her in there, had not his valet, Havers, quietly pointed it out.
He gently shook her shoulder. “Georgiana,” he said softly.
“Mm,” she mumbled.
He shook a little harder and she opened her eyes, blinking owlishly in the candlelight.
“There you are,” she said, sitting up and yawning. “I thought you would never come.”
“You could have sent a note with a servant, and I would have come immediately.”
“I did not want to make a fuss. Or do anything that might lead to more questions from Miss Bingley. She is the nosiest woman I know. Not that I know all that many. Mrs Hurst is not so bad, except that she is so full of nerves.”
“I presume you had a reason for wishing to speak with me?” he asked, trying to subdue his impatience.
“Oh. Yes. It is very confidential, however. I must have your word that this is between you and me.” She yawned again. “Well, and possibly one other person. But that remains to be seen.”
He grit his teeth and, counselling himself to patience, sat down beside her. “Very well. What is it?”
“It is about arranging a future marriage.”
Immediately, the image of herself and Bingley flashed into his mind.
Had his friend spoken to her about it already?
And she was willing? Surely not now, however, despite her willingness to elope with Wickham.
He was so surprised, his voice took a few seconds to catch up to his mind. In the meanwhile, she kept speaking.
“There must be conditions, however. I think you are the very person to insist upon them.”
Yes, there will be conditions! Such as, the marriage will not take place for at least another two years!
“You have enough influence to ensure he holds to those conditions. It would be desirable, I think, to get it all in writing, in case you need to remind him later.”
“Any settlement would of course be in writing,” he assured in a choked tone, nearly speechless at this entire conversation. When had they spoken? He could swear Bingley had been avoiding her! What had been said?
“Good. Not that I do not trust Mr Morris—I only think it well to be certain he understands his duty.”
“What in the world?” His tone emerged in a near shout. There were two Mr Morrises in the area of whom he was aware, and the one who was not married was in no way suitable for his young sister.
She frowned at him. “Fitzwilliam?”
He forced his voice to calm. “Excuse me. I thought I heard you say you wish to marry Mr Morris? I must have misheard.”
“You most certainly did, silly. Not me. Elizabeth, of course.”
Elizabeth? Elizabeth! Somehow, this was even more horrifying; it was a good thing he was already sitting, or he might have fallen over.
“Why in heaven’s name does Elizabeth think she ought to wed a steward? And what do I have to do with it if she does?” He nearly hissed the words.
Georgiana looked taken aback at his vehemence. “You need not act so affronted. I think finding her a respectable husband is an excellent idea. It cannot have escaped your notice that she is trying to raise that little boy all by herself, and that she requires help.”
He could not seem to quell the fury coursing through him. “I thought that help was what you were providing, in all those hours you spend with her.”
“Fitzwilliam! I spend a couple of hours a day at Fox Hollow. What do you think she does with the other twenty-two?”
Sarcasm, from Georgiana of all people! It was the outside of enough. “So, your idea is to find a husband for her? With the land agent? What are you doing with your time—creating fairy tale dreams of happily-ever-afters, slotting likely—or unlikely—victims into the gaps? What nonsense!”
Georgiana gawped at him. “It was not my idea, but I thought it an excellent one.”
“So it is Eliz—Miss Elizabeth’s notion?” This was somehow even more infuriating. “If this is the sort of foolishness to which she would expose you, I think it insupportable. If romance is all she wants, let her find it herself, instead of dragging us into it.”
“You will not help her?” She sounded incredulous, as if he had said something absurd, when she was the one who was spouting the inconceivable.
“She and her ridiculous ideas are intolerable. I am in no humour to lend my consequence to ladies who are so desperate for men. You had better return to bed, for you are wasting your time with me.”
His sister stood, still looking at him with what appeared to be incomprehension.
“She told me not to ask you, but I believed you would not mind. I believed you had her best interests at heart, and could easily see that not only is Neddy almost more than she can handle, but that he requires a father, a good and caring father to model his life after. Mr Morris is, according to Elizabeth, known to be such a father.” Her blue eyes filled with tears.
“She is not looking to have a ‘happily ever after’ for herself. Plainly, she has given up on all that. She is attempting to provide one for Neddy. I think she is the bravest, most wonderful creature in the world. I am sorry I ever said anything to you.” She ran from the room.