Chapter 17 Mr. Darcy Returns #2
He sank back on the couch and drew a deep breath. When he could speak, he turned to his sister. “Louisa, Caroline just threatened Miss Elizabeth. She said she would tell her London friends that Darcy had been entrapped.”
Louisa blanched. Mr. Hurst poured another measure of brandy and handed it to his wife, who drank it and began to cough and splutter, but her color soon improved.
When she could speak, she said, “She will drag Mr. Darcy’s name in the gutter, and she will bring all of us down with him.
” She turned to Elizabeth. “You and your four sisters will all be ruined, and it would be the end of the long friendship between Darcy and Charles.” She wrung her hands.
“We will be a pariah in society. But how can we prevent her?”
Bingley shook his head. “It cannot be done. She cannot be prevented; she is impulsive, unrestrained, and acts before she thinks, even when it is to her own detriment.”
Louisa pressed her lips together. “We would need to monitor and destroy all her correspondence, forbid her from visiting any of her friends, and basically isolate her. It is impossible. Could you threaten her with loss of allowance?”
He sighed. “It would do no good. She would spread the story first and beg forgiveness afterward.”
Louisa groaned. “Then we must inform Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth spoke softly. “Please, I will speak with him. The threat was made to me, and I would rather he hear it from my lips. Let him arrive, rest, and see to his sister’s comfort before we distress him.”
All agreed.
Bingley rubbed his forehead. “I do not think I can act naturally. He will see at once that something is wrong.”
“If he does,” Elizabeth said quietly, “I will take him aside and tell him. Or perhaps he will read it in my face and draw me aside first. Either way, he shall know as is his right, and perhaps I will need to withdraw and free him before it is too late.”
Moisture brightened her eyes, but she did not weep. Everyone in the room felt for her. Mr. Hurst muttered an oath, and Louisa shook her head. “Caroline will ever be a thorn in our side,” she said bitterly.
Bingley turned to Jane. Her face revealed both distress and quiet revulsion. She rose and went to sit beside Mary, and Elizabeth followed, taking the seat on Jane’s other side.
It was thus they sat, three silent sisters side by side, when Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam rode up to the house and dismounted.
All the occupants of the drawing room rose as one and moved toward the entrance.
Mr. Bingley stepped out first, followed by Mr. Hurst. Darcy was handing his reins to the footman when he looked up, his gaze sweeping over the gathered faces until he found Elizabeth.
His expression brightened, and a smile softened his features.
Her heart stilled, and the dread that churned in her stomach ebbed.
Perhaps he would find a way to dispel the threat Caroline held over them.
He was walking toward her now, his eyes taking in her face and figure, and she could see that he was pleased.
A rush of gratitude for Aunt Maddie’s care and thoughtfulness rose within her.
Her cheeks warmed under his scrutiny, yet her gaze did not waver.
She would strive to know this man. They would spend time together, learn one another’s minds, and, in time, she would welcome him to her heart and her bed.
Her breath caught at the thought. Perhaps not.
She must give him the chance to withdraw, to preserve his name from disgrace if that was his wish.
She saw alarm flicker across his face. Oh, her treacherous eyes; they had betrayed her fears.
As he moved nearer, she attempted another smile, but it only seemed to heighten his alarm.
Her glance shifted to the others; all were watching them, all were watching her.
Then she noticed the man beside him, clearly his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.
He was tall and comely, very like Darcy himself.
He was helping a young, fair-haired girl to descend. Darcy’s sister, she realized.
The child looked up and caught Elizabeth’s gaze.
Elizabeth smiled, and as the girl came skipping forward, she could not help but laugh.
She moved down the steps past Fitzwilliam, past the Hursts and her sisters, all of whom seemed frozen, waiting for calamity to strike.
Then the dreadful stillness was broken. The child stood before her, smiling brightly.
“Georgiana?” Elizabeth asked gently.
“Yes, and you are Miss Elizabeth?”
“I am,” Elizabeth replied, reaching out to take her hands.
The girl threw her arms around Elizabeth, and Elizabeth laughed, holding her close.
Georgiana drew back. “May I call you Elizabeth?”
“You may, or Lizzy, as my sisters do.”
“Oh, Lizzy! I have longed for a sister, and you are the very one I would have chosen if God had allowed me the choice.”
Elizabeth grinned. “Am I? But how do you know I am not an ogre, one who will scold you and send you to your schoolroom to read your catechism?”
Georgiana giggled and leaned close to whisper, “You are droll, Lizzy. No wonder Fitzwilliam has fallen in love with you. I like you already.”
Elizabeth flushed at the girl’s words. Fitzwilliam must not have told her of the compromise, that he was being forced into this marriage.
But the child was so happy and trusting that she returned her smile.
“And I like you very much, Georgiana, at least, if first impressions may be trusted. But come, let me introduce you to my sisters.”
She turned and gestured for them to approach. “Jane, Mary, may I present Miss Georgiana Darcy?” Then to the girl, “Georgiana, these are my sisters, Jane and Mary Bennet.”
All three curtsied. Georgiana’s face glowed with delight as she surveyed them. “I am very happy to know you. I cannot tell you how long I have wished to meet you all.”
Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had stepped closer and now stood just behind her.
“Sweetling,” Darcy said, “let us go in. The trunks have been carried upstairs. Perhaps you would like to rest before luncheon?”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam, please do not send me away yet.”
Elizabeth interceded. “Would you like for Mary and me to help you change out of your traveling dress?”
Georgiana’s eyes lit. “Would you?”
“Of course, if you wish it.”
“I would very much. We could talk and become better acquainted.”
“We shall,” Elizabeth said kindly. “Come, Mrs. Hurst has placed you in the bedchamber next to ours.”
The three young women turned toward the stairs, followed by the rest of the party.
Bingley remained in the hall beside Darcy. “You are very quiet, my friend,” Darcy said. “Is anything wrong?”
Bingley’s face was pinched. “Darcy, if you had a sister like mine, you would not need to ask.”
“Has it been so bad?”
“You have no idea. Still, I kept everyone alive and mostly unharmed. But it has not been easy.”
“I see no scratches upon Miss Elizabeth’s lovely face, nor her hair in tatters,” Darcy replied lightly.
Bingley laughed. “No thanks to Caroline’s temper. I doubt I shall visit Pemberley this summer; I dread what she might do to your wife.”
“That bad?”
“Yes. But come, let us go in. Luncheon is being laid now, and you must change from your riding coat. Richard, you look well. No new orders?”
“Not yet,” the colonel replied. “But something is stirring. My general says we will soon know more.”
Darcy frowned. “It pains me to think you may be sent to the Peninsula, or to France. How your mother endures the strain, I do not know.”
“Do not fear for me, cousin,” Richard said easily.
“This time I shall not bear arms. The War Office needs intelligence, not soldiers. It appears a handsome face and a title are in demand. I am to pose as a younger son in search of a dowered wife, free to mingle with the nobility while gathering information. Since that happens to describe my present situation, I am well qualified.”
Darcy’s brow remained furrowed. “It is dangerous work. If they discover your purpose, you could be tortured.”
“Only if I am careless,” Richard replied with a grin. “I have done this before, cousin. Do not trouble yourself. Come, we should change so as not to delay luncheon.”
Elizabeth and Mary led Miss Darcy up the staircase to her chamber. Inside, her maid was unpacking trunks.
“Well, Lizzy,” Georgiana said, turning to her with excitement, “what shall I wear?”
The Bennet sisters looked at the day gowns laid out upon the bed, all fine and exquisite. Mary stared in awe. Elizabeth smiled and pointed to a sprigged muslin. “I like that one, Georgiana. It is lovely.”
“Could you help me with my buttons?” Georgiana asked, turning around. Elizabeth worked on the buttons while Mary fetched the sprigged muslin.
As they worked, Georgiana asked, “Are you twins?”
Elizabeth laughed. “No, my dear. I am twenty, and Mary just turned nineteen, but people often ask. Our two youngest sisters are dark as well and look much like us. Only Jane is fair, taking after our mother’s side. The rest of us favor our father’s family.”
Georgiana studied her new sister thoughtfully.
“You favor Jane, though your hair is dark. I have never seen such a likeness among sisters. My cousin Richard looks nothing like his brother Phillip. Richard resembles my brother, while Phillip is fair like the Fitzwilliam branch. My mother was blond with blue eyes, as are my uncle Henry, Aunt Catherine, and cousin Anne. Richard takes after Aunt Helen’s family; she is half French, as Fitzwilliam and I are. ”
She looked to Elizabeth. “Do you speak French, Lizzy?”
“Je parle bien francais, mon petit,” Elizabeth said with a smile.
“You speak beautifully! Perhaps we can practice together. Aunt Helen insists an accomplished woman must speak French and Italian, but I speak very poor French and no Italian at all.”
The young girl surprised a laugh out of Mary.
Georgiana turned to her. “Do you speak French, Mary?”
“Mon francais est meilleur que celui de ma s?ur, car j’aime les langues et elle préfère étudier les poètes grecs.”
Georgiana’s eyes narrowed in concentration as she struggled to translate. “Did you say that your French is better than your sister’s? I do not understand the rest of what you said.”
Mary giggled again. “I said that my French is better than my sister’s because I love studying languages, while she prefers the Greek poets.”
“So you are both scholars!”
Elizabeth smiled. “I am afraid we are. Our father is a learned man, and since we were not our mother’s favorites, he devoted his attention to our instruction.”
Mary’s smile faded. “I was no one’s favorite,” she said softly. “I am the lost child. Lizzy was Papa’s favorite and spent hours in his study learning from him. Jane and Lydia are Mama’s favorites. Kitty is Lydia’s. And I am no one’s.”
Elizabeth and Georgiana both slipped their arms around her shoulders.
Elizabeth said gently, “I am sorry, Mary. I never stopped to consider. You must have been lonely.”
Georgiana’s eyes softened. “I understand. I am a lost child, too. First, I lost my mother, then Fitzwilliam went away to university, then abroad, and afterward, we lost our father. Fitzwilliam came home, but he is busy with estates, business, and house parties. I see him so little. I have missed him.”
Mary put an arm around her in return. “Then we understand each other. Enfant égaré”
Georgiana nodded. “Enfant égaré”
In that moment, a quiet bond formed between the two girls, the two lost children.