Chapter 6
Colonel Fitzwilliam accompanied Georgiana and Elizabeth to the newly opened Egyptian Hall in Piccadilly.
Their footsteps echoed through the grand vestibule, bouncing off the polished marble and soaring walls.
Georgiana, wide-eyed and a little overwhelmed, clung to Elizabeth’s arm, her gaze jumping from the painted hieroglyphs to the sparkle of gilded lotus columns.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had witnessed little of such spectacle during his years in service, found himself quietly astonished.
Elizabeth leaned in, her voice a low note of wonder. “What an extraordinary place, Miss Darcy! It truly feels as though we’ve been transported to another world.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled, watching Georgiana trace the air with her gloved finger, mimicking the unfamiliar script on the walls. “Indeed, Miss Bennet, I believe London has outdone Egypt itself tonight.”
Beyond the main walkway, the Pantherion diorama drew their attention—a lush panorama of exotic palms and immense African animals: an elephant, grander than any at the Tower Menagerie; a tall giraffe, its head brushing the canopy; a striped zebra; and several creatures none of them could name.
Georgiana gasped as the mechanical rhinoceros slowly turned its heavy head, while two dazzling birds flashed scarlet and blue.
“They look almost alive,” she whispered.
Elizabeth’s curiosity led her to a display of papyrus scrolls and a case of amulets, their gold and lapis lazuli catching the gaslight. She turned to the Colonel, eyes alight. “Do you think, Colonel, there’s any real magic left in these ancient things?”
He laughed. “If there is, Miss Bennet, I suspect it’s working tonight.
Look at Georgiana—she’s thoroughly enchanted.
To see her laugh again, after her troubles at school…
Her brother, always so careful, sent her there on Miss Bingley’s advice, only to discover Miss Bingley was considered a terror by the school staff. ”
“Miss Bingley, surely not! I’ve heard of a woman by that name,” Elizabeth said. “Does she have a brother? A Mr. Charles Bingley has just taken Netherfield Park, near my father’s estate at Meryton.”
“I believe it’s the same family. She holds herself very high…
but I fear I’ve said too much already. It’s not a subject I should dwell on, as someone dear to me may have developed an unfortunate tendre for her.
” He paused, a hint of regret flickering across his face.
“But come, Georgiana’s found artefacts Captain Cook brought back from the South Seas.
Some of the weapons are said to be fearsome—clubs over six feet long, their wood so hard even a bayonet can barely mark them.
Would you indulge me, Miss Bennet? As a soldier, I can’t help but be fascinated. ”
Elizabeth laughed. “If you do, sir, you must let me enjoy the baskets and bark cloth mats. As a woman who spends her time netting purses and covering screens, I find them far more interesting. Truly, I’d rather see the collection of pearl shells used as money by so-called savages.
Though, I suspect, they’re no more savage than the French think the English to be! ”
Colonel Fitzwilliam led the way, stopping at a case where spears and shields stood upright, their lacquered surfaces gleaming beneath the light from the clerestory windows.
He pointed out a long, notched club, dark as mahogany.
“The workmanship is remarkable,” he observed, his hand hovering reverently above the case.
“Imagine the stories these could tell—voyages across vast oceans, perhaps even fierce battles on distant islands.”
Georgiana’s shyness faded as she examined a row of carved masks, her brow knit with curiosity. “Did you ever see anything like this abroad, Richard?”
He shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips. “No, Georgiana. My campaigns were far less exotic—mud, smoke, and little else. But I would have given much to see the wonders that Cook did.”
Elizabeth, meanwhile, knelt by a low platform where mats, baskets, and strings of shell currency were displayed.
She picked up a basket, admiring the precise weaving.
“Such patience and skill! I think these artists could put the best ladies’ academies to shame.
And look, Miss Darcy—see how the shells are threaded?
” She lifted a strand, letting the dull pearly fragments slip through her fingers.
“Imagine the fortunes that might change hands—if only London tradesmen would accept such coin. Perhaps I should convince Lady Jersey that these would free the bank from the Royal Mint’s tyranny. ”
Georgiana joined in, smiling. “I’d like to pay my brother for my new music books with these, instead of shillings. He’d be dreadfully confused.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam smirked, glancing at both young women. “I believe your brother would accept any currency, Georgiana, if it made you happy.”
Suddenly, a hush fell as a steward announced the start of the magic lantern exhibition in the adjoining gallery. Lanterns painted with scenes of pyramids and pharaohs would soon cast their wonders onto a great white screen.
Elizabeth rose, smoothing her skirts. “Shall we go, Colonel? Miss Darcy? I’ve never seen anything like it, and I confess, I’m eager to be further amazed.”
* * *
“William, must we really go back to Pemberley? I was having such a wonderful time in London. Just last week, Richard took me to the Egyptian Hall, and next Wednesday, we planned to visit the Spring Gardens exhibition—the one held by the Society of Painters in Oil and Water Colours. Their pamphlet promised paintings, drawings, and sculptures by more than forty women artists. I would so love to see it.”
Darcy took Georgiana’s hands in his. “I’m sorry, dearest, but I have to return to Pemberley on urgent business.
” His expression darkened as he looked away.
“I cannot explain, but matters of great concern have arisen. I cannot leave you here in London—Richard is due to resume duties at Horse Guards, and you are too young to set up your own establishment. Certainly, a boarding school is out of the question. As soon as my business is resolved, we shall return—perhaps a visit to the theatre to see a play?”
“Could I stay with Aunt Alice and Uncle Gerald at Matlock House, then?”
“They’re planning to visit relatives in Scotland, far from London. Maybe, when they return to Masson Hill in Derbyshire, you could stay with them. But that might not be for several months.”
Georgiana sighed. “All right. I can see you’re deeply worried—and I’d much rather live with you than be sent back to school. Is there anything I can do to help? I know someone who’s quite skilled with money, if that’s the problem.”
Darcy glanced at her sharply, then drew her into an embrace.
How could Georgiana know anything about money?
She hadn’t even been born when his father made the investment—or so the solicitors claimed.
Please let the papers and deeds be at Pemberley, he thought, since they are certainly not in London.
Father, surely you left some record of the transaction and the sale of the shares?
The journey from London to Pemberley took three days.
Fortunately, the weather stayed fair, and they made good time—about forty miles each day, changing horses three times per leg.
Georgiana’s spirits lifted as they entered Derbyshire, and by the time their carriage emerged from Pemberley Woods and the Great House rose before the lake, she was nearly bubbling with excitement.
Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper, and Winthrop, the butler, greeted them and led them to the drawing room. There, a pleasant, well-mannered lady stood and offered Darcy a graceful curtsey.
“Mrs. Younge,” Winthrop announced.
“Thank you for coming so promptly,” Darcy said, turning to Georgiana. “I’ve hired Mrs. Younge to be your companion while we’re in Derbyshire. She’s from Bakewell, so she knows the area well.”
“Mrs. Younge,” Georgiana murmured, “it’s very nice to meet you. I’m sorry, but the journey has left me rather tired—I think I’ll retire for the evening. Perhaps we can talk at breakfast?”
Darcy was a little surprised by his sister’s quick departure. After all, despite the long journey, she’d been bright and eager to return to her beloved Pemberley.
“I’ll retire as well, Mr. Darcy, since I’m sure you have much to attend to,” Mrs. Younge said, curtseying again as she followed Georgiana out.
She seemed younger than he remembered from their interview in London, but that hardly mattered.
In fact, perhaps a companion closer to Georgiana’s age would be better—his sister rarely had friends her own age when staying at Matlock House with Aunt Alice.
* * *
This would never do! His study was more disordered than he had ever seen it, with bundles of documents scattered across his desk and piled on the floor.
Darcy rang for the housekeeper. “Mrs. Reynolds, I wish to have the large dining room cleared—remove all the silverware and plates from the benches and table. Also, have the chairs removed, for I wish to use the table to sort through my documents.”
The housekeeper regarded the Master, whom she had known since he was four years old, with wry compassion.
She had never seen him so distressed. When his father had died, the young master had held his tears, remaining stoic through a harrowing period of despair; but there was never this desperation, this search consuming all his attention.
Then, he had focused on his responsibilities: managing Pemberley and protecting his young sister, Georgiana.
Mrs. Reynolds hurried away, calling footmen and maids to clear the dining room—as to where the plate, candelabra, and epergnes would go, she scarcely knew. But, in Pemberley, it would be done, quietly, efficiently, as it always had been.