Chapter 13
“Mrs Annesley always goes to Carter’s in Jermyn Street,” said Georgiana as they discussed new boots at the breakfast table, around a week after their visit to the opera. “My present winter boots were from Carter’s.”
“Then we shall go there first,” replied Elizabeth. “Mrs Annesley knows London and its shoemakers far better than I do. If you wish, we can look elsewhere too. I could also ask my aunt for other recommendations when I call at Gracechurch Street this afternoon.”
Elizabeth glanced across the table towards Mr Darcy, who had offered no views so far on their proposed shopping expedition.
He appeared fully occupied with his newspaper and teacup, paying them little attention.
Miss Darcy clearly felt free to order whatever shoes and other clothing she required, and Elizabeth assumed that there was no need to ask Mr Darcy’s permission.
There had been no repeat of their heated exchange in the hallway that had so upset Georgiana Darcy.
Elizabeth still resented Mr Darcy over his failure to inform Mr Bingley of Jane being in London.
She supposed that Mr Darcy likely still considered her challenge to him rude and unreasonable.
Peace was therefore largely achieved by maintaining a constant level of polite but distant formality on both sides.
“Can we take the small carriage this morning, Brother?” Georgiana asked. “It looks like rain, and my winter boots are leaking.”
“Hence the need for a new pair,” commented Mr Darcy with a smile to his sister and a polite nod in Elizabeth’s direction. “Of course you may. I might ride in the park later if the rain is only light, but I will not need a carriage.”
After this remark, he raised his newspaper and ignored them again, the gesture irritating Elizabeth more than she knew it should.
As master of the house and her employer, Mr Darcy was under no obligation to entertain Elizabeth or make polite conversation, any more than to spend time in her presence.
She did not desire that he should, but his dismissive behaviour was still annoying.
While Mr Darcy spoke to Elizabeth only rarely, he did not absent himself entirely, often wandering around Darcy House, watching or listening silently to her interactions with Miss Darcy.
Elizabeth wished he would do one thing or the other: either leave them alone, or join in their conversations.
The quiet loitering was awkward and frustrating.
It also raised the question of whether Mr Darcy doubted her judgement or capability. Elizabeth supposed she could not blame him, young and inexperienced as she was, and yet the lingering doubt left her feeling strangely irritated.
∞∞∞
“Jane, it is so good to see you,” said Elizabeth with heartfelt feeling as she embraced her sister in the hallway at Gracechurch Street that afternoon, her weekly half-day holiday.
“And you, Lizzy. Are you not still happy at Darcy House? If you are not, you must tell our aunt and uncle. Aunt Gardiner went out for luncheon with a friend but will be home to see you presently.”
“No, no. It is nothing like that,” Elizabeth quickly reassured her concerned sister.
“I am happy there, I think. Miss Darcy is a very easy charge and far easier to live with than our own younger sisters, I must say. The servants at Darcy House have also been most welcoming, contrary to what I expected from the experience of companions in novels.”
“Then, is it Mr Darcy? Is he a difficult man to work for?” asked Jane with both sympathy and worry.
Elizabeth laughed instinctively at this as they walked through to the drawing room, arm in arm.
“No, I cannot say that he is, although he does aggravate me dreadfully, Jane. Mr Darcy is always polite, sensible and attentive to his sister’s wellbeing.
I could not fault him as an employer, nor as a brother.
Likely it is my own contrary nature that makes me so cross at him.
Well, that and his collusion with Mr Bingley’s conniving sisters to keep the poor man away from you. ”
“Lizzy,” remarked Jane, shaking her head warningly, “you should not talk of collusion. Caroline Bingley likely only forgot to tell her brother that I was in town. As you said in your letter to me last week, the Bingleys have a busy social life in London and she must make many such calls.”
“Hmmm,” Elizabeth responded noncommittally, unconvinced by the explanation she had indeed offered to Jane in the hope of sparing her feelings. “You may believe that if you wish. I cannot, if I am honest. Indeed, I had quite a row with Mr Darcy after the night we met Mr Bingley at the opera.”
“A bad row?” Jane probed, seeming almost afraid to ask.
Elizabeth sighed and nodded ruefully.
“I know, Jane, I know, but I am afraid so. It was a row bad enough and loud enough that it brought Georgiana Darcy downstairs crying and begging us to stop.”
“Oh, Lizzy!” Jane reproved her. “You must be more careful. You are not at home now, but in Mr Darcy’s own house, remember. Sometimes you speak too quickly and too rashly.”
“Well, Mr Darcy was wrong not to tell his friend that you were here. He is also obtuse not to understand that. When I think of how long he let you believe that Mr Bingley had forgotten you, when all the time —”
“That is all over now,” Jane interrupted, taking Elizabeth’s hand and smiling.
“Mr Bingley has sent his card to our uncle and asked if he might call at Gracechurch Street one afternoon. I hope to see him again soon. Please do not lose your position at Darcy House over me, and over a misunderstanding that is likely now resolved.”
“I shall do my best,” Elizabeth replied, glad to hear of Mr Bingley’s approach and keen to preserve Jane’s current hopes.
“Miss Darcy is a charming girl, and I shall devote all my energies to keeping her company and leave none for fretting about Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley and his presumption in interfering in other people’s lives. ”
“Lizzy,” Jane laughed, though with a certain note of warning in her voice. “You’re doing it again.”
“I know, I know. I shall stop at once. There. We shall talk only of his sister. Oh, that reminds me of one false fact from Caroline Bingley of which I must apprise you. Do you remember that letter to Longbourn in which she spoke of her brother potentially marrying Miss Darcy someday?”
Jane nodded, her expression serious.
“It was complete and utter nonsense, Jane!” Elizabeth declared gaily.
“What do you mean?”
“Not only is Miss Darcy far too young in spirit to marry anyone, and not even out in society yet, which is no bad thing at sixteen, in my opinion…I have also seen her with Mr Bingley and can affirm that there is nothing between them but a natural family friendship. Indeed, he sees her only as Mr Darcy’s sister and still half as a child. ”
Jane coloured slightly, her mouth curving into an involuntary smile.
“Oh? Caroline must have been mistaken,” she remarked. “I suppose that if she wishes for her brother to make a good marriage and be happy, it is natural that she should look first to their family friends. Her own hopes in that regard may have blinded her to the reality you describe.”
Elizabeth looked at her sister with both affection and bemusement. It was hard to know whether to laugh or cry sometimes at Jane’s deep-seated faith in the essential good nature of all.
“Well, whatever explanation you choose, Jane, can we agree that the words of Mr Bingley’s sisters should not be entirely trusted? I hope you will not take any future letters from those ladies too literally.”
“Caroline has not written since she called here,” answered Jane. “I don’t expect any future letters, although perhaps if Mr Bingley calls here, she will come with him.”
Elizabeth hoped that Miss Bingley would not. Her presence could only poison the conversation and prevent her brother from showing his true feelings for Jane.
“We shall cross that bridge when we come to it, then,” Elizabeth said kindly. “Only please remember how little Miss Bingley’s word is to be relied upon, regardless of explanation.”
“I shall try to be more pragmatic, but I do not want to be unfair either,” responded Jane reluctantly.
Further conversation on this subject or any other personal matters were ended by the arrival of Mrs Gardiner from her luncheon party and then a rush of children eager to show their mother and older cousins the results of their learning in the nursery that day.
∞∞∞
“Ah, they are finally arrived,” announced Mr Darcy, closing his book with a snap at the sound of carriage wheels rolling up outside.
It was the first thing Mr Darcy had said in over an hour of sitting with Miss Darcy and Elizabeth in the library at Darcy House, waiting for the Bingleys and Hursts to arrive for supper.
Over the top of her own book, Elizabeth watched him stand from his chair by the fire before helping the yawning Georgiana Darcy to her feet from the sofa they had been sharing.
“Oh my, I nearly fell asleep, Miss Bennet,” said Miss Darcy drowsily. “What time is it? Is my dress very crumpled?”
“It is half-past eight, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth returned with a smile, straightening the girl’s pink silk sash once more. “Your dress is no more crumpled than mine and very well for a family supper, unless your brother thinks otherwise.”
She looked to Darcy, who seemed startled by this indirect request for his views on feminine dress.
“You both look very well,” he told them, his eyes barely glancing at their pale silk evening dresses, and his expression one of forced politeness. “Simple and elegant.”
Elizabeth could not help smiling, reflecting that this might be the greatest compliment she had ever received, or ever would receive from Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy – a man she had once overheard describing her as “tolerable” at the Meryton assembly rooms.
“Did I say something amusing?” he asked with a slight frown of confusion, and Elizabeth regretted not better controlling her features.