Chapter 27 #2
In time, would she be able to forget Fitzwilliam Darcy? It felt impossible to imagine such a thing. Years of work as a companion or governess in other households now stretched ahead of her like a prison sentence rather than the interesting opportunity they had once been.
“How are the children, Aunt Gardiner?” Elizabeth asked, changing the subject in search of relief as well as for genuine interest. “We have talked so much of my family and prospects and so little of yours. Do tell me how they have all been this summer.”
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“I wish we had no guests tonight, or at least not these guests,” confessed Georgiana as Elizabeth arranged a final pearl pin in the girl’s long dark hair at her dressing table the following week. “Is that very wrong of me?”
Elizabeth met the younger woman’s eye in the looking glass and gave a small smile, actually feeling very much the same way herself about Miss Bingley and the Hursts coming for supper at Darcy House tonight. But of course, it would not do to say so.
“We cannot always be in the mood for company, but we still have a duty of civility and hospitality when someone is a guest in our home,” Elizabeth said instead. “It is only one evening, and perhaps they will not stay too late.”
“They always stay late,” complained Georgiana, turning round to face Elizabeth. “Mr Hurst drinks too much, and Miss Bingley badgers my brother incessantly, although he gives her no encouragement. Mrs Hurst does play the pianoforte extremely well, but I would much rather play with you.”
“Only one evening,” Elizabeth repeated, unable to deny anything Georgiana had said.
“Mr Darcy has been playing peacemaker between Mr Bingley and his sisters, I suspect. If tonight’s supper helps reconcile the Bingley family and bring everyone together happily at Jane’s wedding, then I shall do my best with all your guests tonight. ”
With a sigh and a nod, Georgiana Darcy looked back to the mirror, accepting the inevitable as Elizabeth had already done herself.
“I like my hair better when you do it than any of the maids, Elizabeth. Mrs Annesley has no interest in hair as long as it is neat and tightly pinned.”
“With four sisters, I have had much practice,” Elizabeth told her.
“I wish you were my sister too,” responded the girl, and Elizabeth bent to kiss her on the cheek.
“Then you shall be my honorary fifth sister, Georgiana.”
The younger woman smiled delightedly and then laughed.
“But what about Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst? Once Jane marries their brother, won’t they be your sisters, too?”
“If they treat Jane as a sister, I dare say I might think kindly of them,” Elizabeth said in response to this small jest. “Sisterhood is not so easy to come by, however. Now, let us go downstairs before they arrive.”
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“How lovely to see Miss Darcy again!” Miss Bingley exclaimed with a bright smile that did not reach her eyes. “It feels like an age since we were last at Darcy House.”
Georgiana Darcy received Miss Bingley’s embrace politely but stiffly, as she also received Mrs Hurst’s greeting and an unfocused nod from the permanently well-refreshed Mr Hurst. The visiting ladies bowed and curtsied before Mr Darcy too, before giving Elizabeth a minimal acknowledgement that amused rather than irritated her.
Mr Hurst’s greeting to her was the same drunken leer she remembered from their last encounter, but thankfully Mr Darcy seemed aware of the man’s attitude and steered him immediately away from Elizabeth and Georgiana as they proceeded to the drawing room for drinks before supper.
“We have been away from London,” Georgiana responded as they took seats on the sofas and chairs, Mr Hurst going straight to the drinks tray on the sideboard before the waiting footman had any chance to serve them.
“First, we went to Kent, then Pemberley, and then Brighton. Now, I think we will stay here until autumn.”
“Ah, of course. What a busy few months you have had, Miss Darcy and Mr Darcy,” said Mrs Hurst, carefully ignoring her husband’s ill manners in serving himself before Darcy’s invitation. “You too, Miss Bennet, I hear.”
Louisa Hurst looked rather slyly at Elizabeth as she spoke, as if to gauge her reaction, but Elizabeth only gave a nod, leaving Mr Darcy to comment first.
“Indeed, I look forward to a quieter summer now,” he said. “I hope we need do no more travelling until the autumn, when we will all be going to Netherfield for the wedding.”
Mr Darcy’s remark was met with polite silence, Charles Bingley’s sisters smiling fixedly but giving no indication greater than that of a thawing in their attitudes towards their brother’s marriage.
“I do love a wedding,” declared Mr Hurst loudly before sitting down heavily on a chair where he had been consigned by Mr Darcy, some distance from the sofa where Elizabeth and Georgiana sat. “Especially when the bridesmaids are pretty, eh, Darcy?”
Receiving no response whatsoever to his words, Mr Hurst emitted a loud belch that only made the general lack of conversation more acute.
“Miss Jane Bennet is to have four bridesmaids,” Georgiana suddenly spoke up, looking to Elizabeth and her brother, as if for approval. “Their dresses sound very well indeed, and the plan for their bouquets too.”
“Four bridesmaids?” queried Miss Bingley, looking rather down her nose towards Elizabeth, with a cold smile. “Is that quite correct, Miss Bennet?”
“Three,” Elizabeth corrected Georgiana. “My sister Lydia is newly married and can no longer serve in this role. She and her husband will likely remain in Brighton.”
“Yes, I heard about that…from my maid, whose cousin works in Brighton,” Mrs Hurst came in. “Your younger sister’s husband is a…theatrical gentleman, is he not?”
“Mr Michelson owns the Hyperion Theatre in Brighton, yes,” Elizabeth confirmed, as neutrally as she could, beginning to understand now that while Mr Bingley’s sisters might have been forced to accept their brother’s choice of wife, any truce would not extend to Elizabeth.
“We shall go into supper now,” Mr Darcy announced, abruptly ending the awkward exchange. “Come along, Hurst.”
Discarding his brandy glass and offering his arms to his sister and Elizabeth, Darcy led the way out of the drawing room, leaving the guests to follow.
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The needling from Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst did not stop in the dining room.
It was clear that they had accepted Mr Darcy’s supper invitation not only to bridge the rift with their brother, but also to winkle out whatever gossip they could about Lydia Bennet’s mysterious marriage, and to make Elizabeth as uncomfortable as they could in the process.
Still, Elizabeth considered that she was made of sterner stuff than either of Charles Bingley’s sisters. She fended them off politely but firmly over all three supper courses.
“How do you like Mr Michelson, Miss Bennet?” Miss Bingley asked her, malicious humour shining in her eyes as roast chicken with creamed vegetables followed their watercress soup. “As a brother-in-law, I do hope he meets with your approval.”
“Mr Michelson appears to be honest and hard-working. He inherited the Hyperion Theatre from his uncle and is running it well, by all accounts. I cannot claim I know him well enough to venture much more than that.”
“Yes, it was all very sudden, wasn’t it?” remarked Mrs Hurst with false sympathy. “Very sudden indeed. But was it wise, I wonder?”
“I suppose that to be Mr and Mrs Michelson’s own business,” Mr Darcy entered the conversation with the evident intention of closing it, much to Elizabeth’s relief. “I see no reason for us to take a view on subjects where we can have little interest and even less knowledge.”
“I hear she’s an actress, that sister of yours,” put in Mr Hurst, apropos of nothing, with a drunken wink in Elizabeth’s direction.
“I see no reason for us to take a view on subjects where we can have little interest and even less knowledge,” Darcy restated more forcefully, directing his words this time to Mr Hurst. “The ladies would prefer to speak of worthier matters, Mr Hurst. Do not lower the tone.”
With wide but insincere smiles, Miss Bingley and her sister acceded to their host’s direction, no happier with Mr Hurst’s behaviour than anyone else at the table.
They moved on the discussion to society and events in London for the rest of the summer, a topic that then carried the party through the lemon mousse without further clashes.
“Not sitting over port tonight, Darcy?” Mr Hurst asked with obvious disappointment as Darcy rose from the table at the end of the meal along with the ladies. “You have damned fine port here at Darcy House.”
“I thought we might smoke a cigar,” Darcy answered, already at the man’s side, although looking to Elizabeth more like a guard than a companion. “Let us go to the smoking room while the ladies have their coffee in the music room.”
“Cigars, yes. Cigars and port. I’d like that. Damned fine cigars, damned fine port…maybe hear more about that actress too, heh, heh, heh…”
Elizabeth swallowed as Mr Hurst was led from the dining room almost forcibly, his voice and unpleasant laughter fading away as Mr Darcy walked him towards the smoking room.
How could Mrs Hurst bear living with such a crude and drunken creature?
Charlotte had been right that there were far worse husbands in the world than Mr Collins.
She could not help looking to Louisa Hurst with sympathy, but that lady’s haughty expression neither acknowledged nor encouraged any further engagement.
“I should like a coffee very much,” said Georgiana, slipping her arm through Elizabeth’s. “Then maybe we can play the pianoforte for a while.”
“That would be good,” Elizabeth agreed, knowing that while there was music, there would be less opportunity for unpleasant conversation.
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