Chapter 17 Adding Insult to Injury #2
A pang of guilt touched her heart. With the ball, the rumours, and her newly wedded state, time to familiarise herself with Georgiana had not materialised. It was long-due and Georgiana was in dire need of rescuing.
“Miss Darcy?”
Two heads turned in her direction.
“I should have said Miss Georgiana Darcy,” Elizabeth corrected herself, chuckling.
Georgiana raised her eyes rather slowly from the floor.
In Elizabeth’s defence, the girl was not easy to befriend.
She was so shy and timid that Elizabeth felt like a runaway carriage when addressing her with the simplest question.
Her folly at Ramsgate must still be weighing heavily upon her conscience, but there was not much she could do about that until the girl confided in her.
“I have household matters I need to discuss with you. If it is not an inopportune moment, I would be delighted if you would follow me to my sitting room.”
The girl rose with alacrity, which brought Elizabeth a strange sort of pleasure. At least her company was preferable to Lydia’s.
The ladies adjourned to Elizabeth’s private sitting room. Georgiana was wringing her hands as if she was bracing herself for a scolding. This would not do, but what could she offer a girl who regarded her as an ogre?
Elizabeth rose and rummaged through her bureau, finally finding the sheet she was looking for.
“This is a family heirloom.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened in horror, and she looked at the music with trepidation rather than intrigue.
“When Mozart visited London in 1764, my grandfather was allowed to copy this sheet of music. He was in the King’s Guards and was tasked with the Mozart family’s protection.
My grandmother was very fond of music and proficient on both the harpsichord and pianoforte.
This was his gift for being absent for so long, whilst she was at home with my young father,” she explained.
“The sonata is not composed by Mozart but by his sister Maria. She was just as talented as her younger brother, but as a girl, she was not allowed to expand upon her talents to the same degree. If you want, I shall make you a copy later. In the meantime you may use this, and when you play it, you will understand how unfair it was not to allow Miss Mozart the same privileges as her brother.”
“Thank you!” Georgiana whispered sincerely, with wonder in her eyes.
Elizabeth set to the task at once and copied the sheet of music for Georgiana’s pleasure. Whilst she was doing so, an idea formed in her mind.
“Would you enjoy an evening at the theatre?”
“Oh no. You must not trouble yourself on my behalf,” she demurred, looking positively frightened.
Elizabeth was pondering her response when the door to her room flew open, scaring Georgiana into the corner of the sofa.
“Who is going to the theatre?” Mrs Bennet cried. “I do long to see a play. I have rarely been, you know. A trip to Drury Lane would set me up nicely and would do much to redeem your reputation, Lizzy.”
“Drury Lane has yet to reopen after the fire, Mama.”
“Then we shall go to Covent Garden. We must show the tattlers that you are a fine, cultured lady, even though no one would come to your ball. Do say that we can go, or better yet, I shall ask Mr Darcy myself.”
“Please do not. He is much occupied with his business. I shall importune him when he has a moment to spare,” Elizabeth pleaded with her mother, who would most definitely browbeat her poor husband into compliance.
It was, however, late in the evening before Darcy returned, and when he did, he was in somewhat of a foul mood. Yet, she had much to relate, so Elizabeth braved the company of her of-late curmudgeonly husband and knocked on the door to his study.
“Enter!”
Elizabeth did as ordered and was stunned by the tired lines marring his handsome face. Realising she was the reason for his state of exhaustion was even more disconcerting.
“Have you eaten, or should I send for a tray?”
“Yes, I have eaten at my club. What do you want?”
The abrupt manner of his question made her flinch, and his eyes softened.
“Pardon me. I have just discovered that someone sent a note to our guests, rescinding the invitation to the ball due to my fabricated illness.”
“But that is good news, is it not?”
Elizabeth felt nothing but relief, thinking that not everybody wanted to shun their acquaintance. Darcy shook his head and replied with a question.
“What can I do for you, Elizabeth?”
“I have two matters I need to discuss with you.” She thought to warn him lest he was inclined to throw her out of his sanctuary after her first enquiry.
“My mother is desirous to see a play.”
She was wringing her hands in the same manner as Georgiana had done earlier and quickly hid them behind her back.
“I cannot see why not. We shall be shunned, of course. If that does not deter your mother, or you, from the entertainment, I shall not stand in your way. I have no business tomorrow night and shall book a box for the evening.”
“Thank you so much!” Elizabeth cried, even though she could imagine an entire evening of Mr Darcy’s company better spent than in a crowded box with her family.
“What was the other matter?” her husband queried impatiently.
“I have received a letter, or rather several, from my grandmother. She is reunited with her brother, the Count of Reimarus.” She paused for the information to sink in.
“We could make it known that I am not entirely without desirable connections in the hope that it might make London’s population think less ill of me. ”
Darcy rubbed his neck. It must be sore from working tirelessly on estate matters.
“In which county is the Reimarus estate located?”
“It is in Holstein, but the count has several properties. He is currently residing at his summer estate.”
“It is of no matter. Even though Holstein is part of the German federation, it is under Danish reign, and we are at war with Denmark.”
Elizabeth made to speak, but Darcy held up his hand to stop her.
“In this instance, it would be likened to proclaiming you are a distant niece of Bonaparte himself. It will not do you any service. Was there anything else?”
Quashing an angry retort, Elizabeth curtsied and left the study. She walked directly to her room and locked the door for good measure. Mr Darcy is insufferable! Her grand-uncle was a count, after all. Why did Darcy revere his Matlock relations so much if peerage did not matter?
#
Covent Garden, June 10th
The Darcy party arrived late by design. The night’s first performance, a comedy, was already playing on the stage.
Darcy would have preferred for him and his wife to sit in the back row, but the Bennet family, pushing him through the box, had effectively thwarted his plan.
He ended up in the middle with his wife to his left and, by sheer luck, the sensible Mary to his right, which saved him from making conversation with the insipid Kitty, the wild Lydia, the over-enthusiastic Mrs Bennet, or the sardonic Mr Bennet.
He would have requested a change of seats regardless, if not for the fact that it would be best not to draw much attention to their party, especially of the unattractive kind.
Introducing Elizabeth to the ton had not unfolded as he had hoped.
It was as if his every misgiving had been confirmed.
It was paramount that they righted the poor first impressions and gained the standing the Darcy name had enjoyed for centuries.
The whispers at White’s had been disconcerting to say the least. Some gentlemen had wondered why his membership at the club had not been revoked, enshrouded in scandal as he was.
His father would turn in his grave if he knew…
Elizabeth tipped her head back and released a merry peal of laughter. Helplessly, eyes drifted in the direction of the sound like flowers turned to the sun.
“Lizzy!” Mary admonished in a harsh whisper.
His wife leant forwards and turned to her sister with a confused expression. “What?”
“You are making a spectacle,” Mary hissed.
“Do not be ridiculous. I laughed, which is the purpose of watching a comedy, is it not, dear sister?”
Mary huffed but did not crowd him as Elizabeth was doing—and thank heavens for that small mercy.
What a display that would have been, to have two bickering sisters in his lap.
Darcy cleared his throat and Elizabeth resumed her seat, all mirth wiped from her countenance—her complexion faded in degrees from fiery red to a proper English shade of porcelain.
She was beautiful in her tempered but steely determination.
Beauty in nature was designed to attract mates or prey.
Spending three weeks in the company of Mrs Bennet induced him to think its purpose was much the same in society.
Even worse, Mrs Darcy had been short with him this evening, had answered his polite enquiries with monosyllabic answers, and generally avoided his presence.
Starved as he was of his wife’s delectable company, her behaviour puzzled him.
What was he in this cobweb of marriage? Prey or mate?
At the interval he discouraged the ladies from leaving their box and offered to procure refreshments.
The scowls, whispered conversations, and pointed looks directed at them were disconcerting.
Within ten minutes, everyone knew who was sitting in the third upper box from the right.
Thank heavens he had spent the extra funds on the more private upper tier.
Darcy enlisted Mr Bennet’s aid in carrying the glasses of wine and returned fifteen minutes later to a spectacle.
He heard Mrs Bennet before he could see her.
She was bickering with Lady Jersey in the corridor about the excellence of her daughters.
The exalted lady was regarding his mother by marriage as if she were a dung beetle.
This could not end well, and before he could reach them, Lady Jersey gave Mrs Bennet the cut direct.
Darcy groaned and hastened his family into the box.
“Would you know how to rein in your mother?” he asked his wife sarcastically. “Your father can obviously not be stirred.”
It was not fair to his wife, but she must see that her relations did nothing to aid their cause.
“Mother!” Elizabeth admonished, but it was all too late. “You cannot browbeat the aristocracy into liking me, and that was Lady Jersey. How are we ever to gain vouchers to Almack’s when you insult its most significant patroness?”
In Mrs Bennet’s defence, she excused herself profoundly but declared the provocation had simply been too aggravating to dismiss.
Mr Bennet wore his tiresome smirk, ill-qualified or too lackadaisical to correct his wife.
Darcy did not even bother to enquire what the quarrel had been about but wearily suggested they return to the house before anything worse happened.
He retired immediately upon arrival and called for Grey to divest him of his attire.
Once that arduous task was accomplished, he walked towards the door, intending to go to his wife as usual, but halted with his hand on the latch.
Would Elizabeth welcome his company? She was so out of sorts, and he was vexed by everything Bennet after the embarrassing display at the theatre.
Perhaps it was best to allow her to rest…