Prologue #2
Georgiana's eyes sparkled with amusement and she gave a little clap of her hands at Richard’s speech.
“That was very clever of you,” she said softly.
Then she shifted her gaze toward Darcy, her eyes narrowing as she attempted the same stratagem.
“You wrote that Miss Bennet is renowned as the beauty of the county—perhaps her sister is not as pleasing to the eye as she is to the mind?”
Darcy gritted his teeth, refusing to betray his burning desire to defend Elizabeth as the finest creature walking the earth.
Elizabeth’s style of beauty was incomparable, for it was enhanced by her effervescent spirit and her playful wit.
And certainly his affection for her was deeper than Bingley’s superficial infatuation with Jane Bennet.
He glared at his companions, desperate to retreat.
“I ought not to tease you so,” Georgiana conceded. “Indeed, it is Miss Bennet and not her sister of whom I ought to think well; whatever your feelings for Miss Elizabeth may be, it is the future Mrs. Bingley who deserves my good wishes,” Georgiana said, giving Richard an arch look.
He took the bait, responding with a knowing smile. “And why is that, dearest?”
“I have the good sense to hope that a young lady of a diffident disposition, who possesses a few relations of whom she might be reasonably embarrassed, and who is expected to marry to advantage might actually enjoy a true love match, despite having such a mark against her that even a tradesman’s daughter sniping her way through her fifth year out in society might object. ”
For a moment, Darcy and his cousin could only share a look of astonishment at Georgiana’s uncharacteristic effrontery. Then Richard gave a roar of laughter and applause, waggling his eyebrows at Darcy. “A hit acknowledged,” he deadpanned, making a sweeping gesture with an imaginary fencing foil.
Georgiana’s eyes widened, but before she could apologize, Darcy laid a hand on her shoulder. “What happened last summer with Wickham is not a mark against you,” he said gently.
“If Miss Bingley knew of it, she might think Miss Bennet a better match for her brother than me, despite all of her little hints.”
Darcy had not realized his sister was aware of Miss Bingley’s avaricious scheme to unite their families once, in the hope of doing so a second time for her own sake.
He sighed, reminded again of Elizabeth's partiality for Wickham. He could fault neither of the ladies he was so fond of for their willingness to see the good in a man of charming manners—the fault was all Wickham’s for such duplicity.
Before he could give his sister any further assurances, she smiled weakly and nudged his shoulder with her own.
“I am past the worst of my heartache, and I would spare you such disappointment, if I can. You admire Miss Elizabeth as you have never before admired any lady, and the obstacles seem to be of your own invention, Will. Our family is just as… varied in character….”
Richard grinned and gave a jaunty wave of his hand as both Darcy siblings glanced his way. “I am a deeply deranged blight upon the family dignity to be sure, and our Aunt Catherine is the most mercenary mother in England.”
“And her parson is heir to the Bennets’ estate,” Darcy quipped, eliciting a howl of amusement from his cousin.
Georgiana squeezed her brother’s hand to reclaim his attention.
“If you remain so determined to invent objections to Miss Elizabeth, I fear that either your friendship with Bingley will suffer, or your sanity shall. And I am inclined to take up the defense of any young lady whose circumstances resemble my own. I am a timid creature facing daunting expectations on the marriage mart, and I have endured the friendship of Miss Bingley, which is not any better than her disapproval, I daresay. If not for Mr. Bingley or Miss Elizabeth, can you not think kindly of Miss Bennet for my sake?”
Darcy smiled at his beloved sister, and then gave his cousin a look of triumph.
He could not do otherwise than indulge Georgiana, whose present entreaty was endearing and admirable.
And perhaps it would teach Richard that his raillery was not half so effective as Georgiana’s gentler approach.
“I will do my best,” he said earnestly. “I am tired from travelling, and in want of some refreshment, but I promise that I shall give the matter considerable thought indeed, when my mind is at leisure to do so.”
He was as good as his word, and three weeks later, when Charles Bingley called in Belgrave Square, Darcy was of a completely different opinion on the wedding, though he had not attended.
He offered his old friend his apologies, citing his business in London rather than admitting he had not wanted to risk Georgiana encountering Mr. Wickham, though she had been as keen to attend as Darcy had become after all her persuasion.
“It must seem like a scandalously rushed business, or at least that is what Caroline told me,” Bingley said, laughing despite the truth in his statement.
One might get entirely the wrong impression about such a hasty marriage, though Darcy had come to believe Jane Bennet was not the kind of woman who would have entrapped his friend in such a way.
After all, Elizabeth Bennet was too worthy herself to be devoted to a lady of dubious morals.
“It was her mother,” Bingley admitted with a shake of his head that spoke volumes.
“Jane had no wish for all the fuss her mother wished to make of wedding planning, and now that we are wed, I do not know how I could have waited any longer without running mad. You really ought to take a wife, Darcy—it is jolly good fun!”
At Darcy’s side, Georgiana discreetly nudged him, and he found he had no wish to argue with his friend. “Pray, where is Mrs. Bingley now? I should like to offer her my heartiest congratulations.”
“So would I,” Georgiana echoed. “I have been eager to make her acquaintance since first I heard news of your engagement.”
“I suppose she is with your sisters,” Darcy said cautiously. He was rewarded with a knowing smile from his old friend.
“The Hursts were obliged to attend to urgent matters at their estate in Shropshire which shall require their presence for many weeks more, and Caroline accompanied them,” Bingley replied, a twinkle in his eye suggesting his sister had not gone of her own free will.
“Jane is shopping with her aunt, Mrs. Gardiner, who resides here in London; we have both found ourselves in want of a new winter wardrobe, for—you will never believe it—I have purchased an estate in Derbyshire, Darcy! You may recall that when I took the lease of Netherfield at Michaelmas, I was disappointed that another buyer moved more quickly than I in securing Macallister Manor—well, there was some complication that arose and the transaction never proceeded—I shall not bore you with the details—but I came to London as soon as my solicitor sent word of it, and everything ought to be settled on the morrow! We shall set out for Meryton very early Friday morning and attend Miss Lucas’s wedding to Mr. Collins, and then all of my bride’s relations shall accompany us to our new home just in time for Christmas!
You are both invited to travel with us, of course,” Mr. Bingley said, fairly panting at the end of his effusions.
“We would be delighted to join in your merriment,” Georgiana cried, clapping her hands and giving an eager little bounce.
“Capital! I have often thought how well you would get on with my dear Jane,” Bingley said.
Georgiana gave her brother a supremely smug smile. “That is delightful to hear! And I understand she has several sisters—what of them?”
“They are all perfectly charming creatures,” Mr. Bingley said, but then shifted uncomfortably.
“The younger ones are about your age, though they are more, ah, energetic in their pursuits. Miss Elizabeth—Miss Bennet, now—she is a most amusing young woman, and she shares your talent at the pianoforte. She is also as fond of jests as the colonel—will your cousin be at Pemberley or Matlock? I confess I have always wanted to attend their famous Twelfth Night celebration, and Caroline will be mad with envy if I do so without her.”
Recollecting what Richard had said about desiring an introduction to Elizabeth, Darcy clenched his jaw.
Georgiana appeared to recall the comment with greater amusement than Darcy could muster, for she gave him a saucy look before telling Bingley, “I shall make certain that he is included in all our happy schemes in Derbyshire. He did say that he would be given some leave in the new year, after first travelling north on some very secretive business for his new post at the Intelligence Department at the War Office.”
“Not too secretive, I hope—I should like to hear all about his heroics when we are all in Derbyshire together,” Bingley cried. “Well, capital! Shall you join our happy caravan northward on Friday?”
Darcy was obliged to demur once more, fearful of his sister encountering George Wickham in Meryton. “I shall need a few more days to conclude some business here in London before we can travel—we may be a day or two behind you in reaching Derbyshire, but we shall send word when we reach Pemberley.”
Bingley shook hands warmly with him, preparing to take his leave. “I really am the happiest of men!”
Considering the prospect of Elizabeth Bennet at Pemberley for Christmas, Darcy silently echoed that sentiment.