Chapter Six
Pemberley’s monthly ball was fast approaching, but Elizabeth had known better than to extend a direct invitation.
She talked about it openly and made it clear my presence was welcome, but the thought of an evening of socialising and having to remember every rule of etiquette still sounded like torture.
I considered the rumours I’d only encourage with my absence and tried to find a solution that involved me hiding away in my chambers with a pile of books and an equally tall tower of gingerbread, while still maintaining my family’s reputation.
No answer presented itself, so I resolved to put it out of my mind every time it came up.
Kitty and I didn’t speak about it. We covered every other conceivable topic as we walked the grounds or met at night in the library—from our childhoods to the books I read to the countries she wanted to visit.
It hadn’t occurred to me she thought I would be in attendance at the ball until she brought up the topic over breakfast on the day it was scheduled.
“Are there many suitors vying for a space on your dance card, Georgiana?” she asked, spreading butter on a thick slice of toast. “How many more balls until you are married?”
I almost spat out my tea at the very thought. Having just a little more decorum than that, I choked it down instead, hiding my mouth behind a napkin.
“No!” I protested between coughs. I vehemently hated the idea of Kitty believing I had any interest in Lambton’s most eligible bachelors.
As soon as my throat was clear, I leapt to clarify things.
“No suitors. No dance cards. Charming as I am sure they are, I prefer to avoid such events as this evening.”
Elizabeth met my eye and offered what appeared to be a sympathetic smile, but thankfully she did not add her voice to Kitty’s.
“You’re not going?” Kitty asked, eyes wide with surprise and, I perhaps deluded myself, a little disappointment.
“You know you are more than welcome,” Darcy said, stifling a yawn behind his hand, still half asleep. “Your company is encouraged, even.”
“Thank you,” I told him. “I… I still am not sure whether I’ll go.”
“Oh,” Kitty said. For several moments, she was silent, until she burst out with something like she could no longer keep it inside. “I want you to be there.”
We stared at each other, neither sure what to say. My heart felt too tight in my chest, like it had grown two sizes without my consent.
“It is not really something I am much good at,” I whispered. “Forgive me.”
The level of sincerity felt out of balance with the context, but I felt so regretful to have to deny Kitty something.
Neither of us said much more as we finished our breakfast, with Elizabeth and a slowly waking Darcy carrying the conversation.
The moment her plate was clean, Kitty made herself scarce.
Not one to be outdone when it came to matters of seclusion, I hid myself away in the one place I knew she wouldn’t be.
I had shared the library with her, but I’d never had the occasion to take her to the shell grotto.
I sat on the bench and traced the rough texture of the walls, considering whether I could stay there for the whole evening.
It was a tempting thought, but the underground cove went from pleasantly cool to bitingly cold at night.
Sitting alone, trying to find meaning in trailing patterns of scallop shells, I thought over my answer to Kitty.
She wanted to see me.
When our hands brushed together in the library, she didn’t pull away.
She watched me play piano like I was Mozart, rather than merely an amateur.
She delighted in losing to me at chess. I had never excelled in mathematics, but even I could admit there was something encouraging about it all when it was added up.
One evening. I would never get a lifetime of this feeling, but perhaps I could allow myself just one night.
I had learnt from Frances and from the Georgiana of the past, so incautious with Helena. I would be careful.
Leaping to my feet, I fled the grotto and headed for the house. There wasn’t much time left.
It was not often I visited Emma’s room in the staff quarters since there was rarely an emergency I wanted to bother her with, but I didn’t know whom else to go to.
My brother was out of the question, and I wasn’t sure I could look Elizabeth in the eye when I was experiencing such unspeakable feelings for her sister.
Of everyone else at Pemberley, I trusted my lady’s maid the most. I rushed into her room quickly enough to give her a start.
It was only when she jumped, stabbing her needle into her thumb from the surprise, that I realised I should’ve knocked first.
“My apologies,” I said, my cheeks flushed. “I can come back. I never meant to—”
“It’s not a problem,” Emma said, smiling like I was an overexcited child who’d just run into her knees. She sucked her thumb into her mouth to stop the blood welling up. “Even without you to startle me, I prick my fingers at least once an hour. Is something wrong?”
I chewed on my lip, unsure exactly what I wanted to ask for.
Despite the best efforts of my governesses and those I knew in London, I didn’t often like to show my face at large gatherings.
A roomful of people was so readily intimidating.
In truth, I wanted Emma to teach me how to walk into a ballroom and not immediately want to lower my gaze, but that wasn’t her job.
She wasn’t there to hold my hand. Instead, I opted for vagueness.
“Can you help me?” I pleaded, sounding as pathetic as I was sure I looked.
Emma set aside the chemise she had been mending and cocked her head to look me over. I probably seemed awfully desperate for a person clearly in no mortal peril.
“Of course. What is it you need?” she said, getting to her feet and brushing out her apron. Ready for duty. I was going to have to insist that my brother increase her wages after this.
Not able to bear meeting Emma’s eyes, I appraised her shoes as I mumbled my specific request.
“I want to look pretty. The ball tonight… I want to go, and I…”
“Have someone to impress?” she guessed, picking up my sentence where I left it.
My cheeks burned, more than answering the question. I did not dare to open my mouth, afraid I wouldn’t be cautious enough and would accidentally reveal far too many of my secrets. If I confirmed Emma’s suspicions, she would ask me who it was, and Kitty’s name could not pass my lips.
“Sorry, it’s not my place,” Emma said, once it was clear her teasing hadn’t been received as she’d hoped. She cleared her throat and offered a smile. “If there was ever an occasion to wear that new pink dress of yours, I would think trying to catch a man’s eye would be it.”
I knew exactly the one she meant. It had been a farewell gift when I left London, and I had yet to find a chance to wear it.
A coral dress finished with a gauzy top layer embroidered with tiny cream flowers, it was more elegant than anything I would ever willingly choose myself, but I wanted Kitty to think of me as elegant.
While I treasured our clandestine meetings by candlelight, there was something horribly appealing in the idea of taking her breath away when she saw me.
A threadbare coat and an old chemise were not going to do that.
“Yes,” I said decisively. “That one, please. And will you do my hair? And just a little rouge, perhaps?”
“What would Mr. Darcy say about that?” Emma said with a laugh.
I was far more worried about what he would say if he knew for whom I was wearing it.
His affection for Elizabeth’s sisters seemed unlikely to hold up if he knew anything of the thoughts running through my head.
His affection for me was something I did not want to question, but all I could see was the thin line of his lips as we stood on the steps of Pemberley, watching the carriage that took Frances as far as Lambton before abandoning her to her fate.
“I will bear all responsibility,” I insisted. “You needn’t worry about getting in any kind of trouble with my brother. I will happily tell him I did it all alone, if that would make you more comfortable.”
“I’m only teasing you. I’d be glad to help. Perhaps we will see you prosperously settled soon enough.”
Kitty was certainly not the suitor she had in mind, but Emma’s words still filled me with warmth. The thought of Kitty left me more content than the notion of any other match ever had.
Emma stepped back to appraise her handiwork, frowning for a second before adding another hairpin to the elaborate style she’d arranged from my curls.
She still wasn’t satisfied, considering me again before riffling around in one of the drawers at my dressing table.
Triumphant, she pulled out a large feather, fluffy and soft pink.
“No,” I said with a laugh, needing to draw a line somewhere. “I am walking down the stairs of my own house, not being presented at court.”
“Don’t you have a man to impress?” Emma asked, running the feather under my jaw to tickle my neck.
Suppressing giggles, I pushed it away. I wanted to impress Kitty, but I did not want to become someone else entirely. Piles of feathers and gems were too much. I shook my head, making my decision clear, and breathed a sigh of relief when Emma returned the feather to its drawer.
“All right, if you’re against feathers, then I think you’re ready,” she declared grandly, reaching for the cloth she had hung over the mirror.