Chapter Fifteen
Darcy
A new influx of gown designs had been Georgiana's immediate preoccupation since her arrival in London weeks ago.
As Darcy had come to understand, the interest was not completely due to vanity.
It was the learned adaptiveness of a young woman navigating the ton, where fashion moved faster than the effort warranted.
"My friend Diana says the new style of sleeves is already different from last year," she said as the carriage sped along the street. "The long ones with the ruffles at the wrist are becoming unfashionable. But the term she used was ‘superseded’, which is apparently a distinction."
"An important one?"
"In certain circles, yes." Georgiana's expression conveyed that she was not one who considered herself part of those circles, but that her presence in London required her to be adjacent to them.
"I should like to have clothes I will not regret by April.
Diana says Madame Voclaire is the only one who actually knows what the next fashionable item will be, rather than simply stocking the current thing. "
He listened to the rest of her observations with the thorough attention he made sure to give to his sister when she chose to share her reflections.
She was having an easier time in London than in previous years, and he attributed this partly to the company of the Garroway girls, who were of similar ages and sufficiently boisterous to make reserve difficult to maintain.
She laughed more in their company than he had heard her laugh in a while.
"Charity says," Georgiana began, which was how a considerable portion of her sentences opened since meeting the Garroway girls, "that Miss Bennet told them the most useful thing about entering a room."
"What did she tell them?"
"That the purpose of entering a room is not to be seen, but to see. If a lady walks in thinking about her appearance, she appears nervous and that isn’t often a welcoming sight.
But if she walks in thinking about the room itself, such as who is there and what is happening, then she appears to be someone worth speaking to.
I have tried this advice out myself and I believe she is right. "
"That sounds correct," Darcy said.
"You say it as though you already knew."
"I arrived at a similar conclusion some years ago, but it is more useful to hear it stated clearly." He paused. "She expressed it well."
She regarded him from the corner of her vision, a habit she had developed from childhood. It was a way of observing him without provoking the kind of notice that would cause him to conceal what he was feeling or thinking. Then: "Do you not dislike her?"
"What makes you ask that?"
"At the theatre, you seemed…not quite at ease. When you were introduced."
He considered it. "We had a conversation at the theatre that I found rather pleasant. That would not have occurred if I disliked her."
"No, I suppose not."
She returned to the question of what gowns to acquire, and whether a shade of blue matched her skin or it was better to go for something more definitively grey. Darcy made appropriate responses but was not, in the most clear sense, attentive.
He had been considering a certain truth at length with some reluctance, preferring instead for his conclusions to arrive in orderly sequence rather than ambushing him in carriages.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet was not an easy person to set aside.
He had been sure, at least for some time, that he had succeeded in that task.
After all, having reviewed the situation, the conclusion was that the interest he had in her was a misattribution of novelty.
But that opinion had changed gradually, demanding re-examination.
She occupied his musings with a regularity that no explanation could account for. It was dissimilar to the recurrence of an unfinished task and more alert, more active.
If he was being specific about it, it seemed more like interest.
Throughout his life, he had come to know many sharp-witted women. For most, sharpness was often a kind of defence, a weapon held between themselves and the world, useful for keeping things at bay in place of engaging with them.
Elizabeth's intelligence was not a defence. It was an instrument of engagement, directed at subjects rather than away from them. She received information, deliberated upon it, and the effect of that, when she spoke, was that she spoke with immense clarity.
At the theatre, she had supported a point he disagreed with, and by the end of the exchange he had found himself revising his view because she had given him a more accurate account of what the reality was.
This frequency with which she appeared in his thoughts, after every encounter, was reliable evidence of this trait.
He was still thinking about this as the carriage arrived at Madame Voclaire's.
Madame Voclaire's establishment occupied a spacious corner of the Anioch Street that belied the seriousness of what it contained.
The outside offered a discreet signboard and a gown in the window, displayed solely, as if there was no need of extra advertisement.
The inside revealed the details that the window items only implied: an absolute silence in which one could hear the sounds of footsteps on carpet and view bolts of fabric that were not available elsewhere in London.
The senior assistant, Mrs Duroc, welcomed Georgiana into the dressing areas with a degree of attention that communicated both her own importance and the significance of the client without either being overstated.
Darcy waited in the outer room. There was a side table with a vase of hothouse flowers and a view of the street through a narrow window was adequate to occupy a man whose thoughts were already occupied.
He had managed several minutes of solemn contemplation when a distinct woman emerged from the dressing areas.
Mrs Lavinia Bingley was evidently concluding her own visit with the establishment. She was in the act of adjusting her gloves when she spotted him, and the recognition resulted in her usual smooth smile.
"Mr Darcy. What a fortunate coincidence. I was hoping to have the opportunity of a brief word."
He inclined his head. "Very well."
"I shall not speak for a protracted period, as I know your time is valuable.
" She did not lower her voice. She did not need to; the room had only the two of them in it, and the assistant who had accompanied had withdrawn with the discretion of the well-trained.
"I have come into possession of some intelligence that I believe you will find relevant, as a friend of Charles's and a man of good sense.
You would naturally wish his domestic happiness to rest on a secure foundation. "
"I would, indeed."
"Mrs Bennet confided to me, in the course of a conversation that I think she believed private, that the third daughter of the Bennet family, Mary, was not born to the family. She was taken in as an infant. There is no blood connection to the Bennets whatsoever."
Darcy offered no commentary. She did not seem to take offence at this and continued speaking.
"I raise it only because a man of Mr Thwaite's standing might reasonably feel that a lineage with this uncertainty attached was not what he had understood himself to be marrying into.
His mother is well-connected in ways that make lineage a matter of some consequence.
A man in his position, courting a girl of uncertain origin, deserves to understand what he is building before it becomes contractual.
" She nodded as if in advance approval of her next statements.
"The relevant people in his circle will need to be made aware and I intend to ensure they are.
I mention it to you because given your own family's grand standing and your own understanding of what such matters mean in certain circles—you might share the view that this is information worth circulating. "
Darcy looked at her for a long moment. Wheels turned in his head as he restrained himself, deciding the proper way to express the extent of disapproval and disgust he felt.
"What you are planning is the spread of information received in private confidence, obtained from a woman who trusted you and used as a weapon against a family that has done you no injury.
All for the purpose of advancing your daughter's prospects.
And I imagine, separating your son from a woman he cares for.
Although I must say, I do not think that Charles would easily be swayed from courting Miss Bennet.
You are asking me to assist in this. And you have assumed that I will agree, merely because I come from a family of consequence.
Like several upper-class individuals, I may have opinions about appropriate manners and how individuals ought to conduct themselves, but I would never approve of this level of malicious misconduct. "
Mrs Bingley held his gaze without apparent discomfort. "You have always been a man who understands the importance of certain decisions."
"I do not approve, nor do I share your reasoning in this.
" He kept his voice level, because anger was a trait he preferred not to show.
"What you are describing as though it is a topic of disgrace, is, in practice, a child who was given a home and raised by people who loved her, and who has done nothing to deserve what you intend.
Gossip deployed as a strategic instrument against people who cannot easily defend themselves is deplorable.
If the ton were just and true, the only conduct in this affair that would merit true censure, Mrs Bingley, isn't Mary Bennet's origins. It would be how you had connived to hurt and ruin a young lady’s life. "
A flicker of emotion crossed her face. Not shame but a recalibration, the adjustment of a woman who had received a different response than she anticipated.
"I had only assumed…" she tried to say.
"You thought that I would be a willing associate in this. You were mistaken. Have a good day."
She held his gaze for one moment longer than was comfortable for either of them, and then she left.
It was obvious beyond argument that she had miscalculated, yet would not concede it publicly.
She had been wrong about him, and she would not make the same assessment error twice.
In addition, she was likely revising her plans as she went through the door.
Darcy stood at the window and watched her carriage depart.
Next came a clarity of thought regarding what Mrs Bingley had said and how she was going to carry out her plan. She had come to him first, having assessed him as likely to share her views and perhaps even proffer encouragement.
By the next day, if she was expeditious, the information would be in circulation.
The unfortunate victim, Mary Bennet did not know this was coming. Neither, as a matter of fact, did Elizabeth Bennet and the rest of the family.
The more he deliberated about Mary Bennet, whom he had come to know as serious and self-contained, the more he felt an influx of pity.
What would this scandal cost her once it was released?
And what would it mean for Mr Thwaite, her suitor?
Moreover, a great deal could occur once the news entered the circulation of the people whose opinions structured the season.
He was certain such a disclosure would largely affect Mrs Bennet, who had apparently trusted the same person who had set out to gather such details for precisely this purpose.
Then there was Bingley, whose feeling for Jane Bennet was pure and whose mother was now deploying that fact as a lesser variable in her own calculations.
And he thought about Elizabeth, whose protectiveness of her family was obvious. It seemed unfair that all those attempts were now rendered useless due to the premeditated use of a secret her mother had divulged in an unguarded moment.
Whatever ingenious construction Elizabeth had maintained to keep the family respectable and in contention, Mrs Bingley was about to attempt to dismantle it.
He was not going to permit that to happen without giving them the opportunity to prepare.
Georgiana emerged shortly, excited about the new gowns she had been fitted for and prepared to discuss them at some length.
She spoke of her experience in the dressing areas as they left the dressmaker’s. He agreed that the purple hat she'd also purchased was the correct choice, and that he had paid what was asked because the pricing was excellent.
In the carriage, he gave the driver two addresses. Georgiana looked at him upon hearing the second one.
"Portman Square?"
"I have a call to make." He kept his eyes on the street. "It will not take long."
She did not ask further. He was grateful for it and used the remaining minutes of the journey to assemble what he intended to say.
Not a speech, nothing so formal; simply the facts, in the order that would be most useful, with enough clarity for them to act on before Mrs Bingley's version arrived through other channels.
It was not going to be a comfortable errand. He did not suppose Elizabeth would receive it easily.
But she would receive it honestly, and she would do what was necessary.