11. Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
Pemberley
“Y ou are going again! Please, Richard, you cannot leave me during Christmastide. Wait through Twelfth Night, I beg you, and then please take me with you!” Georgiana fell theatrically forward on the arm of her settee, her imploring blue eyes rounded and her little white hands clasped beneath her chin.
“Georgie,” he sighed, taking her hands and lowering them to a less pitiful posture. “I thought you wished to remain here at Pemberley. Did you not long to be home, far away from London and nearer to your happy memories? Think of your Christmas traditions, and boxing all the gifts, do you not relish that every year?”
“Oh, yes! But Richard, I cannot abide Aunt Catherine. I never found her so very overbearing before, but since she has come here, she behaves as if Pemberley were quite her own. I have not the courage to dissuade her!”
“I also have had little success in that regard,” he frowned, “save from ordering the keys to Fitzwilliam’s study to be ‘lost,’ for she wished to have his desk replaced with an old one from the attics. I fear she will still prevail in that matter, once she has satisfied herself in the library. She has proved rather trying, but surely, Georgie, she means well.”
“Richard, I hardly recognise my own home! She has ordered all the furniture rearranged, and demanded that Mr Jefferson examine the ledgers for discrepancies. She has even dismissed two of my favourite maids for what she deemed ‘slatternly behaviour’!”
“I spoke with Mrs Reynolds about that,” he assured her. “She has retained them, for the fault was not theirs. They will simply not be employed anywhere above stairs until our aunt takes her leave.”
“She will not do so,” Georgiana insisted. “Not unless I should go to my uncle’s house. Even if we open Darcy House in London, she will take up residence with me, for she says I need a better chaperon than ‘an ignorant old soldier.’”
“She is correct there,” he smirked ruefully. “Georgie, I do not know how long I shall have to be away. Surely you would prefer to remain in your own home, would you not? I go to London first, perhaps I may speak with my father about our aunt.”
“What do you mean to speak of me to my brother?”
Richard and Georgiana both froze, their eyes locked guiltily as they wondered how much their aunt had overheard. Lady Catherine herself breezed into the room, carrying an old leather volume. Richard unconsciously straightened his cravat and rose. “I thought to ask him to inquire after affairs at Rosings, Aunt. With you so long away, perhaps we may send my father’s man of business to Kent, to ascertain that all is well.”
She flicked her hand dismissively. “My steward has matters well in hand and requires no assistance from that useless fellow.”
Georgiana was standing by now as well, and both assumed postures of meekness before their noble relation. “Of course, Aunt Catherine,” Richard answered smartly, hoping his burning ears did not give away his little falsehood.
“Now, Fitzwilliam, there is a matter of great import we must discuss,” asserted she, holding aloft the leathern tome. “Were you aware that this monstrosity was kept and, indeed, accorded a place in Pemberley’s library?”
He glanced furtively at Georgiana, whose expression was as mystified as his. “I am not familiar with the book, Aunt. It appears to be a journal of sorts.”
“Journal! It is a shameful compilation of lies and fabrications! It purports to be an account by my aunt, Lady Georgina Darcy—mother to George Darcy, and therefore your great aunt by both blood and marriage. You must remember her, Fitzwilliam, for she outlived her husband by a number of years.”
“I do, Aunt. She was a powerful woman, as I recall, and even my own grandmother Lady Margaret held her in some awe.”
“ This— ” she tapped the journal in vexation, ignoring Richard’s reply— “cannot be her genuine hand! Lady Georgina would never intimate such disgraceful doings. I’ve a mind to order the volume burnt, but first it must be known to you both, so that should any rumour ever be repeated within this house, it may be instantly disavowed and its perpetrators dismissed at once!”
“Of course, Aunt. I shall see to the matter directly,” he answered—anything to appease her tirade!
“See that you do,” she threw back her head in some abatement of her outrage, then her eye fell upon Georgiana. “Where is your companion, Georgiana Darcy? It is not fitting that you should meet with your cousin without a chaperon until his engagement to Anne is publicly announced.”
Georgiana’s frightened gaze fell to the floor, after first darting a pleading look to Richard. “Mrs Annesley was not feeling well, Aunt,” she whispered. “The footman, O’Donnell, was called to assist her to her room.”
Lady Catherine’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Fitzwilliam, you must invite Anne to have her share in these conversations with your ward. Anne will, naturally, assume the guidance of Georgiana while you are away. While we are on the subject, I see no reason that two ladies’ companions ought to remain at Pemberley. One should do, for two seem only to stumble over one another. If you ask me, Mrs Annesley’s behaviour is by no means properly deferential, and she ought to be dismissed.”
Georgiana’s face bled to a pasty white as she raised horrified eyes once more to Richard. Her mouth opened and closed helplessly, too terrified to form an objection, but likewise too alarmed to allow the comment to pass.
“I think that would be premature, Aunt,” Richard interjected quickly. “I—that is to say, my mother has written to request Georgiana’s company in London when my father embarks upon a business tour he has planned. I had intended to escort her there—as well as Mrs Annesley, if she is better—when I come away tomorrow.”
Lady Catherine’s frosty brow hitched a fraction higher. “I had no word of this. I wonder that the Countess has not mentioned it to me.”
“I believe it was only a recent inspiration, Aunt. Father’s business came up rather suddenly, and she believes Georgiana’s company would be most welcome to her just now.” He chewed his inner lip nervously, hoping to avoid further questions on the subject.
She held him frozen in place another moment, pondering this new development. “Very well. We shall all adjourn to Darcy house. I shall send to have my trunks packed at once.”
Richard could feel Georgiana stiffening beside him. “No!” he reacted—a little too quickly. “Er… that is most kind of you, Aunt Catherine, but ought not Anne to retire to Kent? The Derbyshire winters are long and harsh for one of her constitution, and I fear that the London air would also not be agreeable to her health. With your blessing, Georgiana may ease my mother’s solitude while Father and I are away, and then… well, perhaps we shall return to Pemberley in time for the spring planting.”
The Lady’s mouth pursed carefully. “I applaud your care for Anne, Fitzwilliam. You are far more chivalrous than was your cousin! Very well, we shall return to Rosings as soon as the weather warms enough for Anne to travel. We shall plan to return directly after Eastertide to finalise arrangements for your marriage. Fitzwilliam, you shall find Anne in the Rose drawing room. She will wish to hear of your plans as soon as may be.”
She turned to go, after pointedly thrusting the nearly forgotten journal into his hands. He swallowed and cast a wide-eyed look of relief to Georgiana, but there was no time to rejoice, for Lady Catherine turned immediately back. “Fitzwilliam! While you are in London, be sure to see to the resignation of your commission. I expected that to have been done long ago! And you may as well purchase a license so that Anne may be spared the inconvenience of solemnising her marriage in Kent. Collins is a docile and serviceable rector, but by no means fashionable enough to preside over Anne’s wedding. I shall send word to the rector at St James’s.”
Richard coughed, tried to speak, and found himself unable. He coughed again, but managed a polite nod, tapping his chest all the while to signal his regret at his sudden indisposition. Lady Catherine apparently decided to accept his apologies, for she lifted her chin and withdrew.
“Richard!” Georgiana whispered in awe. “She is more horrifying than I ever knew!”
He exhaled—a growling, exasperated noise, and sank into the sofa. “She was being polite today.”
Georgiana shook her head, gazing after their departed aunt. “How did my brother ever bear it? As hard as she pressures you, Richard, she tried him as well, I am certain, and for many years!”
He shrugged. “Darcy always had an air about him which I never could understand, and never shall be able to adopt myself. She would attempt to rule him, but he never gave way.”
“I think he was the only person ever to defy her—well, save for your parents, for they are her equals.” Georgiana huddled her shoulders tensely, folding her hands into her lap as though their aunt’s wishes had been a strong gale, leaving her chilled by its passage.
Richard narrowed his eyes, a faint smile on his lips. “There was another, once.”
“And how did he manage? Perhaps if you cannot affect Fitzwilliam’s demeanour, you may apply this other’s strategy.”
“Oh! I think that should be more impossible for me than the first option. And it was not a ‘he,’ but a young lady of impertinent manners. She was able to laugh at our aunt’s rudeness and let the insults fall as water from a duck’s back. It was glorious, and I shall never again see the like! No, I do not think that I could attempt it myself.”
Georgiana sagged in disappointment. “So, we have no choice but for me to leave Pemberley for now?”
“I thought that was your desire.”
“No—well, I suppose. I do not wish to go back to London, but if I do, perhaps our aunt will leave Pemberley in peace. I may then hope that another return from Kent would be too great an undertaking for her, may I not?”
He snorted. “Do not depend upon it, but you are correct that it may bring everyone some respite. We leave in the morning, dearest, so ask your maids to be sure that your warmest things are packed. I do not know Mother’s plans, I hope she has no pressing engagements we shall disrupt with our arrival.”
“And where do you go, Richard? Is it army business, is that why you will not tell me?”
His brow creased and his frown deepened. “Not precisely. It is a rather personal matter.”
“Oh.” Chastised, she cast her eyes down to her folded hands.
“I did not mean that you may not ask, Georgie. It is no state secret! Only that I dare not reveal my errand until I have something to reveal. I will happily inform you once my questions are answered. I am sorry I cannot say more, but that will have to do for now.”
She sniffed a little, then nodded. “Yes, Richard.”
“Good girl.” He smiled, then chucked her chin, as he had used to do when they were much younger. “Then it is back to London with us.”