15. Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
R ichard spent the whole of that night afoot in various quarters of the city. Though he searched for word of Wickham, his objective had turned to Portugal. The link to Noronha had left him aghast and reeling. What possible connection might have existed between the Portuguese statesman and Darcy?
Noronha was a determined man, zealous for his nation and nearly fanatical regarding his family, but Richard could not yet accuse the man of malice against Darcy. Whatever his disagreements with the man, Richard knew him to be a gentleman. Violence was not his way, surely!
Yet, the coincidence of the same men being contracted for work by someone from Noronha’s ship was too strong for him to overlook. If Broderick had found nothing new within a few days, Richard saw little alternative but to embark for Portugal himself with his questions. How the devil was he to explain this to his relations, and what to do about Georgiana if he went away?
His mind was a riot when at last he entered his own door, late the following morning. He had intended to secrete himself quietly in his chambers for his batman’s attentions and a few short hours of rest, but it so happened that he had arrived on the heels of one of his mother’s morning callers. The door to the sitting room was ajar, and the strident greetings in a vaguely familiar voice echoed up the staircase to him. Georgiana’s muted reply sounded next, and he did not like the strained quality of her tones.
Retreating back down the steps, he moved quietly to the door to listen. Ah . He closed his eyes in a pained grimace. He knew that caller’s voice. His instincts screamed out in self-preservation, urging him back from the door as discreetly as possible, but to leave Georgiana to the mercy of one Caroline Bingley was a matter beyond his own interests.
“My lady,” crooned the visitor, “what ex quisite taste! I simply must know where you obtained this piece, for it has such an air of the East about it.”
Richard’s mouth pursed in disgust. And this the woman who had thought herself worthy of Darcy? She was vulgar as any scullery maid, yet she was so bold as to presume upon the Countess of Matlock and Georgiana Darcy! His mother made some blasé reply, an attempt to conceal her chagrin at her caller’s coarseness, but Caroline Bingley was not put off in the slightest.
“Naturally, your ladyship would have nothing less,” Caroline purred. “That is, of course, why I felt only Mr J—would do for a designer when I sought one to make over my new flat. Why, it is as I was saying to our dear Miss Darcy when last we were all in Derbyshire; a lady’s breeding is reflected in her surroundings.”
He strained his ears to catch Georgiana’s reply, but none was forthcoming. It did not take the work of a detective for him to understand that the time of which Miss Bingley spoke had, in all likelihood, been the last days Georgiana had spent with her brother. Had that ghastly woman shocked the poor girl into yet another grief-stricken silence? Concern and anger overpowered his manners, and without quite realising it, his feet carried him to the open door where he could observe her face.
It was Miss Bingley who noticed him first, even seated with her back partially turned to the door. She preened and arched her long neck round to look him full in the face. “Why, Colonel Fitzwilliam! I had not anticipated the pleasure.”
Lady Matlock was far too seasoned to permit her caller a glimpse of her disdain, but she graced her son with a stern glance of warning. Her lashes flickered darkly before she smiled and rose to greet him. “Richard! Heavens, my dear boy, but where have you been? You look positively dreadful.”
He bowed from the waist, scolded. “Forgive me for appearing so, Mother, I meant no interruption. I beg you will excuse me.”
Caroline Bingley had also risen to a curtsy, joined by her lady’s companion. “I am certain that the colonel must have many heavy burdens upon his mind. How good you are, sir, that even in the midst of your own concerns you devote yourself to comforting our dear Georgiana. I am assured, sir, that the poor girl would be quite at a loss without you.”
“My cousin is my highest concern,” he answered tightly, “but as you no doubt see for yourself, Miss Bingley, Miss Darcy is a sophisticated young lady, and not a child who wants cosseting. It has not been any goodness of my own, but my honour to attend her.”
“Spoken as a true gentleman,” Miss Bingley beamed smoothly. “I have long held that an officer, being a man of duty and courage, must naturally be also the epitome of grace and courtliness.”
Richard, exhausted and bleary-eyed after twenty-four hours on his feet, hesitated a moment before making reply. Was Miss Bingley flirting with him? Impossible! He shook himself inwardly and offered a bow in parting. “Indeed, Miss Bingley. I beg you would pardon my intrusion, I shall retire.”
“No pardon is necessary, I assure you. If I may be so bold, sir, I would extend my brother’s greeting. He always speaks so fondly of you, I know he will gratified indeed to hear that you are well.”
Richard stared, his stomach sinking in horror. She was flirting with him! He flitted a nervous glance to Georgiana, but he could not in all courtesy quit the room so readily after Miss Bingley’s little speech. “You are most kind, Miss Bingley. I trust Mr Bingley is well?”
“Oh! I suppose he is as well as he may be, after settling in such a backward county. I am very sorry for it—you know how well he enjoys the delights of Town, and I am afraid he shall come to regret his decision to settle in Hertfordshire.”
“I hardly think Hertfordshire backward! At any event, had he not intended to give up the lease of the estate and remove once more to London?”
The lady cast back her head in pitying resignation. “Alas, Colonel, he has determined to remain indefinitely! I expect that the close proximity to his wife’s relations has some influence on the matter, though I cannot fathom how he finds them agreeable.”
“Bingley married? I had not heard of this. I shall send my felicitations straightaway. May I inquire as to the name of his bride and her family?”
Caroline’s lip curled, very faintly. “I am certain the family could be of no interest, sir, but he has married the former Miss Bennet of Longbourn.”
This name brought the first signs of liveliness to Georgiana’s features, but Richard was more distracted by his own recollections. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet! Why yes, I believe I am acquainted with her. A remarkable young woman, to be sure. Bingley shall be well suited.” Even as he spoke his words of praise, something twisted deep within his gut. Though he had never been certain of it, that time in Kent had opened his eyes to the possibility that Darcy might, perhaps, harbour some strong feeling for a lady. That the lady had now married another echoed hollowly in his heart. Yet another silken thread to bygone days severed.
Caroline Bingley’s smile was now wooden, her eyes cold, as she sweetly corrected him. “Why no, colonel, I am afraid there are far too many Bennet ladies to account. My brother has wed the eldest, the former Miss Jane Bennet.”
A breath of relief flowed back into his lungs, followed instantly by humiliated shock. If Bingley had fancied Miss Elizabeth’s sister, so much so as to wed her almost immediately after Darcy’s disappearance, then some of his comments to Miss Elizabeth last April may have been exceedingly ill-judged! The matter had come aright, or so it appeared, but he must take that lesson to heart. Never would he forgive another officer for speaking so incautiously of matters military, but a sparkling smile and a fine pair of eyes—as Darcy had once described—had thoroughly loosed his tongue and undone his better sense.
Caroline was still smiling pertly, and his lack of response had grown awkward. His mother was pursing her lips in marked ennui, but Georgiana’s face had sparked to life for the first time in a long while. Her eyes warmed hesitantly toward him, but before she worked up the courage to speak, Miss Bingley had also noted her interest.
“Ah, Miss Darcy, you were acquainted with Miss Elizabeth Bennet as well, were you not? How clumsy of me to have forgotten that, but I recall now. She was traveling through Derbyshire last summer with her uncle—the one in trade, is that correct?”
Georgiana answered softly in the affirmative, and Richard turned to her in amazement. “You met Miss Elizabeth? I did not know of this!”
Georgiana’s shoulders were now heaving in laboured breaths, caught between joy and agony as she relived the memory. “Fitzwilliam introduced us. I liked her very much! I wish I could have come to know her better, but some family crisis called them away unexpectedly.”
The side of Miss Bingley’s mouth curved—a terrifying expression, to one who knew ladies well. “To be sure, it was a most unfortunate event which called them away. Happily, the family must have some connection which was able to avert the larger part of scandal—oh! but I beg your ladyship to forgive me for speaking so indelicately. Certainly, it is not proper discourse for a morning call.”
Caroline Bingley could have made no more damaging remarks in the eyes of the Countess of Matlock. To impute that Darcy had made known to his impressionable young sister a woman with a disgraced family instantly cast the whole of his guardianship into doubt. To be quite truthful, Lady Matlock was no more pleased by Caroline Bingley, with her veneer of elegance only barely covering the stink of her grandfather’s factories, but there was nothing overtly immoral about the woman. Richard watched his mother’s practiced cool settling over her face, and it seemed almost as if the hearth fire had dwindled all at once.
Caroline Bingley also noted the chill, and within minutes, she and her companion were bidding their polite adieux. She came to him to offer a curtsey, giving him her gloved hand so that he might bow gallantly over it. “Until we shall meet again, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I do hope it need not be so long between our visits in the future. May I presume that you will be attending some of the Season’s events?”
“If my duties permit, Miss Bingley.”
She batted her lashes and blushed prettily. “Such loyalty is to be admired! I bid you a good day, sir.”
The countess shook her head and sighed in exasperation after their departure. “These women from trade!” she lamented broadly. “No grace to their credit! A shameless flirt, that one, and growing desperate from what I hear. I believe she desires a voucher for Almack’s, but I would never court such humiliation as to lend that woman my own credibility!”
“You are not acquainted with Mr Bingley,” he covered smoothly. “Trade son or no, I believe you would find him most respectable, Mother. He was monstrous fond of Darcy, and the sentiment was returned in full.”
The countess arched a dry brow. “A friendship formed in school days must, in the end, yield to respectability. I only thank heaven that this Bingley fellow did not employ his intimacy with Darcy so far as to form designs upon Georgiana!”
Richard caught the fearful glance darted his way by his young cousin. “I think we need have no fear of that, Mother,” he smiled indulgently toward his charge. “Georgiana is far too wise to encourage such an interest from anyone unsuitable.”
“I should hope!” the countess sighed, albeit not without an affectionate glance of her own toward her niece. “Georgiana, dear, you look rather pale after that horrid Bingley woman’s visit. If you wish, you may retire while I receive other callers. Richard will see you to your apartment.”
Georgiana curtseyed in relief. “I thank you, Aunt.” She gave her arm to her elder cousin, but once in the outer corridor, he drew her aside and spoke softly.
“Georgie, you do look frightfully unsettled. I hope Miss Bingley has not put you in mind of more sorrowful days.”
She inhaled slowly, her pale lashes fluttering as a softness wavered upon her lips. “Her party were all staying at Pemberley when Fitzwilliam went away for that first business of his. He never told me what it was, but he returned for only a fortnight before going once again to London to see to its conclusion. The whole party came away then, though Fitzwilliam traveled on ahead of the rest of us. I think he must have arrived full two days before we.”
“So, the last time you saw your brother was in Miss Bingley’s company,” he summarised. “Dear Georgie, I am sorry that she came today to distress you further.”
She turned to him, a ray of sunshine at last glowing from her countenance. “It grieves me to think of those last days, but also brings me some peace.”
“The world has a way of marching on, does it not? I suppose Miss Bingley remains a tangible reminder of him for you.”
“Oh, heavens, no!” Georgiana shuddered. “I cannot think of Fitzwilliam and Miss Bingley in the same moment without dread, for she longed for him to make her an offer, you know. He never would, but she made everyone else miserable in her jealousy and disappointment. As a matter of fact—” here, she smiled, even seemed to giggle silently— “it was Miss Bingley’s mention of Miss Elizabeth Bennet which brought me some degree of pleasure. How envious she was of Fitzwilliam’s notice whenever Miss Bennet was about!”
“Is that so?” He mused intently for a moment. “Georgie, did you really like her so well as you claimed?”
“Oh, Richard, I adored her! I even cherished a hope that one day she might become my sister. Perhaps it was silly of me, but you know how cautious Fitzwilliam was. He never praised any woman in my hearing as he did her. He wrote to me of her from Hertfordshire over a year ago, and seemed so eager to introduce her to me when they were at Lambton. And how kind she was! I felt so at ease speaking with her, and she did set Miss Bingley down so neatly. There was no slight at which Miss Elizabeth could not laugh! I shall never forget how she defended me from an insult which had been meant for herself, but which struck me instead. I feel certain that Fitzwilliam was fond of her, for you ought to have seen the way he smiled at her after that!”
All during this soliloquy—the longest speech Georgiana had uttered in weeks—a crafty smile had grown on Richard’s face. “It was Miss Elizabeth who so deftly thwarted our aunt. Do you remember that I told you about that? It was last April, when Darcy and I were in Kent. She had come to stay with her friend Mrs Collins, wife to Lady Catherine’s rector. Well may you imagine that she found herself the subject of our aunt’s condescension. The very picture of class and grace was she as she serenely defied Lady Catherine’s wishes!”
Georgiana did giggle aloud now, daintily shielding her growing smile behind white fingertips. “I wish I could have seen it. Even enduring with my aunt’s demands would have been a small price to pay.”
He nodded slowly. “She made our annual pilgrimage far more bearable, I will vouch for that. I never knew your brother to delay our departure as he did—thrice! —and I agree with you that there was some regard there, on his part at least.”
A wistful sigh escaped the girl and she repeated, “I wish I had come to know her better.”
His eyes narrowed. “Georgie, I had meant to speak to you of this later, but I may as well do so now. My business may call me away for an extended time, and I shall have to leave you to the care of others.”
She drew a brave gasp. “Oh, Richard! Are you certain?”
“I am afraid so, Sweetling, but I have been sadly remiss in offering Mr and Mrs Bingley my congratulation on their marriage. I feel I ought to render my felicitations in person before I depart, and I’ve no doubt that Bingley will be only too pleased to receive me without ceremony. What would you say to an impromptu visit to Hertfordshire on the morrow?”
Longbourn
E lizabeth’s eyes were fastened, uncharacteristically, on the ground. It was not as if there might be some new vista she had never appreciated, nor some surprise alteration to her way. These paths had been her private retreat since childhood—a bower of dreams and adventures, a silken vale of girlhood fantasy known only to herself and Jane.
Jane’s future now lay elsewhere, and with her father’s edict, a shroud of finality had fallen for Elizabeth as well. This day, as her feet crunched heavily over the frozen ground, might well bear witness to the last of her carefree wanderings. She was to depart for London on the morrow, and with any luck, according to her mother, she would find a husband there and this would be her home no longer.
Yes, her mind cried out , carry me away! Away from Hertfordshire and all these memories! No longer must I feign happiness for Jane’s sake, nor affect strength for Lydia’s benefit. I cannot bear seeing William at each turn, hearing his voice on the wind, feeling his touch in my dreams, and seeing him draw ever farther away!
Ardently as her conscious thoughts might have embraced the notion, her heart dragged at her feet. Well did she recognise in herself the symptoms of disappointed love, for they were the same as Jane had so bravely attempted to conceal only a year ago. Yet, had not she even greater cause to mourn than Jane? She had been assured of love, had come to know with a certainty beyond any doubt that the man she adored remained constantly devoted. While Jane had nurtured the all but extinct hope for a reunion with the love of her heart, Elizabeth could never dream of more than brief, piercing encounters with those who had known him.
It was not the lack of interesting viewpoints along her path which had kept Elizabeth’s gaze still on the ground as she walked, nor was it the treacherous footing—pitted ruts and hoofprints, half frozen even in the afternoon hours. No, it was the steady trickle of salted tears dripping from her cheeks. If she walked with bowed head, they did not run in errant paths down her chin to dampen her collar and cause others to wonder at her emotional display.
One day, she attempted to reason with herself, she must concede the victory to Fate. The mysteries of the universe—God Himself, for all she knew—had seen fit to strike down a good man in the prime of his strength. If even Fitzwilliam Darcy, a man blessed in nearly every way, could not control his own fortunes, how much more could she exert her own will to arrange the future as she liked? She was quite powerless against the whims and forces at work, and one day, she must capitulate. She must marry another.
Her fingers twined together in an agonised knot within her muff, clutching tightly to her middle. That those hands would one day be given in service and tender caresses to a stranger! For strange he must be, as there was nothing left of her own ragged heart to draw intimately near to another. Her hands convulsed until the muscles ached and the delicate bones crushed one another with the force of her revulsion. She tried to breathe, but only a trembling shriek came from her indrawn breath as more tears spilled down her cheeks.
Elizabeth’s steps faltered and she stopped, still hugging her tormented agony close as she shivered her grief. Breathing became nearly an impossibility as a second, then a third breath were forcibly shortened by the shooting spasms in her chest. Helpless now to regain control, she gave herself over to piteous moans and shudders—there, in the middle of a public road, Elizabeth surrendered to the depths of her despair.
She had covered her face now, her hot tears seeping into her gloves and turning them ice cold over her cheeks. Oh, if Lydia could have seen, how her younger sister would tease her for the way her nose must run! Pinching off the rivulets of moisture from her eyes, she fought once more for calm.
She was still standing thus when, a moment later, her name echoed to her. Elizabeth raised her head to see her aunt Gardiner hurrying toward her, rosy and breathless with her exertions in the cold.
“Lizzy, how glad I am that I have found you! We feared you had gone on to Netherfield and we should have had to send for you.”
Elizabeth crossed her arms and shivered as her aunt approached. “No, Aunt, I have not gone far, but what is the trouble? Is Lydia unwell?”
“No, my dear, you have callers! They arrived a quarter of an hour ago, escorted by Jane and Mr Bingley. Such an enormous carriage naturally sent your mother into a state of agitation, and I tasked myself with searching you out ere you could wander farther.”
“Callers? But who could be calling on me?”
“It is Miss Georgiana Darcy, my dear, and her cousin the colonel.”
Elizabeth had started toward her aunt, but froze in her tracks. “Miss Darcy is here ? And Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
“That is the very gentleman. He seems most amiable, Lizzy. He says he made your acquaintance in Kent. It appears they were traveling from London, and wished to call at Netherfield in honour of the Bingleys’ marriage. It was decided there that they should all repair here at once, for Miss Darcy was keen to see you again and it was presumed that a formal introduction was no longer necessary.”
Elizabeth blinked, her mouth hanging open in astonishment. How could she face that dear girl, after owning the deep conviction that it was for her sake that Georgiana had lost her cherished brother?
“Lizzy, I declare, you look to have seen a ghost! Come now, it will not do for you to make your complexion ruddy with the cold while your callers await.”
“Oh, Aunt, they have not come to stay! Please God that they intend to travel on directly and are not lingering in the vicinity!”
“Lizzy, what manner of talk is this? I thought you were rather taken with the young lady, and surely she looks for a friend in you.”
“Aunt, do you not recall the circumstances of Mr Darcy’s death? Oh, you may not know it all, but how can Miss Darcy wish to see me after all that has happened?”
“Perhaps you may let the young lady speak for herself, Lizzy, rather than leaping to false conclusions. For my part, I thought she appeared hopeful, and only seemed distressed when given the news that you had gone out.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together, forcing air into her lungs and locking her fingers within her muff. “I shall come, Aunt, and I do wish to assure myself that she is well, after all.”
W hen Elizabeth entered the drawing room, the colonel’s red uniform immediately attracted her eye. He rose promptly and offered a deep bow of greeting, and it was then that Elizabeth found Miss Darcy’s gaze. The girl had been seated between Jane and her cousin, and she rose beside him to dip a charming curtsy in answer to Elizabeth’s.
The sight of Georgiana Darcy’s well-remembered face, softening at her arrival, uncoiled some of Elizabeth’s reserve. It was a joy to see her again, no matter the excruciating memories her sweet countenance recalled. Colonel Fitzwilliam, she found, was no less welcome for all the discomfort occasioned by their last visit in Kent. Bittersweet pangs struck her heart at his easy, hopeful expression, and her resolve was formed in an instant. She would be herself, Elizabeth Bennet once more for Darcy’s family, laughing and bantering and lending honeyed courage to a girl who desperately needed it. She owed them—owed him —that much.
“Miss Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam!” Elizabeth smiled warmly, taking Georgiana’s hands. “I bid you welcome to Hertfordshire. This is indeed a pleasant surprise!”
“Miss Elizabeth, I beg your pardon for calling without warning,” the colonel beamed in satisfaction. “I had it on good authority that you would not mind the imposition.”
“It is no imposition at all, Colonel. On the contrary, I am deeply honoured by your visit.”
“Excellent! The pleasure is ours, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth took in his warm smile before turning again to Georgiana. “I hope your travels have been comfortable, Miss Darcy. The roads from London can be trying at this time of the year.”
Georgiana brightened bashfully. “We have come not three days ago from Derbyshire, Miss Elizabeth, so I may assure you with all confidence that the road between here and London is no hardship.”
“You are a valiant traveler, then. I shouldn’t wonder, for what are twenty miles of road, good or bad, when friends await?” Elizabeth squeezed the girl’s hand impulsively before releasing her.
Georgiana verily blossomed in pleasure as she returned Elizabeth’s cheer, and even Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed relieved. Jane took the opportunity to remove to a seat beside Kitty—who was busily ogling the colonel’s brilliant regimentals—leaving the place beside Georgiana for Elizabeth. Lydia had not come below, likely out of discretion for her changing figure, but Elizabeth could not help but catch her mother’s whispers that this must be a friend of Mr Wickham’s, come to bring Lydia word from her husband, and Lydia must be sent for! Elizabeth darted a desperate silencing glance to her aunt, who was only partially successful at restraining Mrs Bennet’s effusions.
Elizabeth and Georgiana settled themselves on the sofa with the colonel while Mary performed the office of serving tea to their guests. Georgiana had fallen quiet once more, her round blue eyes flitting nervously about the room. Had Wickham’s name reached her ears so soon? Elizabeth glanced to the colonel, who betrayed no symptoms of tension. Only deferential concern for his young cousin seemed to line his face. Elizabeth drew a breath, wavering between forced cheer and gentle honesty. The latter won out.
“Miss Darcy,” she murmured hesitantly, once the tea had been poured and she could lean confidentially close. “I was deeply grieved to hear of your loss. You must be weary of condolences by this time, but I humbly offer mine, nonetheless. Your brother was a good man.”
Georgiana’s fingers tightened upon her teacup and she stared at it, swallowing hard, before she met Elizabeth’s eyes. “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. You are correct that I have heard those words from many, but I think never with such sincerity.”
Elizabeth lifted her gaze to meet Colonel Fitzwilliam’s steady look. He, too, had inclined his head near to catch Georgiana’s whispered reply, and the crinkling round his kindly eyes conveyed his gratitude for her care. Elizabeth drew a long breath. She had meant it all—every word and more—but she felt herself an impostor. Had not she once aspired to the world, longing for the right to one day call this very girl her sister, and in the end costing that same girl everything she had held dear?
“I fear the sentiment can become a rather meaningless one,” Elizabeth answered softly. “Many express their regrets, but most know not how to speak comfort into the face of grief, if they do not also share in it.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened and her lips parted in amazement, but she quickly lifted her cup to conceal her speechlessness. It was the colonel who made reply.
“I am afraid, Miss Bennet, that my dear cousin has too long been shut away with only her dreary relations,” he gestured self-deprecatingly to his own person. “Certain matters have dominated all the conversations in our family circle, and fresh topics and faces have become all the more dear. You must imagine her delight when we heard that our friend Mr Bingley had wed your sister, and that Longbourn was a mere half-day’s journey from London. We are most grateful that you are not put out by our unexpected visit.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I am pleased that you came, sir, and pray do not apologise further. It is no trouble, but a delight to receive such agreeable company.”
Fitzwilliam chuckled his agreement, then his gaze went to Mr Bingley, standing near the hearth. “Well, Bingley, I think my cousin would prefer to renew her acquaintance with Miss Bennet without the benefit of a dour old bear looking over her shoulder. She has seen quite enough of me of late! Shall we leave the ladies to their refreshments? I am craving an introduction to Mr Bennet and Mr Gardiner, if I may presume so far.”
“You will find them in the library, Colonel,” Mrs Bennet preened, fluttering her fan in that direction before shielding her face with it to exchange significant glances with Elizabeth. Elizabeth suppressed an audible groan. Had her mother already assumed that the colonel had come on her account, and was eagerly awaiting an opportunity to speak with her father? If so, her mother knew precious little of the man’s expectations beyond that he was the son of an earl! A second son.
The gentlemen retired, and with them they took the tense calm which had permeated the drawing room full of females. The door had scarcely closed when cheerful uproar burst forth, with Kitty claiming the now vacant seat to Georgiana’s left and Mrs Bennet assailing them all with her admiration of Miss Darcy’s lace.
Georgiana absorbed the Bennet merriment with shy reserve, casting hesitant glances now and again to Elizabeth and to Jane, in whose company she had found herself instantly at ease. At length, when Mrs Bennet had exhausted her admiration for Georgiana’s sense of fashion, Mrs Gardiner quietly noted to her sister that Mr Gardiner had just developed a new trade interest, and that he had recently obtained a deal of satin—not quite so dear, but nearly as lovely as that worn by Miss Darcy. This won Mrs Bennet’s praise, and soon that worthy lady was drawn in thoroughly by wise Mrs Gardiner’s sensible observations.
Elizabeth tactfully questioned Georgiana about the Derbyshire winter, contrasting it gaily to the less bitter, but equally dreary days experienced by Hertfordshire. Georgiana responded amiably enough, but her eyes had begun to stray toward the instrument in the corner. It was safe and peaceful to her there, Elizabeth assumed, a thing which could not be said of any other part of Longbourn’ s drawing room.
“Snow and freezing temperatures since October!” Kitty was lamenting from Georgiana’s left. “Lizzy, you could never take your long walks in such a clime. I think our aunt’s old home of Lambton is near there, is that not right, Lizzy? Would it be near enough to walk, Miss Darcy? Surely it would be a jolly village for a regiment to be stationed.”
“There have been no regiments quartered there in my memory, Miss Catherine,” was Georgiana’s prim, yet bashful response. “As for walking, Pemberley is far too large to travel its borders on foot.”
“I was told once,” Elizabeth’s face softened in sentimental humour, “that a young lady must take care to improve her horsemanship for that very reason. It is a useful skill for a mistress.”
Georgiana’s eyes rose sharply. “That is precisely what Fitzwilliam used to tell me when I was learning to ride,” she answered in a low voice. “I never knew how true his words would prove!”
“He wished to secure your future,” Elizabeth answered. “I believe he did all he could to protect and prepare you.”
Georgiana’s knuckles whitened again on her cup. “I only wish it had not been necessary!” she whispered.
If Kitty had looked for a merry companion of her own age in the fashionable Miss Darcy, she was quickly disappointed. It was clear even to her that their young guest was on the verge of tears as she spoke of her departed brother with such mysterious candour, and equally clear that those words were meant for Elizabeth and not herself. Her expression crumpling in petulant dismay, Kitty began attending Jane and Mary’s conversation about the latter’s growing list of accomplishments. Soon after, she leapt at the opportunity to fetch Mary’s needlework basket to display her newest embroidery knot.
Elizabeth breathed in sweet relief when Kitty left them. Georgiana’s eyes had again retreated to the quiet corner where the pianoforte stood. “Do you still find much opportunity to play?” Elizabeth asked gently.
Caught in her defensive distraction, Georgiana turned quickly back. “Not so much as I should wish. I have been occupied in other things.”
“I must imagine so,” Elizabeth agreed. “But is not music a perfect method to reflect and to lift the spirits?”
“It would be,” Georgiana sighed, “but I cannot touch my instruments without remembering how proud Fitzwilliam was to give them to me. He gave me the piano at Pemberley for my last birthday, did I ever tell you that?”
“You did. It is a beautiful instrument, and I know he intended for you to grace it with your talents.”
Georgiana’s face fell. “I was trying to believe the same, do you know. I had begun to play once more—not only my piano, but my new harp. Oh, that one hurt the most! Just before Christmas it was delivered, while Richard was away on business. I had not the heart to tell him about it when he returned. Fitzwilliam had commissioned it months ago, to replace my mother’s old harp that was in disrepair. He must have meant it as a surprise, and I cried so when I knew I could never thank him for it! Yet, I was so eager to learn to play it, but my cousin Miss de Bourgh found it irreverent. I thought perhaps I was wrong to be finding joy in the gifts he had given me, so I ceased.”
“Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth took her hand, “as my acquaintance with Mr Darcy was short, I cannot declare that I knew him well, but I can assure you that he would not have countenanced others imposing feelings of guilt or regret upon you. He wished to see you happy, more than anything else, and I have seen some proof of the measures to which he would have gone to ensure that.”
Georgiana’s expression broke wistfully. “He was so good to me! Richard knows all of this, and there is much I cannot tell anyone else, but…” her brow creased and she squeezed Elizabeth’s hand with sudden fervour. “Miss Elizabeth, you would not mind if I shared some of my more cherished memories with you? I have no one else who would care to listen, to whom they are not already known.”
Elizabeth threaded the fingers of her other hand over Georgiana’s. “I would be honoured, Miss Darcy.”