Chapter 6
A LONG-AWAITED INTRODUCTION
T he first of Darcy’s guests arrived as he was still eating breakfast. He did not need to look out of the window to know whose carriage he could hear rolling up the drive.
He knew Miss Bingley would have obliged her brother to leave Derby unreasonably early to ensure they were here before all the others and able, therefore, to boast a greater intimacy with the family.
He only hoped her desire to ingratiate herself had extended so far as to invite Georgiana to travel with her.
“Alas, no, Mr Darcy. Miss Darcy preferred to travel with Miss Ada today.”
“I do not believe she will be far behind us,” Bingley said, stepping around his sister and reaching to shake Darcy’s hand. “Most of the party were up and about by the time Caroline and I left. Except Pettigrew and Sedrick. I should not expect them until later if I were you.”
“Late night, was it?”
“I left them to it at one. And I should have gone to bed a darned sight earlier had I known I was to be dragged from my pit at such an ungodly hour.”
Miss Bingley tutted. “Somebody had to leave first, Charles, and it might as well have been us. We should have been waiting there all day if ours had not been the first carriage out of the stables.”
“I ought to have made Louisa travel with you and come at a more reasonable hour in Hurst’s carriage.”
Darcy noticed his housekeeper hovering nearby, waiting for the Bingleys to cease squabbling, and indicated that she should come forward.
“Thank you, sir. If I might just acquaint Mr and Miss Bingley with the alteration to their usual rooms?”
An increasingly familiar sinking feeling weighed in Darcy’s stomach at the reminder of the threat that now loomed over Pemberley.
Bingley’s eyes widened as Mrs Reynolds explained that the east wing was off limits to all guests.
Miss Bingley was more concerned with how much wardrobe space she would have in her new room, and, to Darcy’s relief, the housekeeper offered to take her there to inspect it.
“Upon my word, that sounds serious,” Bingley said when they were gone.
“It is precautionary only. I do not yet know the cause or the extent of the problem.”
“What is the problem?”
“A crack in the stonework.”
Bingley made a face that betrayed his ignorance as to the significance of such a defect even before he breezily remarked that he was certain it would all turn out for the best.
Not for the first time, Darcy considered how uncomplicated his friend’s existence must be with no greater accountability than to ensure his sisters did not outspend their inheritance before they married. “How far behind did you say you thought Georgiana might be?”
“Not more than half an hour, I should think.”
It was closer to three hours, by which point Darcy was seething with impatience.
In that time, he welcomed Aldridge, the Hursts, and even the Coxes, despite Cox’s wife being a notoriously late riser.
Templeton and his eldest sister arrived without either their younger sister, Miss Ada, or Georgiana in their carriage.
“Ada is travelling with Miss Darcy and Mrs Annesley in your carriage,” Miss Templeton explained, with her brother adding, “They were fussing over clashing bonnets when we left.”
Garroway came next with his wife and sister, receiving the same information from Mrs Reynolds about bedrooms that Bingley had and requiring Darcy to repeat his disagreeable account of the damage to the east wall.
Even Pettigrew and his brother, Sedrick, staggered biliously over the threshold before Georgiana made an appearance.
When, finally, one of the footmen informed him that his sister had arrived and gone directly to the breakfast room, his insides jumped with anticipation so great, it was an effort to maintain his composure.
He left those of his guests who had gathered in the saloon and made his way to see her.
She was dining with her travelling companions, both of whom he met with forced civility, making all the requisite enquiries as to their journey and good health as he waited for them to be done.
The looks passing around the table gave him cause to suspect he was not disguising his impatience well, but it could not be helped. No sooner had Georgiana laid down her knife and fork than he begged her companions to spare her and held out his hand to pull her to her feet.
“Come with me,” he whispered as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her away from the others to somewhere they might talk privately.
“Is something the matter?” she whispered.
“Yes, you are late.”
“Am I? Forgive me. Ada and I—”
Darcy waved away her apology and pulled her up the stairs, unable to keep from smiling.
“Is the problem Mr Ferguson wanted to talk to you about less serious than you thought, then?”
“It is too early to tell. What made you ask that?”
“You seem far less troubled today than when you left Derby yesterday.”
His smile broadened. They reached the top of the stairs, and he nudged her into the nearest room, pulling the door closed behind them. “I have something to tell—” It was his turn to be silenced.
“Oh, Fitzwilliam! It is beautiful!”
“What is?”
“This room! Did you do this for me?”
He became aware, belatedly, that he had brought her to the Chesterfield room, which he had, indeed, had fitted up for her pleasure. He wished he had taken her somewhere else, for the further delay was excruciating. “I did, and I am pleased you like it, but—”
“Oh, I do! This wallpaper is exquisite! And these sofas—they are not the same, are they? Or are they? They look so different now the room is lighter!”
“I had them reupholstered. Georgiana, please—”
“Is this mother’s writing desk?”
“Yes. Would you—”
“How well it looks in here! And this chair is the perfect match—Oh, Fitzwilliam, you do spoil me! I do not think I shall ever want to leave this room again.”
“I hope you will, for I should like you to come to Lambton with me.”
“Lambton? When?”
“Now.”
At last, Georgiana ceased dashing about the room and looked at him. “But I have only just got home.”
“I know, but there is somebody there I should like to introduce you to.” He took a deep breath. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is staying at the Plough and Horseshoe.”
The room instantly lost all its appeal, and he became the sole focus of his sister’s attention. “I thought you said it was unlikely that I should ever meet her.”
“She is visiting the area with her relations. We happened across each other on my return yesterday.”
“Then of course! I should dearly love to make her acquaintance. Only…”
“What?”
She began twisting her fingertips together as she always did when she was nervous.
“Are you sure she will welcome it? I do not know the exact nature of your parting, but I hope you will pardon me for saying that it seemed rather final. I should not like to obtrude on Miss Bennet’s notice if there were any chance that she would resent my doing so. ”
Darcy knew not whether to grimace or triumph.
That his sister had guessed the acrimonious end to his relationship with Elizabeth was unfortunate, yet he savoured the thrill of being able to reply that she had already agreed to the introduction.
Georgiana’s sweet smile gave him even more cause to rejoice.
He knew he had disappointed her when his letters from Rosings abruptly altered from promises of a dear new friend to the curtailment of any such hope.
“Then we absolutely must go,” she said gently.
“I confess, I am relieved. You made her sound so kind and so sensible that I feared someone at Rosings must have offended her somehow to induce such a sudden change of heart. Cousin Fitzwilliam perhaps—he can be a little careless when he is in a sportive humour—or our aunt more likely.”
No. Neither of them.
Darcy absorbed the sting of her unintentional indictment in silence.
It was nothing for which he had not already berated himself a thousand times, and sting it should, but Georgiana was wrong on one count.
Elizabeth had not had a change of heart in Kent, sudden or otherwise.
He had only mistaken—nay, neglected to even consider—what her feelings were.
If she had undergone any change of heart, it was since then.
For the Elizabeth he left in Kent would never have consented to this meeting.
A spike of alarm cut through his urgency.
Had he mistaken her again? Had it been naught but civility that made her agree to the introduction?
Evidently mortified to be caught at his house, perhaps she had felt obliged to consent and was now dreading his visit.
He despised not knowing. He was used to being master of all he surveyed, the answer to every quandary if not in his grasp, then within his power to discover.
Uncertainty and indecision were anathema to him.
That was the problem with Elizabeth. He always felt utterly out of control around her, with no idea what she would make him feel or do or say.
It terrified him, but by God he felt exhilarated by it—enlivened in a way he had never known possible until he met her.
“That was careless of me, Fitzwilliam, I apologise. I did not mean to give you any alarm. I am sure nobody insulted her.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Miss Bennet is more than capable of prevailing against anyone’s insults, I assure you. Now, do you wish to change first, or shall we leave directly?”
“Leave? Where are you going?”
Darcy cursed privately to see Bingley saunter into the room. He had no wish to share this introduction with anybody, least of all the man he had gone to such lengths to separate from Elizabeth’s sister. A more manifest reminder of the foundation for her antipathy he could not imagine.
“Lambton. To see Miss Bennet,” Georgiana answered before he could prevent her.
Bingley’s ears pricked like a bloodhound’s. “Miss Bennet is in Lambton?”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet, yes,” Darcy said carefully. “She is travelling with her aunt and uncle. We bumped into each other yesterday and agreed that I would bring Georgiana to meet her.”
Bingley’s disappointment was plain to see, though, in his inimitable fashion, he soon found another way to be cheerful about it.
“What a turn up! It has been far too long since I saw any of my friends from Hertfordshire, and she will have all the news we could hope for. I wish you had said sooner, Darcy, I should not have bothered changing. If you will wait for me to get my boots back on, I shall come with you.”
There was nothing for it; Darcy could not refuse.
So be it, but he was determined to give his sister her moment first. “You will have to make your own way there, for I mean to take Georgiana in the curricle. Miss Bennet is staying at the Plough and Horseshoe.” He did not give Bingley time to object and ushered Georgiana out of the room, down the servants’ stair, and out through a side door to avoid detection by anyone else who might waylay them.