Chapter 18 #2
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes nearly bulged from her head. “Did you hear that, Lizzy?”
Before she could say anything else, Elizabeth clutched Mr. Darcy’s arm a little too tightly and spoke. “Forgive me, Mr. Darcy, but might we call for some tea? I’m suddenly very thirsty.”
He nodded at her silently and rose to pull the bell and pretended not to hear Mrs. Bennet whispering loudly to her daughters about what a boon it would be to have peers in the family.
Jane tried to shush her to no avail and Mrs. Bennet continued on, ignoring the red face and downcast eyes of Georgiana, until Mr. Darcy finished speaking with a servant and sat back down.
“How often are you in town, Mr. Darcy? Surely you spend the season here,” Mrs. Bennet continued in a loud, cloying voice.
“I spend a part of the season each year here, yes, but not all,” he replied.
Jane knew the next step in her mother’s conversation would be to suggest that he host her sisters or possibly the entire family next season and being the sweet, generous person she was, she threw herself on the pyre to save her sister the same fate.
“Have you seen Mr. Bingley this season?” she asked innocently.
“Yes, I saw him just yesterday, as a matter of fact. He is considering a trip north to visit relations.”
Mrs. Bennet was instantly on the scent of a new suitor and Elizabeth mouthed a silent thank you to her sister.
Tea arrived shortly and a very nervous Miss Darcy poured for her guests.
“Two sugars, please,” said Mrs. Bennet.
Elizabeth thought the ability to request tea in a shrill voice must be a natural talent.
Miss Darcy was so nervous the cup nearly shook in her hand, prompting Mrs. Bennet to say, “Oh, Miss Darcy! Do not worry, we shall all be family soon.”
She gave the girl an exaggerated wink and Elizabeth didn’t know whether to be embarrassed that she had pointed out the girl’s anxiety or happy that her mother was attempting to show this poor orphaned child kindness in her own mortifying way.
“The first time my Lizzy served tea, she spilled an entire cup on Mrs. Goulding’s lap!” Mrs. Bennet tittered and Georgiana looked at her lap, her cheeks ablaze. “These are the most beautiful cakes! Do you have a French chef, Mr. Darcy? Of course you must, you can afford it!”
“Actually, I—” Darcy was interrupted by Mrs. Bennet again.
“Do you have an orangery, Mr. Darcy? If you do not, I must suggest you build one.”
“There is an orangery at Pemberley,” he said gravely, his expression blank.
“Mr. Darcy, did you not say there was a painting of Pemberley you wanted me to see? Might you show it to me now?” asked Elizabeth, her voice a little higher than usual.
“Of course. Come with me, please,” said Darcy.
Georgiana had not spoken more than a dozen words and excused herself to her rooms when the tour began. Mrs. Bennet didn’t seem to notice.
Darcy conducted the tour himself. Elizabeth suspected he didn’t want the servants to see Mrs. Bennet and spread rumors, or even to know he was willingly marrying into such a family.
Or perhaps he wanted to spare Elizabeth additional mortification.
Regardless of the reason, he was patience itself and while she did see his upper lip curling in distaste more than once, he was unfailingly polite to her mother.
She could not blame him for not being exactly friendly; she was nearly ready to do her mother bodily harm herself and she loved the woman!
Mr. Darcy could not be expected to have the same affection for her or to have built up the same level of tolerance for her behavior.
The house was beautiful and Elizabeth had an overall impression of elegance and simplicity, but she was so embarrassed and vexed with her mother that she didn’t register half of what she was seeing.
By the time the tour was over, she was so tired she just wanted to go home.
She pleaded a headache and begged Mr. Darcy to call the carriage and tell the maids she would interview them another time.
He did as she asked and walked the ladies out to the carriage. He handed Elizabeth in last and stopped her briefly before she stepped in.
“Are you well?” he asked quietly.
“I will be,” she whispered. “Thank you for your patience today, Fitzwilliam. I will not forget it.”
He pressed her hand and with another long look, she was gone.
As soon as they returned to Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth and Jane went upstairs to their room where Elizabeth promptly removed her dress and fell across the bed, hot tears of humiliation running over her cheeks.
“Oh, Jane, please tell me I am imagining things and that she wasn’t as dreadful as I thought she was.”
“Mr. Darcy was very patient,” she answered.
“Oh!” Elizabeth pulled a pillow over her head. “Oh, Jane, if a person could die of mortification, you would be laying me out as we speak.”
“Lizzy! Do not joke about such things!” Jane reprimanded.
She sat up on the bed. “I’m sorry, dear. I’m just so embarrassed! I didn’t know my cheeks could burn so much.” She pressed her hands to her face.
“I know. I’m sure I resembled a ripe apple for much of the afternoon,” Jane agreed.
Elizabeth laughed sadly at such a statement coming from her sister. “Jane, I think you must keep mama far away from Mr. Walker and his family. Mr. Bingley has already met her, but surely keeping distance there as well would be advisable.”
“As much as I hate to say such a thing about a parent, I think you are correct.”
Before they could finish their conversation, a note arrived for Elizabeth.
Dearest,
Would you consider spending Sunday afternoon with Georgiana and me? You didn’t have a chance to speak much and she would dearly like to get to know you. Miss Bennet is welcome, of course. Please come, my love.
I eagerly await your reply.
F.D.
Elizabeth quickly dashed off a reply and sent it with the waiting servant.
“Jane, we shall be free tomorrow!”