Chapter Twenty-Four
Georgiana worried a good deal about how to dress for the dinner at Longbourn.
She did not want to be too fancy, but nor did she want to appear as if she had not thought the dinner important enough to dress up for.
Who were these Bennets? Were there young gentlemen there?
Finally, she decided to ask Mrs. Hammond what she knew of them.
“The Bennets are good people,” the housekeeper assured her. “They are not high society, not in the least, but the family has been on that land for two centuries. No, no young gentlemen, just five daughters of various ages; they are kind girls, and I do not doubt that you will find them friendly.”
Much relieved, Georgiana decided on her Pomona green gown with the white embroidery at the neckline. It was a perfectly-cut gown of excellent material, sufficiently modest to be perfect for a young lady of good breeding who was not yet out.
***
When the visitors were announced, the Bennets rose to their feet. Mr. Bennet presented his family to Mr. Bingley, Mr. Bingley then introduced the Darcys.
Mrs. Bennet’s experienced eye found Mr. Bingley the more handsome of the two gentlemen, with his sandy hair, bright blue eyes; and ready smile.
That said, though, it could not be denied that Mr. Darcy had an air of wealth and sophistication that his friend did not. Mr. Darcy had thick dark hair that looked very much as if it wished to curl, and dark eyes that seemed to miss nothing. He was quiet, dignified, maybe even a bit aloof.
Mr. Darcy’s younger sister had his dark eyes, but her hair was blond. She was, Mrs. Bennet thought, not yet fully at ease in the company, but she seemed inclined to be friendly. She was, Mrs. Bennet thought, about Lydia’s age, but without Lydia’s brashness.
Mr. Bingley, for his part, saw five pretty young ladies; without thinking twice, he immediately sat beside the prettiest of the lot. This was, as it turned out, the eldest Miss Bennet.
Mary happened to catch Georgiana’s eye and motioned toward the seat beside her own.
Georgiana smiled at Mary and joined her on the sofa.
Georgiana glanced around the room and was satisfied by her choice of attire.
The young lady beside whom she had sat was dressed quite plainly, and in colours that did not enhance her complexion at all, but the other young ladies were wearing gowns not too dissimilar to her own.
The fabric was not quite as fine, perhaps, nor the cut as perfect, but Georgiana did not feel that she stood out amongst the others.
She relaxed, then, and felt that she might be among friends.
Mr. Darcy, surveying the available seats, chose to sit beside the second eldest, Miss Elizabeth. She smiled pleasantly at him, and asked him how he liked Meryton so far.
“I have been here all of four hours, Miss Elizabeth,” he replied, a bit tartly. “So I do not yet have an opinion.”
She thought his reply unnecessarily rude, as it would have taken no effort at all to simply say that he liked it, so she deliberately turned the tables by becoming overly apologetic.
“You just arrived today and then had to go out to dinner before you were even rested! Oh, I am so very sorry; that is dreadful timing. I apologise; we had no idea as to your arrival date.”
As she had intended, her remorse made Mr. Darcy feel rather churlish for having answered her innocent enquiry in such a manner. He did his best to amend the situation, quickly saying, “Not at all. You could not have known; in any case, it is a pleasure to be here.”
That was true, he realised. Georgiana seemed well occupied with the young lady she sat beside, and Mr. Bingley was entirely occupied – one might even say preoccupied! – with the young lady he sat with.
Mr. Darcy turned his attention back to Miss Elizabeth, who was saying, “My mother is a renowned hostess in our small town. I can assure you that you will be well-fed, if not well-entertained.” Her eyes twinkled.
They were very lovely eyes, he thought; quite dark and full of expression.
And her lashes were so long as to be almost dramatic.
“My sister Mary will play for us after dinner, and she is an accomplished musician. And if you like books,” she went on, her face suddenly very still and her eyes now in her lap, “my father has a respectable collection, which he would allow you to review. This might compensate for any discomfort you experience by being forced to socialise after a full day of traveling.”
“I do like books,” he said at once. “And I would be very happy to see his collection.”
She seemed displeased by his answer, which rather confused him, as it had been she who had introduced the topic of books.
Georgiana and Mary had begun by talking about what they had done over the summer.
Georgiana said that she had spent the summer with a cousin in Kent.
Mary replied, “I would have very much liked such a change of scene! Alas, nothing much changes here at Meryton. I play the piano, read books, and listen to my two younger sisters argue.”
They both glanced towards Kitty and Lydia, who were indeed arguing about something, and Mary murmured, “Lydia is the leader, and one never knows what she will say or do next; Kitty simply follows along. Truly, they should not be allowed out of their room, let alone in company, but I must admire their liveliness!”
This led to a discussion of liveliness as a characteristic, and whether or not it was a desirable thing. “For,” Georgiana confided, “I think I am not at all lively, and wish I were a good deal livelier.”
“But what does it even mean, to be lively?” Mary asked.
“I think it means full of life, but I may be too literal in my understanding,” Georgiana said.
“Well, my two youngest sisters certainly are full of life,” Mary replied, ruefully.
“But I can tell you that it becomes wearying to be around. And it must be wearying for them as well, for they collapse into their beds every night exhausted and sleep quite soundly. But I have not the stamina for such behaviour, even if I wished to emulate it.”
“Nor I,” Georgiana agreed. “Still, it is a good thing in certain contexts. For example, one hears an older person spoken of as being aged but still quite lively.”
“True; in that case, being full of life would be reckoned as excellent.” Mary nodded.
Georgiana changed the subject. “Tell me, Miss Mary, what sort of social life does Meryton offer? We will likely be here until Christmas; what may we expect?”
“There is an assembly in just a few weeks, and of course you would be most welcome to attend,” Mary said.
“An assembly! That is excellent,” Georgiana said. “I am not truly ‘out,’ but I think my brother will have no objection to my attending a country assembly.”
“And there are often card parties,” Mary went on. “And dinner parties and teas. I am not terribly social myself, and I suspect I should make more of an effort.” She sighed.
“Why are you not terribly social? Or is this a rude question? I am sorry, I intend no offense,” Georgiana said. Her expression was so sincere that Mary found it impossible to take umbrage.
“No, you are not rude; it is just that my two eldest sisters are the pretty ones; my two youngest sisters are the lively ones, as we have just discussed; I am just the dull and unattractive one, I suppose,” Mary said, looking down at her hands.
“Well, your two younger are definitely lively, and Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth are certainly very pretty indeed, but that does not mean that you are dull and unattractive, Miss Mary. I shall never believe it!” Her tone rang with enthusiasm, and Mary smiled at her gratefully.
Mr. Darcy, hearing his sister’s voice across the room, glanced at her and raised an eyebrow, silently enquiring if she was well; Georgiana nodded at him, and he returned to his conversation with Miss Elizabeth.
Mary did not miss this interaction. “He takes care of you, I see,” she observed to Georgiana.
“He is the best brother in all the world,” Georgiana answered at once.
“I envy you,” Mary sighed. “I have a surfeit of sisters, but one brother would have been very nice, for several reasons.”
“I would have loved to have sisters,” Georgiana said, regret in her voice. “A brother is all very well, but one wishes for siblings of one’s own sex! And you have both a mother and a father, while I have neither.”
“No parents?” Mary sounded shocked.
“No; my mother died when I was quite young; my father three years ago. My brother and my cousin are my guardians.”
“I am sorry, Miss Darcy; that is hard indeed.” Mary imagined her life without her mother, and was so overcome with sorrow for her new friend that a tear trickled down her cheek.
Georgiana was immediately touched by this clear evidence of understanding and friendship. “Please, I hope you will call me Georgiana.”
Mary’s smile bloomed at once. “And I am Mary.”
They were called in for dinner, then, and Mrs. Bennet announced that seating would be informal; everyone could sit where they wished.
Georgiana and Mary immediately sat together on one side of the table, and they were joined by Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.
Kitty, Lydia, Jane and Mr. Bingley were on the other side.
Mr. Darcy had found Miss Elizabeth unexpectedly interesting.
After the initial difficulty of their conversation, there had been a period of silence.
Then she asked him his opinion of the poetry of Robert Burns, and the animated discussion that followed revealed her to be surprisingly well-educated and well-spoken.
She was only a country girl, of course, but she was certainly not an average country girl, not by any means.
***
After Mrs. Bennet led the ladies back to the drawing room, Mr. Darcy had the opportunity to speak to his host. “Your daughter tells me you have a library that is worth viewing,” he began.
“I would be happy to show it to you,” Mr. Bennet replied, cordially. “It is not quite the collection that it once was, but I believe it still to be worthwhile.”