Chapter Twenty-Six
The invitation to join Georgiana for tea came the following morning. Jane, Elizabeth and Mary were delighted to accept, while the two youngest were furious at being left out.
“This is your fault, Mary! You kept her all to yourself the entire evening! I hardly had a chance to speak with her, and you are already on a first-name basis and invited to tea!” Lydia exclaimed.
Mary shrugged and did not bother to respond, but Jane spoke quickly, hoping to soothe Lydia’s ruffled feathers. “There will be plenty of time for you and Kitty to get to know her. I understand she is to be here until Christmas.”
“Well, it will be our turn to host her next,” Kitty said. “And Lydia and I will insist on being present for it.”
“Fair enough,” Jane said.
***
Jane rather hoped that Mr. Bingley would be there, and she decided to dress accordingly. Elizabeth’s brows rose when she saw Jane select one of her favourite blue dresses from her wardrobe. “Is this for Mr. Bingley?” she asked.
Jane coloured, but nodded. “He might be there, you know.”
“I suppose so.”
“And Mr. Darcy might be there as well. I know you do not like him, Lizzy, but be polite. There is no reason to alienate our neighbours.”
“I agree, Jane; I will be everything cordial, I promise.”
“And why does he remind you of Papa? Just because he went to see the library? A man may enjoy reading without being…well, Papa.”
“I know that.” Elizabeth’s voice was clipped.
Jane sighed.
Elizabeth did not respond. Truly, it was impossible for her to explain just how deeply her father had wounded her.
She had adored him; he had taught her to read, how to study languages.
It had been he who had taught her enough math that she had been able to work out her small sums and her percents.
And then – then! – he had actually slammed his door in her face!
She had pounded on the study door, but he had ignored her; finally, she had run up to her room to weep.
She had had many years in which to brood on that particular afternoon. She had concluded that her adored father had had so little regard for her future, and for that of her mother and sisters, that he had saved nothing for them until she, however inadvertently, had taught him the error of his ways.
This was not the loving father she had imagined. She understood now that this imaginary father had been nothing but a fantasy; he had never been that man. Since then, he had never explained himself to her, never apologised, never in any way acknowledged his inattention to his family’s needs.
And all these years later, her father was still resentful at having had to sell some of his books to provide for his family! He had even mentioned it to Mr. Darcy at the dinner party! Would it never end?
She could not pinpoint what it was about Mr. Darcy that so reminded her of her father.
Perhaps it was the way he so obviously doted on his young sister, just as Mr. Bennet had once doted on Elizabeth.
Or perhaps, as Jane had said, it was Mr. Darcy’s obvious interest in books.
Would Mr. Darcy spend all his coin on books, rather than on his family’s well-being?
She could not know; but she would not trust him, any more than she would trust her father.
***
As it happened, neither Mr. Darcy nor Mr. Bingley were present when Jane and Elizabeth arrived. The drawing room was occupied by just Georgiana and a maid. Elizabeth smiled upon seeing Georgiana order the tea tray, just as if she were a society lady.
Georgiana, seeing Elizabeth’s smile, laughed and said, “It must look odd to see someone as young as me summoning servants! But there is no hostess here, as I told you, so I am serving in that role. Brother thinks it is good training for me, and Mr. Bingley is just glad there is someone to arrange the menus.”
“You do it so naturally, Georgiana!” Elizabeth replied. “I was just smiling to see how well you perform your role.”
“Well, I suppose I have been ordering servants about all my life,” Georgiana admitted, turning red.
“As have we all,” Mary agreed. “Though you very likely have more servants than we do.”
Thinking of the several hundred servants at Pemberley, Georgiana only nodded and offered more tea.
***
When Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy returned from their duties on the estate, they heard the sound of light, happy laughter coming from the drawing room.
It is impossible for any young gentleman to ignore the sound of feminine delight, and so Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy exchanged a quick glance and a smile, and then proceeded to find the source of that laughter.
Mr. Darcy saw his sister sitting with Miss Mary on the piano stool, evidently working on some complex fingering.
Miss Bennet was beside Miss Elizabeth, and it was evidently Miss Elizabeth’s laughter he had heard.
Their heads were together, Miss Bennet’s shining blonde hair and Miss Elizabeth’s dark brown curls, shot through with strands of red, gold and black.
Miss Bennet whispered something, and Miss Elizabeth threw her head back in unrestrained merriment.
The darkness of her hair against the white column of her exposed throat!
Mr. Darcy could not take his eyes off her.
As he walked into the drawing room and bowed, he saw Miss Elizabeth’s expression of mirth fade, to be replaced by wariness. He wondered yet again how he had offended her, but his thoughts were immediately interrupted by his sister.
“Brother!”
“Georgiana!” he replied, moving toward the instrument.
“Look at this; Mary can actually reach the nine note spread here in Herr Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata! I have been trying and trying, and I still cannot accomplish it!”
Mary explained, “Look, Georgiana; the only way I can do it is by leaning back and touching the keys at their very edges. You are trying to reach nine notes on the top of the keys, and clearly our hands are too small to accomplish that.”
“Oh! Oh! You are right!”
“But you must be very quick; lean back, strike the keys, and then sit up straight again.”
“Herr Beethoven doubtless has much larger hands than ours,” Georgiana declared. “It seems rather unfair.”
“It is a disadvantage that we ladies face,” Mary agreed. “But we can find ways around it.”
Mr. Darcy thanked Miss Mary for helping his sister, and then went to sit near Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, noting absently that Bingley had already claimed Miss Bennet’s attention. “Have you enjoyed your afternoon here at Netherfield?” he asked Miss Elizabeth.
She turned to face him. “Shall I mimic you and say that I have only been here a few hours, so how could I have an opinion? No, no, I apologise, Mr. Darcy; that was ill done of me. Your sister has been everything kind and welcoming.”
“As was everyone at Netherfield and Longbourn; my comment at your home was uncalled for.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, you were weary, and that is a legitimate excuse. I have no such justification for bringing it up again.” She wondered why she had; surely it had been of no importance.
He smiled at her. “Let us both forget it and begin again, shall we? Miss Elizabeth, I find Meryton very lovely indeed, and I like it quite well.”
He had a very nice smile, and she could not help but smile back. “And I have enjoyed my afternoon at Netherfield very much.”
“Good; I am glad.”
He really did have a very nice smile, she thought. But noticing it made her rather uncomfortable, so she looked away hastily, saying, “And the drawing room is very lovely. Of course, this is hardly the first time I have been here.”
“Ah; you must have visited other tenants.”
“I have, yes; Mr. Rochester is very careful to lease only to gentleman of good reputation. My Uncle Philips is responsible for finding suitable tenants, so we usually know something of them before they even arrive. This is the first time there has been a young lady near our own age, however, so having her here has been a special treat.”
“I am glad to hear it. My sister is certainly grateful to find friends so close by.”
His voice was low-pitched and somehow both soothing and exciting. Elizabeth felt the discomfort rise again, and she asked, quickly, “Did you enjoy your visit to my father’s library?”
“I did, yes; he has a good collection.”
“I recall him telling you that it was not what it once was.”
“Yes; he said it more than once. I was not inclined to enquire into the particulars; I imagined there was an accident, a fire, perhaps, or a flood of some sort.”
“Not quite that, no. Have you a collection of your own, Mr. Darcy?”
He answered quietly. “I do, though I think of it as not belonging to me, but being only entrusted to me.”
“I do not understand.”
“It is the work of several generations; it is my responsibility to keep it safe and add to it as I feel appropriate.”
She shook her head at this, wondering how much money and attention had gone into the library that should have been directed elsewhere.
“What is it, Miss Elizabeth?” His voice was gentle.
“Nothing whatever.” She shook off her disquiet and smiled brightly. “I have enjoyed watching our sisters play on the piano together. Mary has had no one to share her passion until now, and she is so very happy!”
He understood that the subject was to be changed, and he followed her lead. “It is good for Georgiana as well. There are few young ladies who can meet Georgiana at the instrument as anything near an equal.”
Elizabeth nodded toward Mr. Bingley and Jane. “Your friend seems to have a good deal of interest in my sister.”
Mr. Darcy said, quietly, “Mr. Bingley is an honourable gentleman.”
“I would never suggest otherwise, Mr. Darcy, I assure you. As I said, Mr. Rochester is quite particular as to who is permitted to lease his home. The general belief is that he will someday return to claim his property and wishes there to be no ill will towards him for any reason.”
“That is quite forward-thinking.”
“It is, yes.”
“Who is this Mr. Rochester?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “None of us have the slightest idea; it is all very mysterious! There have been a good many theories advanced, including the ridiculous idea that Mr. Rochester is actually the Prince Regent, but there is so little information to go on that the gossip has pretty much died down.”
“And your uncle, Mr. Philips, does not know?”
“If he does, he has never breathed a word of it to anyone.”
“Good man,” Mr. Darcy said, approvingly.
“Yes, I suppose so; he owes it to his client to not gossip about him. But it is so very disappointing to the rest of us!” She laughed gaily as she spoke, and Mr. Darcy could not help joining in.
At the sound of Mr. Darcy’s laughter, Georgiana turned on her piano bench and saw her brother sitting with Elizabeth, the two laughing together. She smiled approvingly, and nudged Mary. “Look,” she whispered. “My brother and your sister!”
Mary shrugged. “Lizzy laughs with everyone.”
“But my brother does not,” Georgiana said, raising her eyebrows meaningfully.
“Oh!” Elizabeth clapped her hands and immediately had everyone’s attention. “Before I forget to tell you, there is an assembly next week. All the Bennet ladies are to go, and I hope all of you will join us there!”
“Brother, surely you will let me attend, will you not?” Georgiana asked at once.
“A country assembly is fine, Georgiana, yes.” He turned to Elizabeth and explained, “Georgiana is not yet out, but I see no harm in such a simple pleasure.”
Mr. Bingley immediately asked Jane for the first dance, and Jane looked down, blushing, as she accepted.
Elizabeth could feel Mr. Darcy looking at her; she deliberately looked away, so as not to make him feel that he had to ask her to dance.
“Miss Elizabeth.”
She turned back toward him. “Mr. Darcy?”
“I will dance the first with my sister, but would you honour me by dancing the second with me?”
“I would be happy to, Mr. Darcy; I thank you.” And to her surprise, she found that she was not entirely displeased by the idea.