Chapter Ninety-Three
You have been very quiet, Georgiana,” her uncle observed at dinner. “Are you not well?”
“Yes, perfectly well.”
The Countess winced. She had not had the opportunity to tell her husband of the new Mrs. Darcy’s rather mysterious warning about Georgiana having had an ‘eventful winter,’ whatever that might mean.
She said, hastily, “I understand from Catherine that you visited Rosings Park over the summer, Georgiana, is that right?”
“Yes; I was there for some weeks.”
“And how did you find Anne?”
This was a subject on which Georgiana could speak freely.
She would always remember it, she thought, as the last good time in her life, the last time she had been innocent.
“Anne and I did very well together, Aunt. Brother sent us a pony and a little phaeton, and we went round the park regularly. Dear little Socks! I hope he is doing well.”
“That was doubtless good for Anne’s health.”
“Oh, very good! And she has a new doctor, one who does not bleed her, but advises plenty of exercise and good food.”
“That sounds eminently sensible; though I am surprised Catherine permits it.”
This caused Georgiana to break into a peal of laughter, and she promptly recounted the story of the little brown pills, which had turned out to be nothing more than bits of brown bread, rolled into little balls!
The Countess was heartened upon hearing her niece laugh so heartily; surely Mrs. Darcy – Elizabeth – was mistaken, and there was nothing at all amiss with Georgiana.
“Mrs. Darcy understands Latin, does she?” the Earl asked.
“Oh, and a good deal more besides!” Georgiana said. “She reads Greek and Latin, as well as French and Italian. She speaks about poetry and books and all sorts of things. Brother quite likes it.”
“I am certain that he does,” the Earl replied. “How fortunate for him that he found such a lady!”
“We were sorry to miss the wedding,” the Countess said. “Was it lovely?”
“It was very lovely! There were three brides, three grooms, and three attendants. I was one of those, and we all had matching gowns. The breakfast was at Netherfield Park, the estate that Mr. Bingley was renting, and it was very festive.”
“Mrs. Darcy’s father has an estate in Hertfordshire, I understand?”
This was now a little too close to the subject that Georgiana had to avoid, so she simply nodded and looked down at her plate. After that, she could not be coaxed into more than monosyllabic responses.
The Countess sighed. Perhaps Elizabeth was not so far off the mark, after all.
***
“An eventful winter? Whatever does that mean?” the Earl asked, after Georgiana had excused herself and gone upstairs.
“I have no idea. But you saw her at dinner; she seemed fine one moment, and then quite moody the next.”
“Well, she is a young girl, and girls have their moods, do they not?”
“They do, and Georgiana has always been shy, but this is something different. I do not understand it, and I cannot like it.”
“Sit her down and question her until she tells you what these events involved,” the Earl suggested.
The Countess considered it. “Elizabeth said it would be best not to press her.”
The Earl snorted. “We have known Georgiana all her life, and this new Mrs. Darcy cannot have known her more than a few months! Surely we are in a better position to judge than she.”
“I think not,” the Countess said, slowly. “Let us just wait, Henry.”
***
The next day, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy visited Matlock House. They were both glowing, and there was a good deal of warm glances and touches between them. The Earl and Countess were happy to see that their altogether too serious nephew had made a marriage of affection!
But Georgiana was baffled.
Elizabeth looked happy! More than happy, she looked like a cat who had gotten into the cream, and Brother looked just the same.
Georgiana remembered George reaching into her bodice, and pushing his tongue into her mouth, and she shuddered at the memory.
There must be something wrong with me, she thought.
Here is Elizabeth, who doubtless endured that sort of thing all night long, and she looks deliriously happy!
I endured it for all of twenty minutes, and I hated every moment of it.
Something wrong with me. The refrain went round and round in her head, and it would not stop. Finally, she pushed her teacup away, said in a strangled voice that she had a headache, and ran upstairs to her room.
Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth looked at one another in consternation.
“I cannot understand it,” the Countess pronounced. “She clearly loves you, Elizabeth, so surely she is not upset that her brother is married.”
“No, it is not that,” Elizabeth replied. “There were some…difficulties…this winter, and I think she is occasionally reminded of them.”
“Difficulties? Go on.”
“We cannot speak of it, Aunt, truly. It would upset Georgiana terribly if she even suspected you knew anything about it.”
The Countess’ eyes narrowed in thought. She tapped her chin. “Nothing at Rosings Park, she seemed fine when we spoke of that. She was enthusiastic about the wedding. It was only when Henry asked about your father’s estate, Elizabeth, that she seemed to close down.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Aunt Eleanor, may I just say that someone did something to hurt her feelings, and she is not yet recovered from it.”
“Someone in your family, Elizabeth?” the Countess asked sharply.
“No! Heavens, no. Everyone in my family adores her, I assure you.”
“Truly, Aunt, it will not help anyone for you to know more details,” Mr. Darcy put in. “I would be very grateful if you would ask no more. I know that we are asking a good deal of you, to host her for a week and not ask questions; if it is too much, then we will all leave for Pemberley tomorrow.”
The Countess put her hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. “No; I will be happy to have her here. I promise to do my best to entertain her, try to keep her mind from her troubles, whatever they might be, and not pry. Does that satisfy you?”
“Yes,” Mr. and Mrs. Darcy chorused together. And then they smiled at one another, clearly and absurdly delighted to have spoken as one.