Chapter Seventeen #3
Taking a shuddering breath, Georgiana sat on her bed and watched numbly while Farley lit the branch of candles on the dressing table, the ones on the mantel beside the wooden clock, and the lamp in the middle of the small round table near the center of the room.
“There, that’s better, miss,” Farley said.
She calmly walked to her mistress and helped her out of her robe.
“That’s a nice bow you achieved, miss. Well done.
Now, get yer legs under those covers and lay yerself against yer pillows.
One of the maids is bringing you yer hot milk.
That’s it, not too low. You’ve had an upset, that’s all, miss.
Nothing to worry yerself about anymore. It’s all over. ”
“I want Fitz,” Georgiana said in a small voice, obediently following Farley’s orders.
“‘Course you does, miss,” Farley said, tucking her covers about her legs and lap. “He’ll be home soon enough. You don’t want him seeing you in right state, do you, miss?”
“You are quite right, Farley, dear,” Georgiana said, taking another shaky breath as she struggled to find courage. “I am not a child anymore.”
“‘Course you ain’t, miss. Yer almost a woman grown. Yer too old to be afraid of a bugbear, which is all that man is, miss.”
“They told you, then…in the rooms…who it was who came to the door?” Georgiana could not make herself say his name. Saying his name made him more real, somehow, which was foolish because he was real.
“They did, miss.” Farley moved to a chest of drawers, removed a quilted white tippet, edged in soft lace, and brought it to the bed. “Let’s put this round you, miss.”
Georgiana sat up a little so the short capelet could be thrown around her shoulders. Once in place, she leaned back against the pillows again. “I will tie it closed, Farley.”
“Yes, miss.”
There was a row of three ribbon ties down the front of the tippet. Georgiana steeled herself and calmed her fingers so she could manage the bows.
“There, how is that?” she asked, looking proudly up at her maid.
“Nicely done, miss,” Farley said, beaming. A knock came at the door. “There is yer hot milk. I hope they remembered to put nutmeg and honey in it like I told them to.”
She unlocked the door, took the tray without letting the maid inside, and then locked the door after.
Farley carried the tray to the round table and lifted the lidded chocolate cup off the tray and brought it to Georgiana.
She set it and its saucer on the bedside table.
Farley removed the lid. The smell of honey and nutmeg escaped.
“It smells lovely,” Georgiana said, taking a deep breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her bedclothes moving. Focusing on it, she saw a lump move. She stifled a gasp.
“Lordy,” Farley said, jumping and pointing. “Did you see that, miss? Quick, get out of bed. It might be a rat!”
Georgiana moved her legs away from the lump but did not rise. Instead, she flung back the covers, expecting to find Basile curled into a ball between her sheets. It was not the cat.
“Jeffry!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”
“What’s that creature, miss?” Farley asked, hesitantly approaching the bed. “It ain’t got no tail like a rat, and it’s mighty hairy compared to one of those dastardly animals.”
“It is a guinea pig,” Georgiana said, gently lifting him into her arms. She placed him in the crook of her arm and began to pet him. “He belongs to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“How’d he get here, miss?” Farley asked.
“It is a mystery, to be sure,” Georgiana said, leaning over and rubbing her cheek along his back.
“Well, I’m right glad he’s here, miss,” Farley said, putting her hands on her hips. “You look calmer, you does. Now, drink up that hot milk before it becomes lukewarm milk.”
Georgiana reached over with her free hand and picked up the cup. She took a careful sip. “Very nice,” she murmured, and then took a larger sip.
I still wish Fitz were here, but I am feeling less anxious. Jeffry is a great help. When I can have Flora with me, she will be like Jeffry. I can hug her and pet her and I will feel calm when she is near.
I wish we could just leave here before I ever have to see George again. But…then I would miss Mary. I would miss seeing if she manages to get Dr. Gregg to fall in love with her. And, there is Fitz to consider. He is falling in love with Lizzy—I know he is.
Am I a coward? Will I let George dictate how I live my life?
Georgiana shuddered.
I do not know. I do not know. What will Fitz want?
She drank some more milk.
He will wish to defend me.
A sudden, terrifying thought took hold of her.
Oh, Lord, what if he calls George out? What if they meet, and Fitz is injured? What if he is killed? No, no, no. That cannot happen!
Georgiana took several long, deep breaths.
If I am calm and nonchalant…mayhap…mayhap…Fitz will not do anything so drastic. Yes, that is what I must do. It is a good thing, I think, that he will not be home for an hour or so. I will have time to restore the even tone of my mind.
“There, you’ve finished yer milk, miss,” Farley said, taking the cup and saucer away to set it on the tray once again. “You try and get some sleep, now, miss.”
“You will stay?” Georgiana asked, hating to hear the anxiety in her voice.
“I’m going to sit myself down right here, miss,” Farley said, pulling a ladder-back chair away from the wall and placing it next to the round table. “Do you want me to blow out some of the candles?”
Georgiana swiftly shook her head. “No, no. Cousin Douglas said to keep them lit.”
“Very well, miss.”
Georgiana let herself slip down on the pillows, but kept Jeffry safely to one side. “Do not worry, little one. I will not squish you.”
*
Darcy and Bingley, who sat on the side of the carriage that showed Netherfield, stared at the brightly lit house as they rolled along. Being almost midnight, the lights made no sense to him.
“Did the colonel decide to have guests while we were out?” Bingley asked, a smile in his voice.
“That seems unlikely,” Darcy muttered. He spied men on the grounds, some carrying what looked to be makeshift cudgels. “Something has occurred. Some alarm.”
“Those are our grooms,” Miss Bingley said, pointing out her side of the carriage.
“I see the colonel,” Bingley said. “He has strapped on his sword.”
Darcy itched for the carriage to come to a stop so he could leap out and discover what was amiss.