Chapter 10 Ramsgate
The move to Ramsgate took place during the second week of July. The hedgerows were lush with summer greenery, roses climbed the cottage walls, and foxgloves and hollyhocks brightened the gardens. Honeysuckle was in bloom, its fragrance perfuming the warm air.
“Mrs. Younge, I am so glad we were able to come to the seaside. My brother was not at all eager to let me go.”
“Mr. Darcy is very solicitous of your safety and well-being, my girl. I am grateful he finally relented.”
The companion paused and looked toward the house.
“Georgiana, we should return. Cook will have prepared a cold collation for us. This evening, there is an amateur musicale that I believe you will enjoy. They still have places available for performers. I think you should add your name to the program. It would be good practice, and I am certain your brother would approve. You know how much he wishes you to become more at ease in company.”
“Oh, no, Mrs. Younge. I could not. There will be ladies and gentlemen far more accomplished than I. I should be so frightened that I fear my hands would tremble too much to play.”
But Mrs. Younge persisted. “This, my dear, is the very thing for you. No one here knows you, and in that anonymity, you may relax and enjoy yourself. I can think of no better choice than the Sonata in F major, by Clementi. It is immensely popular at present, and you have mastered the piece. I believe it would be very well received.”
Georgiana was silent for a moment as she considered the suggestion.
“Very well. Though it is a more advanced work, it has long been a favorite of mine, and I know it so well that I could play it with my eyes closed. Then I need not look at the audience.”
* * *
That evening, the two ladies took their places in the assembly room of the Bear's Albion Hotel, both looking forward to the entertainment.
Georgiana looked about the room and visibly relaxed.
“There cannot be more than forty chairs set out. I had feared there might be more than a hundred guests, and the thought caused me considerable anxiety.”
Mrs. Younge patted the girl's hand reassuringly.
“You need not concern yourself whether there are forty or a hundred people in the audience, my dear. Remember, you said you would play with your eyes closed. Feel the music and take pleasure in the performance. Forget everyone and everything else, just as you do at home.”
The hostess, a middle-aged lady elegantly attired, stepped to the front of the room and welcomed the guests. She then introduced the first performer, a boy of about thirteen with a violin tucked beneath his arm.
Georgiana settled back to enjoy the musicale. When her turn came, she rose and crossed to the pianoforte.
She settled onto the bench, closed her eyes, and began to play.
The room fell silent as she gave herself to the music.
The instrument was a Broadwood grand, and its tone was incomparable.
When the final notes faded, she remained seated until the silence gave way to applause.
She straightened and, with a faint smile, turned to face the audience.
She inclined her head, then rose and returned to her chair.
A handsome gentleman, near Fitzwilliam's age, was seated beside Mrs. Younge. He stood and bowed as Georgiana resumed her seat.
Three other musicians, each accomplished on the pianoforte, took their turn and then the evening came to a close. As the guests prepared to depart, Mrs. Younge turned to Georgiana.
“My dear, allow me to introduce Mr. George Wickham, a friend of mine. We met in London several years ago, during his summer leave from university. Mr. Wickham, this is Miss Darcy. I have the pleasure of serving as her companion.”
The gentleman bowed gracefully.
“Miss Darcy, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Then, turning to Mrs. Younge, he asked, “Madam, may I have the honor of escorting you home? Or shall I call a hackney for you?”
“Sir, we live a ten-minute walk from here. I should be most grateful to accept your escort.”
Mr. Wickham offered an arm to Mrs. Younge. Addressing the young lady, he said, “You will forgive me for not offering you my other arm, but I have sustained an injury.”
Georgiana's brow furrowed in concern for the kind gentleman, but from a sense of propriety, she asked no questions.
With a faint smile, he said, “It was a brief altercation with footpads as I traveled into town. I suffered nothing more than a bullet graze.”
Both ladies expressed concern at his narrow escape, and together they walked the short distance to the furnished villa Mr. Darcy had leased for the summer.
When they reached the entrance, Mr. Wickham bowed first to Mrs. Younge and then to Georgiana.
“Miss Darcy, I congratulate you on your fine performance. I have rarely witnessed such technical mastery and emotional expression in one so young.”
Georgiana was gratified, but being naturally reticent, she merely lowered her eyes and replied, “Thank you, sir.”