23. Wilted Hopes
Wilted Hopes
During the interminable thirty miles to London, Darcy was consumed with one thought. Has Miss Bingley somehow persuaded Georgiana that I would be amenable to a marriage between her and Bingley?
He rubbed his face, flushed with worry that Georgiana had been taken in. Again.
He had had his doubts after the Wickham debacle.
Georgiana remained na?ve, inexperienced in the ways of society’s vultures.
Much as he had felt her new companion steady and worthy of his trust, had he warned her of Miss Bingley’s nature?
Had he truly known it himself? All manner of recriminations flew through his mind on the journey from Kent to London, most of them aimed at himself and his failure to protect his sister.
By the time his carriage drew up at Darcy House, he was in full fury, desperate to ensure his sister had been capable of withstanding Miss Bingley’s entreaties.
Even if Bingley was not involved and had been in Georgiana’s company merely as an unwitting suitor, had Miss Bingley gone to such lengths as to create a situation where he felt some responsibility for Georgiana’s reputation and wished to marry her?
Rushing through his front door, he was somewhat relieved to learn his sister was currently ensconced in the music room with her harp master, an elderly man venerated for his artistry and delicate manner.
Georgiana is in safe hands. He headed to his rooms to refresh himself.
And I should calm myself before frightening her with my unexpected arrival.
Rather than shock, Georgiana was happily surprised to see him returned nearly a week earlier than anticipated.
Darcy had to restrain his desperation for a full accounting of the Bingleys’ behaviour and instead tell her of the dull company at Rosings and the inferior condition of the pianoforte in its long-neglected music room.
“Beyond meeting Lady Catherine’s new vicar and his wife and the guests at the parsonage,” he told her, “there was little amusement to be found.”
He had lied. Never had he more enjoyed a visit to Rosings, and it was only because of the presence of the loveliest, liveliest lady he had ever met.
He had failed to impress her as she had long impressed him, but he felt they now knew one another, and though the feelings between them were unequal, the concern she had shown to him and Georgiana gave him hope.
A hope he had failed to encourage, overcome as he had been by his fears for his sister.
Images of Elizabeth’s beautiful eyes—full of mirth or bright with anger—surged in his memory.
He had taken pains not to dwell on his final moments with her and the flash of anger he had shown—not at her, of course, but at the situation threatening his sister, who had only escaped similar danger last summer.
Georgiana seemed not to notice his preoccupation. “Poor Fitzwilliam. He will be restless without you. I imagine he is eager to become an uncle,” she added hopefully.
“And you to gain a cousin,” Darcy said, earning a smile from her.
“No longer will you be the youngest in the family.” When her smile broadened, he added carefully, “Lady Matlock has requested your company in Surrey. I believe she feels your conversation would be a welcome diversion during these final days of Amelia’s confinement. ”
Georgiana appeared pleased, if rather tremulous, at the prospect of joining the household. “Would I not be in the way?”
“Not at all,” he assured her. “Lady Matlock expressly said she and Amelia wish you to be there to coo over the babe when it is born.”
After a few moments listening to his sister’s excited murmuring about babies and the kindness of their relations, Darcy said, “She would like you there as soon as possible. Are there any engagements you must cancel or postpone?”
Turning solemn, Georgiana sighed. “Beyond Miss Bingley, who will be greatly disappointed by my leaving town, no.”
Darcy frowned, torn between melancholy and fury at such a confession.
His sister’s shyness had made it difficult for her to form friendships, and it dismayed him to hear her acknowledge how limited her social circle had become.
She was easy prey for those who wished to exploit her.
He had left her defenceless to machinations and gossip, which, fortunately, seemed not to have reached her ears.
Thank heavens Georgiana is spared such distress!
“Will you be disappointed as well?” he asked carefully. “You wrote that you have been much in company with her and Mr Bingley.”
“He is—they are—thoughtful to look after me in your absence. I am certain they will be more than pleased to have you in town in my place.”
“For now, they need not know I am here.” He regarded her closely. “You and I are more content with our own company than are others—certainly Bingley does not enjoy an idle evening at home. Have you felt overwhelmed by their overtures?”
“Oh no, well… they are your friends, and being so much older than I, very kind to provide me company while you were in Kent.” It was an admission that eased Darcy’s disquiet just a bit.
Then, her voice low and hurried, Georgiana added, “I do not wish to sound ungrateful nor to insult Miss Bingley, but it can be tiresome listening to her opinions on so many topics and having none of my own to offer.” Her voice lower, she confided, “Miss Bingley is so keen to talk of the admirable qualities displayed by you and Mr Bingley that I wonder if she knows any other gentlemen.”
His sister blushed at her own boldness, but Darcy had never been prouder of her.
He grasped her hands and smiled. “You must know that I have no particular interest in her. She is merely my friend’s sister.
Indeed, I have wished she might gain an introduction to some other gentlemen who might instead occupy her thoughts. ”
She looked shocked, but that soon gave way to a rueful confession.
“I am curious about Miss Bingley being so generous in giving her time with me. I am not out and cannot introduce her to any gentlemen or ladies. She has other friends, I hope. Many people did recognise us. However, there were moments at the gallery and at the park when I felt others greeted us oddly.”
“Oddly?”
“Some greetings seemed overly eager while others… well, some people glanced at us as though we were the objects of interest.” Georgiana’s voice fell to a whisper. “Of gossip, even.”
Darcy let out a slow breath. Skilled as she may believe herself in manoeuvring within society, Miss Bingley was inept in her machinations—and flirtations. Had Hadley not reported her ‘smiling’ at a homely baronet?
“There is no gossip about you, dearest,” he hastened to assure his sister, praying she never learnt differently.
“Much as Miss Bingley enjoys your company, she cannot be blind to the advantage your friendship provides her, and inevitably, others have noticed her desperate efforts to prove herself as near to you as a sister.” It was as close to the truth as Darcy would allow himself, and it seemed enough to be convincing.
“I am so relieved she will never be my sister.” Georgiana smiled ruefully. “A little distance from town will be good.”
Darcy patted her hand. “Pray do not send a note to Miss Bingley about your plan to go to Surrey, but if she calls unexpectedly, I will have Tompkins tell her you are indisposed.” Georgiana nodded uncertainly.
Reassured his sister knew nothing of the rumours nor the reasons behind Miss Bingley’s determined attentions, Darcy asked her to a game of backgammon.
It was not until later, once Georgiana had gone to write a letter to Lady Matlock, that he met with Mrs Annesley to discuss the change in plans and enquire as to the Bingleys’ frequency in calling.
Confused but acquiescent, she allowed that, “Miss Darcy sometimes seemed surprised by Miss Bingley’s eagerness to spend time with her.
I believe she assumed it was less about her company than about furthering her connexion to you. ”
“Did Miss Bingley claim an intimacy with my sister, or express her hope they would be sisters?”
“Never, sir.” Georgiana’s companion, a plump widow whose looks had not faded with age, gave him a sharp glance. Clearly, she understood his oblique reference to the schemes perpetrated at Ramsgate.
“Did Mr Bingley call with his sister, or alone?”
“Oh no, sir, never by himself. He accompanied Miss Bingley on two occasions, I believe, and then of course, he drove them to the park.” Mrs Annesley gazed at him worriedly. “I remained vigilant and stayed with Miss Darcy, despite a sense I had that Miss Bingley would prefer my absence.”
Darcy scowled, muttering, “Of course.”
“Her hopes were unfulfilled. I was in the room during each visit and accompanied Miss Darcy to Mr Hurst’s residence and to Gunter’s.
The only time I was not by her side was when they rode in the park.
My head ached, and it was especially bright that day.
Miss Darcy was eager to enjoy the open air and insisted I remain at home. ”
Darcy leant closer. “How long was she with the Bingleys?”
“No more than two hours, and Miss Darcy immediately came to see me upon her return. Beyond her worry over my headache, she was as cheerful as she had been before the excursion, if not a little tired from Miss Bingley’s sometimes excessive compliments.”
Darcy could not help chuckling. “Indeed, you are well-acquainted with the behaviours of the ton, and specifically with the manners of Miss Bingley and how arduous such company can be for my sister. I appreciate your watchfulness in guiding her. Truly.”
Hours later, Darcy sat at his desk, unwilling to leave his home, wary of being approached by anyone who might have heard the rumours and wished to pry—or even worse, offer congratulations.
Speaking to Bingley was of utmost importance, but he could not chance being seen in town with him nor have him call alone at Darcy House.
Unfortunately, having the knocker taken down and refusing to accept any callers would give rise to rumours among the servants, so instead he sat, plagued by vexatious thoughts.
On the journey from Kent, he thought he had determined his way through the mess—confront Bingley and tell him that his stupidity in Hertfordshire had cost him dearly.
He would inform him of his sister’s perfidy in ensuring Miss Bennet was lost to him.
Further, and most grievously, he would make clear that Miss Bingley’s letters and actions in the business of Georgiana had destroyed whatever connexion she once had to the Darcys.
Anticipating Bingley’s response to such a reprimand could not bring it into being, however, nor could it dampen any of the hum threatening Georgiana’s reputation.
Would he succeed in quashing the rumours and Miss Bingley?
Had he only had time to speak to Elizabeth, who had been so thoughtful about the consequences of Bingley’s actions at Netherfield…
“Elizabeth,” he breathed, bending over, his face in his hands.
In his anger and haste to get to his sister in town, he had not done well by Elizabeth.
She had been so remorseful about her mistakes in the entire Bingley d’affaires and had shared both her smiles and her concern with him, and he had not deigned to bid her farewell.
She would think him mannerless, expressing his anger after she had revealed Miss Bingley’s letters and then hurrying her back to the parsonage with hardly a fare-thee-well before leaving Kent entirely.
Would that he could write to his cousin and ask him to pass on a note to Elizabeth or gain the direction for her relations in town.
Impropriety aside, he was wary of the post reaching Fitzwilliam at Rosings without interception.
Although Darcy had said nothing of his interest in Elizabeth to him, his cousin knew him well enough to have noted it.
He will express my regrets, but will he convey my hopes—my intent—to see her again?
For months, he had carried the memory of the warm laughter and smiles he had glimpsed her sharing with others.
He had thought it was the presence of others—the unwelcoming hostesses at Netherfield, the rudely condescending Lady Catherine, the insufferable Mr Collins—who dulled her liveliness and amiability when he was near.
But he had learnt a harsh lesson that evening at the parsonage.
She had not liked him—she never had. He was an idiot, overstuffed with pride and expectation.
Since that evening—had it been only two days ago?
—they had made amends, perhaps become friends.
And yet, whatever ease they had earned during the time spent in one another’s exclusive company sharing tales of their sisters and vexatious friends and relations, he had erased any gains he had made towards winning her heart.
With his graceless departure, the dislike she once had felt towards him would surely return.
He could not erase the memory of her stunned expression as he left her on the path, abandoning her as his own selfish concerns overtook any consideration for her feelings.
He recalled Elizabeth’s pained smile after the ball when she had been mortified by her dawdling family’s appalling manners, the pent-up laughter and embarrassment in her expression at Rosings.
Damn.
Restlessly, he glanced at the small pile of invitations for dinners, card parties, and balls, knowing he must attend a few if he was to quell any rumours about Georgiana. His anger flared again, and he knew exactly what he must do.
Finally, he sent a card to the Albany, telling Bingley he had arrived in town and would call on him at his rooms, as he did not wish others, specifically Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley, to know he was here.
Moments later, Darcy climbed the steps wearily to his bed.
Heedless of whether his friend’s reply arrived before breakfast, Darcy would be at his door by ten o’clock.