30. A Most Convenient Cousin
A Most Convenient Cousin
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
Elizabeth looked up from the pavement, which had provided her with no answers these past few minutes, to find Colonel Fitzwilliam approaching her.
“It is you,” he said, his voice as jovial as she remembered. “Have you been to call on my cousins, or dare I hope you have just arrived?”
She stared at him blankly, the shame she felt at having been turned away by the butler only moments ago with a polite ‘Miss Darcy is not taking callers’ overcoming any easy response. “I did not know you were in town, sir,” she finally said.
“And I did not know you had left Kent so precipitously, sent off in an abhorrent manner that shames me, until…” His brows furrowed.
“My aunt would never apologise for, or even recognise, her ill treatment of you, but I must beg your forgiveness and hope that—” He looked at her closely, and his voice, which had grown grave, took on an urgent tone.
“You are not without shelter and in need of aid here in town, are you? Zounds, is that why you are here, seeking Darcy’s assistance? ”
“No, no,” she cried. “I stay with my aunt and uncle.”
“Ah, good, very good,” he said. “You are well, and will accept my apology on behalf of my peevish aunt?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
He bowed and held out his arm. “I am here to see Darcy and his sister. May I impose on you to join me? You did say you had only just arrived, did you not?”
The colonel had a little of Lady Catherine in him, presuming the wishes and intents of others, but in this matter, Elizabeth was pleased to acquiesce. Pleasure turned to amusement when she saw the astonished expression on the butler’s countenance.
“Is Darcy in his study?” the colonel asked.
“I am here.”
Elizabeth turned as Mr Darcy himself strode through the door, his expression brightening with surprise when he saw her.
“Miss Bennet!”
As much mortification as Elizabeth had felt in the past few minutes, it was overcome by the sense of relief that swept through her when Mr Darcy looked at her, his worried eyes searching hers. “You are well? Has something occurred?”
“Yes, and well, yes, I wished to speak—”
“Brother, is that you?” called a female voice. “I am on my way out. I understand a lady called here for me a few minutes ago, but you need not worry—it was not Miss Bingley.”
A young woman, presumably Miss Darcy, emerged from the shadows of a long corridor. “Oh,” she cried in dismay when she saw Elizabeth standing in the entry hall with the two men. “I, um…”
“Ah, Georgiana,” said Mr Darcy, handing his gloves and hat to the butler. “This is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, whom I met in Hertfordshire, and more recently at Rosings. Miss Bennet, this is my sister, Georgiana.”
Perhaps understanding the girl’s continued confusion, the colonel said, “I encountered Miss Bennet on my walk and begged her to accompany me here to meet you, Georgiana.”
Miss Darcy blushed at her cousin’s impertinence, but her curiosity appeared satisfied. Mr Darcy turned to Elizabeth, eyed her wonderingly, and enquired whether she might join them for refreshments in the drawing room. She nodded gladly.
He looked at his sister meaningfully. “Georgiana? Might you delay your errand?”
“Oh yes, I will call for tea.”
Elizabeth and Mr Darcy would not speak alone, but in company, as was proper.
Perhaps she would find a moment to apologise to him, to explain what had occurred at the parsonage.
Perhaps I should have enclosed a letter in his book.
Well, she would have the chance to know Miss Darcy.
After all, it was not fair to put him in an awkward position.
Was it not enough she had come, alone, to his house?
As Georgiana spoke to the housekeeper and Fitzwilliam led Elizabeth to the drawing room, the butler stepped towards Darcy, looking abashed.
“My apologies, sir. Your instructions regarding Miss Darcy’s visitors pertained only to Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. In your absence this morning, I may have overstepped. ”
“All is well, Tompkins.” Of course, Darcy had no idea if it was well. Elizabeth appeared more discomfited than distressed and it was not clear how much Fitzwilliam had prevaricated about his seemingly chance encounter with her. His cousin’s story was ridiculous, but Georgiana had believed it.
He would believe it as well. Elizabeth was here, in his home.
At risk of her reputation, she had come to him.
He could tell her of his final conversation with Bingley and assure her he would no longer trouble her sister.
He would say nothing of his visit to his clubs afterwards, taking a drink in the card rooms at White’s and Boodle’s and listening to the drunken boasts and lurid half-truths tossed around there.
No one spoke to him of his sister or Bingley.
Instead, he was ‘entertained’ by the tale of a newly married viscount caught out by his wife when she saw the ink marks made by his mistress connecting his moles.
He patted his pocket containing the note which had arrived from Bingley earlier.
I have spoken to Caroline, though I cannot say she has learnt her lesson. She will have her fortune by week’s end, and with that she is free to determine her own fate. As for me, it is time to assess my decisions and, more importantly, my indecision, in life. I am determined to firm my chin.
Much as Bingley had frustrated him with his rash behaviour, Darcy now felt an inkling of pride mixed with his relief. He had spent far too much time helping his younger friend manage his affairs. It is time to manage my own.
He took a breath and entered the morning room, where Elizabeth sat beside Georgiana, resplendent and looking as if she had always belonged there.
The light shade of green in her gown matched her bonnet, and together, they somehow made her lovely eyes even more striking.
She caught sight of him and smiled. He was lost, feeling the thrum of possibility that she might welcome his feelings.
He returned it, heedless of what the others might think, and took the chair nearest her.
He would thank Fitzwilliam later for his unusual graciousness in leaving it to him.
Though nervous, Georgiana appeared pleased to make the acquaintance of the lady who, she said brightly, her brother had mentioned in his letters from Netherfield and Rosings. She quickly added, “Only that he was pleased to encounter you again, as you made a lively addition to Rosings.”
“Thank you, Miss Darcy. I believe I was seen as just that, ‘a lively addition’, by Lady Catherine as well.”
Fitzwilliam chuckled, but Darcy could only smile, astonished by Elizabeth’s ability to make a joke about anything concerning his aunt.
He felt her gaze on him and wondered whether she shared his impatience for the formality required while his sister remained.
He could barely hide his relief a few minutes later when Georgiana excused herself to finish packing for her trip to Surrey.
A moment later, the housekeeper, Mrs Tully, entered and took a chair in the far corner.
She pulled a letter from her pocket and began to read.
Fitzwilliam chuckled. “My mother has directed me to accompany Georgiana and her companion. I am certain she wishes a report on our visit to Lady Catherine—and on what has been done to quiet any hum in town. Forgive me, Miss Bennet. There is some ugly business about Darcy’s friend, Bingley.
” His cousin looked at Elizabeth, but Darcy was pleased to see her gaze was settled on him.
He leant towards her. “I am mortified by Lady Catherine’s attack on your good name and character. I learnt of it from Fitzwilliam and—”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, truly, it is of no matter. Misunderstanding another’s essential nature is a common mistake for many of us.”
It is indeed.
“And each of us must own up to our errors.” She shifted, pulled a book—the Byron!—from a pocket in her skirts, and set it on the table. “I was reassured to see you yesterday, Mr Darcy, and I thank you for lending me your book.”
How clever she was, returning his manoeuvre! Darcy nodded, fighting the smile that threatened. He would not fully expose himself with Fitzwilliam gawping at him.
The laughter in Elizabeth’s expression faded, and in a quiet voice, she asked, “Have further difficulties arisen with our mutual friend?”
Fitzwilliam’s deep voice broke the spell between them. “Miss Bennet, I understand you are acquainted with Bingley?”
After a glance at Elizabeth for her permission, Darcy provided his cousin a more detailed explanation than he had managed in Kent of how the rumours about his sister and Bingley had originated.
“Hounds’ teeth,” Fitzwilliam thundered, shaking his head in disgust. “Georgiana is untouched by the gossip, but I am sorry for your sister. My mother refers to Miss Bingley as a maddening mushroom, but she deserves a far worse sobriquet for misusing two such gentle ladies. Horrid witch.” He smacked his hand on his chair before hurling himself from it and stamping towards the decanter on a corner table.
Seeing his cousin in such a lather, Darcy held up a hand, his gaze still intent on Elizabeth.
“I met with Bingley yesterday at his lodgings to ensure he had done nothing to encourage his sister’s actions and, once satisfied, warned him of his sister’s duplicity.
I counselled him to put distance between them and take himself from town—advice which I repeated with greater urgency after his call at Gracechurch Street yesterday.
” His voice softened. “Truly, I regret any harm to Miss Bennet’s welfare from his unexpected appearance. ”
“Your efforts are greatly appreciated.” She paused. “Jane is very well.”
“I am glad.” He despised how formal he sounded. Fitzwilliam was watching them curiously, and realising his cousin had called with similar questions, Darcy leant back in his chair and directed his words to both.
“Georgiana, too, is well, and though plagued with far too many visits from Miss Bingley and her thick-headed brother, she is unaware of the gossip. I told her of Miss Bingley’s hopes and her propensity to overstate the depth of our families’ friendship.
If some bit of the hum reaches Georgiana, she is prepared to be amused rather than troubled. ”
He turned back to Elizabeth, and in a lower voice, said, “As you heard, my aunt, Lady Matlock, has summoned her to the safety of the country. I apologise if there was any confusion when you arrived earlier. The servants are under firm orders not to allow anyone, particularly Miss Bingley, into the house.”
Judging by her expression, Elizabeth seemed to understand he had discerned Fitzwilliam’s ploy to save her embarrassment.
“I was at my solicitor’s offices,” he explained, moving his gaze to his cousin.
“Ugly lies and insinuations can become truth in the minds of scurrilous readers, and I will not have that happen. I have been concerned about the scandal sheets taking up the rumours that have sprung from Miss Bingley’s letters.
One bit of conjecture I heard… is that I have pushed Bingley to marry Georgiana because she is with child—perhaps his, perhaps another man’s. ”
Fitzwilliam flushed a deep red, displaying the same fury he had shown less than a year earlier when Darcy told him of the events in Ramsgate. “Devil take it!”
Elizabeth appeared not to notice his cousin’s choice of words. “That is abhorrent! Miss Darcy is but a girl!”
He would have to tell her of Wickham and Ramsgate and why this particular type of gossip was so painfully horrible to them. But this was not the time.
“Nothing is being bandied about in my clubs,” he said, glancing at Fitzwilliam, whose dangerous expression had not eased, “and my solicitor has his clerks monitoring the scandal sheets, which have been free of anything hinting at Miss Bingley’s fabrications or rumours springing from the ton.”
Fitzwilliam let out a low whistle. “You will file a suit for slander and lies if there is any mention of a young lady, granddaughter of an earl and not yet out, being engaged for any reason? Capital idea.”
“I know nothing of the law,” Elizabeth said quietly, “but would such a threat not worsen the situation by arousing curiosity?”
Of course she understood the danger in it. “It would,” Darcy admitted.
“You have taken care to chasten Mr Bingley and remove him and Miss Darcy from town, for quite opposite purposes. You have things well in hand, sir.”
Elizabeth’s praise and her small smile, warm and encouraging, stirred a sense of peace within him. There was much he wished to say to her, to ask if she was truly well after Lady Catherine’s actions and to have a conversation about ordinary things that had nothing to do with the Bingleys.
“It is Miss Bingley’s jealous hand that began all of this,” Fitzwilliam said. “She is an unpleasant spoonful, is she not?”
At the sound of his cousin’s words, Elizabeth’s gaze fell away from Darcy’s. He groaned. If only Fitzwilliam would save his breath and leave the two of them alone, but of course, his annoying tones boomed again from across the room.
“She penned the incriminating letters and imposed herself on Georgiana. But you must own up to some fault as well,” he said, shaking a finger at Darcy.
“You have been loath to inform Lady Catherine you will not marry Anne.
Have you also failed to inform Miss Bingley you have no intentions towards her?
By remaining silent, the sauce-box retains hopes that a match between a Darcy and a Bingley would encourage another such alliance.
“Have you not considered the urgency in rebuking her hopes?”