by Leenie Brown
“You are a friend,” Anne said later when Jack had aired his consternation with her. “Georgiana does not see you as others do. Did I not already canvas this when we discussed my plan?” She picked up her cup of tea and took a sip before discarding it in favour of a sandwich. “I swear I have never been so hungry so often in my entire life.”
“I, on the other hand, have always been this hungry this often for my entire life.”
Anne giggled, and Jack sighed.
“I see the point of your plan more clearly now. I cannot continue as I have been. I must either change my tactics or give her up completely.” He took a slow sip of his tea as he considered giving Georgiana Darcy up in favour of someone who readily fell for his charm. The thought settled in like a crushing weight.
“You must do as I say. Make her miss you.” Anne gave him a stern look. “I will have you for a cousin.”
“That is not for us to determine.” Moroseness, an unusual state of mind for Jack, wrapped itself around him like a scratchy barn blanket which one only used when the air was too cold to refuse it. He placed his still half-filled cup on the table. “I shall not call on her again.”
“Not at all?” Anne’s eyes were wide with surprise.
“Not at all.”
“Will you not take her for a drive?”
He shrugged and shook his head. “I may dance with her, but never the first dance and never more than one.” It stung just to say such things, but he knew he must make a marked change in his behaviour. “I will still play the part of a friend.” How he was growing to hate that word! He drew a breath and blew it out slowly. “And if she falls for another, I will wish her happy and be on my way.”
“You cannot mean it!”
He shook his head. “You must believe me when I say I do not want to mean it, but I will not force myself upon a lady who is determined to refuse me. I could not bear to see her unhappy.”
Anne’s mouth hung open.
“It is your plan,” he added. “I will play the part of a friend but appear to be looking elsewhere for a Mrs. Ralston.”
Anne snapped her mouth closed. “You are taking the plan too far! I had intended for you to tease and taunt not desert her.”
Again, Jack drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I am not deserting her. I am allowing her to choose.”
Anne’s left eyebrow rose as she scowled at him.
“It is how I wish to parry.”
Anne shook her head. “One does not win a match by dropping his sword.” She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Very well. I suppose you will not be moved on this?”
“I am resolved.” The left side of his mouth tipped upward in a half-smile. “I shall not distance myself so far that she will forget me. I said I would still play the part of charming, devil-may-care friend. It is your plan,” he repeated.
“It is not,” Anne refuted.
“Yes, I believe it is. Did you not tell me to stop calling on her, stop dancing with her, and seek another?”
“I said eventually – as in a gradual withdrawal of affections, not an abrupt reversal.”
“Would you care for another sandwich?” Jack moved the plate towards her.
“That is it? You will discuss this no further?”
“There is nothing left to discuss.” Anne could argue her points over and over again, and he could refute them just as many times. Nothing would change. He had played the part of smitten swain for nearly a year and made not an inch of progress. He would not continue down a losing path.
Anne selected a sandwich from the plate, and Jack did the same.
“You will, of course, warn me if your cousin has lost her heart to another, so that I might be prepared for any announcement?” He would need time to find somewhere to be, so that his mourning could be done in private, for he knew that even to hear of her being given to another would crush his heart and to have to witness it without a time to harden himself to it would be unbearable.
“I should not,” Anne grumbled, “but I will.”
Chapter 4
One week later, throngs of people moved from their carriages on Bow Street, up the steps, between the columns, and through the doors of the theatre while Comedy and Tragedy kept watch. Tonight, Comedy would shine from the stage while Tragedy waited his turn to play another day. But neither moved a stony lip in protest of not being adored by this mass of people, for they knew that soon, the fickle amusement seekers of London would shift their allegiance from one to the other for the few hours they would spend within these great stone walls.
Just beyond where Tragedy and Comedy stood watch and through those great doors, gentlemen and ladies mingled in the vestibule, greeting one another and surveying each other – some with covert glances and other’s raised brows and lifted chins peering down their noses at nearly everyone. In the midst of this crowd and for the first time ever when attending a play, Georgiana placed her hand on the arm of a gentleman who was neither her brother or cousin.
Mr. Bernard Tibbett smiled down at her and then, covering her hand with his free one, led her to the grand staircase as they followed Darcy and Elizabeth up to the landing and on into the saloon leading to the private boxes.
Georgiana’s stomach fluttered. She had spoken with gentlemen at soirees and danced with them at balls, but until this moment, she had not spent a full evening in the presence of one – just one — gentleman. However, while on a drive through the park when Mr. Tibbett had asked her to accompany him to the play this evening, she had been unable to formulate a good reason to refuse. She enjoyed the gentleman’s company, and, while her stomach might be nervously fluttering now, it was not because he caused her to be uneasy. He put her at ease nearly as readily as her brother, her uncle, her cousin, Mr. Pratt, or Jack did. There was no nagging sense of distrust.
That last bit made her stomach do an extra tumble. While she might trust the man beside her, she was not certain she trusted her ability to choose who should or should not be trusted. That mechanism of her mind had betrayed her once already. So, while she was excited to be taking a seat next to Mr. Tibbett this evening and speaking with Elizabeth later of him in terms of a possible match, she was only tentatively excited. She would not allow herself to give her emotions full reign. She would be cautious.
Mr. Tibbett waited for Georgiana to be seated before he took his place next to her. “Have you ever seen As You Like It?”
“No, but I have read it.”
“Which character do you prefer?” He smoothed his jacket by giving its hem a firm tug.
“Orlando,” she replied with a smile.
“Not the heroine, Rosalind?”
Georgiana shook her head. “No, I do like Rosalind, but Orlando is so noble and kind. What he does for the old man and even his brother is endearing.”
“Might I do well to be jealous of this fictitious gentleman?” Mr. Tibbett asked with a chuckle.
Georgiana raised a brow and gave him a slightly imperious, though playful, look. “No more so than any other gentleman be he real or imagined.”
“Is that so?” Mr. Tibbett shifted slightly, so that he was closer to her and could speak in lower tones. “Are there any particular non-fictitious chaps of whom I should be aware?”
Georgiana blinked. She was not comfortable with such a forward question even if it was said lightly. Flirting was not what she preferred. She would rather that a gentleman just be himself and speak to her as a friend would. However, it seemed flirting was part of the game that was played during the season, for the only gentleman who had come to call on her who did speak to her as a friend was Jack. She sighed. He had not been to see her in a week, so she had been subjected to far more flirting without a reprieve than she would have liked.
“Just my brother,” she replied with a smile, causing the gentleman next to her to straighten. “The rest you shall have to ferret out on your own.”
“The rest?” he asked in surprise.
There were no others, but Mr. Tibbet
t did not need to know that. So, Georgiana merely shrugged and looked at the boxes across from them and then to the left and right as far as she could see without leaning forward. “It is a full house tonight, is it not?”
“It seems to be,” her brother replied. “But the crush is not so oppressive when one has his own place.”
“Indeed!” Elizabeth replied with a laugh. “If only assemblies had boxes where one could hide away from the masses.”
Georgiana smiled as her brother lifted Elizabeth’s hand and kissed his wife’s knuckles, and she was reminded that teasing and flirting were not always unpleasant nor were they something confined to the participants of the season. However, it was so much more delightful to watch two people so completely in love tease and flirt than it was to bear what felt like the practiced role of a gentleman when he called on or danced with her.
“I see Anne has managed to get Alistair to take her to the theater.” Elizabeth nodded toward a box across and to the left of them. “She was hoping he would allow her to attend when she called two days ago.”
“Anne – Mrs. Pratt – is my cousin,” Georgiana explained to Mr. Tibbett.
“Ah, I know of Pratt and his wife,” Mr. Tibbett said. “I did not, however, recognize Mrs. Pratt’s Christian name, so I thank you for the clarification.” He looked across the expanse of the theater. “It seems Mr. Ralston has joined them.”
“He is their particular friend,” Georgiana said, looking again at Pratt’s box. “Oh,” she said in surprise. “Who is that with him?” A pretty looking blonde was giggling behind her fan while Jack was no doubt sharing some delightful tale.
“I will be of no help,” said Elizabeth. “I am still learning who is who.”
Mr. Tibbett squinted as he looked in the direction of the lady in question. Then, his eyes grew wide, and he blinked. “It appears to be Miss Parkes. Hmm, I did not know she enjoyed the theater. I thought she said she found it a bore.” He shrugged. “Perhaps Mr. Ralston’s presence makes it more enjoyable.” He leaned back in his seat.
“You know her, then?” Georgiana asked.
He nodded. “Yes, Miss Hazel Parkes, third daughter of Mr. Geoffery Parkes of Warwickshire. This is her second season.”
“Warwickshire?” Georgiana asked in interest. Jack had attended a house party in Warwickshire with Alistair last year.
“Have you ever been there?” Mr. Tibbett asked.
“No, but Mr. Pratt and Mr. Ralston attended a house party there shortly before my cousin and Mr. Pratt married.”
Mr. Tibbett’s head bobbed up and down slowly. “At Stanton’s,” he said. “I was there as was Miss Parkes.”
“Oh.” Georgiana tipped her head and studied what she could make out of the lady sitting next to Jack. “Is she nice?”
“Miss Parkes?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Tibbett shrugged. “I suppose so, yes.”
Georgiana wished to know if the lady put on airs and pretended to be what she was not, for she did not wish for Jack to tie himself to someone who would not care for him as he deserved. However, she would not ask such a thing. For if she did, Mr. Tibbett might think that Jack was one of the gentlemen of whom he should be jealous, but he was not. He was Jack — kind, considerate, funny, endearing Jack. She sighed as the noise in the theater faded into silence, and the play began. She cast one more glance at Jack and Miss Parkes. Jack was leaning toward Anne and whispering something to her that caused her to swat him with her fan and Alistair to laugh. He really was charming, she told herself, and for a moment, she wished that she was sitting comfortably next to the charming Jack instead of here with Mr. Tibbett. Then, after one last look at her cousin’s box, she turned her attention to the stage and allowed herself to be swept away by the equally as charming Orlando.
~*~*~
“We must go see Anne,” Elizabeth said at the beginning of the intermission. “And personally, I would find a walk to be lovely after sitting for so long. What say you, Georgiana?”
“Hmm?” Georgiana slowly turned her head toward Elizabeth. Her mind was still on the empty stage, contemplating the latest scene.
“I said that it would be a fine thing to take a walk and visit with Anne.”
Georgiana smiled slowly. “Oh, of course. We must, or Anne will feel ignored.”
“And we do not want that,” Darcy muttered.
Georgiana raised a brow at the comment.
“She will make certain she is not ignored,” Darcy explained. “She is Aunt Catherine’s daughter.”
“She allowed us to ignore her for years,” Georgiana replied.
“Yes, but she has decided that she will no longer be overlooked,” Darcy refuted, “and once she has made a decision, there is little which seems able to stop her.”
“Except her husband,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “Mr. Tibbett, you do not mind accompanying us to Mr. Pratt’s box, do you?”
“Oh, not at all.” Mr. Tibbett stood and offered Georgiana his hand in assistance in rising. “A walk would be most welcome, and it is not as if any but Mrs. Pratt are strangers to me.”
So it was, that not many minutes later, the group of four stood inside Mr. Pratt’s box, doubling its number of occupants.
“Oh, I had hoped you would visit,” Anne cried in delight. “I was just telling Alistair that we should make our way around to you, but he would not hear of it.” Her lips pursed, and a brow rose. “He thinks I am too fragile for such an excursion.” Her lips slid into a small smile as she spoke, letting one and all know that she was not truly put out with her husband.
“It would have involved a lot of jostling and bumping,” Alistair inserted.
“And I, for one, would find such treatment ghastly difficult to abide.” Jack placed his hand over his heart with a flourish. “So, it was not a limiting of his wife’s activity, but an act of utmost sympathy for a friend.”
This comment, of course, drew giggles from both Mrs. Pratt and Miss Parkes as well as Georgiana and Elizabeth. The gentlemen of the party were by varying amounts less amused. Darcy chuckled softly. Mr. Tibbett made no sound of enjoyment at all, and Alistair shook his head and apologized for his friend.
“I am afraid a trip to the theatre always has an unhinging effect on Jack,” Alistair said. “He will for the next day and a half fancy himself an actor.”
Jack raised a hand in protest. “Have you not attended the script, my friend?”
“As carefully as the next person,” Alistair replied flatly.
“I fear you have not,” Jack countered.
Alistair shook his head once again, this time with a great sigh. “I should not say this, but please explain.”
“Oh, yes, do!” Anne added.
Jack straightened, cleared his throat, and in dramatic fashion said, “Has the bard not said all the world’s a stage, my friend?” He placed a hand on Alistair’s shoulder. “And all the men,” he motioned to himself, “and women,” he motioned to Miss Parkes, “merely players. They have their exits and their entrances.” He placed his hand on his heart again with a flourish. “And one man in his time plays many parts.”
“Bravo!” cried Miss Parkes. “That was very well done, Mr. Ralston.”
Jack smiled and took as sweeping a bow as he could in such close quarters.
“Really, Jack, you are too much at times,” Alistair muttered.
“It is the theatre,” Jack countered. “If there is anywhere in all the world where one might be too much, it is here. Are not the players hired because they excel at too much?”
“You have a point,” Darcy agreed.
“Thank you, sir,” Jack said with a small bow.
“Might it be possible that you return to just enough?” Alistair asked.
There was such a look of pleading in the poor man’s eyes that it caused Georgiana to press her lips together to keep from laughing.
Jack acquiesced, and introductions were then made.
“How are you finding the play?” Elizabeth a
sked Anne and Miss Parkes.
“Delightful,” said Miss Parkes and Anne agreed.
“I thought you had mentioned not enjoying the theatre,” said Mr. Tibbett, whose posture, Georgiana noticed, was more rigid than it had been all evening.
Miss Parkes tipped her head and gave him a smile much as a governess might a poor confused child. “I believe what I said was that the theatre is too full of tragedy for my liking, and I am certain you would not see me here if this play were a tragedy. There is far too much worry and woe in the world. I have no need to come to the theater to be reminded of that. Comedies, however, I adore. I do not think one could keep me away from the theatre if there was the opportunity to laugh and feel one’s heart lighten.”
“I see,” said Mr. Tibbett before falling silent.
“I admit I also prefer comedies to tragedies,” Georgiana said to fill the void. “However, it is the ability of the players to transport me to a different time and place that truly captures my mind and spirit. I fear I could never be an actress.” She glanced at her brother who had raised an eyebrow at the comment. “Not that I ever would be,” she added with a small smile. “I do not have the ability of Mr. Ralston to affect airs.”
“Ah, with practice, one might be surprised,” Jack interjected.
“No,” Georgiana insisted. “I am certain I would never feel at ease on the stage.”
“Nor would I,” said Miss Parkes, laying a hand on Georgiana’s arm. “So many eyes! Singing at a musicale is trying enough, and there are never the masses of people in attendance there that there are here.”
“That is so true,” Georgiana agreed. “I do not sing, however.”
“You may not sing, but you play the piano better than anyone I know,” said Miss Parkes.
“Thank you.” Georgiana attempted to keep the confusion she felt from showing in her expression.