The Choices Series: Pride and Prejudice Novellas

by Leenie Brown

  “An excellent idea. What say you, Blackmoore? Care to traipse about the museum with me? Or shall we bring our drawing pad and join the ladies?”

  Blackmoore laughed. “And have my drawings stand beside yours? I think not.”

  “You draw?” Mary’s voice held not a little surprise.

  “Some. Diagrams, maps, those sorts of things.”

  “So no sculptures or nature?”

  “I am afraid not.” He gave her a sad smile. It was a pastime he had enjoyed as a young man.

  “I should be very sad to have to give up drawing things of beauty,” said Georgiana.

  Rycroft cocked his head to the side and gave his cousin a lopsided grin. “A diagram cannot be a thing of beauty?”

  “That is not what I meant,” protested Georgiana. “I meant I should hate to give up drawing objects whose very purpose is to be beautiful.”

  “Such as a flower?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes. No.” Georgiana huffed. “I know what you shall do. You shall tell me that although a flower is a thing of beauty, it may also have a purpose such as to produce fruit and, therefore, food.” She turned to Mary. “It is what he constantly does to me. He twists my words. He says he does it in an attempt to make me consider them more carefully.”

  Mary’s left brow rose most enchantingly, or so Rycroft thought. “I would have to agree that to consider one’s words is a most important skill.”

  He held her gaze for a moment. “Only an oaf would not,” he said with a tip of his head in acknowledgement that he knew what she implied with her comment.

  “Or a partial one,” she added with a smile.

  “Very true.” He could not help the smile that he wore. Indeed, he wished to chuckle, but instead he made a sweeping motion toward the door and said, “Shall we?” He only grimaced slightly when Blackmoore offered his arm to Mary.

  It was a small grimace, just a slight twitching of the eyes and a flinch of the lips, but it did not go unnoticed by his mother, who had been watching the exchange between her son and Mary with great interest. She would not, of course, make mention of it. She knew that her son needed time to process things, which usually meant activity. He was not one to think while sitting still for hours, at least not when the thinking required the wrestling of conflicting thoughts. She smiled. Perhaps that is why he had gone for a third ride after escorting Mary and Georgiana home earlier. She took his arm. “I trust your ride was refreshing.”

  His eyes shifted from where they were watching Mary and Blackmoore to his mother. “Yes, most refreshing.” He said the words she expected to hear, but in truth, he was anything but refreshed. His ride, which had included that visit to Darcy, had left him with more to ponder than it relieved.

  He had returned with a determination to fulfill his duties as an escort for his mother and her charges, but he would bury himself in his work for the next three days until Mary had left; then he would take his ease until she returned. He hoped that when she left, his unruly mind would finally be able to set itself to right. It was merely the presence of an attractive female in his home which had him at sixes and sevens. Surely it was nothing more. With the return of Mary and the beginning of the season with its numerous debutantes and other hopefuls, he would find his attentions drawn to various ladies, and this feeling of one’s entire existence being dependent on the acceptance of one lady would be just an unsettling memory.

  He averted his eyes from Mary once again as Blackmoore handed her into the carriage. He dared not watch, for the overwhelming urge to remove the man from her presence was once again growing as it had earlier during their ride.

  Three days. Just three days, he reminded himself. In three days, Mary would be safely away from Blackmoore’s attentions and his own heart would be safely returned to a state of calm, of being securely under his regulation once again.

  Chapter 6

  Mary tipped her head and studied the statue before beginning the work of completing the fine details of her drawing.

  “Mr. Blackmoore is very handsome,” whispered Georgiana, who was seated next to her. “And I do believe he has taken a fancy to you.” There was a great deal of excitement in her voice.

  Mary smiled. “I should not be disappointed if you were correct.” She began shading her drawing, giving it depth. “He is handsome and seems polite, but I know very little of his character.” She held her pencil still and looked at Georgiana. “And, as I have learned, character is of far greater importance than pleasant features and flattering words.” She sighed. “It is not impossible for the two to coexist, for I believe they do in your brother and Mr. Bingley, but I admit to remaining wary when it is my heart which is in danger of being hurt again.”

  Georgiana bit her lip as images of a handsome and flattering man crossed her mind, a man who had convinced her that she was in love with him, but whose character was revealed to be as unattractive as his face was handsome and his words were pleasing. Her heart ached at the thought of how she had been so ill-used and the hurt and concern she had caused her brother due to her foolishness. “I cannot fault you for being cautious. You must not risk a second injury, but he is my cousin’s friend. Surely there is something to be said in his favour because of that.”

  Mary considered that for a moment while she drew. She was not certain that a fact such as that was a mark in favour of Mr. Blackmoore’s character. “I do not wish to offend, for I know Lord Rycroft is a beloved cousin, but it is my understanding that before he journeyed to the country, he was considered,” she paused and looked around the room quickly, “somewhat of a rake,” she whispered. Her cheeks flushed slightly at having spoken such a thing. “He has proclaimed he is not the same man, and I believe him, but does that not cause you to wonder about his friends?”

  Georgiana laid her pencil down. “I had not thought of that, but surely one man is not guilty of all his friends have done just because he is their friend. Is he?”

  “I believe a person must be careful not to judge another based only on supposition, but I also believe a person must be careful with whom they associate for not all are so careful in their casting of judgment.” She sighed deeply. “By their fruits you will know them. That is what the good book says. We must watch their actions and deeds. How does he treat his mother, his sister, a friend, even his servants and animals? If he is harsh with them, you can know he will also be harsh with you. If he is too liberal with them, he may also be too liberal with his finances and the direction of his children, leading to ruin. Whose interests does he place first? Are they always his own? If they are, he will also place them before your interests and needs. There is so much to consider when accepting the attentions of a gentleman. It is quite daunting, but our lives and happiness depend upon careful consideration of all things.” She smiled at Georgiana. “I do apologize. I am given to moralizing. It is something about which my sisters have often chided me.”

  Georgiana looked at her thoughtfully. “I do not see anything wrong with instruction.”

  Mary laughed. “That is because you have not been subjected to my admonishments as frequently as they have. However, I am attempting to learn to lecture only when necessary, but I do find it hard not to state my opinion when provoked.”

  Lady Sophia, who had joined them, chuckled. “I would venture to guess that such is the struggle of all intelligent females. What are we discussing?”

  “The many things which need to be considered when accepting the attentions of a gentleman,” said Georgiana.

  “Indeed?” Lady Sophia’s brows rose in surprise. She had not thought the two young ladies had been engaged in quite so serious a discussion, but it pleased her that they were. Her niece needed a friend who could help her in such areas. It was all well and good that Georgiana had Mrs. Ainsley and herself as guides, but she knew to have a woman of similar age discuss the topic would carry far more weight. “And what is on your list of considerations?”

  “Character demonstrated through actions.” Georgiana beam
ed like a pupil who had been called upon and knew the correct answer.

  Again Lady Sophia could not help but be impressed with the conversation the two young ladies had been having. “Mrs. Ainsley and I have been admiring the exhibits. There is a fine collection of jewelry that might be of interest when you have completed your drawings.”

  Mrs. Ainsley and Lady Sophia took another turn about the room as Mary and Georgiana continued their work. They had only been working for a short period of time when they were again interrupted.

  “Oh, Miss Darcy! It is a pleasure to see you.” Caroline Bingley, followed by two other ladies, stopped in front of where Georgiana and Mary were drawing.

  “Miss Bingley.” Georgiana’s tone was polite but not overly warm. “I had not thought you were in town.”

  Miss Bingley waved the thought away. “My brother had some business, and I just could not bear to spend even a few days alone in the country.”

  “Were your sister and her husband not there?” asked Georgiana in surprise.

  “Yes, yes, Louisa and Hurst actually chose to remain in the country, although I do not know why.” She glanced at Mary, giving her a brief nod of acknowledgement, and then turned back to Georgiana. “I missed my friends ever so much. There is so very little to do in the country.”

  “I look forward each year to when I can return to the country,” said Georgiana. “Indeed, I prefer it to town. Solitude pleases me.”

  “Oh, to be sure, seclusion in such a place as Pemberley must be refreshing, but Netherfield and the surrounding area are so unrefined.”

  “I did not find it to be so,” said Georgiana gathering her things and rising. “We were about to take a stroll around the exhibits.”

  “As were we,” said Miss Ivison. “What fun it would be to view them together.”

  “Such a large group?” said Miss Pearce.

  “Yes,” said Miss Ivison, giving her friend a nudge with her elbow.

  “You know that does sound rather pleasant,” said Miss Pearce.

  Mary fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Is your brother in town for long, Miss Bingley?”

  Miss Bingley gave her a look that said she found Mary’s company not to her liking. “Three days. He has some documents to gather from his solicitor. Why they could not wait until after the new year, I do not know.”

  “But if he had waited, would that not mean you would have missed this opportunity to visit with your friends?” Mary linked arms with Georgiana.

  Miss Bingley did not answer, but she slipped her arm through Georgiana’s other arm. “Miss Darcy, when you have your come out, you will then understand more fully the attractions of town. The balls and soirees are so diverting. It is fortunate that Hurst and Louisa insist upon returning for the season. I would simply perish if I were forced to spend the season in the country.”

  “We understand you have an aversion to the country,” muttered Mary.

  “You would not know the pleasures of a season in town, Miss Mary.” Caroline’s tone was cool. “If it were not for the charity of your sister’s new relations, I dare say you would never have had the pleasure.”

  Mary felt the sting of the comment. “I am grateful for the invitation to join Lady Sophia for the season. Whether the season proves a pleasure or not remains to be seen. What one person deems enjoyment may not be to another’s liking, and as you have already mentioned, I have not experienced a season in town, so I can neither agree nor disagree with your assessment of its pleasures.” Mary gave Georgiana’s arm a squeeze and whispered her desire to admire a particular statue as she removed her arm and walked away from the group.

  “A season will be of little pleasure for one of her standing,” Miss Ivison whispered rather loudly to Miss Pearce, who tittered in response. “I wonder if she likes libraries as much as her sister?”

  Mary blinked against the tears.

  “Are you well,” asked Rycroft coming to stand beside her. She glanced at him and then looked around. “Blackmoore is not far behind me. He stopped to speak with some acquaintances. I promise you I did not abandon him.” She looked at him in surprise. “I thought I should tell you so that you would not feel the need to instruct me on duty to a friend.”

  Mary opened her mouth to retort but closed it again as she saw the lopsided grin he wore.

  “Forgive me. I had hoped to take your mind off whatever or whoever has upset you. Perhaps my choice of topic was not the best, but what can one expect from an oaf?” He offered her his arm.

  “Partial oaf, my lord.” She placed her hand on his arm. “And, I am well.” She sighed. She must learn to deal more effectively with ladies such as Miss Bingley. Was there a master for such lessons as there was for dancing, drawing and singing?

  “If you wish such a lie to be convincing, you may wish to refrain from sighing next time,” said Rycroft softly. “Those three are not worth the discomposure, I assure you.”

  She glanced up at him. “But, how does one bear their barbs with composure?” As she said it, the answer came to her, and she shook her head at her own lack of thought, for it was an obvious answer. “I know how.”

  “You do?”

  She nodded. “I shall pretend they are my mother or my aunt or my younger sister. I have endured their comments for years. I shall smile and attempt to ignore them.”

  “Your mother and sister? They have been unkind to you?” The idea was surprising.

  “Surely you noticed their treatment of me.”

  He remembered how Mary had been required to complete tasks for them and how her suggestions were often dismissed. He remembered her sitting quietly along the wall or in a corner while the others commanded the attention of all who were near. “They are like that all the time?”

  She nodded. “Do not misunderstand me. I do love them, but they do not think before they speak.”

  “And they ignore you.”

  She laughed. “When I am so fortunate.”

  “Still,” he said softly, “I am sorry you have been treated so.”

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled at him and the ache in his heart, which had started when he saw her standing by the statue alone and obviously distraught, began to lessen.

  “Did you complete your drawing?”

  She shook her head. “No. Miss Bingley arrived.”

  “Do you wish to finish it? I can sit with you.” His smile held a bit of something wicked in it. “That would certainly make Miss Bingley displeased.”

  Mary chuckled. “While it might be enjoyable to vex her, it might provoke her more than displease her.”

  “Very well, we shall continue our tour and try not to provoke the ire of Miss Bingley or her friends.”

  It proved impossible, however, to accomplish such a feat. Miss Bingley as well as Miss Ivison and Miss Pearce conveyed very well through their mannerisms and slighting comments just what they thought of Mary, and it was not difficult to read the displeasure in their eyes when Rycroft and Blackmoore paid greater attention to Mary than to any of them. So, when it was time to leave, Mary sank with relief onto the carriage seat.

  “It becomes easier,” said Lady Sophia gently. “Not all women in the ton are so small minded as those three.”

  “How do they ever expect to get husbands?” asked Georgiana in surprise.

  Rycroft laughed. “They are not painful to look upon, and they do each have a fortune. There are men who require little else.”

  “If I were a man,” said Georgiana in indignation, “I am certain there would not be a fortune large enough nor a figure fine enough to tempt into marriage with a woman like that!”

  Rycroft smirked. “If you were a man in need of fortune and an heir, you might indeed find yourself tempted.” He put up a hand to stop her from retorting. “But, I agree. They offer nothing that would induce me to consider them either.”

  Georgiana crossed her arms and gave him a hard look. “And your friends? Do they agree with your way of thinking?”

  Rycroft’
s eyes darted toward Mary. He was certain Georgiana was asking in regards to Blackmoore. “I cannot speak for the motivations of my friends, but I have never heard them mention any of those ladies in a favourable light. None needs a fortune, though all need an heir, and a few need to make a connection that will be acceptable to their fathers.”

  “Acceptable in what way?” asked Georgiana.

  “That depends on the father, and it is not my place to say.”

  “If you cannot say, then how am I to know what a man finds acceptable in a woman? How does a lady secure a worthy husband if she does not know what men such as your friends find acceptable? Your friends are honorable, are they not?”

  “As honorable as any man of failings can be.” Rycroft shifted in his seat. It was not a comfortable topic for him to discuss, for his actions had not always been honorable, and he did know of some less than honorable activities in which a few of his friend partook. “I cannot speak to what all men want in a wife, for each man is as unique as each woman.”

  “Then, tell me what you will be looking for in a wife,” Georgiana persisted.

  “Yes,” said Lady Sophia, “I should like to know what you consider necessary, so that I can help you find such a wife.”

  Rycroft groaned and rubbed his brow. “It is not an easy thing to put in a list.”

  “Try,” said his mother.

  “Very well, but I warn you it shall sound trite. I wish for a companion. That is all. I wish for a lady who is more than a lover and the mother of my children, someone who understands me and can converse with me, who shares my beliefs and opinions and is not afraid to challenge me when we disagree, but she does so with grace and kindness.”