by Jann Rowland
“So you were not formally introduced,” said Darcy, deciding bluntness was the best way to deal with her. When she appeared surprised anew he clarified: “The usual protocol is for someone known to you both to introduce you. Where a family moves into a neighborhood, gentlemen of the neighborhood visit the newcomer and introduce themselves, then the families become acquainted through their auspices. My sister is not yet out, and has not, to the best of my knowledge, been introduced to you in such a setting.”
“In the instance in question, we took the onus on ourselves, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Gainsborough. “There was no one else to perform the office.”
“From that, I infer you have not made Georgiana’s formal acquaintance.” Darcy shook his head. “I am sure you mean well, Miss Gainsborough,” Darcy knew that was furthest from the truth, “but you will find the Darcy family prefers to follow the forms.”
“With that, I think the time for your visit has elapsed,” said Alexander. “Please come with me, Miss Gainsborough, for I shall escort you to your carriage.”
It seemed to Darcy the woman was more than a little shocked at her summary dismissal. She said her farewells to Georgiana in an affectionate manner, though she did nothing more than curtsey to Darcy. Then she exited the sitting-room when his brother bowed and motioned her toward the door.
Curious to see what Alexander planned, Darcy stepped from the room and followed them the short distance to the entrance hall. When they arrived there, he saw his brother lean down and say something to her, and from her pursed lips, it was clear she did not appreciate it, whatever it was. Having seen enough, Darcy returned to the sitting-room and stepped in, regarding his sister with a raised eyebrow, receiving a huff in reply.
“We exchanged a few words,” said Georgiana. “And the incident to which she refers occurred over two months ago!”
Darcy shook his head. “It is as I suspected. Whether her target was Alexander or me I know not, but it seems she seized on the excuse of your brief meeting to visit.”
“Oh, her ultimate target was you, of course,” said Alexander as he stepped into the room. “It is possible she might turn her attention to me if she knew you were unattainable, but she has always had her eye on the greater prize.”
Nodding, Darcy shook his head. “I am pleased you have seen that for yourself. Miss Gainsborough is the most conniving woman I have ever seen. Three months ago, she attempted to engineer a compromise with me. I gave her to understand I would not marry her even if she succeeded.”
Alexander laughed. “Then either she did not believe you, or she has turned her attention to me.”
“The latter, if I am any judge, though there may still be some hint of the former.” Darcy paused and peered at his brother, asking: “What did you tell her when she was leaving?”
“I reminded her not to return until she has properly made our sister’s acquaintance. Since I have no notion of that happening soon, I hope we will be free of her for some time.”
“Excellent,” said Darcy.
The siblings separated then to their various activities, Georgiana to the music room, while Alexander took himself to another part of the house. Darcy made his way to the billiard-room. As he played, he considered Miss Gainsborough, amused by the woman’s audacity. Though she was a pretty girl, not without charms, her devious nature repelled him; he would never marry such a woman. She was not at all like Miss Elizabeth Bennet—there was a woman who would never exert herself to such stratagems employed by the likes of Miss Gainsborough. And she was much prettier too.
Rain was not fun—or so the youngest Bennet told his sisters on several occasions.
“I wish it was not raining today,” whined Thomas, much to his sisters’ amusement.
“Do you not take your lessons at this time of day?” asked Mary, her pointed question delivered without taking her eyes from her book.”
“Yes,” replied Thomas, a hint of smugness in his tone as he added: “But Master Davies was ill this morning and allowed me to have the day to myself.”
“Much to our chagrin,” said Lady Margaret, fixing her youngest with a hard glare. “Though Master Davies may not be present to give you formal lessons, it does not follow you should be engaged in idleness and pestering your sisters, young man.”
“But Mother,” whined Thomas in a manner used by young children since the dawn of time.
“Perhaps we should find something to occupy our brother,” said Elizabeth. “I believe I would also benefit from an activity other than embroidery.”
“You never wish to embroider, Lizzy,” said Jane as Thomas darted forward with a whoop and hugged his sister with boundless enthusiasm.
“Yes, you are correct,” replied Elizabeth, embracing her brother while ensuring he avoided her needle. “But at present, I believe we could all do with a little fun activity. Shall we not join Thomas in his games for a time?”
Kitty and Lydia readily agreed, and while Jane and Mary were more reserved, they also affirmed their willingness. Mr. Bingley, who was visiting Jane, proclaimed it an excellent notion, even calling out several suggestions for games they play, and Mr. Collins informed them he had no objection to taking part. Their mother, unsurprising to anyone present, declined their invitation, leaving the room instead, saying she needed to speak with Mrs. Hill, their housekeeper. The most surprising agreement came from their uncle, who entered the room soon after Lady Margaret left it.
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” said he, rubbing his hands together. “Tell me, Tommy; what shall we play?”
Thomas thought for a moment, then raised his eyes to his uncle, saying: “Shall we not play sardines?” Then, with more enthusiasm added: “Yes, let us play sardines, for it shall be ever so much fun! I shall hide first!”
Though the rest of the adults looked at each other with some amusement, Thomas, eager to get on with the game, ran from the room, his voice floating back to them: “Count to fifty, then you may find me!”
“I think this may not be a good idea,” said Mary, her gaze falling on Mr. Bingley and Jane.
Though Jane blushed, the response came from Uncle Gardiner. “I believe we may dispense with the proprieties when playing a children’s game.” The gentleman paused and looked at the two couples—he included Mary and Mr. Collins in his scrutiny. “Should one of you hide and one of the gentlemen is the first to find you, I must insist on your good behavior.”
While Jane and Mary’s countenances bloomed in embarrassment, Elizabeth, Kitty, and Lydia were not reticent about voicing their amusement. Mr. Collins was quick to assure Mr. Gardiner, in a most serious fashion, he would never dream of taking advantage of Mary, who glared at her uncle, informing him she did not find his jesting at all amusing. It fell to Elizabeth to rescue them.
“Is it not now time to search for Thomas?”
They agreed and split up, each going to a separate part of the house to search for the youngest member of the family, though Elizabeth noted that Mr. Bingley and Jane exited in the same direction. Elizabeth, having played this game with her brother before, had some idea as to his favorite places to hide, and took herself above stairs to the family apartments. The first two places she checked revealed nothing, but the third—in his mother’s dressing room—yielded the young boy.
“Oh bother!” exclaimed Thomas when he saw her. “Why do you always find me so quickly, Lizzy?”
“Because you do not vary your favorite locations, dear brother,” replied Elizabeth, settling in with her brother behind a row of their mother’s dresses. “You must find new places to hide, for I believe I know all you use at present.”
Thomas grumbled but did not respond. Looking about, Elizabeth laughed a little and embraced him again, saying: “I hope Mama does not discover us in here, for I am certain she will not be pleased.”
“But we are playing a game!” protested Thomas.
“Do you believe Mama will make any distinction?” asked Elizabeth. Thomas frowned, and when he did not respond,
Elizabeth said: “Do not concern yourself, Thomas, for Mama may be unhappy, but the rest of us shall blunt her anger. Now, we should be quiet, for we shall be found if we do not.”
The others found them after a time, first Kitty, and then soon after Lydia. Jane then found them with Mr. Bingley in tow—given the wide eyes the gentleman sported, Elizabeth thought he never would have ventured into the mistress’s chambers regardless of the game had Jane not coaxed him in. Then Mr. Gardiner discovered them. After the gentleman’s arrival, they waited for some time until Mary came in and looked down on them with some disapproval.
“Mr. Collins will not enter this room,” said she, much to the younger girls’ amusement. “I am surprised Mr. Bingley and my uncle would.”
With a laugh, Elizabeth rose, followed by the rest of those hunkered down behind the clothing, and said: “Perhaps we should confine our game to the lower floor so all may participate.”
“That would be best,” said Mary, the asperity not gone from her voice.
When they all trooped outside Lady Margaret’s bedchambers, they found Mr. Collins waiting awkwardly, though there was no sign of Lady Margaret, for which they were all grateful. The new rules established, Mr. Collins—as the only one who had not found them—was sent off to hide, and he took himself downstairs, though it was clear he was embarrassed and unsure.
By the time they declared the game finished, Elizabeth thought they had all had a grand time. Mr. Collins’s hiding had been something of a failure, for he had chosen a spot behind a sofa in the sitting-room, a place which was quickly found and could not accommodate more than a few of them. But Thomas’s cries of joy every time they all came together again warmed their hearts and brought them closer together. Then Elizabeth ordered hot chocolate for them all, a treat only served on special occasions because of its scarcity and expense.
After the hot chocolate arrived and they were all nursing cups of the sweet, steaming liquid, they sat in the sitting-room chatting about their fun that afternoon. Thomas, Elizabeth noted, was concentrating on his treat, though she noticed his boundless energy was tempered, no doubt by the exertions of the day. Uncle Gardiner, who sat beside her, noted her look and chuckled as he sipped his drink.
“A good boy, your brother. Some day he will be a fine master of this estate.”
“He will be,” replied Elizabeth. “His birth was such a joyous occasion—my mother had despaired of ever bearing an heir for her husband.”
“We were all happy for her, though your father spoke many times of his contentment with having only five beautiful daughters.”
Elizabeth smiled at her uncle and turned her attention again to her cup. Uncle Gardiner was silent for a moment before speaking again.
“I see that Mr. Collins’s admiration of your younger sister has become more noticeable.”
Turning her smile on the couple, Elizabeth glanced at her sister, noting Mary in close conversation with their cousin. “Yes, I believe it has. Mr. Collins seems to lack a certain confidence when it comes to my sister, but I believe they are making progress.”
“It is the same for any man his age,” replied her uncle. “Though we all project confidence, there is still a hint of the little boy left in us, no matter what age we attain. There is always some fear that the woman we admire will reject us—it takes time for a man to gather his courage together.”
“Is that so?” asked Elizabeth with a laugh. “I will own I have seen nothing of it in Mr. Bingley.”
“Maybe not. But Jane has been far more open in her returning admiration than Mary. Your younger sister is not a woman who responds with anything other than the subtlest hints.”
“I suppose you must be correct.”
Uncle Gardiner nodded and sipped his chocolate. “He will make her a good husband when he gets up his courage to propose. Mr. Collins is a bit of a simple man, but he is a good man, one who will move heaven and earth to protect her.”
“That he will,” said Elizabeth. “Mr. Collins is exactly what Mary needs.”
They fell silent after that, but Elizabeth’s thoughts were not also quiet. As they all concentrated on the sweet liquid in their cups, she considered her sisters, noting the contrast in their courtships, their different relationships with their suitors. Both would find their happiness, she knew, and she could only hope she could find a man as devoted to her as Mr. Bingley and Mr. Collins were to her sisters.
The image of a tall man, dark and handsome, with an air of mysterious brooding flashed through Elizabeth’s mind, but she pushed it away. Such thoughts were nonsensical. Elizabeth did not need to hurry to search for her future spouse, for there was plenty of time to find him. Though she was certain she would soon inherit the title “Miss Bennet,” and her younger sister would follow their elder into matrimony, Elizabeth could feel nothing but the contentment of her situation.
Chapter XII
Miss Violet Gainsborough was not the only woman on the prowl trying to capture one of the Pemberley men. This was amply displayed the day after the rain ceased when the more common visitor imposed herself on Georgiana’s peace.
“Dear Georgiana!” exclaimed Miss Bingley as was her wont when Mrs. Reynolds showed her into the room. Georgiana did not miss the housekeeper’s disapproving glance at the woman, but as a good servant with extensive experience, she did not allow the guest to notice her censure. Georgiana smiled at her housekeeper, giving her permission to leave the room.
“How unfortunate was yesterday’s weather,” said the woman as she sat nearby, “for it prevented me from visiting you.” The woman paused and sniffed. “Charles spent the entire day at Longbourn, leaving me alone at Netherfield.”
‘Was your mother not there?” asked Georgiana in a show of innocence, avoiding the subject of the Bennets. “I had thought she had returned from Norfolk.”
“Yes, my mother was there, and I adore her so. But I longed to see you too. How have you been?”
“Very well, Miss Bingley.”
“And are your brothers about? I should like to pay my respects to them during my visit.”
“Oh, Alexander is about,” replied Georgiana, “but William had some business in Lambton this morning and informed us he would not return for some hours.”
As Georgiana might have predicted, Miss Bingley was put out by this news, though she attempted to brush it aside. “Then I suppose we must content ourselves with each other’s company. Shall we remove to the music room? Your playing is so divine, I should like to hear you again.”
They did not move to the music room, for Georgiana had no desire to endure Miss Bingley’s false praise that morning, for a morning in the music room would increase the level of flattery to near sickening levels. Instead, they remained in the sitting-room conversing; rather, Miss Bingley talked, and Georgiana listened more than anything else.
Though Georgiana would not call the woman completely shallow and conniving, she well knew that Miss Bingley’s exclamations of friendship were aimed at obtaining William’s good opinion. Georgiana thought Miss Bingley esteemed her on some level, but she could not imagine Miss Bingley visiting her if she did not have a handsome and eligible elder brother. When considering Georgiana’s more tender age compared with Miss Bingley’s status as a woman full-grown, she supposed the woman would prefer to be among others her own age. But the desire to obtain the position of Pemberley’s future mistress was always at the forefront of Mis Bingley’s thought, rendering the desire for friends her own age secondary.
They stayed in this attitude for some time, and as she ever did, Miss Bingley stayed past the time of normal visiting hours. Georgiana was reflecting on the benefits of reminding Miss Bingley of the time—she had long stopped paying much attention to the woman’s prattle—when Alexander found them.
“You have my apologies, Sister, for I did not know you had a visitor.”
Though Miss Bingley had looked up with hope and expectation when he entered, the opening of the door had not yielded the correct brother,
and she looked away a little crestfallen. That did not stop Alexander, who knew very well Miss Bingley’s purpose for being there.
“Good day, Miss Bingley,” said he and, stepping forward, he caught up her hand and bestowed a lingering kiss on its back. “It has been much too long, for I believe we have not met since the last assembly before I departed for London. I have missed having the pleasure of your company.”
Georgiana stifled a giggle at her brother’s overt flattery, though she attempted to send a glare in his direction. That Alexander ignored it was no surprise to Georgiana and she was far too amused to offer any protest.
“Well . . . That is to say, I am surprised by your perfect recollection, sir,” said Miss Bingley, her words becoming firmer though she stammered at first.
“Who could forget it?” asked Alexander. “It was a wonderful night, in particular, the dance we shared. Do you not agree?”
While Miss Bingley eyed him, Alexander returned her look with one of his own which Georgiana could only call smitten. Miss Bingley did not seem impressed by his display, for she turned to Georgiana, intent upon ignoring him.
“Have I told you of the party I attended at the Danforth estate last week? It was a most wonderful event, for Miss Danforth’s performance on the pianoforte is exquisite—almost the equal of your own.”
“Do tell,” said Alexander before Georgiana could form a response. “Perhaps she is excellent when sitting at the instrument, but I cannot call Miss Danforth anything other than dull otherwise. I should much rather speak of you, Miss Bingley.”
The woman blushed crimson, but she attempted to continue speaking of her recent experience. As she spoke, Alexander continued to interrupt, essaying little compliments designed to flirt with Miss Bingley, who was having no part of it. The longer she talked, however, the more frustrated Miss Bingley became, and a time or two she snapped back at Alexander’s obvious flirting, not that it deterred him.
After a time of this, the woman left the topic of the party and exclaimed: “What a fine thing it is to be at Pemberley today! You are blessed, Georgiana, for it is the dearest place in the world!”