Georgiana Darcy, Matchmaker

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Georgiana Darcy, Matchmaker Page 12

by Bronwen Chisholm


  “Already?” he asked nervously.

  “I hope Kitty will be well. I cannot believe Miss Lydia was being so cruel to her.” I continued, turning the subject as we made to enter the room. Fitzwilliam appeared to hesitate, but followed me without another word.

  “Oh, Mr. Darcy!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed as we entered and she eyed his bandaged hand. “I must apologize again. I cannot imagine how this could have happened. Please, take a seat here. Hill has brought fresh tea with willow bark to ease your discomfort.” She poured a cup and handed it to me. I carried it to Fitzwilliam and joined him on the settee.

  Mr. Bingley looked up, as though just noticing his friend’s return. “I say, Darcy, I suppose we should return to Netherfield.” Reluctance was clear in his voice and countenance.

  “Unfortunately, Mr. Bennet has insisted I remain. He fears I will be unable to ride with my injured hand.” He held the offending limb up for his friend to see.

  “Oh,” Mr. Bingley appeared puzzled. I wondered if he would mention having seen Fitzwilliam ride with one hand in the past, but then his eyes grew brighter. “Yes, of course, how foolish of me. Mr. Bennet is a wise man; it would be best that you not ride.”

  “No, no,” Mrs. Bennet quickly agreed. “I believe you both must stay for dinner. Perhaps the bridge will be mended by then and you may take the carriage back to Netherfield.”

  “May we send one of your stable boys to learn of the progress?” Mr. Bingley asked.

  “Of course!” Mrs. Bennet rang for Hill who appeared almost instantly. “Hill, send Samuel to see how things are progressing on the bridge. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy shall be joining us for dinner.”

  “Yes, mum.” Hill curtseyed and left the room. It appeared I was the only one who noticed the smile crossing the woman’s countenance as she closed the door.

  Chapter Twelve

  I entered the dining room at Longbourn, dressed in my own gown, with my arm linked through Kitty’s. The host and hostess were already by their seats. I was amused and smiled inwardly to myself. Mrs. Bennet was speaking animatedly to Mrs. Annesley on her left. I watched as Mr. Bingley escorted Jane to the table and held her chair for her to sit beside my companion. When Mr. Bingley slipped into the seat beside her, Kitty nudged me and we giggled softly.

  “Mr. Darcy, I believe I must apologize. I fear your sister’s time amongst my silly daughters may be having a less than desirable affect upon her.” Mr. Bennet motioned toward the chair to his left as Elizabeth took her normal seat on his right.

  Fitzwilliam claimed the offered chair and smiled in my direction. “I am pleased to hear Georgiana laugh again. She has been in poor spirits for some time now. I doubt a few days with your lively family will completely undo her years of training.”

  “Oh no, I can only attribute your lack of concern to a diminished understanding of the gentler sex. Take the word of a man surrounded by the fair creatures; sense and rationality are more novelty than habit.” He winked at Elizabeth, who shook her head but said not a word.

  Kitty pulled earnestly upon my arm and quickly led me to the chairs closest to Mrs. Bennet’s end of the table. A moment later, Mr. Collins took the place beside me with Mary on his other side next to Fitzwilliam. I was disappointed not to be sitting between the younger Bennet sisters, but pleased my brother would not be overwhelmed with Mr. Collins’ presence.

  Something was odd about the dining room this evening, but I was unable to determine what it may be. The inhabitants were genial and quiet conversations abounded, but something was amiss. I took a deep breath and the distant smell of roasted pheasant tantalized my hunger. Distant? I looked to the sideboard, but saw only a few covered dishes there.

  With my brow creased in confusion, I glanced toward Mrs. Hill who stood near the doorway as though awaiting a cue, her eyes trained on the master of the house. I followed her gaze and found that man smiling mysteriously.

  “Mr. Collins,” he said as his lips twitched suspiciously. “Shall we have the blessing?”

  The gentleman to my right startled, obviously unaccustomed to Mr. Bennet’s ready acquiescence. He mumbled his assent, stood, and began another recitation of the many reasons for thanksgiving. I knew I should lower my head, and I did, as far as possible while still maintaining a view of my host and his housekeeper.

  Kitty again began leaning heavily against me and others seemed to sway as the Rector continued in a droning manner. A motion from Mr. Bennet caught my attention, bringing me back to full awareness, and I saw Mrs. Hill slip from the room. When Mr. Collins finally said his amen, for what seemed to be hours later, though it was only minutes, Mrs. Hill reappeared with several servants carrying steaming platters to the sideboard.

  I found it difficult not to laugh aloud. They had finally found a way to serve a hot meal. She glanced about the table, but Elizabeth appeared to be the only Bennet to notice. Her head was bent and she was whispering to her father who nodded as his grin widened.

  Though amused by their interchange, I slowly felt a growing unease and looked about the room once more. After counting places a second time, I realized Miss Lydia was not amongst us. With wide eyes, I turned toward Mr. Bennet. He met my gaze with a kind smile before responding to a question from Fitzwilliam.

  My brow drew together in concern and I leaned toward Kitty. “Lydia is not here,” I whispered.

  Kitty looked at me oddly before lowering her eyes to her lap. “She is in her room.” My friend’s voice was so low I could barely hear it. “Papa was forced to take action against her.”

  “But do you not share a room with her? Are you not afraid she shall seek revenge on you for speaking against her?”

  “Lydia is being moved back to the nursery which is Mary’s room. Mary and I shared Lydia’s and my room before, until Lydia demanded they switch.”

  “So she shall have a room to herself? I would think that should please her very much.” I was undecided if Lydia was truly being punished.

  A slight flicker of mischief entered my friend’s eye as she shook her head. “Lydia hates being alone and the room is very small. She shall be quite miserable, I assure you. Papa says that if she is going to behave like a child, she shall return to the nursery and there she shall remain until she can do better.”

  I glanced about to see how everyone was reacting to Miss Lydia’s banishment, and saw Mrs. Hill step quietly up between Mr. Bennet and Fitzwilliam. She leaned over and spoke softly so I was unable to hear what was said. I watched as my brother nodded and then glanced in my direction.

  “My dear, I have glad tidings,” Mr. Bennet called to his wife. “The bridge leading to Netherfield has been repaired. There shall be no delay to Mr. Bingley’s ball.”

  “Oh, how wonderful!” Mrs. Bennet gushed, but when her eyes fell upon me, her enthusiasm waned. “Oh, but that means you and your companion shall return to Netherfield, Miss Darcy. We have so enjoyed your company. I am loath to see you go!””

  Before I could respond, my brother cleared his throat. “I am certain my sister has enjoyed her time here at Longbourn, and you shall all be together in a few days at Netherfield. Georgiana will be attending the first half of the ball, though she will not be dancing.”

  “That is good to hear,” Mr. Bennet smiled in my direction. “She will be able to keep Kitty company as Lydia will not be attending the ball.”

  “Not attend?” Mrs. Bennet asked. “Why ever not? The officers will be so disappointed. My Lydia adores a ball! She will be greatly missed. I cannot have that! No, Mr. Bennet I think –“

  “We will discuss it later, Mrs. Bennet.”

  I was as surprised as my hostess by the finality in Mr. Bennet’s voice. I saw her open her mouth to respond, but a severe glance from him caused her to close it again. The Bennet sisters sat in stunned silence staring at their mother as she returned to her conversation with Mrs. Annesley. Even I, in the short time I had known her, could not explain Mrs. Bennet’s easy submission to her husband, though I had never seen that man l
ook so displeased either.

  The dinner ended with little excitement. Mary was able to consistently deflect Mr. Collins’ attempts to flatter Fitzwilliam; though I was not so blessed. After hearing his thoughts on Anne De Bourgh’s grace and beauty repeated twice, I adopted a partial smile and nodded whenever it appeared appropriate. Kitty did assist when possible, but the man rarely paused to draw breath and therefore, aside from rudely interrupting him, there was little else I could do.

  Once the final course was finished, Mrs. Bennet rose and led the ladies into the drawing room. As the door closed behind us, she took Jane’s hands and squealed happily. “Oh, Jane! Mr. Bingley barely noticed anyone else at the table this evening. I am certain he shall propose!”

  “Mama,” Elizabeth spoke cautiously. “You cannot know his mind. Please do not assume that it shall be.”

  “Oh, little you know, Lizzy. You and your father and Mr. Darcy had your heads together discussing who knows what. You were not paying attention as I was.” She squeezed her daughter’s hands once more. “Five thousand a year and Netherfield so nearby! Oh, I shall go quite distracted!”

  “Mama, please,” Jane begged. “I would not want Mr. Bingley to believe I would marry him solely for his fortune.”

  “Well of course not,” Mrs. Bennet scoffed. “Your dispositions are exceedingly well suited. But is it not grand that he is a gentleman of such standing? Oh, I was sure you could not be so beautiful for nothing!”

  The Bennet sisters, nearly as one, released sighs as their mother continued with her effusions. Mary motioned for me to join her at the pianoforte and I willingly followed.

  “Poor Jane,” Mary whispered as she straightened the sheets of music before us.

  I frowned. “Does she not like Mr. Bingley?”

  “Oh, no, I am certain she is on her way to being deeply in love with him; but Mama’s behaviour can be … Well, would you wish to live so near such a woman? I fear, should Jane and Mr. Bingley wed, Mama will be always at Netherfield. Were Mr. Bingley wise, he would end the lease and look elsewhere to establish himself.”

  Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands together in delight. “Oh, and this will throw you girls in the way of other rich men! I shall have all my daughters married and well settled. Oh what a fine thing!”

  “Thank Heaven I shall be away from here,” Mary muttered under her breath.

  “Wherever shall you go?” I asked before realizing she had not meant for me to hear the comment.

  Mary’s countenance reddened as she stared at her hands.

  “Forgive me, Mary, it was impolite to ask.”

  “No,” she shook her head and looked up. “I simply do not wish Mother to know. She has encouraged Mr. Collins to pay his addresses to Lizzy, even though it is clear your brother much prefers her.” Her hand flew to her lips and her brow rose. “Oh, I did not mean …”

  I laughed as I reached out a hand to Mary. “No, it is well. I believe you are correct regarding Fitzwilliam’s feelings. He has even taken actions to improve her opinion of him. Do you think Elizabeth might welcome his attentions?”

  We turned and studied the lady who sat beside her eldest sister, lending her support and making every attempt to quiet their mother. “Should Mr. Bingley propose to Jane, I imagine Lizzy will often be in their company. As your brother is a close friend to Mr. Bingley, they would frequently be together. Perhaps, if Lizzy is able to swallow her pride, she will realize that Mr. Darcy is most likely the only man who will accept her impertinent manner.”

  “Do you truly see your sister so poorly?”

  Eyes wide in innocence, Mary looked at me. “Oh no! I love my sister, but her faults are plain to see. She would admit them herself, if asked, and often has. I doubt many men would want a wife so outspoken, but your brother seems to appreciate it. Had he not insulted her, I am certain they would already be courting.”

  Uncertain how to respond as I knew my brother possessed his own pride which could interfere in such a courtship, I decided to redirect the conversation. “But you said you were pleased you would not be here.”

  The door opened and the gentlemen entered the room as the ladies stood. “No,” Mary whispered determinedly, “I am doing what I must to secure my future. Now, shall we play the duet we practiced?” A pleasing smile crossed her lips as she looked across the room. “Mr. Collins, will you not turn the pages for us?”

  ***********

  As the Darcy carriage pulled away from Longbourn, I stared across at my companions. Mr. Bingley’s lovesick expression was highly amusing, but my brother’s brow, creased in deep thought, concerned me.

  “Though I am pleased to be returning to Netherfield, I shall miss the Bennets exceedingly,” I said to Mrs. Annesley.

  “Oh, indeed. They are such a loving family; willing to share their home and table with any in need. I doubt there are a dozen families of the ton who would welcome unexpected guests in the open and caring manner in which they do. Mrs. Bennet may be a bit officious, but I choose to see it for what it is; a woman who only wishes the best for those she loves.”

  Fitzwilliam and I stared at her, both of us shocked that the normally quiet woman would speak her opinion so plainly. Before either of us could respond, Mr. Bingley released a sigh followed closely by a deep chuckle.

  “Most assuredly. I cannot imagine a more loving mother.”

  “Bingley, have you lost your senses? You would consider Mrs. Bennet an excellent mother-in-law?” Darcy suddenly sat forward and turned an amazed expression upon his friend.

  “A sight better than your aunt, I am certain.” Mr. Bingley chuckled again, but his humour dispelled when he caught Fitzwilliam’s eye. “Forgive me, old man. I meant no disrespect. I would simply prefer a wife with a loving, doting mother in contrast to the demanding, calculating society mothers I see in town. Tell me you do not feel the same.”

  A derisive snort escaped Fitzwilliam as he settled back against the squabs. “I begin to fear for you, Bingley. Mrs. Bennet is just what the mothers of society are, only with far less sophistication.”

  “Perhaps she would treat you better had you not insulted her daughter,” Bingley challenged.

  Even in the now dimly lit carriage, I could sense my brother’s embarrassment. “I believe Mrs. Bennet would be more favourable toward you should she know you apologized, Brother. Perhaps Mr. Bennet will enlighten her when they speak regarding Miss Lydia.”

  “You apologized?” The incredulity in Bingley’s voice startled me.

  “But of course he did. Why would he not? Once he knew Elizabeth had heard him, my brother could not avoid apologizing.” Unfortunately, my confidence dwindled as I spoke, and my voice reflected my uncertainty.

  “I doubt he was unaware at the time of the occurrence. I believe the entire room knew of the insult before we left that evening. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth were in each other’s company many times in the following weeks and this is the first I have been made aware of an apology.” Bingley crossed his arms as though waiting for his friend to dispute him.

  “Perhaps I do not reveal everything to you.” The moonlight fell across Fitzwilliam’s lap, revealing his hands tugging at his gloves as he stared out the window.

  Bingley huffed, but turned his attention to the passing trees on his side of the equipage. We rode in silence the remainder of the way; dismounting quickly once the door was opened.

  “I believe I shall retire early,” Fitzwilliam said to all and none as we entered. “I fear my injured hand has made me unsuitable for company.”

  “Oh, Brother, does it hurt terribly?”

  His expression softened as he saw my concern. “No, Georgie, but it does ache. I shall have my man, Preston, see to it.”

  “May I accompany you? I wish to see to your comfort, Fitzwilliam.”

  He leaned forward, conspiratorially. “You mean you wish to speak to me privately.” I nodded and he released a soft sigh. “Very well. Allow me a few minutes to change and come to my room.”

  I nodd
ed once more and allowed Mr. Bingley to escort me to the drawing room where Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst sat. I endured the ladies’ commiseration over being trapped at Longbourn until I felt enough time had passed, and excused myself saying I would retire early.

  Climbing the stairs slowly, I debated what to say to Fitzwilliam. I had been so certain things were improving between him and Elizabeth. Reviewing the evening, I was able to determine it was when the men rejoined the ladies that his demeanour had changed. What might have been said while we were not in the room?

  Chapter Thirteen

  I stood before my brother’s door, hand raised to knock, yet I hesitated. My mind continued to race over the events of the day, before quickly returning to Fitzwilliam. What shall I say to him? In my distraction, I barely noticed the door opening until the object of my reflection stood before me.

  “Fitzwilliam!” I startled from my thoughts.

  He took my raised hand in his own and led me into the room. “I wish to retire, Georgie, else I would have waited to see how long you would have remained in that position.” His eyes flashed with amusement and I relaxed.

  My gaze fell to his freshly wrapped hand. “Are you much improved now that Preston has tended your injury?”

  “Somewhat.” He crossed to the set of chairs before the fireplace and waited for me to sit before he took his place in the companion. “What did you wish to discuss, Georgiana?”

  “I could not help but notice your change of spirits following dinner. I was concerned something occurred after we ladies left the room.” Though avoiding his direct gaze, I watched my brother surreptitiously.

  He stared into the flames as he turned his signet ring ever so slightly. After doing so for some time, he took a deep breath and turned toward me decidedly. “I am aware you believe I should offer for Miss Elizabeth. I see your reasoning; she does seem to draw me out of my normally quiet ways. She is intelligent and quick witted.” A small smile played about the corners of his lips. “I can well imagine she would be a challenge to any society matron.”

 

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