The Darcy Cousins

by Monica Fairview

  “You should not have tried to escape me,” he said, grinning. “You knew I would win at the end.”

  “But I did get away. Admit it,” said Athena. “You have to acknowledge that I had you for a moment.”

  “Only for a moment,” replied Channing.

  They returned to the others, and the game—whatever it had become, for it was no longer hide and seek—resumed.

  “You know, I am quite determined to have Mr Channing for Athena,” said Mrs Moffet suddenly.

  Georgiana stiffened. “I do not know why you are telling me this, Mrs Moffet. It is up to Mr Channing to choose the object of his interest, surely.”

  “True enough,” said Mrs Moffet quite good-naturedly. “But I think your cousin would not make him a good wife, and neither would you.”

  “I do not know what you mean,” said Georgiana faintly.

  “You will come to understand it well enough,” said Mrs Moffet. “He is not for you. He will suit my daughter far better. They have known each other for years, and she has his measure. You are too clever for him.”

  Not knowing what to make of this remark, and whether to take it as praise or discouragement, she did not reply. She hoped Mrs Moffet would enlighten her further. But Mrs Moffet had resumed her embroidery and had become quite absorbed by it. She brought it closer to her face and examined it carefully for flaws.

  Georgiana could not shake off the feeling that Mrs Moffet had given her a warning to stay away.

  ***

  Presently, tired of their games, everybody began to drift in their direction, since drinks had been set up next to them on a table for those who were thirsty.

  Clarissa came over to see how the sketch was progressing.

  “I like it,” she said. “Though I wish you had focussed on the ruins more. You have spent more time drawing us.”

  “Did you draw me?” asked Channing, coming over. “Let me see.”

  Georgiana waited for his verdict.

  “Very nice, you have captured me quite well,” said Channing. “Shall this be my copy?”

  “I cannot give you the original,” she replied. “I promised the sketch for Clarissa.”

  Channing seemed put out that she could deny him. He turned deliberately to Miss Moffet, who was standing next to him, and invited her to take a stroll with him.

  Georgiana could not help feeling that he had done it almost as a punishment.

  “You should not look so stricken,” whispered Clarissa, leaning over. “You are supposed to conceal your feelings, Georgiana. What did I teach you?”

  The reminder served its purpose. Georgiana sprung to her feet and headed towards Gatley.

  “I am thoroughly tired of being seated,” she said gaily. “I hope you will keep me company in a walk.”

  Mr Gatley, raising an eyebrow, answered politely that he would be more than glad to accompany her.

  Georgiana caught Channing looking in her direction. She was so anxious to prove to him that she was indifferent to his slight that she turned quite flirtatiously to Gatley.

  “I am still a little irked with you, Mr Gatley, you know.”

  “Indeed?” he replied. “I was not aware of having offended you.”

  “You may profess ignorance, but you surely remember our last encounter. I did not want to mention it in front of your mother, but I have not quite forgotten it.”

  It was quickly apparent that he had no idea to what she referred.

  “Surely you remember that I was quite cast down by your comment about my hat.”

  Gatley threw a quick glance at the wide-brimmed leghorn bonnet she wore.

  “Yes, I do remember,” he replied with a half-smile. “And now you are wearing one that is quite different. You see I am not quite as forgetful as all that.”

  “No, I did not think you could be. But tell me then: Do you like this one better?”

  “You must allow that I am not a good judge of ladies’ fashions, particularly when it comes to hats. I am sure your hat is very fashionable, for I have seen enough to know that enormous bonnets laden with fruits, flowers, and enormous feathers are quite the rage at the moment.”

  “That is what is called damning with faint praise,” remarked Georgiana, though secretly she agreed many of the hats were quite monstrous.

  “I prefer to remain neutral on the subject of female fashion.”

  “I can only conclude, in that case, that you believe a female should not follow fashion at all.”

  “That is not my meaning. One cannot be introduced into society in anything but the latest fashion. But from those fashions, a lady has some choice.”

  “Hardly, when the fashions are dictated by others.”

  “I shall try to explain what I mean. Do you think a dress looks as well on a modiste’s mannequin—no matter how perfectly proportioned the mannequin—as it looks on a real young lady, despite her imperfections?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “That is what I wish to say about your manner of dressing. You have tried to adopt a certain style which may look well on others, but since it is a style not your own, it lacks conviction.”

  “You are suggesting, then, that I am as lifeless as a mannequin?” she cried.

  “I am suggesting only that a style that is your own—no matter how simple—may sit better on you than the most elaborate costume, however expensive and fashionable it may be.”

  Since to Georgiana the word simple at the moment was very high on her list of detestable words in the English language, one could not expect her to be gratified by this statement.

  “Then you would condemn me to be dowdy, since that apparently seems to be my style.”

  Gatley stopped abruptly. Georgiana feared that she had pushed him so far. But he merely pointed his walking stick at a swan that was just then traversing the water. The water parted before it on both sides, and it glided majestically through, buoyant as air.

  “You see the swan, how simple, and how graceful its contours are. She is perfect as she is. Beyond those white feathers of hers, she needs no more ornamentation. Would you agree?”

  “Naturally,” said Georgiana.

  “Think then how different she would be if she happened upon a peacock, and struck with envy at its vibrant colours, determined to cover herself in colourful feathers as well. How would the swan then appear?”

  Georgiana was heartily tired of this conversation by now.

  “I believe you are about to tell me,” she remarked.

  “Yes, I will tell you. She will be ridiculous. She will neither be a swan, nor a peacock, nor anything else at all but a swan pretending to be a peacock.”

  “Very well, Mr Gatley,” she said, still trying to be playful, though she was sorely tempted to send him to the devil. “I will not ask your opinion about my hat another time if I am to be compared first to a mannequin, then to a swan masquerading as a peacock. It seems I am to be a figure of fun.”

  “You wilfully misunderstand me, Miss Darcy. You know very well that my intention is to compliment you. But I can see that you will not be content unless I am more direct.” He smiled. “I will paraphrase. What I meant to say is that you are quite beautiful yourself and require no decoration. Now are you satisfied?”

  Georgiana wished she could be satisfied. But Mr Gatley had placed so many qualifications on his praise, and had spoken in such a manner, that he had cast doubt on the very words he was expressing.

  She put up her chin in mock haughtiness. “I will accept your compliment, Mr Gatley,” she said with a little smile. But she could not resist teasing him. “It is far better, at any rate, than your moral tale about the swan.”

  Mr Gatley did not rise to the bait. His lips twitched in amusement, but he gave no answer.

  Chapter 19

  In the second week of June, as the Season reached
its height, an astonishing piece of news reached them.

  “I can scarcely credit it! Anne, of all people!” said Darcy, striding into the drawing room with a missive in his hand.

  “Another letter from Mr Collins?” enquired Elizabeth.

  “No. It is from my informants. We have definite and confirmed news of Anne.”

  Anne’s trail had been picked up once again, and it led to—Liverpool! Nothing could have been more startling. Her name, or one very similar—an Annette Burrows, who answered to her description exactly—appeared on the passenger list of a vessel that had sailed to Philadelphia nine days since. The same Annette Burrows had stayed at an inn close to the harbour, waiting for the ship to sail, for a few days, and had been seen by several witnesses who all described her in much the same way, including the numerous shawls she wore.

  Darcy paced the room as he read them the letter he had received. “I realise now that she has played us all for fools. Clearly she planned to go to Liverpool all along. She knew that none of the packet boats can predict their sailing schedule and that there are often delays because of merchandise or weather. I can only conclude that her appearance in York was a deliberate attempt to mislead us, so she would have the time to wait for the vessel to sail without being caught. It is very likely she booked her passage beforehand.”

  Georgiana struggled to reconcile her image of Anne with the person who had planned such an elaborate trick. She had already realised in Rosings that Anne was far more intelligent than she had supposed. She had certainly fooled everyone, including her mother, with her appearance of docility. Now it appeared she had fooled them even further.

  “But what would she do in the United States?” said Georgiana. “How will she manage, once she is there?”

  “I am sure if she was able to cook up the whole ruse, she is perfectly capable of managing once she is there,” said Elizabeth, “though I must own myself very surprised that she was capable of such a thing.”

  “How could she have done this to us?” said Darcy.

  “She did not do it to us,” said Elizabeth, “she did it to herself, and for herself. You do not enter the picture.”

  “But to be so inconsiderate—”

  “You have given her little consideration over the years,” said Elizabeth. “It does not surprise me that she would not consider you when she is making a bid for freedom.”

  ***

  A curious part of the human psyche is that the moment a person presumed to be in danger is discovered to be safe, everyone’s anxiety turns into anger. That, at least, was Georgiana’s experience. For now that she knew Anne had been safe all along, she became incensed at the callous way her cousin had led them by the nose. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. How could she have put them all through such turmoil, when she was in fact perfectly comfortable, and when she had know her plans all along? Georgiana and Clarissa had almost been forced to cancel their Season, while she was mocking them, probably congratulating herself on how clever she was.

  The anger soon burned itself out, however, particularly when Clarissa reminded Georgiana that Anne, after all, had had no choice. What else could she have done? She could hardly have informed them of her intentions beforehand, knowing that of course everyone would have intervened to prevent her. Yes, she had inconvenienced them a little, but it had not been that bad. It was more a question of the anxiety and uncertainty that they had experienced on her behalf. But that, surely, was nothing compared to Anne’s own uncertainty and fear that she might have been followed and caught.

  In any case, the definite knowledge that Anne was safe had a very positive effect and lifted the dark cloud that had hung over the young ladies’ entrée into Society. There was even talk of Elizabeth giving a ball. The number of activities the young ladies were allowed to attend now increased twofold, and they were introduced to so many new faces that Georgiana stopped being able to distinguish one person from the other. The entrance hall was filled with flowers, and Georgiana could begin to feel that she might be a success after all. Her new expanded list of invitations did not bring her into contact with Channing for some time—and she began to convince herself that she had quite forgotten about him.

  Then suddenly one night, she spotted the familiar flock of gold hair, and everything came back to her with a vengeance.

  He had only to lift a hand in greeting, and she was lost.

  Not for nothing, however, had she been attending one social event after the other. She had become far more accomplished by now at hiding her feelings. So when he made his way across the room towards her, she was able to retain the Imperial Pose and to receive him with an air of arrogant superiority.

  “Mr Channing, how nice to see you,” she said, her heart thudding. “I see you are alone, without your cousin. Where is Mr Gatley?”

  Channing did not look pleased. “I could ask the same of you. Where is Miss Clarissa?”

  Georgiana realised she had started on the wrong foot. She tried to set things right by referring to their last meeting.

  “I am very grateful to you for arranging the excursion to Waverley Abbey. I enjoyed it a great deal. I have since had the pleasure of re-reading the novel.”

  Channing shuddered dramatically. “Rather you than me,” he said. “I can think of nothing more tedious.”

  She was surprised. “But it was you who suggested the trip. I had thought you liked Waverley!”

  “You cannot really think I would have read it, Miss Darcy. There are so many other things I prefer to do,” he said. “Dancing, for example. You still owe me a favour, do you not? Will you put my name down for a dance?”

  Georgiana, who was beginning to be vexed by his offhand dismissal of her interests, forgot everything in the joy of finally being invited to dance with him.

  ***

  The next morning the townhouse at Berkeley Square received a caller. Gatley stopped by to let them know that he was arranging a trip to Richmond, and he wanted to be sure of Georgiana’s interest before going ahead with the arrangements. Georgiana agreed readily enough, especially after she heard that Channing was to be one of the party.

  Everything went as planned—except that Channing unexpectedly brought with him two friends of his; Miss Emily Parvis and Mr Walter Parvis. Georgiana did not particularly like Mr Parvis, but Clarissa had met him before and appeared to be quite friendly with him.

  It took forever to find a place that was dry enough for the older ladies to set up their chairs. It had rained the day before, so the grass was quite wet. The right spot, moreover, had to give the chaperones a clear view of the river, the bridge, and the embankment. But at last, everything was set up, and those who wished to hire the rowboats could finally go on their way. Both Elizabeth and Caroline expressed their readiness to join them on the river, but Mrs Gatley refused and said she would stay with her sister and Mrs Moffet.

  “It is too damp,” she said. “I prefer to sit here and watch you row around in circles.”

  This occasioned some protests, all the gentlemen immediately affirming their prowess at rowing. Mrs Gatley replied in an imperious tone that they had yet to prove themselves. Whereupon the young men set out, all eager to demonstrate their abilities.

  They hired three boats. An argument ensued, during which both Mr Moffet and Mr Parvis wanted to row. The agreement was only settled after Channing convinced his friend to come in the boat with him, and they could take it in turns to row. “For I plan to have the prettiest girls with me,” said Channing.

  Mr Moffet, very pleased with the outcome, carried the oars proudly, in the manner of one holding a trophy.

  “I have not been on a boat for a long time,” remarked Elizabeth with an uneasy little laugh, as she stood at the edge of the water. “I do hope I will not fall in.”

  This fearfulness was so unlike Elizabeth that Georgiana shot her a questioning glance.


  “I fell into the water once,” explained Elizabeth, “and I was soaked through. Since then I have avoided boats entirely. But it would be quite silly to avoid them forever, just because of one fall.”

  “If you have already fallen in once, then you have nothing to fear,” said Caroline, “for it is very unlikely that such a thing would occur twice in one’s lifetime.”

  “I have never fallen from a boat,” said Channing, “and I have been on a river endless times. All you need is a skilled oarsman, Mrs Darcy, I assure you, and there would be no chance at all of the boat tipping.”

  One would have thought that after such a remark, he would offer his services. Instead, he turned away and reached a hand out to help Clarissa climb in.

  Georgiana, who was standing expectantly right next to his boat, felt the slight like a physical blow. He did not even glance towards her.

  How long could she continue to delude herself? It was all so utterly useless. All her efforts to change and become different were completely futile. No one with a modicum of sense could avoid the obvious conclusion. Channing preferred Clarissa over herself—had done so from the beginning—and nothing she did or said would change that.

  Tears of frustration rose up in her eyes as Gatley, inevitably, extended his hand to her with a smile. She did not take it, still somehow hoping that Channing would invite her to join him. But Miss Moffet stepped daintily into Channing’s boat and took her seat there, followed by Mr Parvis. While she hesitated, Elizabeth joined Mr Moffet, after he assured her that he was a superb rower and that she could trust him not to let her fall. Miss Parvis then joined Elizabeth and Moffet.

  Georgiana could not refuse to ride with Gatley, not without openly snubbing him, could she?

  “Come, Georgiana,” said Caroline, seeing her hesitate and misunderstanding her reasons. “There is nothing to it.” As if to illustrate it, Caroline took Gatley’s hand and stepped in.