Mendacity and Mourning

by J. L. Ashton

  Darcy gave his sister a soft smile. So many questions, only half of which I can answer. He recognised that she had lived under the Fitzwilliams’ roof for some weeks now, and being an intelligent girl, he had anticipated her suspicion that their aunt and uncle knew nothing about this new friend. In fact, he had to ask for Georgiana’s help in this subterfuge.

  “As I mentioned, Miss Bennet is visiting her aunt and uncle, and she has been to the menagerie. When I saw her sisters at Netherfield a few days ago, they made reference to how delighted she was to see the wild animals.” Darcy glanced at his sister. “When I unexpectedly encountered her yesterday, I enquired as to her interest in showing us her favourites. She was well-informed about the flora and fauna around Netherfield and her own estate.”

  Georgiana nodded. “She is a new acquaintance, then, who has met the Bingleys?” She paused a moment. “Does she claim Miss Bingley as a friend?”

  Darcy cleared his throat. “Um, I believe she would refer to Miss Bingley as an agreeable acquaintance.” He wondered how much to say. “Her elder sister, Jane, has formed a stronger friendship, I believe, due to Charles’s interest. Have I mentioned he is courting her?”

  “Oh yes,” Georgiana sighed. “Is Jane…the sister…is she beautiful and blonde?”

  She knows Charles far too well. “Yes, she is, Petal. Miss Jane Bennet is quite handsome.”

  “So you have noticed as well?”

  “Only when asked by Charles,” he replied a bit irritably.

  “And Miss Elizabeth?”

  “Lovely as well, but with darker colouring. In her hair and eyes,” he quickly added, not wishing his sister to think Elizabeth a country girl tanned by the sun, though of course she was. “She enjoys walking a great deal.”

  “She sounds interesting, unlike the girls and ladies in town. If she is not often in London, is she not among the countess’s acquaintances?”

  “No, dear. Miss Elizabeth is but a few years older than you are, and I should think she would make you a fine friend. She is very kind to her sisters.”

  “Sisters? She has more than the one? How happy she must be!”

  Darcy turned away to hide his expression. Elizabeth’s sisters were, to borrow Georgiana’s phrase, “interesting.” He knew little of the serious one who never spoke. The younger two were more high-spirited than was truly proper but cleverer than he had first assumed. “I believe her to be a happy person. I think you will enjoy her company.”

  His sister gazed at him intently, tilting her head as though considering his words. “I hope so, Fitzwilliam. I will follow your direction as to what I might tell Aunt about our excursion.”

  ***

  Elizabeth watched from her window as the Darcy carriage pulled up to the Gardiners’ home. She looked closely at the tall man who emerged from the fine equipage, wondering how he would react to the modestly sized but neatly maintained house. His expression gave nothing away, which neither pleased nor angered her. She observed his careful handling of his sister as he guided her to the door. The girl Mr. Wickham said was locked away, too forward with her attentions, and delicate in the head. She peered more closely. The girl was decidedly cowed by the neighbourhood, she decided. Or by her brother. Or perhaps it was by fear of meeting a stranger who would show her creatures of the wild. The idea that she, Lizzy Bennet of Longbourn, was supposed to be an expert observer of the animal kingdom made her smile.

  It took but a moment after they were introduced for Elizabeth to disregard everything Wickham had claimed. She recognised Georgiana’s resemblance to her own sister: quiet in company and kind-hearted, as evidenced by her shy delight that young Henry Gardiner eagerly wished to join them on their jaunt. The boy was immediately enthralled by the young woman, and he called Georgiana “the golden-haired princess.” Elizabeth could see that his fixed adoration enchanted her. Speaking to Henry seemed to alleviate much of her nervousness and lessen her need to look to her brother for guidance.

  During their carriage ride, Henry puffed out his chest and asserted that he knew all the best views in the menagerie and would show them to Miss Darcy. He looked to Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy for approval. The man nodded his assent at his sister’s besotted, waist-high suitor, as did Elizabeth.

  At their destination, Darcy helped the ladies from the carriage and fell into step with Elizabeth. She knew she was in trouble when he leaned over and shared his observation on the burgeoning friendship between their young companions.

  “Does Henry play chess and read books in trees?”

  Elizabeth looked up at him in surprise.

  “Pardon me,” Darcy said quickly. “Please know that I admire that story of your childhood.” Seeing her wry smile, he went on. “I have a confession to make. The first time I saw you in Meryton, you were with Henry and his brother, discussing butterflies.”

  She gazed away from him, deep in thought. “Yes, I recall giving them a small lecture on allowing the poor creatures a few more days to flutter in the breeze.” Her eyes moved to his. “You witnessed this?”

  “I was riding into town. You were laughing, and the boys’ father came to join your group.”

  “I remember now. You were on horseback. That was my Uncle Gardiner.”

  Darcy sighed. “Yes. I…I have learned that I made a grave mistake. Together, you all formed such a happy portrait that I misunderstood.” He breathed in deeply. “I took you…I thought you to be his wife, or rather, due to the boys’ ages, his betrothed.”

  Elizabeth froze. “My uncle?”

  He nodded, his cheeks reddened. “I apologise. You were so familiar and happy.”

  “You thought us engaged? My uncle and I? That we were a family?”

  So he was truly confused; it was not Mr. Bingley who misunderstood. How disappointing. I thought him smarter. Her shock faded into mirth. “Oh, to have thought such a thing! My uncle and aunt will be so amused.”

  “Must you tell them?”

  “I think I must.”

  “Your father as well?” Mr. Darcy looked chagrined. “He will use it against me in the future. I will never again best him in chess.”

  In the future? Her thoughts muddled, wondering exactly when Mr. Darcy had determined she was not in fact betrothed. Elizabeth glanced away and watched Henry pull Georgiana towards the cage with the two monkeys.

  “Henry is not the tree climber in the family. That would be his younger brother, Thomas.”

  Darcy smiled softly. “I meant it in fun as it seems another friendship is born between our families.”

  “Yes, your sister is all kindness to an inquisitive little boy.”

  “She is pleased to make his acquaintance—and yours, of course. Georgiana has little experience with young children but enjoys their company. She has had less freedom to make new friends of late.”

  “Although she has been in London, surrounded by society?”

  “Um, yes. My aunt and uncle are often in society, but this is an unusual time for them to be in town. They have business here.”

  “With solicitors and the like, with your other aunt?” Elizabeth knew she was on the precipice of rudeness, but there were so many pieces missing from her understanding of this man.

  “Yes.” He clearly did not wish to discuss what appeared to be an endlessly complicated family. Watching his expression, which stiffened whenever he looked towards the passing throng, Elizabeth again wondered about his ephemeral moods. He could be kind to her and her family but then turn formal and distant in a flash.

  Mayhap, he was uncomfortable walking alone with her, and they should move closer to Henry and Georgiana. He was not a man used to public excursions with eligible young ladies; he was more accustomed to meeting ladies at private estates. Yet, Elizabeth realized his current actions would indicate the opposite—he did not hide the fact that they walked together a
s a couple. She had seen the tipped hats and fluttering eyelashes that greeted the gentleman; he was recognised wherever he went but did not deign to speak to any of his peers and devotees. It was a bit dizzying to watch him in his element.

  Was he always this way, and our comfortable conversations at Longbourn were out of character? Why could this man not be simple to understand? Why had he been to his aunt’s estate? To grieve a dead woman or to visit a lady he might marry?

  As they neared the tiger’s cage, she watched Henry gesturing wildly to Georgiana and heard her excited cry. Elizabeth glanced up at Darcy and gave him a solemn look as he watched the animal yawn.

  “It is magnificent,” he said quietly.

  “He is indeed a fearsome and beautiful sight from a distance.” The animal’s eyes rose to hers and began to pace.

  “Mr. Darcy, I believe this creature reminds me of you. He dislikes his cage and the stares of the people who are fascinated by him. You dislike the city at this time of year and wish for your estate where the people know and respect you.”

  Darcy’s eyes widened, and he chuckled as they stood in front of the large cat’s prison. “Me akin to that creature? I will not speak to my preference for places where I am respected, but I do favour Pemberley, where things are familiar and the skies are clear. The city is quite foul.”

  “Indeed, the country is preferable no matter the time of year.”

  He took a breath. “He is a fine-looking animal, so handsome yet so terrible in his savagery.”

  “Yes.” Elizabeth’s eyes shifted from the pacing cat to the man beside her. She felt a slight softening towards Darcy, and she prepared to ask after his visits to Kent and Warwickshire before realising she had lost his attention. His eyes, searching out his sister, had fallen on a young man who appeared to be approaching Georgiana and Henry. He stiffened and began to move in their direction.

  The gentlemen handed Georgiana an item, bowed, and moved away.

  “Georgiana!” Darcy hastened to her side. “What was that about?”

  She turned and looked up at her brother, a frightened expression on her young face. “I…I dropped one of the soldiers Henry had given me. I put them in my purse, but I had dropped one.”

  When her brother remained silent, Georgiana said in a pleading voice, “Fitzwilliam, please. That is all that occurred.” He nodded, expelled a breath, and squeezed her hand.

  “Are these redcoats or navy men, Henry?” he asked, kneeling in front of the boy.

  “Oh, redcoats, but I would like navy men, sir. My father has everything in his warehouses, all from the big ships.” Henry gestured with his arms wide, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “I would like a giraffe as well,” the boy continued, “but Mama says we cannot fit one into our house. They live in deepest Africa.”

  Before Darcy could reply, Henry turned and pointed. “The peacock is over there, miss! It has such fine feathers. Come, Lizzy!”

  The small group began moving towards the bird, Henry leading Georgiana by the hand.

  “I should never leave her side,” Darcy murmured softly. Elizabeth heard his words and turned to see the dark expression on his face. She appreciated his protective nature towards his sister, but how sheltered had the poor girl been? The man seemed to enjoy her friendly, expansive nature but feared it in his sister? It was as she had suspected: the Darcys were intent on a day out amid London’s dangers and savage animals, chaperoned by the amiable country folk.

  ***

  Darcy regained his senses and asked a few questions on the animals they had yet to see. As he listened to Elizabeth’s recital of facts and impressions, Darcy wondered whether his mood was affecting his sense of the lady beside him. He was perplexed by her behaviour. Their conversation, so easy at Longbourn and Netherfield, was strained. She seemed cooler and more formal than before. Where was the friendliness, the open humour he adored?

  Was she shy at seeing him again? She seemed uncomfortable and only a little amused by his confession of his former confusion. He had been mired in thoughts of marriage and his need for a wife when he had laid eyes on her with her cousins and formed an erroneous idea in his head. A foolish, ridiculous idea.

  He hoped she would see the levity in his mistake. Was she perhaps insulted that he had thought her suitable for an older gentleman? He must convince her otherwise—that, in fact, he found her suitable only for himself. If his frustration was not spent, his patience was at an end. He must speak.

  Her voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “Were your travels fruitful in Warwickshire?”

  Fruitful? Puzzled by her question, Darcy agreed only that he enjoyed his visit. “But I was happy to leave and return briefly to Netherfield. My friend is quite happy in his courtship.”

  “As is my sister.” Elizabeth smiled, and he felt more at ease. “I need never wonder of Jane’s whereabouts. Her happiness fills the air wherever she goes.”

  “As does Bingley’s.”

  “Miss Bingley has proven more amenable to the relationship.”

  “Has she? She did appear more cordial when I saw her the other day.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “I believe my younger sister Kitty is owed for that. She believes Miss Bingley to be the arbiter of all that is wise and beautiful.”

  “Wise and beautiful?” His gaze drifted to her, and he willed her to notice while fearing she would. “An enviable combination.”

  “Or so thinks her acolyte,” she said in an arch tone. “Four sisters around her, and Kitty finds her perfect lady in Miss Bingley. Jane finds her perfect man in Mr. Bingley. There simply are not enough Bingleys to go around.”

  She sighed dramatically. They shared a look and smiled.

  She is so lovely.

  “I believe Georgiana may have found her acolyte in Henry.” Darcy gestured at the two sitting on a bench deep in conversation.

  “Mr. Darcy, you have already misjudged one Gardiner’s felicity. Beware of another mistake.”

  Biting his lip, he noted the arched brow above flashing eyes. “Acknowledged, Miss Elizabeth.”

  “Henry loves his mama, of course, but he confides his secrets to his rocking-horse, and his tin soldiers follow him everywhere.”

  Darcy smiled shyly. “My mother said the same of me and my soldiers. At least one was always sitting atop our supper table in danger of falling into the soup.”

  Elizabeth returned his smile. “The fancies of young boys differ greatly from young girls. I wonder how the conversation at our table at Longbourn might have been altered had we a brother or two. My father would appreciate far less talk of lace.”

  “I think you would have liked a brother,” Darcy said gently, “with whom you could climb trees and debate clouds.”

  Elizabeth looked up quickly, her cheeks red. “I did have Charlotte and her brothers for the tree climbing, but you are the first to have engaged me in the scientific consideration of clouds.”

  “As you are for me.” He stared intently at her.

  “Mr. Darcy, I wonder if you have read—”

  Suddenly, Henry was at her side, wailing. “Lizzy, a bee has stung me!”

  Georgiana joined them, distraught and beset by guilt. “Poor Henry. The bee wanted his sweet. I am so sorry I gave it to you, Henry.”

  Elizabeth knelt and enveloped the boy in a hug. He showed her the red spot on his hand. “I think we had best go home, Henry. We can pull out the stinger and find you a bit of ice.”

  “No, I am well, Lizzy. Truly.” The boy sniffed. “May I have a lemon ice?”

  Darcy waited for Elizabeth’s nod before assuring Henry that a lemon ice would cure all ills. He smiled, led the group to a bench, and strode off quickly to a vendor.

  “I am so sorry, Miss Bennet,” Georgiana said. “It is quite late in the season
for bees, and I did not see it buzzing about us when I gave Henry some honey candy.” Georgiana stopped and bit her lip. “I apologise. I should have asked you if he could have sweets.”

  Elizabeth laughed and gave the girl a reassuring pat on the arm. “I am his cousin, not his mother. You are his friend. What is the joy of an adventure with a small boy if not to spoil him? He is well, and this is a fine day—bee or no bee.”

  Georgiana returned her warm smile. “It truly is.”

  “And you must call me ‘Lizzy.’”

  ***

  The Darcys dined with their aunt and uncle that evening; Georgiana’s presence ensured lighter conversation and no mention of the de Bourgh disaster. Instead, their aunt questioned Darcy on the young ladies he had encountered at the Hadley estate and those he might meet when he visited the duke and duchess. He hesitated, unsure whether to disclose his cancellation of those plans.

  “I had thought, with so much else transpiring, that I instead should attend to affairs at Pemberley.” He noticed the shift in Georgiana’s posture.

  “Darcy, you must go to Marlbourn,” his aunt insisted. “Propriety demands it, and you must make a marriage—soon.”

  Georgiana gasped, and her brother immediately understood her fear. “Petal, this is not about you. It is about the impatience of your aunt and uncle to see a wedding for your wayward brother.”

  She stared at him, eyes wide.

  Richard smiled at his anxious cousin. “Your brother speaks the truth, Georgiana. My parents are tired of us old men rattling about and dilly-dallying in choosing our brides. My mother misses cooing babes in her arms.”

  Georgiana nodded and broke contact from her brother’s intent gaze. “I like babies as well. I look forward to a niece or nephew of my own.”

  Darcy relaxed and smiled. “Have you not had your fill of wild, untamed creatures?”

  “What is this?” Lord Matlock exclaimed, his eyes alight. “No matter his bad habits and insolence, that is an impertinent way to speak of my son.”