Mr. Darcy's Little Sister

by C. Allyn Pierson

  Georgiana smiled at her. “I always wondered why she married him. I also wonder how my aunt can tolerate him.”

  “I wondered that myself the entire time I was in Hunsford last spring… At any rate, my point is that it is not necessary to find a husband before you are eighteen, or even twenty. Particularly you, Georgiana. You have everything a woman needs to attract a husband but a husband is not necessary to ensure your comfort in life. You are not a woman who will have a few good years and then fade away into insignificance. More likely, you will find that maturity will allow you to recognise what you want and who you want to spend your life with. Do not be in a hurry, my dear, and do not let anyone pressure you into making a decision you are not ready for.”

  Georgiana examined her teacup while she thought about Elizabeth’s words.

  “I still do not know how not to be intimidated by my Presentation and all the balls and parties. I do not know how to form a sense of someone’s mind from trivial conversation immediately. I would rather meet new people one at a time and get to know them in a natural fashion, as I did with my friend Catherine Freemont.”

  Elizabeth smiled at her. “You sound very much like your brother, my dear.” After a few sips of tea she finally added, “I think what you need to do is avoid trying to chatter with people. It is not your style of intercourse. Instead, imagine yourself a princess. You are dignified but gracious. When you do not know what to say, you just smile enigmatically and nod intelligently while the other person talks. If they are interesting you will soon have something you want to say. If they are not, you can use the time to muse about something more engaging. Conjugate your irregular verbs if you must. Most gentlemen, in my experience, prefer to do all the talking themselves anyway. You must not use your brother as an example of the typical man; he is quite unique.”

  Georgiana laughed at the picture she had conjured. “All right. Perhaps I can do that.”

  Her performances soon began to improve and by working intensively over the next day they made some little progress.

  ***

  On the morning of the second day after Darcy’s departure, the day was sunny and windless after several days of rain, and Georgiana was ready for a break from her incessant practising, so she convinced Elizabeth and Kitty to join her in a short walk with Lucky and Pilot. They bundled up in their heaviest cloaks and warm bonnets and gloves and put Lucky in his new sweater then walked quickly down to the stream, where they turned up a path that was partially sheltered from the brisk air by rocks and shrubbery. They had walked about a half mile and were just ready to turn back when Lucky tugged on his leash, stiffening and growling as he stared towards the woods. At the same time, they were hailed.

  “Mrs. Darcy, Miss Darcy, Miss Bennet, I am very glad to see you,” Jonathan Walker called cheerfully as he broke out of the trees and swaggered casually towards them. Behind him appeared two retainers carrying shotguns. Seeing their startled faces he added, “I apologise for surprising you, but we were hunting and lost our way. We evidently wandered onto Pemberley land inadvertently and I am happy to know now where we are. I saw Mr. Darcy drive by several days ago, apparently on his way to town, so I was afraid that we would not find succour in our distress.” He smiled ingratiatingly.

  Georgiana felt a cold trickle of ice down her spine when she saw the guns and Walker’s arrogant attitude but kept silent as Elizabeth answered, “Indeed, sir, you must have wandered a great way.”

  “Yes, I am afraid we have,” he said engagingly.

  Georgiana, observing him from the edge of this conversation, noted that his smile did not reach his eyes, which studied them with chilly composure. He paused, and Georgiana could hear the wind rustling the dead leaves in the profound silence of the woods. He continued, and she could almost see him calculating his response, “May I escort you ladies back to the house, or were you going to walk further?” He looked meaningfully at Georgiana.

  Elizabeth answered him, her face rigidly controlled, “I am afraid we must turn back. We have already walked farther than we should and it would be very rude to be late for our guests.”

  “Oh, you have guests? I will not intrude, then, but will go only as far as the drive, where we can cross to the main road.” He offered Georgiana his arm and Pilot, who had been sitting quietly behind Elizabeth with his eyes glued upon the unwanted guests, growled deep in his throat, like the rumble of thunder.

  “You are too kind, sir,” Georgiana responded. Ignoring his proffered arm to pat Pilot on the head, she managed to put the dog between herself and Walker.

  After the three men left them at the drive, Kitty whispered to Elizabeth, “What is going on?”

  Elizabeth touched a finger to her lips and shook her head slightly, hurrying them towards the house. Georgiana picked up Lucky, who continued growling softly as he peeked at the men from over her shoulder. They went quickly up the stairs and into the house while Pilot stayed behind on the terrace, silently watching the intruders walk down the drive. The ladies stared at each other while they caught their breath in the hall and a footman assisted them in removing their wraps.

  “I think, perhaps, that we would all like some hot tea to warm us up. What do you think, ladies?” Elizabeth said, in an obvious attempt to behave as usual.

  The others nodded silently and went to the drawing-room while Elizabeth gave the orders for their tea.

  “Well?” Georgiana said when she had closed the door of the drawing-room.

  “I don’t know exactly what Mr. Walker’s game is, but he is beginning to make me very uneasy,” Elizabeth said slowly. “His claim to have accidentally wandered onto Pemberley land is patently false. It is a full six miles to the Walker property, and they would have crossed several roads on the way by which he could have oriented himself. He also knew that Mr. Darcy was gone.” She paused and then said carefully, “I am afraid that Mr. Darcy has heard that Mr. Walker is in some financial difficulties. He might feel that Georgiana’s fortune could be the solution to his problems and wishes to press his suit however he can. At any rate, I strongly recommend that we do not walk out alone, even near the house, and we will take a couple of footmen with us when we walk together.”

  She attempted to smile reassuringly, but Georgiana felt light-headed with the shock and she saw that Kitty pressed her hand to her lips as she nodded. Elizabeth added, with a weak simulation of her usual pertness, “Georgiana, you did very well, my dear. An empress could not have been more deadly courteous.”

  Georgiana smiled tightly, her confusion and dismay turning to anger at the audacity of Walker’s invasion.

  Elizabeth, mistaking the pale set of her face for fear, said reassuringly, “I hope that your aunt and uncle will be here very soon, my dear—I expect them in the next day or two. I will feel much safer with their support.”

  At that moment the tea tray arrived and broke their tense conclave. Elizabeth changed the subject, but they were all rather thoughtful as they drank their tea.

  ***

  The three ladies were very relieved when, at a few minutes before five o’clock, a fine carriage with four horses and liveried coachman and footmen pulled up the gravel drive. Lord and Lady Whitwell had arrived.

  The three women rose when the visitors were announced, and Georgiana advanced to greet her aunt and uncle.

  “It is lovely to see you my lord and lady,” she said smoothly, giving them each a curtsey. “I would like to introduce you to my sister-in-law, Mrs. Darcy, and her sister, Miss Catherine Bennet.”

  Their visitors smiled and kissed Georgiana and greeted Elizabeth and Kitty courteously, if a little warily. George Fitzwilliam, Earl of Whitwell, was a slim, grizzled man of about fifty years, of medium height, and with blue eyes and a weathered complexion. Lady Whitwell was tall and slender, almost as tall as her husband, and had light brown hair liberally mixed with silver and with streaks of pure silver in front. She wore her hai
r in a simple style that enhanced its beautiful colour and her gown of blue emphasised the pale blue of her eyes. Although both had rather reserved faces at rest, the lines around their eyes indicated that they were not without good humour and were more accustomed to smiling than frowning. Elizabeth and Kitty returned their courtesies, Kitty somewhat hesitantly.

  “I have heard so much about you,” Lord Whitwell said, his face flushing briefly, “and I am happy to finally meet you.”

  Elizabeth returned the compliments calmly, but Georgiana could not repress a smile as her sister responded to his commonplace greeting: she was quite sure that he had heard a great deal about Elizabeth from Lady Catherine. She ordered tea for her guests and the familiar ritual of pouring and serving allowed everyone to recover from the awkwardness of the introductions. Once the greetings were over and Lord and Lady Whitwell had told Georgiana the family news and given her the birthday present which they had brought for her (a pair of fine doeskin gloves), the atmosphere became somewhat more relaxed and the time passed quickly until dinner.

  ***

  The next morning Elizabeth rose early, in the hope that she could speak to Lord Whitwell about Jonathan Walker before the others arose. She was fortunate and found him breakfasting alone in the small breakfast-parlour.

  “My lord, may I speak to you for a few moments before the others join us?” she asked.

  “Of course, Mrs. Darcy,” he answered, his brows tilted quizzically. “How may I serve you?”

  “I wanted you to be aware of a situation which has arisen since my husband left for London and to ask for your advice, but I do not wish to further alarm my sisters,” she said diffidently. “One of the young gentlemen of the neighbourhood has been rather importunate towards Georgiana, and my husband has heard some things which have given him cause for concern about the young man’s character. We do not feel that we can avoid his society entirely as his father’s ancestors have been the squires of Lambton for many generations and are long family acquaintances.” She then proceeded to tell him of the incident of the previous day and the measures she had adopted.

  “You feel that the young man is a threat to Georgiana?” Lord Whitwell asked, a little scepticism in his voice.

  “I feel, at least, that we should be excessively cautious to ensure Georgiana’s safety,” Elizabeth returned, suppressing the little sting of irritation she felt at his doubt. “The young man is deeply in debt and might feel that a forced marriage to Georgiana might answer where his charm did not. At the very least, he has accosted us on Pemberley property and lied about his reasons for being here.”

  “You are certainly correct about Georgiana’s safety being paramount,” he said, tapping his fingers nervously on the table. “Well, we will adopt your measures and possibly we should leave for London a little sooner than we had originally planned.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  ***

  They decided to leave in two days and, as Lady Whitwell had brought her favourite seamstress with her to sew the gowns Georgiana would need for her debut, the ladies spent the morning looking at patterns and fabric samples while the maids began readying their trunks. While they were discussing gowns with Lady Whitwell, Georgiana earnestly insisted to her aunt that her ballgowns be cut lower in the bodice than what Lady Whitwell was suggesting she wear.

  “My dear aunt, I am an adult now, and you do not want me to look like a child for my first Season, do you? I am not asking to appear in an unseemly way, but I would like to be as fashionable as is consistent with propriety.”

  Lady Whitwell seemed surprised at Georgiana’s firmness of will but finally agreed that a lower neckline would be acceptable:

  “I suppose we must show you off to best advantage, my dear, and you do have a lovely figure,” she said as she eyed Georgiana appraisingly. “I am sorry, Georgiana. I am having difficulty remembering that you are all grown up. I do not have any daughters, so I am not sure what the other young women are wearing during the Season, but you are correct: the current fashion is for a lower-cut bodice.”

  Georgiana merely smiled.

  Their time with the seamstress was interrupted in the early afternoon when Jonathan Walker came to call. Elizabeth introduced him to Lord and Lady Whitwell in the hall and ordered refreshments for their guest as they accompanied him to the drawing-room. His avowed reason for calling was to apologise again for disturbing their walk the day before and to ask if the ladies would consider taking one with his escort later. He did so while keeping an eye on Pilot, who was standing at the foot of the stairs watching him in an intent silence that Mr. Walker seemed to find more intimidating than the previous day’s growling, as evidenced by the glances he repeatedly flicked between the dog and Lord and Lady Whitwell. Georgiana reflected to herself in amusement that it would take a strong constitution to face the entire Darcy clan if Mr. Walker did not behave properly.

  “I am so sorry, Mr. Walker,” Elizabeth said, answering his question without much warmth, “we are just now preparing to go to London with Lord and Lady Whitwell. We will be gone for the Season, so we are simply overwhelmed with business that must be concluded before we can leave. I doubt that we will have time for walks, even if the weather is conducive.”

  “Of course,” he said politely, looking coolly into her eyes. “In that case I would, naturally, not want to take up any more of your time.” He turned to Georgiana as they said their goodbyes and made a deep bow. “I trust that you will find the Season delightful, Miss Darcy, and hope that you will not forget your friends in the north.”

  “I never forget my friends, Mr. Walker,” Georgiana replied, her eyes meeting his with chilly courtesy. “Good day to you, sir.”

  Georgiana and her aunt went back upstairs to the schoolroom, where the seamstress was holding court, but Lord Whitwell detained Elizabeth for a moment with a touch on her arm as she turned to follow them.

  “I apologise for my doubts earlier this morning, Mrs. Darcy. I agree with you that Mr. Walker is a man of whom to beware. He has a cold eye that belies the courtesies that come from his mouth. I think I will have the forester and some of his men check the woods occasionally during the day and make sure that he does not become ‘lost’ again.”

  “Thank you, my lord; I appreciate your assistance,” Elizabeth answered. “I am sure Georgiana will feel better knowing that Mr. Walker cannot disturb us.”

  He returned her warm smile and went back to the library, where he had been reading before Mr. Walker had arrived, while she followed the others upstairs.

  Chapter 13

  Utrum que enim vitium est, et omnibus credere et nulli.

  (It is equally unsound to trust everyone and to trust no one.)

  —Seneca, Epistulae

  While Elizabeth was returning upstairs to rejoin her sisters and Lady Whitwell, Darcy was recovering from a brutal ride to London. They had changed carriage horses at posting inns along the way and ridden from dawn to dusk to dawn, arriving at Ashbourne House on the morning of the second day. Burton had received the letter informing him that Darcy was coming to do some business, and he greeted his master without surprise at the unorthodox time of his arrival. Darcy ordered that breakfast be served in an hour and hurried upstairs, where his valet had already arranged a hot bath and clean clothes.

  He tried to relax and enjoy the hot water as it soaked away the aches and stiffness from the trip, but without much success. As he was dressing, Burton brought a message from Colonel Fitzwilliam that he would pick him up at nine pm to take him to Carlton House. The Prince Regent would be preparing to go out for the evening, and there would be a minimum of hangers-on to note their meeting. Darcy sent an acknowledgement and an invitation to dine at seven.

  He was dressed in his finest evening clothes when the colonel arrived, and they left as soon as he and the colonel had finished dining. On the ride to Carlton House, the colonel told him that they would enter
by the main entrance to avoid any suspicions; it would not do to have them seen sneaking around the back entrance like conspirators.

  “The Prince Regent chose this time,” the colonel explained, “because there is enough moving about to make our presence inconspicuous, but his usual sycophants (my word, not his) are dressing for whatever amusement they have planned. He is most insistent that this be handled confidentially.”

  “Have you any idea yet why he wants to see me?” Darcy asked.

  The colonel shook his head. “No, he has not dropped a syllable beyond what I told you at Pemberley. All I know is that he needs a gentleman who is completely discreet to perform some service for him. You, Darcy, are the most discreet person I know.” He gave his cousin a brief grin.

  The carriage pulled up at the entrance of Carlton House and they alighted and walked up to the door, which had opened to reveal the majordomo by the time they had reached the top step.

  “Good evening, Colonel Fitzwilliam, how may I serve you?”

  “My cousin, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, has an engagement with His Majesty the Prince Regent, Childes.”

  “Yes, sir, I will ascertain if His Majesty is ready to see you. Please wait here.”

  “Thank you, Childes.”

  Childes returned immediately (causing Darcy to lift a brow in surprise), bowed them into an adjoining chamber dominated by a massive mahogany desk, and then left, shutting the door behind himself.

  The Prince Regent entered quietly through an inner door. “Well, Darcy,” he said coldly, “I see that you are punctual, as usual.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. I pray, Your Majesty, tell me how I may serve you.” Darcy returned his slight bow with one frigidly correct and stared levelly at his monarch.

  The Prince Regent was a large man and his features were not unhandsome, but his looks were marred by his obesity and now, in his late middle age, he had a debauched look, with bloodshot eyes and sagging jowls.