by Dixon, P. O.
There he stood. His likeness at Pemberley hardly does the gentleman justice.
Surely it was taken some years earlier, for Mr. Darcy was more handsome than she had supposed. Dressed in stark black and white, with broad shoulders and well-crafted arms and legs and standing more than six feet, he was taller than most of the gentlemen there. In comparing the man who now stood before her to the image she carried around in her mind, he had matured into adulthood in a manner that could only be described as exceedingly agreeable. What she had not been able to appreciate from his likeness was the brilliance of his blue eyes. She reminded herself not to stare. Nor did his likeness serve justice to his dark-brown hair. She could well imagine how soft it was.
What a thrill of awareness she had felt when she accepted his proffered arm, and he led her across the dance floor. Only after they had taken their places opposite each other did she relinquish his arm. How amazed she was at the honour he had bestowed in dancing with her, especially since he had danced with no one other than those from his own party at the Meryton assembly. Her friend Charlotte had expressly told her that she overheard him saying he hated to dance. Yet, he had made a deliberate effort to single her out within moments of her arrival and requested a set. She expected him to dance the first set with his sister, the next set with his aunt and then maybe he would get around to dancing with her—strictly out of obligation.
In appearance, the gentleman was the embodiment of perfection. That was the problem. He was too perfect. Recalling herself to her mission to satisfy her curiosity about Mr. Darcy’s character, Elizabeth finally noticed why her mother and sisters deemed the man a bit too haughty. He had not spoken a single word to her except to express his pleasure in engaging her for her first dance.
Pursuant to Elizabeth’s arrival in town, satisfying the social arrangements her aunt and uncle had made for her to get better acquainted with many of their friends was but one of the activities that filled her calendar. There was also shopping, in fact, a prodigious amount of shopping. Once her Aunt Gardiner learned of young Georgiana Darcy’s invitation for Elizabeth to be her guest at many of the upcoming balls, she saw fit to purchase several gowns, all the latest fashions, befitting grand soirees and private parties. Elizabeth had been exceedingly pleased to meet Georgiana’s aunt, Lady Matlock, although she had yet to meet any of Georgiana’s other relations. Until now.
They stood for some time without speaking a word. Elizabeth began to imagine their silence was to last through the two dances.
Why is he staring at me? Is that—is that a grimace? Surely he completed his inspection and found me wanting. Elizabeth’s busy mind now compelled her to question his motives.
Is he dancing with me merely to appease his sister? Were it the case that he was merely acting the part of the dutiful older brother and doing what he could to satisfy his sister, she would not fault him. But that did not mean she intended to allow his act of charity to go unchallenged. Suddenly fancying it would be a greater punishment to her taciturn partner to oblige him to talk, she made some slight observation on the dance. He replied and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time. “It is your turn to say something, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.”
He smiled. “Please tell me what you desire to hear me say, and I shall accommodate your wish.”
The perfect reply. Mr. Wickham had said the gentleman could be exceedingly pleasing when he chooses. Perfectly handsome in countenance and added to that, he moves with such grace and dignity. Excellent dance partner is on my list of admirable traits.
“Might I ask how you found Hertfordshire, Mr. Darcy?” Judging by your haste to return to London, one would imagine you found it quite objectionable. “I am sorry not to have made your acquaintance during your stay. However, I met the Bingleys. Miss Bingley speaks quite affectionately of you.” If anything might engender in him some evidence of excitability then surely it would be the mention of Miss Bingley, but Elizabeth read in his countenance nothing to give him away.
Darcy spoke not a word, and they were parted by the steps. When they reunited he said, “I trust you enjoyed your stay in Derbyshire. My sister said the two of you formed a steady correspondence after meeting at Pemberley.”
Is he insinuating I deliberately went out of my way to make Georgiana’s acquaintance?
She answered in the affirmative. Slightly irritated by his manner and unable to resist the temptation, Elizabeth said, “I have since made another acquaintance, other than yourself, of course, who hails from Derbyshire. Lt. George Wickham.”
The effect was immediate. A deep shade of hauteur overspread his features. His voice resounding, almost intimidating, he said, “Wickham?”
“Yes, having learned of my visit to Pemberley, he was eager to tell me of his own experience having lived there. He is quite amiable.” It is a shame you saw fit to deny him the living that might have satisfied his every notion of happiness.
Mr. Darcy uttered not a word, but his silence spoke volumes. Elizabeth supposed she had said enough. He is my dear friend’s brother. We need not be adversaries simply because he and Mr. Wickham do not get along.
At length, Darcy spoke in a constrained manner. “Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends. From what I observed of the people of Meryton, there is no doubt they would find the likes of him most agreeable.”
There it is again—that haughty air of condescension! Indeed, sir, unlike you whom they all found quite deplorable. “He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship, and in a manner he is likely to suffer from all his life.”
“You know nothing about me. Why would you say such a thing?”
Satisfied with his discomposure, she said, “It was merely something that the gentleman conveyed about your relationship. Am I mistaken?”
His countenance suggested he would rather speak on any subject but Mr. Wickham. “I see no occasion for a renewal of my acquaintance with the man. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.”
Elizabeth arched her brow. “With such strong convictions, I suppose you never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”
“I hope not.”
“I ask because it is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion to be secure of judging properly at first.”
“May I ask to what these questions tend?”
“I merely seek to illustrate your character. I am trying to make it out.”
“And what is your success?”
She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. I have heard such varying accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”
Clearing his throat, he tore his eyes away from hers for an instant. “I think this is a conversation for another time.”
“But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity.”
“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he coldly replied.
She said no more, and they went down the other dance in silence.
What on earth is she about? If she meant to provoke me, then she surely succeeded in her quest. Why would she wish to garner my ire? Surely she has not been persuaded against me by Wickham’s lies. There is no telling which of his tales of woe he has laid at her feet.
How did Wickham find himself in Hertfordshire, of all places?
What do I care? Unless Bingley is foolish enough to attach himself to the eldest Bennet daughter, I likely will never set foot in those parts again.
When the dance was over, he escorted Elizabeth to where his aunt and sister stood. Georgiana said, “Brother, I see you take no pleasure in being here. I thereby give you permission to take your leave.”
“You are mistaken, dearest. I find there is no place else I would rather be than here with you and your guest. Moreover, you and I have yet to dance.”
Indeed, Darcy’s curiosity was stirred. Whether it was th
e young woman’s teasing smile or her strange fascination with George Wickham, he did not know. He rather supposed it was the latter. The Ramsgate affair, despite having happened over a year ago was too fresh in his mind to countenance a similar situation unfolding. The trust he had placed in his sister’s former companion, Mrs. Younge, was one of his greatest failings. Never would he allow such a mistake again.
Anyone who considers herself a friend of Wickham’s is no friend of mine and certainly is not to be trusted around my young sister. Whatever Miss Elizabeth is about, I intend to find out.
Chapter 7 ~ Sketching Her Character
Darcy arrived at his sister’s Mayfair establishment very early the next morning. He had in mind something other than a social call. He had barely taken his seat before embarking upon the purpose of his visit.
“Georgiana, I know you and Miss Elizabeth Bennet have corresponded regularly since you first met at Pemberley, but what do you really know about her?”
“Whatever do you mean, Brother?”
“Are you aware she is acquainted with George Wickham?”
“I am aware of it. She mentioned having met him in Meryton when he first arrived. I understand he has joined the militia.”
“Are you saying it does not disturb you knowing someone whom you deem a dear friend considers the likes of George Wickham a trusted acquaintance?”
“Brother, George is your enemy. He is not mine.”
“After the way he treated you, how can you say such a thing?”
“With great ease, for I choose not to dwell upon that aspect of my past. I am equally to blame for the misunderstanding.”
“Does Miss Elizabeth know of our family’s dealings with the scoundrel? Have you confided in her?”
“I have told her nothing of my shame, nor do I intend to. I simply conveyed to her there is a breach in our relationship and that I would rather not speak of it. Miss Elizabeth has honoured my wish, and we have had no further discussion of the gentleman. She need not know I was once foolish enough to consider myself in love with a much older man who did not return my affections.” A slight flush crept across her cheeks. “What benefit would be derived? This is a secret I wish no one to know—not even our aunt, Lady Ellen. I expect you to honour my wish.”
Darcy squeezed Georgiana’s hand. “Your secret is safe.” Indeed, Darcy had secrets of his own, for he had never shared with his young sister, the true nature of what all had happened with Wickham. He could not bear to have her learn that Wickham had admitted his only purpose in wooing Georgiana was to obtain her dowry of thirty thousand pounds as well as spite Darcy in the process. What a blow to her esteem that would be.
“Thank you, Brother.” Georgiana tilted her head to the side and raised her eyebrows. “Pray, what do you think of Miss Elizabeth, having met her at last? Is she not the kindest, most generous young lady you have ever met?”
Darcy regarded his sister’s glowing endorsement of her friend with silence.
Georgiana gave him no notice and continued her soliloquy. “Oh, and I must thank you for your willing participation in my scheme. It worked just as I had planned. Did you not notice as one gentleman after another took his place in standing opposite her on the ballroom floor?”
He had noticed. For whatever reason he had yet to explain, it bothered him exceedingly, especially since he dared not request Miss Elizabeth’s hand for a second set. He had been so caught off guard by her mention of George Wickham and her declaration of wishing to sketch his own character that he had not used the fleeting moments between sets to his best advantage.
I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours. He had not intended to challenge her in that way, but he had meant every word of it.
Darcy reached over and retrieved the book his sister had been reading when he arrived. “When are you planning to see Miss Elizabeth Bennet again?”
“She will be my guest at the Richardson’s ball. You do recall, you promised to attend that one as well.”
The Richardson’s ball is three days hence. I need—no, I want to see her sooner than that. “Perhaps, you might call on her. I would be happy to accompany you.”
Georgiana bolted from her seat, raced to the window, and peered outside. After a moment, she turned to face her brother.
“What has got into you? Are you expecting someone?”
“No, Brother, but you in Cheapside? I merely wanted to see if the sky was falling.”
Darcy’s mouth fell open. When had she learned to tease him in such fashion? Her attitude recalled him to Miss Elizabeth’s teasing manner the evening before.
Georgiana said, “Forgive me, but you hardly spoke a single word to Miss Elizabeth last evening. I doubt that you have ever even ventured to Cheapside before. Why would you want to call on Miss Elizabeth?”
“Have you ventured to Cheapside before, young lady?”
She bit her lower lip and dropped her eyes. She said nothing.
“Do not fret, Georgiana. That is even more reason I wish to accompany you. I think I am well within my rights to know with whom you are spending your time and where.”
“Of course, you are correct. When shall we plan to leave?”
“I say there is no better time than the present.”
~*~
What an improbable turn of events—Mr. Darcy calling on me? When the guests were settled and the tea served, she said, “It is my pleasure you two have called on me. I certainly never expected such an honour.” It will surely take a week for him to remove the stench of having come all the way to Cheapside. “My aunt and uncle will be sorry to have missed you.”
After some time had passed, where Mr. Darcy had barely lent a word to advance the conversation, his purpose in being there that morning dawned on Elizabeth. He means to find fault. Then he will forbid his sister to have any further association with me. Elizabeth’s courage always rose with any attempt to daunt her. Let Mr. Darcy sit there and brood and judge all he likes.
Georgiana evidenced enough enthusiasm for both her and her brother. “Elizabeth, as I have no sisters of my own, I am compelled to live vicariously through your many accounts of your own sisters. Pray, what news is there from Longbourn?”
Elizabeth enjoyed a most advantageous view of both her guests. Try as she might, she could not help but discern the grimace that graced Mr. Darcy’s countenance. “Georgiana, all my sisters are exceedingly well.”
“And what news is there of your eldest sister, Miss Bennet, and Mr. Bingley?”
There it is again! Clearly, Mr. Darcy is troubled by his sister’s questions. Elizabeth’s question was why! “I received a missive from Jane this morning. She speaks as fondly of Mr. Bingley as ever. I can only suppose they are getting along perfectly well.”
“Oh, I do hope there will be a wedding.”
Mr. Darcy’s face turned a disturbing shade of pale as he tugged at his crisp white cravat. For Heaven’s sake, breathe, Mr. Darcy. “Pardon me, Mr. Darcy. Is your tea to your liking?”
He nodded his head and set his porcelain cup aside. “Yes—thank you, Miss Elizabeth.”
Georgiana looked back and forth between Elizabeth and Darcy. “You never said, Elizabeth, how my brother was received in Hertfordshire.”
Here is a chance to rattle Mr. Darcy even more than I did last evening, but do I dare? He was not at all impressed with my making mention of Mr. Wickham’s name. “You will recall I did not have the privilege of meeting Mr. Darcy in Hertfordshire.” Elizabeth and Darcy’s eyes met. He is far too serious! What this conversation needs is a bit of liveliness. “However, from what I heard, I beg you to prepare yourself for something very dreadful, Georgiana. You see, your brother danced with no one at the assembly save those of his own party, and there were several young ladies sitting about with no partners.”
Wide-eyed, Georgiana turned to face him. “Brother!”
He cleared his throat. “Aside from Mr. Bingley’s sisters, all those in attendance in want of dance partners were strangers.”
“Your circumstances were no different from Mr. Bingley’s, and yet he danced with many,” cried Elizabeth. “He suffered no difficulties at all forming many new acquaintances.”
“If I may be allowed to speak frankly, Mr. Bingley is very amiable and flows readily into conversation with all whom he meets, whereas my brother often boasts of a hesitance to engage in conversation with people he does not know.”
Elizabeth said, “Or perhaps your brother does not consider it is worth his time to speak to those whom he deems unworthy.”
Darcy crumbled his brow. “You seem rather fond of ascribing opinions to me as though they were my own, Miss Elizabeth. I can only imagine you enjoy doing so as a means of provoking me.” He leaned forward. “I am not afraid of you.”
Elizabeth pressed her hand to her chest. “Heavens, Mr. Darcy! You have painted me in such an unflattering light in which I would want no one to regard me, and here I meant to pass myself off as one is who is in equal parts perceptive and endearing.”
“On the contrary, Miss Elizabeth. No one who has had the privilege of standing opposite you on the dance floor will find you lacking.”
Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry.
Not wishing to be denied her share in the conversation, Georgiana said, “What a beautiful pianoforte.”
“It is a gift from my uncle to my aunt and has only arrived mere days ago. I shall tell my aunt you approve. After having seen for herself the magnificent instrument at Pemberley, I am certain that she will surely appreciate the weight of your compliment.”
Barely able to contain her enthusiasm, Georgiana shifted impatiently in her seat.
“You are welcome to exhibit.”
Georgiana blew out a long breath before smiling. “As much as I would love to exhibit, I fear my brother may be growing restless.”
Darcy cleared his throat. “If Miss Elizabeth has no objection, then we might stay a bit longer.”