Two Days Before Christmas

by Leenie Brown

  “I am not swayed by a uniform,” Georgiana said lightly. “Nor am I swayed by pretty words any longer,” she added more somberly.

  “Wickham has enlisted.”

  Georgiana’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes grew wide. “Oh,” she said softly. A shiver of cold ran down her spine as she stood and walked to the window. She had hoped that when she heard his name uttered by someone other than herself, her brother, or Mrs. Annesley, she would be able to do so with more composure than she currently felt. His being in Meryton would make going to Hertfordshire more challenging. It was not that she suspected she would be affected by him as she once was, but it was harder to forget the pain of rejection and your foolishness when faced with the source of both. She gasped and turned toward her companions. “Is he why my brother is so miserable?”

  Bingley shook his head. “I do not think so. Although…” his left brow rose and his lips pursed as he considered the thought.

  Georgiana’s steps were quick as she returned from the window. “Although what? What might Mr. Wickham have done that has injured my brother?”

  “We met Wickham on our ride one day. Neither of us expected to see him. I was not as affected by it as your brother was.” Bingley paused.

  “I know Fitzwilliam despises the scoundrel, as he should, but why would that make Fitzwilliam so miserable and only now, not while you were in Hertfordshire?”

  Bingley tipped his head and shrugged. “That is the question, is it not?”

  “Yes,” interjected Mrs. Annesley, who was sitting forward in her chair, listening eagerly.

  “Wickham was not alone,” Bingley said

  Georgiana took a tentative seat on the edge of her chair as things started to become clear in her mind. “She was with him,” she whispered.

  “If you mean Miss Elizabeth and her sisters, yes.”

  “My brother likes her, does he not? She was mentioned in so many of his letters, and you said he danced with her.”

  “As I told you yesterday, yes. I believe he has lost his heart to Miss Elizabeth.”

  Georgiana flopped backward in her chair, not caring that it was not how a proper young lady was supposed to sit. “She must have refused him,” she said.

  Bingley nearly choked on the tea he was drinking. “No, I do not think anything like that has happened, for I am certain my sister would have crowed over such a wonderful event.” There was a note of sarcasm in his voice as he said the last part.

  Georgiana sat forward again. “Then why would Fitzwilliam say he is never marrying?”

  Again, Bingley nearly choked on his tea. “Never marrying? What?”

  Georgiana shrugged. “That is what he said. I asked him if he had finally been trapped by your sister –”

  Bingley guffawed. “Oh, he must be in a terrible state if you thought to ask him that!”

  “He is,” Mrs. Annesley assured Bingley.

  Georgiana nodded her agreement as she continued. “He assured me that nothing so horrid had happened and told me that he was never marrying. Of course, I replied that he would someday, and he replied with a perhaps. A perhaps! My brother, who has always droned on and on about doing his duty and finding a proper wife, said he would perhaps marry! What?” she asked in response to the finger Bingley held up.

  “A proper wife is not the same as a lady one wishes to marry,” he replied. “Miss Elizabeth is a gentleman’s daughter, but her father is of no great standing.”

  “So?” Georgiana huffed. Her brother could be far too particular at times. She understood following rules and meeting expectations was important but a gentleman’s daughter was a gentleman’s daughter. It was not as if her brother needed to marry an heiress or a lady whose father held a title. He had said so many times when the subject of marrying his cousin Anne de Bourgh was broached.

  “She has an uncle in Meryton and one in town.”

  “Many people do,” Georgiana retorted. “I have an uncle in town — at least, I do when the House of Lords is sitting. And I have several uncles in the country who rarely come to town.”

  “Yes, but none of your country relations are solicitors and your uncle in town does not live near Cheapside, nor is he a tradesman.”

  “Oh.” That made a bit more sense. A tie to trade was not something that all of her relations would appreciate. “It is her uncle not her father,” she argued.

  “So I have said,” Bingley replied.

  “Do you know the name and address of this uncle in town?” Mrs. Annesley asked.

  Georgiana turned toward her companion with the same look of shock that Bingley was giving her.

  “I thought we might call on her,” said Mrs. Annesley. “To be polite and to find out a bit more about Miss Elizabeth.”

  Georgiana tipped her head. “Do you think it would be beneficial?”

  Mrs. Annesley took a sip of her tea. “I do not know, but I would think it would be wise to perhaps caution Miss Elizabeth about some of the members of the militia. Only, of course, if it seems that the aunt is close to her niece.” She placed her cup to the side and continued with a sly smile. “And it would not be such a bad idea to have some credible material about the fineness of Miss Elizabeth’s relations — provided they are indeed fine people — with which to refute your brother’s protests about why he cannot marry a lady he so obviously loves.”

  Chapter 2

  The scheme was settled. Bingley would discover the address of the Gardiners and send it to Georgiana as soon as he was able. Then, she and Mrs. Annesley would pay a visit while out on a shopping excursion. Darcy, of course, was not to know about any of this. It was imperative that they discover the quality of Miss Elizabeth’s relations before they attempted any sort of dissuasion of Darcy’s beliefs.

  Keeping her plans from being discovered by her brother proved to be far easier than Georgiana had expected it to be, for her brother either kept to his room, indulging in sleep, or sequestered himself in his study, pushing books around and consuming far more brandy than was his normal habit. While these actions made for much simpler scheming, it also caused both Mrs. Annesley and Georgiana to worry about Darcy.

  He had taken a quiet dinner with them on Thursday, the day of his arrival, but it was not until Saturday afternoon when he once again made an appearance at any sort of table where food and his sister both were.

  “I am thinking of returning to Pemberley,” he said, taking a seat near the tea table that was laid out in the music room. “I see no need to tolerate the season this year. If we leave soon, we shall likely miss the worst of the cold weather, and the roads will still be passable.”

  Georgiana lowered her teacup to the table. This would not work! If he was at Pemberley, there would be no way to work on him to return to Netherfield and Miss Elizabeth. “If you do not wish to remain in town, Netherfield would be more convenient,” she suggested.

  He set his jaw and shook his head. “I shall not be returning to Netherfield.”

  “Not ever?” She asked in surprise.

  “No. Never.”

  Georgiana recoiled slightly at his harsh tone. “I apologize for my incredulity, Brother. I had thought you a gentleman of your word.”

  She rose from her chair, leaving her tea and sandwich behind, and crossed to the instrument. She could not enjoy her tea when her brother was threatening to unsettle all her hopes to see him happy. She leafed through her music.

  “I shall ask Bingley to join us at Pemberley, where I shall be able to instruct him about estate management from the comfort of my own home.”

  She turned toward her brother. “You will teach him to manage your estate not his.”

  “An estate is an estate,” her brother argued.

  His arms were folded, and he wore that scowl which said his opinion was not going to be swayed. It was unfortunate for him that she was not willing to believe in the immovability of his opinion. His thinking was faulty — moulded and warped by emotions. She knew it was, and because of this, she also knew that with ti
me and persistence, it was not entirely improbable that he would see his error. Had she not also, at one point, been swayed by emotion into believing a falsehood? And though it had taken the crushing blow of the revelation of Mr. Wickham’s intentions to help her see her error, she had seen it and was better for it. The same would be true for her brother. She just needed to persist as strongly as she could until he saw how he was wrong.

  “He will not come alone,” she argued, hoping the dread of being confined to Pemberley with the Hursts and Caroline Bingley for an indefinite period of time would be enough to shake from his mind the foolishness of running as far as he could from Miss Elizabeth.

  “Caroline will remain in town for the season. She will not leave.”

  Georgiana shook her head. “Oh, my dear brother, how mistaken you are! She has no wish to find a husband other than you.”

  Her brother shrugged. “I will not invite her.”

  Georgiana sighed. “She will manage to invite herself. You know she will.”

  “I know nothing of the sort.”

  “Then you are a blockhead,” Georgiana said firmly. She knew that such a comment would draw his anger, but at present, something needed to shake him from his stubborn, morose state of mind.

  “Georgiana!”

  His tone was harsh and scolding as she knew it would be. She wished to apologize immediately. It was not like her to call her brother names. However, no matter how wrong it was or how red her face burned with shame, she would not retreat from attempting to make him see reason. “What else do you call someone who refuses to see things as they are. You know that Caroline Bingley has long desired to become your wife and mistress of Pemberley. In her three seasons, she has never entertained any gentleman in a fashion that would suggest she was looking for a husband — unless that gentleman was you! She hangs on your every word. She prances and preens to get your attention. She flatters and attempts to make me her sister.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “I do not despise her. She is a friend of sorts, but surely, you must see what she is about?” She looked expectantly at her brother, who replied with a shrug. Georgiana rolled her eyes. He was so stubborn at times!

  “Very well. Invite Bingley and see if his sisters do not both accompany him.” She placed the pieces of music she still held on the piano and marched over to her seat. “I shall not like to live with you once you are married to her. I tolerate Miss Bingley quite well when we are together for a short duration, but I do not wish to be paraded about during my season by her.” She blinked at the tears that unexpectedly gathered. Caroline was so very different from Georgiana. Caroline put herself forward. Georgiana did not, nor did she wish to be pushed forward in such a fashion.

  “I am not marrying Caroline,” Darcy growled.

  “Do you truly think that you can survive a full winter at Pemberley without being trapped?” She wiped away a tear that had escaped her fluttering lashes and then took a trembling sip of her tea. “No,” she said with a firm shake of her head. “I will not allow it. We will not be leaving town.”

  “You have very little say in the matter,” Darcy retorted.

  “If I might,” Mrs. Annesley interjected and then waited to be acknowledged. “Miss Darcy’s concern is not unfounded. A situation could very easily arise that would call your honour into question if the Bingleys were to travel to Pemberley with you. However, I believe the point to be moot. I understood Mr. Bingley to say he intended to return to Netherfield when last he called. He seemed very determined to do so.”

  Georgiana wiped away a second tear and looked at her companion with trepidation. They had agreed that they would not tell Fitzwilliam of Bingley’s plans until everything had been arranged.

  “Bingley is returning to Netherfield?”

  “Yes, sir. I do believe that is his intention.” She smiled at her employer. “There is a lovely young lady who awaits him.”

  Georgiana’s eyes grew wide, and she dared to glance at her brother. He was staring open-mouthed at Mrs. Annesley.

  “But she is indifferent to him,” he finally managed to mutter.

  “Has she said as much?” Mrs. Annesley queried.

  “No, but Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst assure me of its truth, and they were on friendly terms with Miss Bennet.”

  Georgiana saw her companion’s lips twitch just slightly, and she waited eagerly to hear the point Miss Annesley was about to make.

  “This would be the same Miss Bingley who insists her brother will marry Miss Darcy?”

  “She insists what?” Darcy looked at his sister and then back at her companion.

  Georgiana nodded. “Caroline has told me many times how well Mr. Bingley and I suit each other.”

  “I think,” Mrs. Annesley continued before Darcy could form any more words, “that perhaps Miss Bingley does not wish to encourage an attachment between her brother and this Miss Bennet. I am certain that Miss Bennet’s dowry and connections are not superior to Miss Darcy’s.”

  “No, not at all,” Darcy replied. “Miss Bennet is of little standing.”

  “That would not benefit Miss Bingley in her quest to rise above her roots, now would it?” Mrs. Annesley poured a cup of tea and placed it before him. “A gentleman does not know the heart of any lady until he has made an inquiry of the lady in question. Until then, it is all hearsay and speculation. Admittedly, listening to such accounts no matter their veracity will save a few from certain heartbreak, but it will just as likely doom many to misery, having given up their heart’s desire without so much as a whimper.”

  Darcy eyed Mrs. Annesley cautiously over the rim of his teacup. The woman had come with impeccable references, and to date, she had proved invaluable to his sister, taking Georgiana under her wing as if she was a mother hen, pushing her out from the safe repose of her room and home when it was needed to advance her recovery, and instructing her in every necessary accomplishment she would require when it came time to make her debut. Surely, she was a lady whose advice was as good for him as it was for his sister, yet, he did not feel particularly ready to admit it. He did not wish to be rational and level-headed, for being rational and level-headed was precisely what had led him to leave Hertfordshire and reduced him to his current miserable existence. He could not remain in town. The temptation to return to Netherfield would be too great. The knowledge that she was so near and yet so unattainable would be agonizing. If there was a distance between them, he might then be able to forget her and her lovely eyes, pleasing figure, and quick wit. He indulged in silence as he drank his tea. Then, when his cup was empty, he placed it on the table and pushed to his feet. “Then, I will go to Pemberley by myself. I will send a request to Matlock House. I am certain Lady Matlock would welcome you to stay with her in my absence.”

  Georgiana’s eyes grew wide and filled with tears, causing him to look away.

  “You would leave me? At Christmas?” she whispered.

  “Only because you refuse to go to Pemberley with me,” he said, moving toward the door. “I will be in my study if you require anything or if you change your mind.”

  “When do you leave, sir?” Mrs. Annesley asked before he could exit the room.

  He would be away at this moment if it were not for those blasted tears in his sister’s eyes. His own sorrow somehow deepened at the thought of causing her pain. “Three, four days,” he responded uncertainly. “That should give enough time for Mrs. Reynolds to prepare for my arrival.” He turned toward his sister. “I will not send any correspondence until tomorrow.”

  She nodded but did not look up at him. The action was so reminiscent of how she had been following Ramsgate that he feared he was setting her progress back.

  “I cannot remain in town, Georgiana. I just cannot.” He gave a nod to Mrs. Annesley and, leaving the music room, headed to his study. He did not, however, reach his destination, before hearing a most unwelcome sound in the foyer. He glanced in the direction of Caroline Bingley’s voice, hoping that she had not yet seen him and he might h
ideaway undetected. From the hand she lifted to wave at him, he knew he was not to be so fortunate.

  “Mr. Darcy,” she called.

  He sighed and turned in her direction.

  “I have come to call on your sister. She is such a dear, and I do dote on her,” she explained as she removed her gloves and coat. “Louisa and I were uncertain if I would be so fortunate as to see you as well since my brother would not join us. He has been in such a foul mood since our arrival. He stomps about, slamming doors, and replying only in one-word answers. It is absolutely impossible to have a conversation with him about anything.”

  “He was not pleased with your arrival in town?” Darcy asked.

  “Most decidedly not!” said Louisa. “I was thanking the heavens that I did not have to remain under his roof that first night.” She shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Such a show of temper!”

  Darcy’s brows drew together. “A show of temper from Bingley?” He motioned to the sitting room in invitation to the two ladies. Bingley did not anger easily. He would become disgruntled at times and even cantankerous, but rarely did he become angry to the point of making a display. Darcy wished to rub the small pain that was developing between his eyes. His friend must have been even more attached to Miss Bennet than he had suspected.

  “I do not jest,” Louisa continued as she moved toward the room he had indicated. “I thought he was going to banish Caroline to our aunt’s house.”

  “He nearly did,” Caroline assured Darcy.

  How he wished she would walk further away from him than she was. It seemed she always had to be within arm’s length of his person — as if being there assured her the possibility of grasping him if he should attempt to disappear, which at this moment he wished he could.

  “I should go get Georgiana,” he muttered.

  Caroline made a small sound of disbelief and favoured him with an amused smile. “Mr. Wright will see to it,” she cajoled. “Darcy House only employs the best.” She perched herself on a settee near his favourite chair.