by Meg Osborne
“We would happily free you to undertake such a pastime if it would release us from having to look interested,” Caroline said. “Besides, Annabelle and I have plenty to occupy us here. Perhaps my dear husband will permit me to organise a small soiree, for I would dearly like to introduce you to my friends.” Darcy was not given a chance to agree or disagree with this request, for it was spoken as a matter of fact, as if Caroline had already determined what she would do, regardless of Darcy’s approval. “The new Lady Frobisher, you know, has an estate not far from here, and we are very good friends. She is an emigree, you know,” Caroline’s voice dropped to a pseudo-whisper. “From France. Dreadfully elegant, but so severe! Still, her sense of style is exquisite, and she never fails to compliment me on my own attention to fashion and detail.” Caroline lifted her chin, intent on demonstrating the particular sparkle of a pair of ear-bobs that had been a recent gift from Darcy to his wife. A gift of duty rather than any real affection, for Caroline had been none too reserved when it came to suggesting notions she most admired and wished for. Plagued with guilt for the sharp words Darcy often spoke to his wife, which were bred out of his own hatred of his current circumstances, he was all too inclined to attempt to repair the damage with such a purchase, yet he had not yet managed to buy his way into a happier marriage, and lately began to wonder if such a feat were indeed possible.
“You are as kind as ever, sister, to befriend someone leaving behind such suffering,” Charles said, with a small smile towards Caroline that, Darcy noticed, was not returned. In fact, he wondered if Caroline had even heard her brother’s compliment.
“Your estate is so vast, Mr Darcy,” Annabelle said, breaking away from Caroline’s hypnotic monologue long enough to pay her host a genuine compliment. “I had no idea Pemberley so grand a place!”
“No idea!” Caroline laughed, but the sound was not a pleasant one. “Really, Annabelle, you tease us. Pemberley is well regarded throughout England as one of the prettiest of all the country estates.”
“Now, Caroline, I don’t think that is altogether accurate -” Darcy began, disliking the superior tone Caroline slipped into when discussing their home as if she had had some role to play in its flourishing. That Pemberley existed at all, and thrived as it did, was largely down to the careful work of his father. Old Mr Darcy had invested well and run his estate wisely, taking good care of his tenants and in return earning their respect and devotion. Darcy strove to emulate his father, yet Caroline seemed to give little credence to the importance of giving due care and consideration to the managing of such an estate. She merely enjoyed the benefits afforded such a home and had already successfully encouraged Darcy to host two large-scale parties this season. She was angling for a third, and it seemed the arrival of Charles and Annabelle Bingley were just the excuse she had been hoping for to hasten her plans.
“I mean - it is so very different from London,” Annabelle hurried out, eager not to upset her hots so soon after arriving. “So green, and pleasant.”
“Indeed!” Caroline nodded, accepting this comment as an adequate explanation and forgiving her friend for the perceived slight in her earlier comment. “It is far pleasanter than London! I do not know how you can bear to live there so much. Surely, Charles, you are eager to take a house in the country again, for you were so happy at Netherfield.”
The silence that swept over the room was so sudden and complete that even Darcy was surprised by its fervency. He noticed Caroline’s cheeks drain of all colour as she realised her mistake.
“Happy, yes.” Charles cleared his throat. “But that was a long time ago. Everything is different now, is it not?” He turned his attention to the piano. “Do you still have much opportunity to play, sister? Or does the provision of music all fall on Georgiana’s shoulders?” He lifted his gaze to Darcy’s. “Where is your sister, Darcy? I hope she is not avoiding us?”
“Avoiding? Not at all.” Darcy smiled, grateful for the interest his friend showed in the absent Georgiana. “She had a few tasks to see to, I believe, but will return and join us for dinner. And you will stay here a few days yet, so you are bound to be afforded the chance to hear her playing. She continues to improve, if it were possible.”
“Yes, we can hardly pry her fingers from the keys,” Caroline remarked, with a pinched smile. “How pleasant it is to have an hour of silence, without her trilling through scale after scale. Annabelle, come and take a turn about the room with me, for you must be in need of some exercise after your long journey...”
Chapter Nine
“Was this not worth rising early?” Darcy asked as he and Charles slowed their horses to a walk the next morning. They had planned to go out at first light, seizing the opportunity for a morning ride without the interference of any of the ladies at Pemberley, and seeking not to disturb them with their early morning activities. As it was, his friend had been bleary-eyed and uncharacteristically quiet on meeting. A quick ride had blown the sleep from Darcy’s brains, and he could only hope the same was true for Charles.
“What fine countryside!” Charles said, looking around at the green expanses and the grey hills that could be seen in the distance. “It does me good to see it! Do you know, I have not had such exercise since before we returned to London?” He shook his head, marvelling at the fact. “And how I have missed it!”
“In that case, you must ride just as often as you wish to, while you are here,” Darcy said, turning his horse and beginning to retrace their route back towards the house.
“Might we ride on a little further?” Bingley asked. “That is, you do not have any pressing desire to return just at present?”
“We can stay out as long as you wish. The ladies are well catered for and will be quite content to breakfast without us, I don’t doubt.”
Charles smiled, and they rode on in silence for a few moments, before he spoke again.
“It is good of you to host us, Darcy, and at such short notice.”
“Was it so very short?” Darcy shook his head. “There is no such thing, surely, when one visits family.”
“Nonetheless...” Charles trailed off, and Darcy was left wondering what lay behind the sad smile that lingered on his friend’s features, or the quietness that seemed so uncharacteristic of Charles Bingley yet had become his apparent norm since his arrival at Pemberley.
“I wished to leave London,” he said, at length. “That is, I rather had to leave London.”
“I have warned you about those card tables...” Darcy remarked, drily. He bit back his attempt at humour when he saw the deep flush that tainted his friend’s cheeks.
“You see, I knew there was little point in attempting to deceive you. You know me too well and could surely tell at first glance that financially...we are not...that is, I -” He trailed off.
“Have you come into difficulty?” Darcy asked, his voice gruff in an attempt to extract the truth from his friend whilst sparing his pride.
“Not exactly.” Charles’ voice was flat. “That would suggest some accident of fate. I rather think my wife...” he shook his head. “I ought not to speak so. And yet how can I be anything but truthful with my oldest friend? The truth of the matter is that Annabelle has little concept of money or how quickly it might be spent, particularly in London.” He sighed. “You know I am no miser, Darcy, nor have I ever wanted for much, thank heavens. But even I can see her extravagance lacks wisdom and foresight.” When he lifted his gaze to Darcy’s his features were miserable. “I sometimes think she is intent on bankrupting me. If we stay in London it is certainly a very real possibility!”
Had it been anyone other than Bingley, Darcy would have laughed, and advised the fellow to keep a tighter grip on his purse strings, but Charles looked so miserable that Darcy knew any reproach, however lightly offered or genuinely meant would hit his friend too hard.
“Then do not stay in London.”
Bingley frowned.
“I am not sure I can afford to remove, at present.”
/> “Stay here.” Darcy warmed to the idea as soon as it was spoken. “You know you are welcome to stay as long as you wish it. Surely Annabelle would benefit from having companions under the same roof, and I assure you I would be more than grateful to have you stay.”
His fervent encouragement had caused Bingley to frown, reading some deeper motivation behind Darcy’s invitation, which he hurried to negate.
“Stay here. What trouble can she get up to in the country?”
“With nothing to do she will drive us both to distraction. She is not fond of walking nor of reading nor any quiet pastime. At least in London, there are exhibitions and concerts and any number of friends to see. Or perhaps, if I am clever, I might persuade her towards Bath. One can be extravagant at far less cost in Bath...”
They fell silent, and Darcy resigned himself to raising the issue again later, once his friend had had time to consider his options further. He did not like to admit how much he already dreaded Bingley leaving, and being left alone once more in his home with just his wife and sister for company. It was ironic, he thought, with a grimace, that what had once been a dream for him had become a trial.
“Bath is so far away, Charles. Why not at least stay here a little longer. Caroline will be happy to have you, and Annabelle too.”
“Georgiana.”
Darcy raised his eyes.
“Yes, Georgiana too.”
“No.” Bingley nodded in the direction he had been looking. “Georgiana.”
Darcy followed his gaze, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown.
“Georgiana.”
The shadow was a little far off, but Darcy would have recognised the slight figure of his sister anywhere. What struck him as incongruous was seeing her here. They were still near the boundary of Pemberley - too far for a brief morning stroll. Georgiana must be here with a purpose, then. Has there been some accident? Darcy was reluctant to startle his sister, who seemed to intent on her purpose as to have not noticed the two gentlemen at present. He slid off his horse, handing the reins to Charles, and jogged to meet her.
“Georgie!” he called.
At the sound of his voice, she started, glancing up almost guiltily. Upon recognising first him and then Charles, however, the startled, trapped look fled and was replaced with something altogether different. This was the face he had come to silently refer to as the new Georgiana, both like and unlike his young sister that it quite unnerved him. This was the Georgiana who engaged in verbal sparring with Caroline across the dinner table, avoided his company whenever he made the suggestion of them spending time together, and seemed to almost enjoy looking for opportunities to torment him.
“Is anything the matter?” he asked, determined to retain the upper hand. After all, of the two of them, he had the most reason to be there.
“No,” she said, innocently. “Ought there to be?”
“It is quite a distance from the house,” Darcy said, patiently. “And very early. I hope Charles and I did not disturb you upon our departure.”
“I hardly noticed you at all.” There, that was a cutting tone of voice she had surely learned from her sister-in-law. Darcy shook off the barb, unwilling to let her know how her dismissive toss of the head hurt him. Despite the difference in their ages, they had always been close, perhaps because of the shared loss of their parents. The affair with Wickham had originally seemed to bring them closer, but no, that must have been fancy on his part, for this Georgiana was like a stranger to him.
“Well, would you like to join us?”
She arched an eyebrow.
“Riding and shooting and discussing matters of business?” she snorted. “I’d rather not, thank you.”
“Then perhaps we might accompany you back to Pemberley?” This suggestion came from over Darcy’s shoulder, and he noticed that Charles had likewise dismounted his horse, and towed them both. “What say you, Darcy? Are you about ready for breakfast?”
“Breakfast!” Georgiana turned away from Darcy altogether, offering a dazzling smile to his friend. “Well, Mr Bingley, that is a splendid idea, I must say. I shall certainly allow you to accompany me back. Perhaps my brother can see to the horses.”
Both gentlemen exchanged glances, and Darcy saw his own confusion reflected in Charles’ features. Nonetheless, after a moment of hesitation, his friend acquiesced and offered Georgiana his arm. She took it without an ounce of shyness, and instead began to speak quite familiarly to Charles Bingley as if he were her friend, and not her brother’s. It would almost be improper, but for the fact that the gentleman in question was Charles Bingley, and newly married. Surely Georgiana was merely trying to prove a point, to goad her brother into some reaction. He refused to rise to it but obediently followed the couple down the hill with both horses in tow.
I cannot help but think my choice of a wife was an equally unsuccessful a choice for a sister, as far as Georgiana was concerned. His thoughts flared before him, featuring another life, walking behind Georgiana once more, but this time seeing her arm in arm with a young lady with dark hair and bright eyes. The two chattered on happily as if they were close friends, and in this version of reality, Darcy did not mind being forgotten, left to trail behind the two ladies. He blinked, and the image was gone. Will I always be haunted by Elizabeth Bennet? he thought, as the party wound slowly back towards Pemberley.
CAROLINE WAS YET TO surface, and Annabelle, too, preferred to sleep late, and so it was a quiet table at breakfast that morning, seating only Charles, Darcy and Georgiana at almost equidistant places along the large table. Darcy had intended on sitting at one corner, for the three to enjoy a quiet meal. Instead, Georgiana had quite presumptuously moved to be closer to Charles in an effort, Darcy felt certain, to exclude him. He ought not to mind it, for truly it was some relief to see his sister willingly engaging in conversation, and to see Charles begin to emerge from the shell he had sunk into many months previously.
What he did not like was the pointed smiles and teasing comments that seemed so foreign coming out of Georgiana’s lips, and directed at Charles, who she knew to be married. If it were not so bewildering to him he would have made some attempt to end the conversation or to take Georgiana to task, but what could he say? She had been careful in her choices so that he could hold no particular comment or exchange up as particularly flirtatious or ill-advised, yet he was certain that was her intent.
If Charles noticed anything amiss he did not say as much, nor play along to any great degree with Georgiana’s flights of fancy. In fact, he acted every inch the gentleman, striving at every opportunity to involve Darcy in their discussion, to lead Georgiana back to topics that were more befitting the breakfast table. In short, he acted entirely as he should, and Darcy was grateful for him.
“Mr Bingley, if you wish to truly see all that is best and most beautiful about Pemberley, you must allow me to map out a walk for you this afternoon,” Georgiana said, with a dismissive toss of her head in Darcy’s direction. “My brother has hardly been here, and so I am sure his information is not current: nor has he ever been fond of doing anything for pleasure alone. But you are here for a visit, and you must want to enjoy yourself, so I will show you the most pleasant places to walk.”
“You are very kind, Miss Georgiana. I am sure my wife will be eager to see all that Pemberley has to offer -”
“Oh,” Georgiana sighed, extravagantly. “Yes, of course, Mrs Bingley might accompany us, should she wish to, only -” she paused and dropped her gaze. “I do so want to do it today and, well, she has yet to emerge.” She let out a light, musical laugh that sounded dangerous to Darcy’s ears. “She will have to hurry up and join us or I might steal you away!”
“I am sure she will not be long,” Bingley said, a little uncertainly. “And Caroline, too, will doubtless want to spend time with us. I have spoken to her little of late and am eager to know how she is settled here.”
“Do you not write?” Georgiana asked, innocently. “I know some brothers are wont t
o write often, always wanting to check up on their sisters in their absence, and ensure they are behaving as a properly brought up young lady ought to, and remaining closeted away from the world and other people lest they involve themselves in something scandalous -” she stopped speaking, suddenly, and changed tack. Her voice became altogether gentler. “I am sure you put full trust in your sister, Mr Bingley. How kind a brother you must have been to her, over the years.”
Bingley said nothing but focused with all his energy on the consumption of his breakfast.
“Georgiana.” Darcy cleared his throat. It took a second utterance of her name before she deigned to look up at him, and fixed him with a glare so intense that he felt shocked to his core. “I must speak with you a moment. Would you be so good as to step out into the hallway?”
“And leave our guest alone? Poor show, William!”
“I do not mind it!” Bingley said, hurriedly. “In fact - perhaps I ought to be the one to leave. Yes, I think - I think I will go and see if Annabelle might be persuaded to rise and join us on the walk you mentioned Miss - ah - Miss Georgiana.” He had hurried to his feet as he spoke and was halfway out of the door before he had even finished his sentence.
“That was rude,” Georgiana said, after a moment of icy silence had descended over the table.
“I fancy poor Bingley wanted a moment to himself,” Darcy remarked, drily. “You ought not to hang on him like that, Georgiana. It is not becoming.”
“And that is, of course, my aim in life. To be becoming in the opinion of my brother.” Georgiana had muttered this, half under her breath, yet Darcy caught every word.
“Must we always be at odds with one another these days, Georgie? We did not always fight like this. I thought -”
“You thought that I might stay your sweet-tempered little sister forever, never forming my own opinions or having my own wishes or plans for my life? That I might eagerly follow in your footsteps, and choose a miserable life married to a person I despise merely that I might appear content and avoid a scandal?”