Fourteen
Georgiana’s head was in a spin. She tried to deny it, but she wondered if she was falling in love. As their guests departed, she stood by the window looking out into the street. Dark, heavy clouds were gathering to the east, and Georgiana conjectured as to whether they would have snow that night. While she stood watching, the first spots of rain splashed against the windowpane. Then another and another, until she noticed they were icy.
“Pining the loss of your beau already?” Aunt Henrietta chuckled as she came up beside her.
“No, I was watching the sleet. It will be another cold night, for sure.”
“Come now,” the older lady said, slipping her arm through Georgiana’s. “You cannot fool me. You’re watching Lord Hugh’s carriage make its way down the street.”
Georgiana bristled at the insinuation she had lied. She turned her head and glared at her matronly aunt as she continued to stare at the windowpane herself.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of.” Aunt Henrietta kept her eyes ahead. “He is quite a catch, you know. You will make a fine couple and have all of society envious of you both.”
Georgiana did not know what to say. Was she listening in to what Lord Hugh said to me?
“How exciting it will be to have another wedding in the family!” Aunt Henrietta finally turned and gazed upon her niece. “You will make such a beautiful bride,” she said reaching up and stroking Georgiana’s cheek.
Unable to help herself, Georgiana blushed.
“What did he say to you when he joined you on the settee,” she asked, removing her hand from Georgiana’s face. “Did he declare his intentions?”
Georgiana shook her head. “I cannot quite rightly say. It is all a blur to me. I believe…” She touched her own cheeks, the coolness of her fingers refreshing her red-hot face. “I believe he declared affection for me, but other than that…” She continued to shake her head.
“It is always confusing for a lady, is it not?” Aunt Henrietta smiled kindly, her eyes full of wisdom. “Men believe they have told us everything we need to know, but what a lady really needs to hear are the words plainly and simply—I love you and will you marry me?”
Georgiana burst out laughing. “Yes, the whole thing would be a great deal easier if men would just speak plainly instead of in poetic, flowery language.”
Aunt Henrietta led her back towards the fireplace. “And what about your affections, my dear? Are you in love with Lord Hugh?”
Georgiana was uncomfortable as she sat down on the armchair on the opposite side of the fireplace. She was not accustomed to such direct questions, even from a family member. “I believe I like him very much, and he is prodigiously handsome.”
“Like him?” Aunt Henrietta laughed. “You like him very much. Liking someone very much is not the same as being in love with them, Georgiana.”
“I know, Aunt.” Georgiana fiddled with her skirt over her knees and recalled her conversation with Lord Hugh. “I certainly feel as though I am in love when I am around him, and then…”
“And the pair of you have all the appearance of being in love.”
“As to whether my heart is truly attached to Lord Hugh upon so short an acquaintance, I cannot say.”
She looked up at her aunt desperately. “I would not wish to marry a man whom I did not love ardently. What I want, what I should so dearly wish for, is a love like Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth have.”
Aunt Henrietta nodded slowly. “I believe their path to matrimony was not an easy one.”
“You are right, even though Elizabeth always tells it with a smile on her face.” Georgiana looked back towards the window, gazed through it, and instantly in her mind she was back at Pemberley with her brother and new sister-in-law. “Their love is so deep that I believe they would do anything for each other. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, Fitzwilliam did everything in his power to gain Elizabeth.”
“Well, I do not know anything about that,” Aunt Henrietta replied. “But I do know this. If he did everything in his power to gain the woman he loves, then he truly loves. Does not the Bard say Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove?”
“Hmm…” Georgiana looked back at her aunt, a smile lighting up her face. “Shakespeare. I’ve always loved Sonnet 116.”
“He goes on to tell us that love is steadfast and unchanging. If this is what you have or wish to have with Lord Hugh, or with any gentleman that you decide to marry, my dear, then you must give it time.” She leant forward. “Heed my advice, child. I wish only the best for you, and I would not wish you married to anyone undeserving of your love or whom you did not love as ardently as Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth do each other.” She smiled. Her eyes were warm and kindly. “You are young still. There is plenty of time. But most of all, I wish you to be very happy in marriage. Very few women have that opportunity. However, it is up to you. It is in your hands.”
Slowly, Georgiana nodded, feeling the weight of her aunt’s words. “You are right, Aunt. There is no hurry to marry.” She returned her aunt’s smile. “I do not know what has come over me. I lose my head when he is around.”
“Enjoy this season, Georgiana. Enjoy falling in love with Lord Hugh, if that is what is happening to you. But remember that you wish for ardent love, deep love, everlasting love. Do not compromise.” The older woman stood. “Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to take a nap. I will join you for dinner tonight.”
“Very well, Aunt. Sleep well.”
Left alone in the drawing room, Georgiana stared into the flames dancing in the fireplace and pondered her aunt’s advice. She was right. Georgiana Darcy would not settle for anything less than the deepest and most fervent love. Of that she was certain. Therefore, as she too felt her eyelids heavy and sleep drawing in, she determined to slow things down a little with Lord Hugh. After all, we barely know each other.
She leant back and settled into the plush armchair, a smile playing on her lips as she started to doze off to sleep. Her mind drifted to her cousin Richard yet again. She wondered what was so urgent to take him away from London so rapidly. As she heard another icy blast batter the windowpane, she wondered if the weather would prevent Richard and Alex from reaching home as quickly as they had predicted.
The room was dark, the curtains were shut, and all the candles were lit by the time Georgiana awoke a few hours later. She shifted in the chair, stretching her stiff limbs, and realised someone at some point had covered her with a blanket and rebuilt the fire.
She smiled sleepily, glad she had come to London for the Christmas season. As she sat up, there was but one thing on her mind, How soon will Richard return?
Fifteen
The journey home was more laborious than they had anticipated. The wind increased, and the rain fell incessantly, turning to sleet before they reached London. Richard’s face hurt. It stung from the icy droplets assaulting them as they rode on to their destination. Stopping each time to change the horses, they were beyond glad to enter an inn to warm themselves through by the fire. By the time they stopped to recover their own steeds, their stomachs rumbled and their hands and feet were like blocks of ice.
“You’d best not tarry if you want to get to London town before this storm really sets in,” the barkeep advised, handing them two flagons of ale and two bowls of soup.
Alex looked up at the window. “He’s right, you know. That sleet is now turning to snow.”
Richard’s brow furrowed. The last thing he wanted was to have to spend the night outside London. He wanted to get back to Pembroke Square. He hoped earnestly to prevent an attachment before Georgiana gave away her heart to a man Richard believed to be a worthless fortune hunter.
“Well, eat up. There’s more in the kitchens if you want. And,” the barkeep wiped his chubby hands on the grubby apron skirt, “we have one last room available, but you have to be quick. I imagine most folks travelling into London are going to stop tonight.”
Richard no
dded once. “We shall eat and depart immediately. I thank you for your kind attentions, but the truth is we must get home tonight.”
“Fair enough. Suit yourselves. You know where to find me if you need me.”
Once the barkeep had returned behind the bar and was happily chatting away with his other patrons, Alex leant forward. “Why the hurry?”
“I…just…” Richard sighed. He returned the spoon to the bowl of soup. He locked eyes with his friend and hoped Alex could read how sincere he was. “I need to get back. I need to let Georgiana know what kind of man Lord Hugh is.”
Alex swallowed his mouthful of food. “And how exactly do you plan to do that? You can’t just go in there and blurt it out. You need to be tactful, Richard. If your cousin, Miss Darcy, is in love with Lord Hugh, who are you to prevent it?”
Richard thought of every excuse under the sun to counter Alex’s question; however, he knew he was right. If Richard burst in after Georgiana had already given her heart to Lord Hugh, he would only cause derision and strife. Most likely, she would not forgive him for trying to interfere in her happiness. He had to slow down and think carefully.
“Do you want to stay overnight?” Alex asked.
“No.” Richard rubbed at his face, the feeling coming back into his numb nose. “I still want to get back tonight. But,” he paused, “you are right. I cannot just blurt it out. We have to think of what to do.”
Alex washed his mouth out with ale. “It might be a good idea to find out what the man’s intentions are towards your cousin first.”
Richard stared at him hard.
“It may very well be that he is in love with her. For real this time. Let us not make him desperate.”
“Very rarely have I ever met a man who changes his behaviour so very quickly, and especially not after a severe warning from his own father.” Richard remembered all he knew about George Wickham.
“I agree with you on that. Generally that is the case. In this case, your cousin’s heart is at stake. Let’s not be responsible for breaking it. Let us bide our time, a week or two at most. We will watch him and find out what it is he wants. If he is only after your cousin’s fortune and is keeping a doxy, then we will know what to do.”
Richard sat back in the chair and puffed out his cheeks.
“And if he does not keep a doxy and is not after your cousin’s fortune, then we must leave very well alone.” Alex held Richard’s gaze. “I also believe it would be best to keep Mrs Murray’s existence from your cousin for the time being.”
Richard nodded. “Agreed.”
* * *
Georgiana heard the rapping at the front door and the ringing of the bell. Her knife and fork clattered onto the plate, and she was on her feet in a flash. Before dinner was called, the sleet had turned to heavy snow. When Aunt Henrietta descended the stairs after her nap, she was agitated and worried for her son.
Georgiana had assured her that, should they have been caught in the worsening weather, that Richard and Alex would have found shelter for the night. This did little to allay her fears. At the sound of the banging on the door, Georgiana straightaway believed the gentlemen had returned.
As she rushed headlong into the entrance hall, she encountered Hobbs walking sedately and rhythmically towards the front door. She halted and clasped her hands in front of her. It would not do to panic. If they are home, they are home, safe and well.
In a matter of seconds, the door was opened to reveal Richard and Alex, covered from head to foot in snow.
Upon seeing them safely returned, a sense of relief rushed through Georgiana, and she burst out laughing. “My goodness! You both look like snowmen!”
Glancing up at her as he stamped the snow off his boots on to the doormat, Richard’s face lit up and he chuckled. “I expect we do.”
“I know one thing for sure,” Alex added. “I’m chilled to the bone.”
“Oh, my dear boy,” Aunt Henrietta said as she walked past Georgiana. Immediately the experience of her long years as a mother and the mistress of her own home took over. She turned to Hobbs. “Have hot water prepared, baths drawn up, and light the fires in both my son’s room and the guestroom adjoining it.” She then addressed Alex. “You shall stay here tonight. I cannot brook the thought of your going out in that weather again. This blasted winter!”
Alex did not resist. He continued to remove his outerwear and his boots.
“I do not know, for the life of me, what could have been so important to take you away from home, knowing what the newspapers were warning about this winter.” Aunt Henrietta tugged at the lace handkerchief in her hands.
“Mama, you know I cannot divulge that information, but trust me, the trip was necessary.” He leant in and kissed her on the cheek.
“Oh! Your face is like ice!” She pulled away from him. “Quick, the pair of you, get upstairs and get changed into some dry clothing. Hobbs will bring you some food and you can take a hot bath.” She stole a quick glance towards the drawing room.
Georgiana observed that Aunt Henrietta’s face was pinched and her worry lines were deeper.
“If you are both feeling up to it, you may join us in the drawing room afterwards. I’m sure a little port will warm your bellies nicely.”
“Yes, Mama,” Richard replied, his eyes firmly on Georgiana as he headed towards the staircase. Just the sight of her warmed his heart.
“Yes, Lady Matlock,” Alex bowed as he shuffled in wet socks across the polished wooden floor.
The two ladies stood staring mutely up the staircase and watching the ascent of the gentlemen until they disappeared into the darkness beyond.
“Well, at least they are at home now,” Georgiana spoke, her voice quiet.
“Let us pray that neither one catches their death of cold.” Aunt Henrietta walked past her niece and back into the dining room.
Georgiana wondered for a moment if anyone did, indeed, die of cold anymore. A little fluttering started in her heart. She clasped her hands tighter together and said a little prayer for Richard and Alex’s health.
Sixteen
The following day was a flurry of activity as they prepared for the dinner party. Aunt Henrietta invited Richard’s friend Louis Ashton and his sister, Mrs Nicolette Fotheringhay. Also on the guest list were the DeVeres, Alex Salisbury, and Alex’s promised bride-to-be, Miss Rebecca Hardwick, the daughter of a wealthy mill owner from the north of England. Georgiana believed she had made Miss Hardwick’s acquaintance the summer before at a garden party her Aunt and Uncle Matlock held at their home.
Aunt Henrietta thought long and hard about the guest list and, in Georgiana’s opinion, it had been designed with her in mind. Apart from Aunt Henrietta, there were four young ladies: Georgiana, Lady Francesca, Mrs Fotheringhay, and Miss Hardwick. Their male counterparts were Richard, Alex, Louis, and Lord Hugh. For such a small dinner party, Georgiana assumed the intention was for a little dancing.
She was not wrong in her assumption when she observed the drawing room being rearranged and Aunt Henrietta’s beloved spinet being carried in. Georgiana knew her aunt was in her uncle’s study, hiding from all the hustle and bustle. She did not like upheaval.
The day continued in much the same vein. The doorbell rang constantly with deliveries of flowers, coal for the fire, and food for the kitchens. The family ate their meals in the breakfast room; and, when it was time for Georgiana to prepare for the party, she found herself reluctant and not at all excited.
“Is there anything amiss, Miss Darcy?” Meg asked her as she helped her change undergarments.
“Would you believe me if I told you that I was not particularly enthused about tonight’s party?” Georgiana asked, watching her maid’s reflection in the long looking glass she stood before.
“But Colonel Fitzwilliam’s friends and your new acquaintances will be there,” Meg replied, her brows knit together.
Georgiana leant against the dressing table as Meg tied the fastenings behind her. “You are right.” S
o why would I be perfectly happy if tonight’s soirée was cancelled entirely? she asked herself.
Stepping into the scarlet dress with lace trimmings, she gazed at her own reflection. She greatly admired this dress, carefully chosen by herself and Elizabeth. Suddenly, the merriment of the season came upon her. She smiled. “This dress makes me feel decidedly Christmassy.” She giggled. “Is Christmassy a word?”
“I can’t rightly say, Miss,” Meg giggled in return as she fastened the buttons on the back of Georgiana’s dress. “I’m no expert on such things, but I do catch the meaning. It’s a nice feeling. I do love this time of the year.”
Georgiana’s mind took her back to Pemberley and all the Christmases she could remember. “Yes, this time of the year has a special sort of magic to it, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Miss, it does.”
Georgiana slipped on her long silk gloves as Meg attended to her hair. She decided on a simple style, making the most of her natural curls. However, she conceded that such a beautiful dress deserved hair adornments to crown it. She opened the drawer in the dressing table and withdrew a flat box covered with duck-egg blue damask. The corners were now a little tatty and threadbare and the clasp stuck. The jewellery box had once belonged to Georgiana’s mother, Lady Anne Darcy. Now it was one of Georgiana’s most prized possessions.
Carefully she opened the lid, revealing a selection of jewellery and hair ornaments, some having belonged to her mother, some newer pieces. She knew which she wanted. Inside she found six hairpins with diamond stars on their ends. She wore them every Christmas.
Georgiana twisted on the stool and handed them to Meg.
Her mother had also owned a simple matching necklace and bracelet, each with a single star made of diamonds. She traced a finger over the cool surface of one of the little stars, remembering the last time she saw her mother wear them. That had been the last Christmas they had celebrated together. Once she was old enough to be trusted with the precious jewels, Georgiana had religiously worn them each year since. Somehow, they made her feel as though her mother was there beside her. The thought filled her with courage.
Miss Darcy's Christmas Page 10