Darcy, always a calming presence, did his best to alleviate his wife’s worries, but he too had not felt any sense of serenity in weeks. There were simply too many social demands. Hopefully, Miss Bingley would soon be absent from their lives and a sense of normalcy could return. How could one person cause so much distress? Yet, he knew the worst was to come. Ned had hinted that he planned some sort of scheme to get Caroline to marry him. He only hoped that it would not do irreparable damage to them all. Ned had never cared a whit for anyone’s opinions, but he did not have a family or unmarried sister to think of first. And now, as the music changed for the second dance, he watched with some curiosity as Georgiana took the hand of Robbie Brackleburn. A more perfect match could not be had, he thought. Curtsying to his bow, Georgiana could not appear happier as they moved about the room. However, this was short lived, as they swept past for the second time, the brilliant smile on her face had disappeared. What was the nature of their conversation to enact such a drastic change? Gesturing to Elizabeth, she followed his gaze with equal concern. Georgiana looked close to tears as they finished the last turn, but held her emotions until the music stopped, then fled from the dance floor.
“I shall see to her. Perhaps it is nothing, young ladies can sometimes be temperamental,” Elizabeth offered, but knew it to be untrue. Both she and Darcy were well aware that Georgiana was not one for tantrums.
It did not take long for Elizabeth to discover where Georgiana had gone. As all of the guests were either in the ballroom or library, she headed outside. Despite the season being early winter, the gardens at Piper’s Bend still displayed an ethereal sense of beauty. A light fog had rolled in and now swirled around the shrubbery, providing cover for the naked branches. It was here, on a secluded bench more appropriate for lovers, that Georgiana had sought refuge. Her tears flowed unchecked as she choked back sobs. Silently, Elizabeth took up the empty space beside her and placed a comforting arm about her shoulders, sharing the light shawl she wore. For a few minutes, the elder woman simply let her cry before seeking a cause for her distress.
“So… what is so terrible that it sends you running from a man you love?”
“He… he… he knows about Wickham…”
“So? That was many years ago and was stopped before any damage was done.”
“But…but that cannot be proven, and I did not know what to say. Even though I did not actually commit any impropriety, there is always the suspicion. I trusted Robbie, but apparently he does not trust me.”
Elizabeth knew this all to well. After failure to seduce Georgiana, George Wickham had set his sights on her own sister. Lydia Bennet had not the good fortune of interference by an elder brother, or the means to buy his absence. Unfortunately, that was what Darcy had done to secure his sister’s reputation from damage despite having intervened before any compromise. Lydia, however, was far more conniving. Marriage had been her intent the entire time and had been willing to risk scandal to ensure it happened. It had once again taken Darcy’s influence… and money, to preserve a young lady’s reputation. Money, and the threat of debtor’s prison had convinced Wickham to agree to marry Lydia. But, now, that too seemed ages ago. What had caused it to be brought out again? Who would have known and be willing to ruin Georgiana’s chances with Robbie Brackleburn? Everyone she knew seemed to wholeheartedly approve of any potential match between them. Everyone but Caroline Bingley… had that been her plan the entire time? To ruin Georgiana as a revenge against Darcy for marrying another? While Elizabeth hated to think so poorly of another, it was the only possibility. And, if true, she was responsible for bringing the horrid woman to Pemberley. In her attempt to save one sister, she had ruined another’s happiness. Closing her eyes, Elizabeth took a deep breath of resolve before speaking again.
“Tell me, what exactly did Robbie say.”
Georgiana had stopped her sobbing and now just stared off at some unknown distant point. Her initial outburst had transformed into a calm despair.
“He asked me why I was keeping secrets from him, but I honestly did not know to what he was referring. Thinking it something trivial I did not immediately respond. ‘I take your silence as guilt’ he said. When I said that I did not understand what he meant, he spoke that terrible man’s name…but nothing ever happened. My brother found us long before. I suppose I am guilty, for I did believe I was in love with him, and went willingly.”
Even now, nearly seven years later, Georgiana found herself unable to speak George Wickham’s name. As with all first experiences with love, when it is proven false, the pain of it can be permanent. Elizabeth considered herself fortunate to have never been in such a situation, as it was, she who had rejected Darcy. However, understanding did little to alleviate Georgiana’s current situation.
“The only thing you have to be guilty of is being in possession of a kind and trusting heart. I should hardly think that anyone would be expected to discuss every person with whom they had a childhood crush.”
“Yes, but we both know that I would have married him had Fitzwilliam not interfered. It was just the way that Robbie looked at me… it was as if I were somehow tainted.”
“I am sure that if your brother speaks with him and explains, all will be well again, simply a misunderstanding.”
“I don’t think so. Whomever told him about it surely meant to keep us apart. Besides, I am getting far too old to have my brother interfering on my behalf.”
“But it is not fair to have your reputation sullied.”
“Life is not fair, that much I have learned. I do thank you Elizabeth, for everything, but I think I should like to be alone for a while. I cannot bear returning to the dance and have Robbie’s disapproving eyes upon me, perhaps it is best that I retire. Can you make excuses for me?”
“As you wish, but I will want to discuss this matter with Darcy. He will want to know the reason for your distress. We shall return to Pemberley first thing in the morning. If you do not come down to breakfast, I will come to your chamber when we are ready to leave.”
Georgiana nodded, and gratefully accepted Elizabeth’s shawl as she left her in the frozen garden. Gazing about, she wondered how easy it would be to simply sit there and slowly die of exposure. Like going to sleep, never to wake and experience rejection again.
~TWENTY-ONE~
Ned Grandby-Jones had taken care with his appearance that evening, giving excellent credit to his title of Viscount Adley, but it had done little to entice the attentions of Miss Caroline Bingley. If he had not known better, he would say that she was avoiding him. But each time she passed by on the ballroom floor in the arms of another partner, her eyes stared directly into his, as if issuing a challenge. Even poor Robbie Brackleburn was assaulted by her charms. What was she up to? Undaunted, Ned only smiled in return, he would bide his time before making a move, but after tonight, she would have little alternative but to marry him. Already, he had laid his trap. Having entered her chamber after she had gone below to join the party, he had idly sorted through her belongings much like a thief in the night.
For the most part, all he found was the usual array of clothing and fripperies that made up any lady’s wardrobe. It was only when he opened a strangely familiar envelope bearing the name of a notorious French manufacturer that his amusement took another interest.
“Well well, Miss Bingley, what were you planning to do with these?” he muttered to himself, carefully concealing the packet of French letters she had hidden in her small clothes. It appeared that his future wife was well acquainted with an intimacy supposedly unknown to unmarried ladies. Smirking to himself, he replaced everything in the room as he had found it. It was of no matter to him that he may not be her first. On the contrary, he quite preferred women with a bit of experience, it saved time. If only she knew how this bit of information would only serve to seal her fate. By this time tomorrow, Caroline Bingley would be formally engaged to him, or suffer complete ruin.
Now, as he crossed the room to stand next to the
man he considered his closest friend, Ned worried for a moment that Darcy would not agree to his scheme. If nothing else, Fitzwilliam Darcy was honorable. It would take an extreme issue to make him do anything disreputable, but he was desperate. Surely Darcy would see the ultimate wisdom in his actions, and Caroline did like him, of that he was sure. Eventually, he would make her love him… or hate him completely.
“I say Darcy, what has become of your beautiful wife and sister? I expected them to be dancing their feet off.”
Darcy sighed as the forced smile on his face gave way to a frown.
“I fear that there has been some sort of disagreement between Robbie and Georgiana. Elizabeth has gone to her.”
“Surely nothing serious.”
“I hope not, but I have not seen Georgiana look that way since…”
Darcy’s voice faltered, he did not need to explain anything, Ned was aware of George Wickham’s attempt to elope with Georgiana. If he had not lent his assistance in finding them, it might have been too late. For that, he owed Ned a tremendous debt.
“If I may be of any use…”
“Thank you, but don’t you have your own plans for this evening? Promise me it is nothing too drastic.”
Ned smiled sardonically. “Don’t worry, I shall only give the appearance of one completely besotted… all I need are the appropriate witnesses. Shortly before midnight? By then everyone should be retiring. Agnes Brackleburn is not one to dance until dawn, the events at Piper’s Bend always end early.”
“Yes, and for once I am grateful. I must be getting old. It is only ten o’ clock and I could sleep where I stand.”
Elizabeth Darcy returned to her husband’s side just in time to hear these words, but no others. It would benefit them both to retire early and discuss what had happened between Robbie Brackleburn and Georgiana. If he was feeling tired now, the news would do little to ensure a restful sleep.
“Old, my foot, but I do admit to being a bit fatigued myself today,” Elizabeth said. Sometimes, she found the state of pregnancy to be very convenient.
“I should be glad to escort you,” Darcy immediately offered.
“Perhaps not just yet, but soon. I want to have a word with Agnes Brackleburn first. As our hostess, I should not want her thinking we were not enjoying our visit.”
“I shall be waiting right here.”
Elizabeth pressed Darcy’s arm gently before taking her leave. Whatever had been told to Robbie Brackleburn would surely be known by his sister, and she was not one to hide her opinions.
~TWENTY-TWO~
It had taken Elizabeth longer than she had hoped to have a moment alone with Agnes Brackleburn. As hostess, the woman was in constant demand by her guests, but nearly an hour later, Elizabeth managed to find her alone in the great hall.
“Lady Agnes? Might I have a word of some delicacy?”
Agnes flinched slightly at the sound of Elizabeth Darcy’s soft voice. Not only was the tone of some concern, but never before had Elizabeth used her title. A flush of guilt, pinked her cheeks, but was soon replaced by indignation. Mrs. Darcy would have known about Georgiana’s disgrace and taken pains to keep it hidden. She was equally responsible for breaking her brother’s heart.
“Of course, perhaps we might go into the small parlor? It is private there.”
Elizabeth observed the beautiful woman’s form as she led the way to the suggested room. Her shoulders, normally erect with good posture, now seemed bent, as if by some great burden. Why had she been away from the party? Waiting until the door was closed, Elizabeth smiled sadly when Agnes gestured to a tapestried divan.
“Some respite? I have noticed the changes in you that a woman has when she is expecting, but I doubt that is the reason for your request.”
“Thank you… and no, you are quite correct. I wish to discuss Miss Darcy.”
“I see, but before you begin any sort of defense of her character, believe me when I say that I do not hold her responsible in any way. It is just that if a lady is to marry the Earl of Brackleburn, she must be above all reproach. Even the barest hint of scandal cannot touch her. Any connection, however small, to George Wickham must be avoided.”
“Yet you will punish an innocent all the same.”
“I do not… society will. Eventually, these sorts of things come out. I would only spare them both the pain.”
“Then I wonder that you bothered to invite myself and Darcy to your home. Surely you must know that the man in question is married to my youngest sister.”
Agnes sucked in a breath. She had not been aware until now. The situation was becoming more awkward.
“Our families have been close for generations. The children of Pemberley and Piper’s Bend were practically raised together, but that is where it ends. No marriage between them can take place, not while there is the possibility of Georgiana being compromised.”
“I assure you she was not. What other proof is required?”
“You say that because it is what your husband has told you. But I know the lengths all too well that a parent… or a sibling, will go to protect another. It is a known fact that money and prominence can buy silence. I am only protecting my brother.”
By now, a slow simmering anger threatened to erupt inside Elizabeth, and she fought the desire to allow it free reign. Unfortunately, there was entirely too much truth to Agnes’ words. It had taken a great deal of money to save the Bennet family. But this was not her home, and she would not embarrass Darcy by her behavior. Choosing her words carefully, she posed a poignant question.
“Is he not of an age to choose for himself? Would you want another to designate who is to make you happy?”
“I fear that his heart clouds his mind.”
“Well then, if he is so easily swayed from his own desires by the demands of another, I should not wish for the match either. Georgiana deserves a man who can stand on his own, not under the shadow of another!”
To this retort, Agnes did not reply, but turned her back on Elizabeth signifying an end to the conversation. Unfortunately, it was not so easy to escape the heat of confrontation as a disturbance from outside the chamber could be heard. To both women’s dismay, the voices so easily heard belonged to that of Miss Bingley and Viscount Adley. Striding past where Elizabeth still sat, Agnes left the parlor to discover a terrified maid with her hand poised to knock, disturbing their privacy.
“I’m…I’m sorry ma’am but its Viscount Adley and Mr. Darcy’s guest. They are in a bit of a quarrel… and it is causing a scene.”
Agnes stared upwards with her arms folded in an attempt to control her own building rage as the maid gestured to the noise that continued to drift below from the bedchambers. Piper’s Bend, being a rather compact place filled with random vents to promote ease of heating, echoed terribly as the stones carried any sound. The entire household would know every detail of whatever was taking place above.
“Now what has he done?”
Her question was more of an invocation for divine assistance than inquiry, to Elizabeth’s ears, yet Agnes voiced no objection as the mistress of Pemberley accompanied her above stairs to discover the nature of the shouting. Hoping for some sort of natural accident, instead of what she had known to expect from her childhood companion, Agnes paused behind the small crowd of guests that now crowded outside the door to Miss Bingley’s chamber. From inside, the demands of Ned Grandby-Jones were clear to all.
“I don’t want to be friends Caroline! Not after all we have shared… It is only proper that we marry, and I shall not take no for an answer!”
“When hell freezes!”
This reply, was followed by the sound of something breaking against a wall. Their words were met with a mixture of mirth and feigned shock as the nearly dozen people anxiously awaited the next exchange. Finding Darcy, Elizabeth took refuge at his side as Agnes Brackleburn strode to the chamber door and yanked it open, exposing a most scandalous scene.
~TWENTY-THREE~
A mere tw
enty minutes earlier, Ned had gotten tired of being ignored. Leaving Darcy to observe, he walked with deliberation across the ballroom and took the arm of Miss Bingley, much to the surprise of her current partner.
“Do excuse us, but there is something rather pressing that I must discuss with Miss Bingley,” he announced in a tone that did not brook contradiction. Placing her gloved hand in his elbow, he covered it with his own, applying a pressure that prevented her release. Sputtering apologies, Caroline did not voice her feelings until they were alone in the great hall. Only a young footman, nodding with sleep stood sentry to their conversation.
“How dare you drag me away? What could possibly be so damned important?”
“This,” Ned growled out as his lips crushed hers. He had wrapped one arm around her waist, folding her form against his as she attempted to twist away. Freeing an arm from his embrace, she swung her open palm upwards, relishing in the sting as made contact with his face. The slap rang out, but there was no one to hear.
“Do that again and I shall hit you back,” he threatened. His face flamed from her attack, but he was not finished. Never again would she taunt him across a room.
“Release me or I shall scream the house down.”
“Go ahead, and I shall tell everyone how much you enjoyed it,” he dared, but before she could raise her voice Ned hoisted her over his shoulder and took the stairs by twos, not stopping his pace until he dumped her unceremoniously on the velvet counterpane that graced the fourposter bed of her chamber. With the wind knocking the breath from her lungs, Caroline shot venomous glares in Ned’s direction as he kicked the door shut.
“Your behavior this evening was appalling… a woman your age should know better than to throw herself at every man present. What are you expecting from them? A marriage offer? You are nearly ten years older than poor Robbie Brackleburn. Did you put something in his drink to make him fawn over you? And that silly child, Evan Waterson… he must be only twenty. The Darcy’s must be mortified.”
Matchmaking at Pemberley Page 9