Elizabeth cast a final fleeting glance out of the window before walking over to join her sister. “Oh it is so good to be back here and to be restored to your company.” She reached out and took Jane’s hands, giving them a squeeze. “I have missed you dreadfully, and to arrive and find you in much improved spirits… Come, tell me more – you clearly felt unable to talk freely in front of our aunt.”
“Oh, Lizzy, you will think me so very bad,” Jane blushed and sank down to sit upon the bed, her gaze cast towards the floor.
“Impossible!” Elizabeth laughed, but then she studied her sister more closely and detecting the change in her demeanour hurried to sit beside her. “Jane, what is it?”
“I am so thankful for Nicholas’s presence. All I could think of was how much I wanted to look at Mr Bingley. I could hardly believe that he was there. I wanted to stare at him, so many months has it been since I saw his face.” Jane stopped, and it did not take more than a fleeting glance for Elizabeth to detect that her eyes were quite moist.
“Dear Jane. Your feelings are perfectly natural, and there is nothing wrong with them.”
“But I wish to not raise my hopes. He called merely out of courtesy; yet when our eyes first met, when he first entered the room...” Jane raised her anxious gaze to meet her sister’s. “I am certain I did not mistake the look upon his face. At least, whatever I saw today is entirely what I saw in Hertfordshire and… oh Lizzy, I so do not want to be led wrong again. How can I guard my heart against him, when it is even now in his possession?”
Elizabeth patted her sister’s arm and stood up. “It might be wise to give Mr Bingley the benefit of the doubt over his awareness of your presence in Town – after all, we have no reason to suspect him of duplicity.”
She walked over to the mirror on the dresser, feeling a little uncomfortable, being certain of Mr Bingley's innocence, and she made a pretence of poking at her hair, before espying a stray pin and using it to fasten a loose curl into place before turning back to face her sister. “And indeed, he has agreed to return this evening to meet Uncle Gardiner, has he not?”
Jane nodded, smiling wistfully. “Nicholas has given me much cheer these past seven days. It is impossible to indulge in melancholy when he is near. And oh, dear Lizzy,” Jane broke off and laughed, “he was so comical this morning, quite put out to discern that you were not expected until the afternoon. He knew not, of course, that uncle’s carriage had been delayed from setting out for Kent until later than planned. He insisted that he would not remove himself until you had arrived! Indeed, Mr Bingley seemed most amused, though I am sure he misunderstood. All the signs might well lead him to think Nicholas enamoured of you!”
“And why, pray, should that amuse you so? Am I so unpalatable a choice?” Elizabeth pretended indignation, but could not keep her face straight and laughed.
“Dear Lizzy, you are more than palatable. Indeed, I can still recall Mama’s disappointment when he last visited Longbourn, so certain was she that she could find a wife for him between either you or I!”
Elizabeth laughed again. “Poor Nicholas! He has never braved the wilds of Hertfordshire since. And poor Mama – how I have thwarted her matrimonial hopes.” She faltered, fully cognisant of the one disappointment she would ever have to conceal from her mother. “But Nicholas is just too… agreeable. And I am not, and you know I could never marry a man who is!”
“Lizzy!”
“But continue, you were telling of Nicholas’ tantrum!”
“Aunt Gardiner refused to let him sit and wait and eventually shooed him out the door like a disgruntled bantam. He had determined to return this afternoon, but Aunt has banished him from the house until this evening, claiming that you would be in need of rest after your journey, not torment, and that it is only fair I should have first claim upon your time today.”
“Well, I cannot fault her for that.” Elizabeth pulled open the drawer beneath the mirror, seeking another hairpin. “Jane, would you please pass me my comb – it is on the bedside table.”
Jane walked over to Elizabeth’s side of the bed and picked up the comb. “What is this?”
Elizabeth turned to glance at Jane who held the book she had been attempting to read during her journey from Kent. “Oh, nothing. It is but a marker for my page.”
Walking over to the dresser, Jane handed her sister the comb before opening the book to where the marker protruded. “Dear Lizzy! How typical of you!”
“It is a morsel I retrieved from the ground when I stretched my legs at Bromley. Why should it amuse you so?”
Jane threw her sister a fond look and replaced the neatly woven stick into the pages before closing the book once more and placing it on a nearby table.
“It is not its purpose that amuses me. It is what is says about you. No fine tooled leather or elegant embroidery will suffice as a marker when nature can provide her own alternative.”
Elizabeth gave her hair one final pat and turned around.
“Aye, well – show me a man that can fashion a marker from wild grass, and I shall prefer him every day to one who can handle a needle with finesse!”
“Lizzy!”
The girls met each other’s eye and the sheer contentment of being together again caused them to slide into a bout of giggles. Then, composing themselves as best they could, they linked arms and left the room to join their aunt downstairs.
~o0o~
At the appointed time, Darcy found himself outside the door to his sister’s sitting room, and at her bidding he let himself in. Georgiana stood near her writing table perusing a letter which she put aside before coming to greet him.
“Good afternoon, Georgiana,”
“Good afternoon, Brother. I apologise if my request for your company disrupts your business.”
Darcy placed a kiss upon her forehead before steering her over to the chairs by the hearth, noting the strategically placed tray of tea, cakes and neatly sliced bread and butter on a small circular table.
“It is no disturbance, I can assure you. There is little to interest me upon my desk.” Darcy took the chair across from his sister as she seated herself and studied her thoughtfully for a moment. The girl opposite him differed vastly from the one who had greeted him so enthusiastically on his return from the Pulteney the day before. Though she met his gaze quite firmly, she was pale and her manner quite strained.
He had hoped for a full return of her customary spirits, yet today she seemed reminiscent of the saddened, changed Georgiana of recent months.
“Are you well, Georgie? You seem somewhat subdued.”
“I am perfectly well, Brother.” Georgiana paused and swallowed visibly. Then she shook her hair back over her shoulder and sat up straight in her chair before fixing Darcy with her eye. For a moment, he felt a shiver of apprehension, yet before he could speak she said, “I – I wish to ask you what took place in Kent.”
Darcy blinked once, and then shook his head as if to deny her words, but before he could react further she added, “I want you – I would very much like for you to tell me – about Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Chapter Twenty Five
The silence that followed Georgiana’s request lengthened as Darcy stared back at her. His foremost thought, to utter a denial, he quickly negated. The anxiety he could detect upon his sister’s countenance at her own boldness was belied by the set of her shoulders and the gleam in her eye. He felt instinctively that she was confident he could not deny knowledge of Elizabeth. But what else might she be privy to?
Darcy moved restlessly in his chair before clearing his throat. “How – who – how came you…”
“How came I to be familiar with that name?” Georgiana smiled slightly and shook her head at him. “How many women not yet of my acquaintance do you think you have ever written of to me?”
Darcy blinked, his mind devoid of an answer, and as his gaze met his sister’s once more, she nodded.
“Precisely. It is rare enough that you refer at all to your
social interactions in our correspondence, and never do you allude to the new female acquaintances you make. All I have ever had from you is a vague ‘the female company’ or ‘the ladies present’, and even, if I recall correctly on one occasion, ‘there were few who were not men’.” Georgiana let out a small huff of indignation. “So you see, Fitz, having mentioned this particular lady’s name, as you did once in a letter from Hertfordshire, coupled with this intelligence of her in Kent…”
The reinforcement of her earlier words sent a tremor of foreboding through Darcy, and he stood up abruptly, running a hand through his hair and then clasping his hands together to still his fingers. He stared at Georgiana, who had fallen silent the moment he had risen to his feet. She stared back at him, a combination of determination and nervousness on her countenance. Then, he expelled a frustrated breath.
“I shall throttle your cousin.”
“Anne?”
“Richard.”
“What has Richard to do with this?”
“Then it was not he who…?”
“Who what?”
Darcy’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Nothing. There is nothing.”
“Truly, Brother?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then what Anne alludes to in her letter is…”
Darcy’s head lifted at these words. “Anne has written to you?”
Georgiana gestured towards the writing table in the corner. “Yes, I received word from her this morning – and she most pointedly asked me to advise you that her talent with the pen is a little more superior than she is given credit for.” She frowned. “I could not comprehend her meaning – to what does she refer?”
Darcy shook his head before sinking back onto his chair again.
“Fitz?”
He eyed Georgiana carefully for a moment, then sighed. “A comment her mother made about Anne’s health being an impediment – that it hampered her ability to write. Clearly, Aunt Catherine underestimated her.” Darcy leaned back into his chair, muttering under his breath, “As did I.”
What had Anne observed, in her quiet watchfulness? What had she heard or surmised? And more to the point, what had thus been imparted to his sister? Desperate to comprehend what might yet be salvaged of the matter, Darcy said tentatively, “I did not know you were in communication with Cousin Anne?”
Georgiana shrugged her shoulders. “I am not – not regularly – and have never received a letter from her of such length or intrigue.”
His sense of unease increased upon hearing these words, and Darcy moved restlessly in his seat.
“You do not ask what she has written.”
He tugged at his neck cloth, which seemed to be tightening its grip upon his throat, attempting to feign a nonchalance that was belied by the racing of his heart.
“I do not see that she has much to relate. It is quite true that Miss Elizabeth Bennet, whose acquaintance – as you point out – I first made in Hertfordshire, stayed in Hunsford at the same time that Richard and I made our visit with Aunt Catherine. Yet I fail to recall ever seeing Anne in direct conversation with the lady.”
Georgiana all but rolled her eyes at him. “She may say little, but she has both eyes and ears, Brother, which she clearly uses to much effect. From her letter, you are all but players on the stage to Anne.”
Darcy was silent. This unexpected source – how could he have given no thought to what Anne might have supposed? Reluctantly, he met his sister’s determined gaze. “Then please enlighten me. What is it that Anne has seen or heard regarding Miss Bennet that persuades you to ask such a question?”
Georgiana studied him for a moment. “She wrote that I should observe your disposition carefully. What she does not understand is that I had been doing thus these many months.”
“These many months?” Darcy stared at his sister in confusion. Georgiana pushed herself out of her chair and walked over to the writing table to retrieve the letter before turning to face him.
“Yes, Brother. Since your return from Hertfordshire. And I have had much time to think on it – so much so that my concern for you has overridden my reproach of myself. And, sad though the distraction is that has pulled me from my self-absorption, I have welcomed the release it has brought – even though at your cost.”
Darcy paled as his sister walked back towards him, the letter in her hand. “My cost? What is your meaning?”
“Oh, Fitz!” Georgiana stopped beside his chair. “Can you not tell? I have become distracted by my worry for you. We have been brother and sister these 16 years – yet rarely have I seen you thus.”
Grappling with the sudden realisation that his attempts to conceal his struggles over his attraction to Elizabeth had been all too apparent, even if the cause was not, Darcy clasped his hands together. “There is naught amiss with me. I am quite well.”
Georgiana let out a huff of breath, turning on her heel to reclaim her seat, where she perched herself on its edge before fixing her brother with a stern look.
“Do you think me a simpleton? I have watched you, Fitz. If I had concerns before, it is nothing to this. You are pale and distracted; you ate nothing at dinner last night and your eyes… there is pain in your countenance and despondency in your air. I am no longer a child – do not treat me as such. Tell me what ails you, for if you do not, I shall have to resort to desperate measures.”
Feeling his insides lurch in trepidation, Darcy sat up rapidly in his seat. “And what might those be?”
“I shall consult Richard. I know he is privy to more than you own for I did not miss your reaction, Brother. Why should you wish to throttle him? What might he have told me that is to do with Miss Bennet and Kent that you will not share?”
A rising sense of panic gripped Darcy. “Nothing. I had no recollection of mentioning the lady by name to you, so could only assume Richard had advised you of our encountering her.”
Georgiana narrowed her eyes, as if contemplating the validity of his response. Glad of the brief respite from her verbal onslaught, Darcy studied her carefully for a moment, and then shook his head. “There is something different about you – you are altered.”
“Yes, Brother, I am. I have been a fool, but the experience at Ramsgate has done me much good; yet I would have wallowed longer in self-absorption had I not taken on board some of your regret.”
Darcy frowned. “How so?”
“Do you recall what you said to me after Ramsgate? How you regretted that you had not been more observant of my demeanour, more attentive to me, paid me more notice? That had you been more discerning, perhaps...” Georgiana paused. “Well, I have been doing for you, Brother, what you wished for me.”
Darcy stared back at his sister, unable to respond. It was as if she bloomed before his very eyes, and he was quite transfixed.
“When you returned to Town from Hertfordshire I immediately detected a change in you. You were withdrawn most of the time, uncommunicative. At first, I blamed myself – I pondered that perhaps you were dissatisfied with me, that you had reflected upon your easy forgiveness of my stupidity; yet your manner towards me was as loving as ever. I watched you carefully over the following weeks – I thought you might well have determined my purpose, for occasionally I would be caught out in my study of you – and I continued to observe your distraction and low spirits, despite your attempts at concealment.”
Darcy slowly shook his head from side to side as if he would deny her claim but remained powerless to do anything but listen.
“… and now you return from your travels, and I am devastated by the alteration, for you are clearly worse than before.”
As his sister’s revelations unfolded, Darcy tried to marshal his thoughts. Prevarication might well have worked thus far, but clearly it only brought a temporary respite. Notwithstanding the fact that disguise sat uneasily upon him, he had had sufficient time to reflect over the past four and twenty hours and realised that his sister may make the acquaintance of at least one Miss Bennet in the none too
distant future. Would it not avert the potential for awkwardness in the future if he revealed a part of what had come to pass? If a day should come when Georgiana might encounter Elizabeth…
As this thought crossed his mind afresh – a notion that he had once entertained such hopes for – he could contain his agitation no longer and, getting to his feet, he walked over to the window and stared out over the walled rear garden. Then, turning on his heel, he faced his sister, who watched him intently from across the room.
Swallowing hard on the rising emotion that gripped his throat, he found himself unable to speak at all, and turning his back once more, he leaned his head against the windowpane. Conscious that Georgiana had moved, Darcy became aware of her presence at his side, and he put his arm about her shoulders, hugging her to him, comforted by her own arm slipping around his waist and giving a reciprocal squeeze.
“You have been a father-figure to me these many years, but you are not Papa. You are my brother – and I can be here for you just as you were for me.” Releasing her hold upon him, Georgiana stepped out of his embrace and peered up into his face. “And this you will have to accept.”
Darcy turned to face her, noting the concerned eyes in a determined face. “I begin to see our cousin in you, Georgiana.”
“Anne?”
He smiled ruefully, and shook his head. “Richard.”
Reaching out, Georgiana took his hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. “Tell me about it, Fitz – tell me what has affected this change in you. Let me share in what ails you, I beg of you – if not for yourself, then do it for me, that I might be put out of my misery.”
Darcy let out a low, disbelieving laugh. “So it would be more selfish of me to abstain from sharing my feelings – I should consider your anguish over mine?” He observed her pleading expression, then sighed wearily. “I cannot deny you, Georgiana. So – enlighten me, my dear. What does Anne claim to have discerned? Until I comprehend this, I am uncertain what it is you would have me account for.”
“Anne writes that this visit would stay in your memory – that you would not soon forget it.” She hesitated and bit her lip. “She advised me that a lady who had been making some stay in the neighbourhood had frequently been in company with both yourself and Richard and that at the first opportunity, I should ask you about her. She gave the lady’s name as Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and she implied...” Georgiana paused and swallowed, her manner visibly weakening as she dropped her gaze. “She believes, it would seem, from what she has observed, that you – that you are…”
A Fair Prospect Page 20