Chapter forty-five.
Jane Bingley watched her husband as he stood at the window, one hand braced against the tall frame as his eyes followed the raindrops chasing each other down the panes of glass. The last few weeks since her wedding had been some of the happiest of her life, but she had soon learned to tell when Charles was bored.
While she did not consider it a serious fault, her husband seemed unable to sit for too long without some form of occupation. He must always be doing something, and preferably not far from Jane's side. He was happy with any task—or any company—finding as much pleasure in a leisurely jaunt through the countryside as with Mrs. Harrison's large group of acquaintances. But he did not enjoy being idle, which was exactly what the weather was forcing him to be.
A footman, carrying two letters, broke the silence and Charles snatched them up from the tray, grateful for the distraction.
"Is that the post?"
"Yes, Aunt." He studied the writing on the sealed papers in front of him. "This one is from Lizzy, and the second ... why, this looks like Darcy's hand!" He turned it over to inspect the seal. "It is from Darcy! I wonder what he has to say." Charles moved to stand closer to the window, where he broke the seal and unfolded the single page, holding it towards the light.
Mrs Harrison looked up from her needlework. "Mr. Darcy? The friend in Town you sometimes speak of?"
"Yes." He scanned the words on the page. "He writes to ask whether Jane and I would care to join him at Pemberley." Charles glanced at his aunt, who waited for him to elaborate. "His estate in Derbyshire." He paused a moment, reading further down the page before turning to Jane with a smile on his face. "Miss Darcy has invited Lizzy to accompany her—"
"Lizzy will be there?" Jane cried, unable to contain her surprise.
"... yes, and Darcy suggests that if we were to join them, you might appreciate being reunited with your sister."
"Oh, what a wonderful thought! Mr. Darcy is so considerate." Jane smiled as her kind heart overflowed with gratitude. "I dearly miss her."
"From what I read here, it appears the feeling is mutual. Would you object if we were to cut short our planned stay, Aunt?"
"Not at all, my dear," Mrs Harrison replied pleasantly. "I enjoy your company enormously, as you know, and I am sure you will humour an old woman and bring Jane back to visit me again before much longer." Smiling at her new niece, she added, "And I depend on hearing as soon as you have some news for me, my dear."
"Of course, Aunt Dorothy." Jane felt the blush spreading over her cheeks. "When we are blessed with that happy information I will write at once." In truth, Mrs Harrison had done nothing but talk about them having children ever since their arrival. She was worse than Jane's own mother.
"Very good." The older woman beamed. "I trust one of my nieces will do their duty at least, for Louisa does not seem overly inclined to bear children, and Caroline ... well, I do not know when Caroline will find a gentleman who is good enough for her."
A sharp bark of laughter came from by the window. "I think you mean rich enough, do you not, Aunt? Caroline aims her cap rather high."
"All I know is that I introduced her to many highly eligible gentlemen when she visited me last year, but she found some fault or other with every single one of them."
"I will hazard a guess none were called Darcy," Charles muttered.
Mrs Harrison, missing her nephew's scornful tone, said, "Why no, dear, you are quite right. I know of no-one of that name living near here." She shook her head sadly, pondering her distant family. After a few minutes, she cast her mournful thoughts aside and asked, "Well, when will you wish to leave? We must make plans to pack your things, and perhaps we can hold one more soiree so you can bid farewell to your new acquaintance. Will there be time?"
Charles scanned the contents of his letter once more. "Darcy plans to leave town on the first of August, just eight days away, but suggests he will expect us any time during that week."
"Good! If you leave here on the first or the second of the month it leaves me time enough to send out invitations for the thirtieth. Short notice, to be sure, but I cannot allow you to leave without some sort of farewell gathering! Excuse me, while I speak to Mrs Gill."
Jane watched, amused, as Aunt Harrison left the room in search of her housekeeper. Her husband joined her on the settee; the letters still clasped in his hand, while his other arm wrapped around her waist. Taking advantage of their limited time alone, he nuzzled behind her ear before placing a light kiss on her collarbone, sending a shiver down her spine. "Charles?"
"Hmmm?" he breathed against her skin.
"Did Mr. Darcy truly say Lizzy was missing me?"
Charles lifted his head, his movements reluctant. "Yes, here." He reached for the letter, holding the page out in front of her; tracing his finger across the elegant hand until he found the appropriate line. "See for yourself. Darcy also asks you to consider not writing to Lizzy about the invitation, so our arrival comes as a pleasant surprise."
Although Jane read the words herself she barely believed it. "Yes, of course, but how odd! I wonder where Mr. Darcy found the opportunity to speak with Elizabeth? How else would he know she was missing me? They must have come across each other in town; it is the only way I can think of that would have allowed him to observe her feelings in such detail."
"Well, if Miss Darcy has offered an invitation to go to Pemberley, they must have met at least once." Grinning, Charles held up the second letter, addressed to Jane, which had slipped her memory. "Perhaps this may give the answers you seek?"
Taking Elizabeth's letter, Jane broke the seal impatiently, opening out the single page on her knee. She read it through once, glanced at her husband, and then bent her attention to reading it more closely. She was familiar with Elizabeth's style of writing, and the contents of the letter were significant more for what they did not say than for what they did. Charles was curious about Elizabeth's admissions, but she could not share the whole of it, and knew he would not pry.
"It is just as Mr. Darcy said. She will be joining Miss Darcy when they travel to Derbyshire on the first of the month."
"Does she say when the invitation was made?"
"Yes. Mr. Darcy and his sister called at my aunt and uncle's house last Saturday. They originally discussed idea of going to Pemberley when at Longbourn, so the invitation was not wholly unexpected. Papa's approval was sought and after speaking to Mr. Darcy on Sunday evening, when the Darcys had received an invitation to dinner, he gave his full agreement to the scheme."
"And does Lizzy say anything else?"
"Oh, she mentions how tiresome Mama has been lately, and she intends to walk in Hyde Park with Miss Darcy and Miss de Bourgh. Lizzy is looking forward to our return to Netherfield, and she misses being able to talk to me about ... things, as she can not always confide in our younger sisters."
"That confirms just how much she is missing you, dearest; almost as much as you miss her."
"Oh, Charles!" She did not want him to think she cared more for her sister than her own husband.
"No, no. It is quite understandable," he replied, pressing her hand reassuringly. "Lizzy has been your confidante for almost your entire life. I must make a poor substitute."
"Not at all!" Jane objected vehemently. "I love you dearly, and would not be parted from you for the world."
Charles smiled and caught her up in a tight embrace. "You are perfect. I am so fortunate to have won your affections." Giving her one last squeeze, he released his hold and returned his interest to the letter she held in her hand. "Does Lizzy say anything more about her trip to Derbyshire? Is she looking forward to it?"
Jane was wary as she brought the paper up and held it against her, shielding the contents from his eyes. "No, she does not say ... well, not really."
Her husband grinned as he held up his hands in submission. "I have no intention of prying into your personal correspondence, my dear. You are welcome to your secrets."
"It is not a secret. At least, I do not believe so. Lizzy only adds that her opinion of Mr. Darcy has changed somewhat during her time in town, and she will no longer find it uncomfortable to spend more time in his company."
Charles raised his eyebrows. "Did she ever think otherwise?"
"Oh, yes! I am afraid so." Jane blushed as she remembered some of her sister's comments. "From their earliest acquaintance, Lizzy's opinions of Mr. Darcy were not as good as they might have been, partially due to Mr. Darcy's behaviour and partially because of what she had heard about him. Can you remember when I asked you about his connection with Mr. Wickham?"
"Yes ... yes, I can. That seems so long ago now. Of course, at the time I had no idea Wickham was maligning Darcy in such a way. When I returned to Netherfield in May, the truth about Wickham's debts became known and the news spread like fire all around Meryton. Only then did I understand why everyone had held such a low opinion of Darcy."
"Lizzy's ill opinions matched, if not exceeded, those of the neighbourhood. She held Mr. Darcy in very low esteem until Wickham's poor behaviour was brought to light, and Papa was able to vouch for Mr. Darcy's good character."
"But you say her opinion is now improved?" Charles's grin now held an air of satisfaction. "And to think you scorned my suggestion regarding your sister and my friend when I forwarded it!"
Jane laughed as she remembered the conversation. Only the day following their wedding, Charles had been musing on the possibility of Elizabeth marrying Mr. Darcy; wanting nothing more than for his friend to be as happy as he was. Jane had found the idea rather funny, knowing Lizzy's opinions of the man. "Well, it was a little far fetched at the time, Dearest. I cannot begin to imagine the sort of feelings Mr. Darcy could be capable of, but you must allow me to know my sister."
"I know nothing of Darcy's feelings—he is as close-mouthed to me as to anyone else―but I did have a fancy at one time that there might have been something different in his face whenever your sister was mentioned, which made me wonder." Bingley shrugged his shoulders. "That is all."
"It would be a good match for Lizzy, I have no doubt," Jane agreed. "Mr. Darcy has many good qualities, if she could only recognise their worth."
"Perhaps, while we are at Pemberley we might be able to ... forward the match?"
Jane recognised the mischievous glint in her husband's eye and she attempted a reproving frown, although the effect was somewhat spoiled by her inability to curb her own happiness. "You should not tease your friend, and Lizzy will not thank me for involving myself where my assistance is not required."
"But if it was something she wanted?"
"Then we shall have to see," Jane conceded as she folded her sister's letter up and placed it in her work basket.
Later, when the rain subsided and Charles went out for a ride, Jane retrieved the letter and read it through once more. She had never seen her sister suffering from such a jumble of emotions. While Elizabeth never wrote overtly about her feelings, Jane could read a little between the lines and understood her well enough to know how conflicted she must be feeling. From the description of dinner on Sunday evening, it seemed obvious to her that Mr Darcy was far more than a disinterested observer.
However, the second half of the letter, probably written sometime on Monday, had dwelt on Elizabeth's first meeting with Lord Cresswell and his subsequent visit to Gracechurch Street. Her sister was unsure what to make of the Viscount's call, although it seemed obvious to Jane that a gentleman of his status would not make the effort to travel out of his way without a very good reason. After re-reading Lizzy's outraged account of his visit, Jane charitably characterised him as perhaps lacking prudence; no doubt due to the strong feelings he believed himself to possess for her sister. She sympathised with Elizabeth as she wondered what her mother might be making of all these visitors.
Reaching for her desk, Jane set out some paper and began to compose a reply to Elizabeth. Without referring to her own upcoming trip to Derbyshire, she gave her all the comfort and support she thought was needed, and had almost covered two pages by the time she was finished. Folding and sealing the letter, she put it on one side as she reached for a clean sheet.
There was still one more letter she must write, regardless of how distasteful the task may be.
~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~
"What about this one, Elizabeth?" Georgiana pointed to a chip straw bonnet with a wide brim, trimmed in white satin, with a white ostrich feather sweeping over the front. "Do try it on."
Elizabeth looked doubtfully at the fanciful creation the assistant was holding in her hand.
"Oh yes, Lizzy," Mrs Gardiner agreed. "Much more you, I think."
Relenting, she allowed the girl to place the hat gently on her head. Elizabeth studied her reflection in one of the large mirrors. The bonnet did suit her much better than the majority of the turbans, caps and hats she had already tried on, but it was not quite what she was looking for. She glanced at the varied selection surrounding her until she caught sight of Mr. Darcy, standing quite still at the back of the room, leaning nonchalantly on his ebony cane.
Elizabeth smiled, keenly aware of the courteous attention he had bestowed on her during the time they had spent together that afternoon. Even after her visit to Curzon Street, and Mr. Darcy's less than circumspect behaviour, she had still wondered if he might not prefer to go to his club instead of escorting three ladies through the many shops, boutiques and parades in search of their requirements. However, he was true to his word and had borne the last few hours spent in drapers, milliners and fancy goods establishments with no complaint.
Mr. Bennet had developed a pointed dislike for shopping in all its forms and it seemed incredible to Elizabeth that Mr. Darcy did not have anything better to do with his precious time. However, leaving the ladies to fend for themselves appeared to be the last thing on his mind.
He had left their company only once, when their expedition had led them to a small haberdashery located next to what appeared to be a dark and gloomy old bookshop. His sister had not missed Mr. Darcy's wistful glance towards the drab window, and she laughingly turned him away at the door, having extracted a promise from her brother to spend no more than half an hour perusing the dusty shelves. Returning five and twenty minutes later, with a package tucked under his arm, wrapped in brown paper, Georgiana praised his restraint while suggesting to Mrs Gardiner and Elizabeth that she would not have been entirely surprised had it taken him three times as long.
The streets were busy, and they had walked past many colourfully dressed shop windows in search of a perfect bonnet, a good quality muslin or a bolt of silk in just the right colour. Mr. Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth, while Mrs Gardiner and his sister had followed behind. It had been with some trepidation that she had taken it the first time—feeling a fluttering in her stomach as her fingers came to rest on his sleeve—but he put her at ease so quickly that her embarrassment subsided; replaced by a warm glow of content at being singled out by so amiable a gentleman.
Now, he stood in the corner of the curious little shop as though it was the sort of place he frequented every day. He did not seem a bit uncomfortable waiting there. Mr. Darcy's eyes were turned towards her, as she knew they would be, and he smiled as she showed off the bonnet.
"Do you approve, sir?"
He stepped forward and made a show of studying her appearance carefully before shaking his head. "It does not suit you half so well as the one you tried on earlier," he said, pointing to another hat lying on a nearby table.
The bonnet Mr. Darcy indicated had a shallow brim and a large crown in a pleated gold silk, with a delicate arrangement of flowers to one side. That Mr. Darcy somehow knew her favourite, even when she was sure she had given it no more attention than the others, did not surprise her. Elizabeth had indeed loved the hat as soon as she set eyes on it, and had seen nothing to compare, but she felt sure that the cost would be more than she could afford. Mr. Bennet had offered her a generous sum with which to buy whatever she needed for her trip to Derbyshire, but she had already spent most of it on material for three new dresses.
"Which do you prefer, Miss Bennet?" he asked seriously.
Elizabeth paused, unsure what reply to make. "Well, I do like that one, very much in fact, but perhaps this one is more practical?"
"I did not ask which was the more practical, but which you preferred."
Elizabeth sensed the vaguest hint of impatience in his tone, as she looked longingly towards the gold pleats.
"I think we will take that one." Mr. Darcy replied decisively, accepting her unspoken admission as he instructed the assistant to box the gold coloured hat.
"No! That is to say ... I do not think ..." Elizabeth's voice trailed off as Georgiana's brother held up his hand to forestall any further comment.
Turning to Mrs Gardiner and his sister, he asked them which hat they thought suited Miss Bennet the best. Both chose the gold one, without hesitation. "There you have it, Miss Bennet." He shrugged. "You have been out-voted by three to one. I am afraid you have little option than to accept the majority decision."
Mrs Gardiner noticed the stricken look on her face and drew Elizabeth away from the Darcys; not an easy task in such a small establishment. "What is wrong, my dear? If you do not like the bonnet, of course you may choose another, although Mr. Darcy is right. It does become you very well."
"Oh no, Aunt! It is not the hat; I liked it more than anything I have seen today. It is the cost that concerns me. I had hoped to purchase a good pair of walking boots with the money I have left, but I feel sure the gold coloured bonnet will leave me with nothing to spare."
"I do not think that will be a problem." Mrs Gardiner indicated the desk in the corner, where Mr. Darcy was arranging for Elizabeth's bonnet and the blue silk hat Georgiana had chosen, to be added to his account.
A sudden mixture of emotions battered Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy's purchase of the hat seemed such an intensely personal gesture—something she might have expected had there been an understanding between them—and she was not at all sure how she felt about accepting such largesse. Embarrassment flooded through her, as she worried how his sister and her aunt might perceive his action. "Surely he would not? I cannot accept such a gift!"
"I will admit his behaviour appears a little strange, unless there is something you are not telling me, my dear?" Her aunt smiled encouragingly.
The young assistant gave her a knowing look, although Elizabeth was sure she could not have heard their words. Not only uncomfortable with the situation, Elizabeth also had to admit her pride had been stung. Did he believe she could not afford her purchases, and needed his assistance? "What presumption! Why did he not allow us to pay for it? We paid for everything else."
"Perhaps you should ask Mr. Darcy that question, my dear."
"I might just do that," she grumbled to herself.
After leaving the shop, the four proceeded down the bustling street. As she expected, Mr. Darcy walked ahead of Mrs Gardiner and his sister while offering Elizabeth his support once more. When she did not reach for his arm, he prompted her. "Miss Bennet?"
"Yes, Mr. Darcy?" she replied, her voice colder than intended. She sensed his curiosity directed towards her, but would not catch his eye.
"Is something wrong?"
His simple question vexed her out of all proportion and she turned away, casually inspecting a set of prints displayed in the nearest shop window. As their companions continued down the street, a questioning glance from Mr. Darcy caused her to cast aside any rational thoughts she might have had. "Yes, sir, there certainly is! It is one thing to choose which bonnet I should buy—"
"Excuse me, but I did no such thing," he replied calmly, his tone brooking no argument. "You asked my opinion and I gave it. By a happy coincidence, it was also the item you preferred. Will you now tell me I was wrong in my choice?"
She could say no such thing. Not just in the milliners, but in every shop they had visited his observations had showed him to somehow understand her tastes in a way her mother had never done. Her agitated feelings softened for a moment, before she recalled the embarrassment she felt at accepting such a gift from him. "No ... no, you were not, but you were wrong to assume you should pay for it! It puts me in a position I am less than comfortable with. Some people may read more into your behaviour than you might have considered," she added in a desperate whisper.
Mr. Darcy's face was set in an impassive mask as he stopped and stared at her. She could not begin to guess what he was thinking, but he certainly seemed surprised and even disappointed by her comments. Conversation between them was suspended for a moment before he wordlessly offered his arm to her once more. Satisfied she had made her feelings known, Elizabeth took it; perversely comforted by the strength of his arm through the fine wool of his coat. However, his quiet acceptance of her words and the subsequent silence between them made her regret her hasty words.
After what seemed like an eternity, Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. "I apologise if my actions caused you distress. That was not my intention."
Elizabeth nodded, silently accepting his apology. It would probably not have occurred to him that his actions might have been construed as those of a man buying his betrothed a gift.
"I am well aware of the amount Mr. Bennet gave you and it was not difficult to calculate how much you have spent so far. Did your father not tell you he had instructed me to send any additional accounts to him?"
Elizabeth's eyes dropped to the ground as her embarrassment flared back into life like a smouldering log. The idea that he had previously arranged it with her father had never occurred to her. "No, he did not," she replied in a small voice.
His tone softened. "So you thought I had presumed too much?"
"Yes."
He shook his head. "I have made that mistake once before, and make a point of never making the same error twice."
Elizabeth wondered what had happened in the past to cause him to speak so decisively on the subject. She was about to enquire, when her attention was drawn to a familiar face on the street in front of her.
"Lord Cresswell!" she cried, as the gentleman in question looked up; smiling broadly at the sound of her voice. "Good afternoon, sir. I did not expect you back in town quite so soon."
"Miss Bennet, it is a very great pleasure to find you here." His attention moved briefly to her companions. "Mrs Gardiner; Darcy; Miss Darcy." He bowed to each in turn before addressing Elizabeth once more. "I returned from the country earlier than I expected. In fact, I called at your home an hour ago, but Mrs Bennet told me you were out. I see you have been shopping," he added, his attention drawn as much to Mr. Darcy as to her.
"Yes," Elizabeth replied weakly as she belatedly realised she was still supported by Mr. Darcy's arm.
"Your mother seemed particularly upset that I missed you. She begged me to wait for your return, but unfortunately I had other matters to attend to. However, I did promise we would meet again tomorrow evening at Rempstone House for Lady Augusta's card party."
"Yes, of course." Elizabeth had forgotten all about the planned evening with the Rempstones.
Lord Cresswell then turned to her companion; his friendly expression fixed rigidly in place. "You are shopping too, Darcy? I was not aware you enjoyed the pastime quite so much."
"Well, that does depend on what I am shopping for," Mr. Darcy replied smilingly as he covered Elizabeth's hand with his own as it rested on his arm. "And you? I am sure you are busy. We must not keep you from your errands."
The combination of Mr. Darcy's words and the weight of his hand upon hers was a gesture not lost on Elizabeth, and she felt a knot of happiness unravel within her.
The Viscount also seemed to recognise something, and his eyes narrowed. "It is no trouble at all," he replied in a light tone. "I have already found what I was looking for."
"That is excellent news. You must be so pleased." Mr. Darcy drawled in a voice quite unlike his own. "Well, if you will excuse us, I believe the ladies have some purchases still to make. I am sure I will see you around town, Cresswell."
"Oh yes. You can count on it, Darcy." Tipping his hat, the Viscount walked away without so much as a backwards glance.
Mrs Gardiner broke the silence that followed his departure. "Mr. Darcy, if you do not mind, I think we should be making our way home. I do not know about your sister or my niece, but I have walked far enough today."
"I beg your pardon, I should have realised. We have been out for some time; you must be tired. Please allow me to call for the carriage to take you home, ladies."
"Will you not be accompanying us?" Elizabeth asked hopefully. Even after her earlier misjudgement of him, she was not entirely ready to leave his company.
Mr. Darcy gazed down at her with a serene smile. "Yes, but I intend to use an alternative means of transport. I made a promise to your young cousins that I have yet to keep."
Consequently, the three ladies returned to Gracechurch Street in the Darcys coach, and were joined—after only a brief delay—by Mr. Darcy, now riding a large chestnut hack, which he had collected from the mews for the pleasure of the Gardiners sons.
Mrs Gardiner, having been forewarned of his intent, had advised Michael and Henry that a visitor was expected, and they had been waiting with some excitement in the yard. On Mr. Darcy's arrival, they ran up to greet both the animal and its rider with an equal amount of enthusiasm, each boy eager for his turn in the saddle.
Elizabeth was standing at the parlour window, watching Mr. Darcy guide his patient mount around the yard with first Michael and then young Henry on its back. She smiled as she watched Mr. Darcy laugh at some great secret Henry had felt it necessary to impart.
Georgiana soon joined her, and they both watched the scene outside for some minutes before the young girl addressed her. "Elizabeth, I believe I owe you an apology."
"An apology? Whatever for? Surely not about that reticule? You were quite right to caution me against it. It does not match with anything in my closet."
She glanced down at the floor, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. "No ... it is not the reticule. Anne says I must make amends for telling you that she and my brother were going to marry."
"Oh!" Elizabeth grasped her friend's hand. "But that is all forgotten. You were relieved when you thought that might happen. The idea of Anne becoming your sister was comforting for you, when you had worried so considerably about your brother's choice of wife. It was only natural you would be excited and want to share the news, but there is no reason you should apologise to me for it."
"Oh, but I must! To say such a thing to you, when ... when ..." Georgiana looked helplessly out of the window, as though she wished her brother could be there to say the words she was too embarrassed to utter. "After our walk, while we were at Curzon Street with Aunt Eleanor, Fitzwilliam was acting so strangely. I asked Anne about it when they returned, and she explained to me that you ... that my brother ..."
Taking pity on her faltering speech, Elizabeth smiled as she threaded her arm through Georgiana's before once more turning her attention to the scene outside. Mr. Darcy was standing by the tall animal, and it appeared he was now giving the boys a lesson in what he would look for when visiting Tattersalls.
Elizabeth thought for a moment about what she could say to her young friend. She knew her feelings for Mr. Darcy were growing with every meeting, and felt sure he was not indifferent to her, but she did not wish to raise Georgiana's hopes unreasonably. "When I first met your brother, I did not think so highly of him as I do now. He seemed excessively proud and very haughty, and in his turn, he considered me only tolerable." Elizabeth laughed now to think of it.
"Surely he would not say such a thing, would he?"
"Oh yes he would, but it is all forgotten now. I know him far better, and I think we both have a greater appreciation and understanding of each other."
"An understanding?" Georgiana squeaked.
Elizabeth blushed. Dare I hope? "No ... no, not of the sort you imagine. After a few weeks together at Pemberley your brother may be heartily sick of my presence; but if he is not, well..." Elizabeth stopped herself from saying more. As much as she might like to give Georgiana some reassurance, she still had no idea what her future might hold.
"I would love for you to be my sister, even better than Anne," Georgiana cried, throwing her arms around Elizabeth.
Elizabeth, glancing out onto the yard, realised that Mr. Darcy was standing in the middle of the yard staring up at the window. At her. Grinning, he touched his hat before leaning down to listen to Michael. He was so tall and handsome, his presence so reassuring, that she could not help but smile back at him.
Although no one couldpredict what might happen in her life, at least she now knew what she wanted, more than anything. I think I would like that too.
~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~
The following evening, Elizabeth found herself outside Rempstone House for what she assumed would be the last time for the foreseeable future. Mr. Bennet had reminded his family more than once in recent days of his wish to return to Longbourn, and no one, save his wife, doubted they would be back in Hertfordshire within the se'night.
As she walked up the steps, Elizabeth looked back across the square towards the Darcy town house. The pedimented upper windows stood above the trees and bushes of the central communal gardens, and she paused a moment to imagine what Mr. Darcy might be doing that evening.
After he had entertained Michael and Henry for half an hour the previous afternoon, Mrs Gardiner had entreated the Darcys to stay and drink tea. When their visit ended, Georgiana asked both the Bennet and the Gardiner families to dine with them at Grosvenor Square on Sunday evening.
While Georgiana had made the suggestion, Mr. Darcy's eyes sought her own approbation for the plan. The invitation delighted Elizabeth. Even Mrs Bennet accepted with every indication of pleasure, although the additional delay in town was a greater inducement to her mother than spending time in Mr. Darcy's company.
Elizabeth sighed, regretting his absence. There was no one else she would rather spend the evening talking to.
Entering the reception hall, Elizabeth found Nathan waiting for them by the long case clock. He wore a smart blue coat with shiny buttons, over a mustard coloured waistcoat, while his recently appointed valet had tied his neckcloth in one of the latest fashions. Elizabeth smiled as she realised how confident and at ease he appeared in London society, which just went to prove how deceptive appearances could be.
Nathan welcomed Mr. and Mrs Bennet and had a genial smile for his cousins. "Here you are! I have been waiting for you. Grandmother is complaining about the lack of guests." He rolled his eyes heavenwards. "She is convinced there will be insufficient players for the number of tables she would like."
"That may be so," Elizabeth whispered to her father, as they climbed the grand staircase together, "but even with a deficiency of guests, will she be pleased to welcome the Bennets?"
Mr. Bennet smiled, patting her hand as it lay on his arm. "If not, she is a far sillier woman than I gave her credit for."
As they entered the salon, Elizabeth looked around her. The large room, filled with tables, was not quite as empty as Nathan's words had suggested. In fact, the number of guests present already exceeded those Mrs Phillips would expect to host at Meryton, and her well-attended card parties were renowned throughout the parish.
They found Lady Augusta engaged in conversation with a number of her friends just inside the door. Upon seeing the Bennet family, she paused abruptly before excusing herself to welcome them. "Ah, here are Mr. and Mrs Bennet! And your daughters too ... how charming you all look this evening."
Elizabeth watched as her mother preened, ignorant of the insincerity of the compliment. All of her daughters, with the exception of Elizabeth herself, now had new dresses to show off, and their mother had already pronounced them to be looking as fine as any young lady present.
Meanwhile, Lord Rempstone attended to his wife, who sat on an upholstered settee across the other side of the room. Her gravid state was now more obvious, even under the generous swathe of fabric allowed by the current fashions. It seemed clear to Elizabeth that their hostess would rather be anywhere than in a room crowded with guests. Her face was pale and her eyes appeared tired. Lady Eleanor Whitney sat by her side, holding her sister's hand in support.
"Nathan, is your aunt well?"
"Well enough for the moment, I think. Grandmother would not countenance cancelling the card party, although Lady Rempstone has not been her usual self of late. I do not think she will be taking part in many of the entertainments this evening."
"Why did Lady Augusta not allow her to remain upstairs if she is indisposed?"
"Cousin Elizabeth, what are you suggesting?" Nathan replied in mock horror. "A hostess not present at her own party? Nothing short of death would be ample reason for such negligence in my grandmother's eyes."
Stealing another glance at the lined face of Lady Rempstone, and the sympathetic comfort of her sister, Elizabeth could almost imagine Lady Augusta might yet get her wish.
Captain Ardern crossed the room to join them, greeting the Bennets in his usual friendly manner and asking in a polite way after their health.
"Oh, Captain! How good to meet you again! We wondered whether you would be here tonight, didn't we, girls?"
"Mrs Bennet. I see you have brought your lovely daughters to entertain us again this evening." The Captain charmed them all with a smile. "I confess, knowing you would be here, I found it impossible to stay away."
Lydia laughed. "I'm certainly glad you are here. It had promised to be quite the most boring evening otherwise."
"I would not have missed it for the world." He winked at Lydia, forcing her to stifle a giggle.
"Will you join us in a game of Vingt-et-un, Captain Ardern?" Kitty asked, gesturing to one of the empty card tables.
"Oh no!" Her sister pouted. "It is so dull! I would much prefer lottery tickets."
"You wish to try your luck, Miss Lydia?" He smiled at Kitty. "I have no objection to Vingt-et-un at all, Miss Catherine, although afterwards we can perhaps defer to your sister's tastes."
"La, sir!" Lydia giggled. "I am sure I would be vastly pleased with any diversion you might suggest."
"Yes, I rather imagined that would be the case."
Lydia and Kitty both burst into peals of laughter, earning them a 'shush' from their mother and a stern glare from their father.
Mr. Bennet had already spoken to them before leaving the house; explaining in no uncertain terms how he would not tolerate poor behaviour this evening. Already concerned by her youngest sister's response towards the Captain, Elizabeth now looked to her father, expecting him to deliver another word of warning, but it appeared he had considered his quelling stare sufficient to keep them in line, and she was disappointed when she realised he had already excused himself to speak to Lord Rempstone.
Captain Ardern's voice sounded behind her. "Miss Bennet! I could not have hoped for more than the presence of you and your delightful sisters. My mother's card parties are invariably in need of some animation. Anyone would think the plague had reared its ugly head, the way Town becomes so devoid of decent company when the season is over. I often find more entertainment walking to my club than I do at home."
Not wishing either Lydia or Kitty to become the Captain's entertainment for the evening, Elizabeth pondered how she might frame her request that he temper his behaviour towards her two silly sisters when a familiar and welcome voice behind her spared her the task.
"Come now, Henry. I am sure the Misses Bennet have not come here tonight purely to keep you from being bored," Mr. Darcy said, as he joined them from somewhere behind Elizabeth. "A pleasure to see you again, Miss Bennet," he added in a warm tone as he bowed over her hand.
The sound of Mr. Darcy's voice had caused a little shiver to run through her and Elizabeth smiled up at him. "I find myself in complete agreement with you, sir. Is Georgiana here as well?" she asked, looking hopefully around the room.
He shook his head. "No, I am sorry to disappoint you. She remains at home with Mrs Annesley."
"Your presence could never be a cause of disappointment, sir. In fact, it is an unforeseen pleasure. I was not aware you would be attending this evening. You mentioned nothing of it during our shopping trip."
He glanced briefly at the Captain. "No, you are correct. I did not expect to attend tonight. However, Lord Rempstone kindly extended an invitation to me when we met at White's this morning. We are neighbours, after all."
Captain Ardern laughed at the image of him shopping with the ladies. “Surely you jest?”
Mr. Darcy explained how he often accompanied his sister and thought nothing of the matter. "Perhaps, Henry, had you been blessed with a younger sister, you might also have been given the same responsibility."
"In that case I was never more pleased to be the youngest," he said, before leaving the two of them alone.
Elizabeth thought nothing could now disturb her good humour. Mr. Darcy's presence was more than she ever hoped for. Having only seen each other the previous evening, there was little news to share, but that seemed of little importance. They chatted about the guests, and Mr. Darcy introduced her to some of his near neighbours who hailed him as they passed, and pointed out other acquaintances who were playing cards.
She then heard her mother’s voice and turned to watch Mrs Bennet participating in one of the round games behind them. She was sitting between two gentlemen players, among a table otherwise filled with ladies. One of the men smirked unpleasantly.
"Yes, Jane was the prettiest of my daughters, but she is now married. Lizzy, though ... Lizzy might suit you very well, sir. She is ..." Mrs Bennet turned her head to find her daughter and Elizabeth recognised the satisfied look in her eyes. "There she is, right there with ... with Mr. Darcy." A frown creased her mother’s brow as she turned back to the table. "I do not know what she is doing in his company, when he only finds her tolerable." One of the gentlemen leaned closer, whispering in her ear, but her reply was not in kind. "Lord Cresswell? Oh yes, he is most enamoured of my daughter. In fact, he can hardly bear to stay away. His attentions towards Lizzy are very flattering, I am sure."
Embarrassed, once again, by her mother’s behaviour, she avoided Mr. Darcy’s eye, lest she witness his disapproval. Moving towards the door, they passed another table where her sisters were laughing rather loudly. She watched Lydia flirting outrageously with Captain Ardern and a gentleman in regimentals who she did not recognise. The voices were too low to hear, but she dreaded to imagine the subject under discussion if it made Lydia blush.
Mr. Darcy’s voice broke into her thoughts. "Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of lemonade, perhaps?"
Realising that a few minutes alone might allow her to retrieve the situation she accepted his suggestion. As Mr. Darcy left the room, he passed her father in the doorway; they shared a few words before he continued into the hallway beyond. She wondered whether he had been looking for an excuse to avoid any more of her mother’s inanities. Catching Mr. Bennet’s eye she waited as he made his way over to her.
"You do not look like you are having fun, Lizzy."
Elizabeth did not reply, although privately she thought there were far pleasanter ways to spend an evening. "Where is Mary?"
"Speaking with Lady Rempstone's sister when I last saw her."
Elizabeth was grateful she did not have to worry about one family member here tonight. Describing her mother’s exuberance, and her sister’s indecorous flirtation, she said, "Can you not at least temper Lydia's behaviour before she makes a spectacle of herself?"
"To chastise Lydia now would only draw attention to her folly. Besides, she is doing nothing worse than laughing a little too loudly. While I would wish her to modulate her voice to a more acceptable volume, it is a purely personal preference. Surely Lady Augusta can only be pleased her entertainments are so ... entertaining."
Her eyes scoured the room for the Dowager Viscountess. "She does not seem pleased to me." Although she endeavoured to attend to the game in front of her, those icy cold eyes of hers were too often turned in Lydia's direction for Elizabeth's peace of mind. Surely she must realise her younger son was doing everything in his power to encourage the hilarity she disapproved of so greatly?
A second glance across the room showed the table formerly occupied by Lydia and Kitty was now unoccupied, which Elizabeth at first thought a blessing. However, further investigation showed her sisters and Captain Ardern to be missing from the main room.
As Mr. Darcy had not yet returned, she went looking for him, assuming she might find him in polite conversation with one of his neighbours. In her preoccupation, she failed to notice the Dowager's presence until it was too late.
"Ah, Miss Bennet. I hoped to find the opportunity to speak to you. I wonder if you would mind attending me in here a moment." She pushed open a door leading to a smaller room devoid of company.
"Please, take a seat. I am far too old to stand on ceremony." Nathan's grandmother motioned for Elizabeth to sit on a low settee while she took a deep-seated chair opposite, but before Elizabeth could hope to get comfortable, Lady Augusta cleared her throat. "I am given to understand you chose to refuse Mr. Briscoe's offer of marriage," she began, without preamble. "I was never more surprised when the poor man informed me of your decision."
Elizabeth tried to interrupt at this point, incensed Mr. Briscoe would be so indelicate as to discuss the matter and angry that the elderly woman would choose to broach a subject that was none of her concern. She had barely opened her mouth, however, before the old woman continued.
"At first, I found it hard to believe your parents would allow you to turn down such an advantageous union. I assure you, Mr. Briscoe was a far better match than you deserved."
"My decision to refuse Mr. Briscoe's suit was supported by my father. He considers my feelings in the matter to be of utmost importance. "
"In my day, a young woman was told who to marry and that was the end of it. Few families would allow such latitude. To my eyes you appear to think a little too highly of yourself, Miss Bennet. You may now enjoy a share of my Phillipa’s dowry, but for all that, you are still only a country gentleman’s daughter who should learn her place. There are many young ladies who are far more eligible than you and your sisters."
"The suitability of the other ladies of your acquaintance is of no import to me. I can only be concerned with my own circumstances, and I believe my future happiness lies somewhere other than in Lancashire."
The lined face of the Dowager crinkled into a sneer. "Ahh ... now we get to the crux of the matter. Perhaps your family would not comply so readily with your wishes if your grasping mother did not hope you might snare a gentleman of significantly higher consequence. Do not worry, Miss Bennet, I know it all! Do not think me ignorant of the gossip. I am well aware my godson has been to call on you ... in Cheapside of all places! You must know that what you hope for can never come to pass. Regardless of what he tells you ... what he promises you ... his parents would not allow it."
Elizabeth remained undaunted; fixing what she hoped was a pleasant smile on her face. "If that is so, you can have no reason to be concerned he will make an offer to me."
The Dowager seemed to deflate a little upon hearing Elizabeth's words. "His relationship with his father is of a peculiar kind. The Earl dotes upon the boy and rarely refuses him anything he wishes, but if you are expecting a proposal of marriage from my godson, you will be disappointed. He does not always think of his position as he should, but in the end I am sure he will not defy his family."
"I am sorry to disabuse you, but I neither expect nor wish for marriage from Lord Cresswell."
"Then the rumours are true?"
"I have no idea what you mean. Now, if you will excuse me, Mr. Darcy will be looking for me."
The old woman cackled. "Setting two snares at once, eh, Miss Bennet? I see now where your sisters picked up their habits." She shook her head. "You are tracking the wrong scent there, my girl. Mr. Darcy has an excessive amount of pride in his family's name and standing. Do not be deceived by his lack of title, my dear, for he is very well connected; he is the nephew of an Earl! He would not wound his consequence by considering marriage to someone so wholly inferior to him."
"I can appreciate your interest in Lord Cresswell, but I am at a loss to understand your connection with Mr. Darcy. Nephew of an Earl he may be, but he is not a member of your family and therefore you can have little to say on the subject."
"In that, you show your ignorance of good society. I knew Mr. Darcy’s father well, and his mother and I were very close. I am almost like a godmother to him, you know. His parents raised their only son and heir with the highest values and expectations, and he will never betray their teachings. I think I can say, without fear of contradiction, Lady Anne would desire the best possible bride for her son; a girl with excellent connections and a generous dowry."
Elizabeth stood abruptly. Although she had known Mr. Darcy less than a year, she had never considered him the sort of man who would bow to the will of others. "As she is no longer with us, surely that is his decision to make, not yours."
"Your assumptions prove how little you know him." The Dowager shook her head disparagingly. "You are no better than the rest of your family after all. The Bennets have always had ideas above their station. Just look at John Bennet ... worming his way into my daughter's affections when he had so little to recommend him! I once imagined you to be beyond the mediocre level of your sisters, but I see now that I erred. Do not imagine your lofty ambitions will ever be gratified. For you I predict a marriage to a provincial squire, just like your father, and you will be grateful for it!" The older woman pushed her slight frame out of the chair and swept out of the door without a backwards glance.
Elizabeth remained for a few minutes to compose herself. While she had never seriously considered Lord Cresswell to be anything other than pleasant company, her opinion of Mr. Darcy had improved significantly over the last se’night. Every day spent in his presence had brought fresh insights into his character.
She had even begun to think herself half in love with him.
Was she wrong to believe Mr. Darcy held her in esteem? During their last few meetings, some of his words and actions had given rise to the idea that he was not indifferent to her. Only yesterday, Georgiana had assumed there was more to their relationship than Elizabeth might admit. Would not his sister know his thoughts better than anyone else? Sometimes, the way Mr. Darcy looked at her would make her stomach twist and her heart leap in her chest, but Elizabeth had to admit none of these things necessarily meant his feelings were strong enough to consider marriage; especially if—as Lady Augusta had suggested—his pride were to overrule his heart.
Could the pride in his own consequence, and that of his family, hold him back from ever expressing himself more explicitly?
She remembered then that she had been looking for Mr. Darcy before meeting the Dowager. He had only gone to fetch a drink, or so she thought, but had something else delayed him? Had Mrs Bennet’s behaviour at the card table forced him to think twice about spending time in her company?
The door opened, interrupting Elizabeth's musings, and a familiar form stole quietly into the room. "Lydia?"
Lydia spun around at the sound of her sister's voice. "Oh, Lord! Lizzy? What on earth are you doing in here?" Her face split into a wide grin. "Are you waiting for someone?"
"No, I most certainly am not! Where have you been?"
Lydia shrugged, ignoring her sister’s question. "I thought you might have been waiting here for Mr. Darcy ... an assignation in the dark perhaps?" She laughed. "Perhaps it is for the best if you are not, otherwise you would be disappointed, for he left a few minutes ago."
"Left?"
"Oh yes. Right out the front door."
On hearing this news, Elizabeth felt all the emotion predicted by her sister. She could not understand why Mr. Darcy would have gone away without even bidding her farewell. Had Lady Augusta sought him out to counsel him against an alliance with the Bennets? She knew not the exact degree of his affection for a lady who—by her own admission—knew his family so well; nor could she guess his dependence on her judgement. It was natural to suppose that he thought much higher of her ladyship than of her, and it was certain that, in enumerating the miseries of a marriage with one, whose immediate connections were so unequal to his own, Lady Augusta would address him on his weakest side. With his notions of dignity, he would probably feel that the arguments, which Elizabeth had first thought weak and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning.
Was his leaving a consequence of the Dowager’s warnings? Elizabeth's emotions were in disarray and she felt unequal to imagining what his response might have been, but she supposed it was indeed possible he would not wish to remain at Rempstone House under those circumstances.
Feeling a growing rancour towards Nathan's grandmother, Elizabeth ushered Lydia out of the room without further comment before returning to the salon. It did not occur to her to wonder what she had been doing there, even when she almost ran into Captain Ardern in the hallway outside.
He escorted her sister away, leaving Elizabeth alone and lonely, despite the house being full of people.
As she returned to the crowded room, Elizabeth searched for Mr. Darcy, but Lydia had spoken the truth; his comforting presence was missing. Ladies and gentlemen sat around the tables—playing all manner of games—servers scurried around the room refilling empty glasses, and the noise of neighbours conversing seemed unnaturally loud to her ears.
Despite all this, no one wanted to talk to Elizabeth.
Standing by the door, she felt uncomfortable. Although she never caught anyone staring directly at her, she sensed she was under scrutiny. Did she imagine their observation? Attempting to maintain a calm outward demeanour, Elizabeth grew increasingly uncomfortable amongst all these elegant people. Perhaps the dowager had been correct; why were the Bennet family in London, instead of taking their place amongst their equals in Meryton society?
Her courage had almost failed her when a soft voice spoke her name.
"Miss Bennet." the Viscount bowed over her hand. "A pleasure, as always." Their meeting was noted by many of the guests, who watched Lord Cresswell's amiable welcome with curiosity.
"Good evening, my Lord. I expected you a little earlier this evening." She thought him no less handsome or friendly than he had ever been, and Elizabeth found herself grateful for his attention. However, she was also conscious that his company in no way affected her quite as Mr. Darcy’s did.
"My apologies. My father kept me longer than expected. Even the greatest of men must bend to the will of their parents from time to time."
Recalling her exchange with Lady Augusta, Elizabeth wondered whether his conversation with the Earl had touched on her name or circumstances. She glanced over at the Dowager's table, noticing the cold stare emanating from those icy blue eyes. Turning back, she realised how gaunt and drawn the viscount’s face was, compared to their last meeting. "I do hope your journey into the country was not too fatiguing?"
His lordship grinned. "Frustrating perhaps, but not tiring. Please, do not give it another thought. I find my worries melt away when I am in your company." He paused, looking around the room. "If you are not otherwise engaged, would you care to join me in a few hands of piquet?" The Viscount waved his hand towards a small table, which was set away from the general crush of people in the far corner of the room.
Elizabeth turned to the door, hoping to see Mr. Darcy standing there, but he was not. She wished she knew why he had left, but feared the dowager had used her influence to the utmost effect in warning him away. Turning back to Lord Cresswell, she accepted his arm gratefully. He had always been friendly towards her, and, under the circumstances, passing some of the evening in his company was preferable to the alternative.
Especially when she knew how much it would infuriate his godmother.
"I would be happy to; although I am not sure I remember all the rules."
The Viscount led her over to the baize covered card table and pulled out a chair for Elizabeth to sit. "In that case, Miss Bennet, I would be more than willing to educate you."
~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~
Chapter forty-seven.
Darcy had left Gracechurch Street on Thursday, having secured Elizabeth's company for dinner on Sunday evening, but resigned to the likelihood that they would not meet during the interim.
However, a chance meeting with Lord Rempstone on the stairs at White's had put him in a much better humour, after Rempstone stopped him to ask about a matched pair of greys, put up for sale by a mutual friend. Darcy was pleased to be able to warn him against purchasing the horses—which had been poorly handled and overworked by their belligerent owner—and in his turn, Rempstone suggested that if Darcy had nothing else to do that evening, his wife was hosting a card party that he was more than welcome to join. Remembering Cresswell's conversation with Elizabeth the previous day, Darcy had accepted the invitation with alacrity.
If Cresswell was going to be in the same room with Elizabeth, he wanted to be there as well.
Even though he had first seen her talking to Henry Ardern, the sight made him smile. Unlike him, she rarely appeared uncomfortable in unfamiliar company, regardless of the situation she found herself in, and she seemed as happy speaking to the residents of Grosvenor Square as she was talking with her own family. He envied her ease in company.
He had left her side for only a few moments, to procure her a drink, when a servant had met him in the hallway with a worrying message. That first report had spoken of a fire at his home, and two servants injured. Hearing the words, a surge of panic rushed through him as he thought of Georgiana, at home with Mrs Annesley, and he took three steps towards the staircase before remembering Elizabeth.
At that moment Miss Lydia Bennet scampered out of a door ahead of him, laughing lightly. "Oh, Mr. Darcy! I do beg your pardon. I didn't know you were there."
"Obviously not." Darcy, unsure how long he would be away from the party, knew he should make Elizabeth aware of his departure. Miss Lydia's presence at that moment seemed like divine providence. "Would you be so kind as to give your sister a message from me?"
"My sister? I have so many! Which sister are you speaking of?" She smiled innocently.
Darcy growled with frustration as half his mind worried about the situation he might yet face at home. "Miss Bennet."
"Lizzy? I would be happy to, although I have no idea where she is."
"I think you will find her in the salon, and I would be obliged if you could advise her that I am required urgently at home, but I will return if I am able."
"Yes, sir. I will let her know," the young woman replied.
Satisfied that Elizabeth would not worry where he had gone, Darcy left Rempstone House and ran across the square; his senses attuned for the smell of smoke or the crackle of flames. By the time he reached his front door, he knew the urgent summons for what it was … an unfortunate misunderstanding.
There was a message awaiting him, from his steward at Pemberley, but it would not have necessitated his leaving the party early, particularly not without speaking to Elizabeth first. He read the hastily written note, advising him of a fire that had devastated a pair of cottages on his estate, leaving two tenants and their large families homeless. He could see the garbled truth. Yes, there had been a fire, and the doctor had treated two men affected by smoke, but while regrettable for the families concerned it was not the horrific event he had imagined. No lives were lost, after all, only buildings, which were easy to rebuild.
After authorising the rebuilding works and suggesting alternative temporary accommodation for the displaced families elsewhere on the estate, Darcy sent off his reply with the waiting rider. Returning to Rempstone House no more than half an hour after he had left it, he hoped he would find Elizabeth eager to talk with him once more.
Making his way up the stairs, Darcy found Nathan Bennet on the upper landing. The young man had been forced against the iron rail, as a fashionably dressed older woman leaned ever closer, whispering in his ear and clearly discomforting the inexperienced youth.
"Mr. Bennet, Mrs Wellesford. How do you do?"
The lady looked up guiltily. "Mr. Darcy! You would not believe what a crush there is in the salon. Lady Augusta has always been a trifle too generous with her invitations, and from the look of some of the girls here tonight, her standards are most definitely slipping. Mr. Bennet here kindly offered to show me the ... ah ... the plasterwork on the ceiling."
One look at Nathan Bennet's flushed features confirmed it had been Mrs Wellesford doing the offering. Darcy knew her tactics well, and took care to stay clear of her whenever possible.
"Have you been out?" the young man asked, eager to change the subject and keep Darcy close.
"I was called home, but only for a brief visit." Breaking his usual habit of honesty for a good cause, Darcy offered Nathan a way of extracting himself from a tricky situation, assuming he had the sense to take it. "Did you still wish to know more about the litter whelped by Sir Arthur Cowlishaw's pointer bitch?"
"Er ... yes! Yes I did! If you will excuse me, Mrs Wellesford."
Darcy smiled pleasantly at the widow as she weighed up her options.
"Perhaps I will leave you gentlemen to your discussion. Your fascination with hunting dogs is not something I share. Mr. Bennet, perhaps you and I could continue our tour of the house later?"
Nathan Bennet could only manage a polite smile until she returned to the salon, before he sighed with relief. "Thank you!"
"You are welcome. You should be more careful when escorting ladies from overcrowded rooms."
"But she swore she would faint from the heat!"
"Mrs Wellesford has the unfortunate habit of being able to swoon at will when it serves her purpose. You still have much to learn."
Nathan grinned. "Yes, I am beginning to understand. The country is looking more appealing all the time."
Lady Augusta interrupted their conversation. "Nathaniel, would you sit with your aunt to allow Lady Eleanor to join the loo table?"
Being the dutiful grandson, the young man complied immediately, leaving Darcy trapped with the Dowager.
"Darcy, I am pleased you have returned to us. Come! My niece Frances has been practising a piece by Maestro Clementi. He wrote it for a friend of mine, who was kind enough to lend me a copy. With the exception of one occasion at Carlton House, no one else in town has heard it. Frances will be happy to favour you with a rendition."
"No, I ... I have promised to partner Miss Bennet."
The old woman scowled. "There are many young ladies here tonight who would bear you more appropriate company."
"There is nothing inappropriate about Miss Bennet."
"You think not? You would not say that if you had witnessed the way she spoke to me this evening. I do not know why her behaviour should come as a surprise. With a mother like hers, it was no more than I expected. That young woman has ideas above her station. I would advise you to be more careful."
Annoyed by her presumption to offer such unsolicited advice, Darcy thought it best to leave the Dowager’s presence, lest he say something he might later come to regret. "If you will excuse me."
Although Lady Augusta was small in stature, she still managed to block his path. "You were always very careful in the past. You would not allow a pretty face to capture your imagination, especially if her family was of significantly lesser consequence." She eyed him speculatively for a moment. "Now, my niece Frances is a lovely girl, and has been brought up to know just what is expected from a lady of breeding. Perhaps if you were to listen to her play?"
"No."
"But your aunt said you would be pleased—"
Through gritted teeth, he replied, "Lady Matlock holds many opinions, but I do not consider myself bound by them. Miss Jasper will not want for an audience."
For a moment, the Dowager seemed surprised by his pointed refusal, but then her look turned cold. "Nathan tells me you and your sister spend a great deal of time with the Bennets. I would counsel you to take particular care with your associations. I cannot avoid the connection but, as Georgiana's guardian, you have her future to think about, as well as your own. You would not want to see her reputation damaged so near to her first season."
The mention of Georgiana’s reputation reminded him too much of the events at Ramsgate for comfort, and Darcy took a deep breath to calm his anger. It was bad enough that Lady Catherine peppered her pronouncements with unsolicited advice. That the dowager had the temerity to believe herself in a position to advise him was beyond everything. "I am more than aware of my responsibilities to my name and my family."
The old woman raised a wrinkled finger. "I speak only as your mother's greatest friend when I tell you that it would distress me to see any child of Anne's falling into a honeyed trap; particularly when it is in my power to help you avoid it."
His mother had raised him with a proper respect for his elders, and that fact alone made him determined not to be rude to the woman in front of him. However, his fond memories of Lady Anne Darcy were still strong. He would not listen to Lady Augusta insult his mother’s memory. "If you will excuse me, I must—"
"Lady Matlock would agree with me if she were here, I am sure."
"As my aunt, Lady Matlock deserves my utmost esteem, but even she knows she is not in the position to impose her will in matters that do not concern her. You would do well to remember that." His words cut through the silence like shards of ice as he fought to maintain his composure. "Mr. Bennet is my friend. I trust you do not propose to tell me that I should not choose my own friends?"
The Dowager paused, surprised by his coldness. "I would not dream of it."
"And Nathaniel Bennet? Do you intend to discourage a friendship with your own grandson?"
Less sure of her position now, Lady Augusta favoured him with an ingratiating smile. "Not at all! You are free to be friends with whom you wish! I would not presume to suggest otherwise."
"I am gratified to hear it." Realising his fingers were clenched into a fist he relaxed his hand. "You have no further advice for me, I take it?"
The old woman took a step back, then a second. "Oh no! No ... not at all."
"Good. In that case, if you will excuse me, I am expected in the salon." He turned and walked away without looking back. However, when he strode into the bustling room, it seemed Miss Bennet was not expecting him at all. In fact, she had settled snugly in one corner with Lord Cresswell; their heads bowed as they discussed the cards in front of them.
Elizabeth's back was towards him, while Cresswell faced the door. Seeing Darcy, the Viscount smiled and gave him the faintest nod in greeting, acknowledging—on this occasion at least—he had the upper hand in their dealings with Miss Bennet.
Not wishing to force a confrontation in front of his neighbours, Darcy stood near the window, although the view outside held no interest for him. His ears were instead straining to hear Elizabeth's laugh, or the teasing tone her voice sometimes took on when she was happy. Unfortunately, he could hear none of their conversation over the sound of the other guests and he was left to imagine what Cresswell might be offering.
Was the Viscount's company so preferable to his own?
When Nathan Bennet suggested Cresswell might have a less than honourable interest in Elizabeth, he had rejected the notion out of hand. Darcy thought he knew Cresswell well enough to believe him incapable of such conduct. However, once Nathan’s opinion planted itself, the idea had taken root; the speculations as choking as any pernicious weed. After watching them together, he could not help but feel concerned by his lordship's predatory aspect.
"I see you have no drink, sir."
Darcy spun around to find Mr. Bennet holding a glass out towards him. Accepting the port gratefully, he quickly took one mouthful and then another, before coughing as the strength of the wine took him unawares.
Mr. Bennet clapped him on the back. "I must ask Lord Rempstone where he buys his port. It really is a most superior quality." Darcy nodded his head, but did not venture a comment. "You are not entertained by any of the games at the moment?"
"No, sir, and I fear my inattention would render me a poor partner."
"Yes, I guessed as much." Mr. Bennet followed his attention across the room, where a smiling Cresswell still dominated Elizabeth's company. "I have always considered myself a fair judge of character, but I cannot make out Lord Cresswell’s true nature at all, although he does appear a most tenacious gentleman. For some reason, I can barely find it in me to be civil to him, and yet he continues to make love to my daughter in front of us all."
"Miss Bennet does not seem unhappy with his company or behaviour, sir."
Mr. Bennet turned to appraise him. "Do you think so? Have you watched them?" He paused a moment. "No ... no, you need not answer. I know you have observed the Viscount carefully. However, I do not think you have been attending quite so closely to my daughter."
The idea of spending the rest of the evening watching Elizabeth with Cresswell made his gut ache. "You will forgive me if I do not give her the attention you feel she deserves."
The older man sipped his drink thoughtfully. "Have you given no thought to why she might be accepting his Lordship's rather improper behaviour with every appearance of pleasure?"
"No, I am afraid I have not."
Mr. Bennet shook his head. "Then perhaps it is time you did. You have an excellent brain, and I cannot for the life of me understand why you do not bring it to bear on this particular problem of yours."
Darcy turned to look at the older man with incredulity. "My problem, sir? How is it my problem? She is your daughter."
"Yes, she is ... for the moment at least," Mr. Bennet replied in an undertone, and with no intimation he had taken offence to Darcy's tone. "There are more games being played here tonight than faro and whist, Mr. Darcy, and I wish you luck with them."
~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, Elizabeth—blissfully unaware of Mr. Bennet's discussion—was frantically trying to recall some of the basic rules of piquet, so as not to appear completely foolish in front of Lord Cresswell.
While Uncle Phillips taught her the game many years ago, her father’s dislike of it meant that she had not played often enough to be confident of all the rules. Given the choice, Elizabeth would have preferred Mr. Darcy as her partner, but he had left the party—and her—unexpectedly, forcing her to be philosophical about the rest of the evening.
Calling for a fresh pack, his lordship sorted through the deck, removing the unwanted cards before dealing twelve on each side of the table; putting the remainder—the talon, as he reminded her—between them.
"Do you remember how to sort your cards?" Lord Cresswell asked of Elizabeth as he began moving the cards around in his own hand.
"I think so. I must only mention if I do not have any picture cards. That is correct, is it not?"
"Yes," he replied, with a slight twitch of his lips. "That would be carte blanche."
They then went through the business of exchanging their cards. Elizabeth went first, being the elder hand, and she took three cards out of her hand, before replacing them with the first three from the top of the pile.
"Do you wish to look at the next two cards from the talon?"
"Should I?"
His lordship shrugged indifferently. "It is a benefit afforded to the elder hand which you may take advantage of ... and I would always recommend taking advantage of unexpected benefits," he added in a low voice, grinning when he saw her blush.
The game proceeded, with his lordship reminding her about various points of game play and Elizabeth asking questions to refresh her knowledge. He entertained her with stories of other hands he had played, and he illustrated some of the more complex rules with memories of the less skilled gentlemen he had come across in the various clubs and gambling halls of town.
Her earlier concerns faded and Elizabeth could not help but smile at some of his wry comments. After her confrontation with Lady Augusta, and with the loss of Mr. Darcy's presence, the easy companionship of Lord Cresswell made a pleasant change. She honestly felt she had never enjoyed his company quite so much as now.
Elizabeth hoped—a little childishly perhaps—that Lady Augusta had observed their conversation. However, when Elizabeth turned to look over her shoulder, she found that their game had drawn interest from an unexpected quarter.
Mr. Bennet was observing her closely, but no more so than the man who was standing at his side. Mr. Darcy.
Realising how her situation might appear, Elizabeth had little else in her mind but to go to him. "Oh! Forgive me, your lordship. I must speak to Mr. ... to my father, this instant."
Looking across the room, the Viscount smiled. "I think Mr ... Bennet will be able to cope with your absence for a little while longer. We should at least play out this game of ours to its conclusion, do you not think?"
Elizabeth turned once more, and her heart sank as she saw Mr. Darcy's retreating back as he made his way through the guests milling between the tables.
"You cannot hope to improve your skill if you do not attend to the game in hand," Lord Cresswell drawled.
"I am sorry. I was ... looking for someone."
Nodding his head slowly, he appeared to be considering his cards, but when he spoke, Elizabeth knew his attention was no more on the game than hers was. "I was surprised to see Mr. Darcy with you yesterday. I had not realised you were such good friends with his sister."
"Yes, Miss Darcy and I are friends. Why should you be so surprised, sir?"
"Perhaps it was not so much your shopping with Miss Darcy that was so unexpected as her brother's inclusion in the party. I have always known Darcy was rather devoted to his young sister, but it would not have occurred to me that he would consent to follow three ladies around the milliners and mantua makers so readily. I wonder whether, in this instance, he was influenced perhaps by more than just the desire to be a kind brother."
Elizabeth felt herself blush. "I really could not say."
Lord Cresswell nodded thoughtfully as he looked beyond her, to the other side of the room, where Mr. Darcy had once stood. They played the remainder of the hand in silence. Fingering his remaining cards, he seemed hesitant to say more. After a few minutes, he leaned closer to her. "Miss Bennet, may I ask you a question?"
Struck by the soft, intimate tone he used, she nodded her agreement.
He glanced around the room, before returning his attention to her. "What would you think of a gentleman who had formed a strong partiality for a young lady with little fortune, while even now his family urged him towards marriage with a woman whose only attraction was a large dowry and a respectable family?"
Elizabeth shivered. It was exactly as Lady Augusta had foretold. She wondered whether Lady Matlock had also attempted to draw Mr. Darcy's attention from her by suggesting more eligible connections. "I would hope any gentleman would follow his own conscience, and stay true to his heart."
"Ah, but what if his life was not entirely his own? If he had a younger sister who was yet unwed? When her entire future happiness is dependent on her brother making an excellent match, how should he then proceed?"
Elizabeth’s heart sank. Georgiana was such a sweet girl. How could she consider her own happiness to be more important than the future of her dear friend? "If that was the case, I … I would wish him well. In such circumstances, a gentleman must consider the welfare of his family above all else."
As her eyes welled with tears, Lord Cresswell reached out to comfort her. She looked up to find him smiling. "You are too good, Miss Bennet. Any man would be a fool to not appreciate you."
She sat, dazed. Would Mr. Darcy ever consider an alliance that went against the hopes of his family? She knew the answer; Lady Augusta had already told her as much. Mr. Darcy would never consider a match that might damage his intentions of a suitable marriage for Georgiana.
Elizabeth could only wish one of her family would be so devoted to her.
Lord Cresswell pulled at one cuff and brushed a speck of dust from the knee of his breeches. When he returned his eyes to hers, she sensed his sympathy for her situation. "You have had enough of the cards this evening. Am I right?"
"Yes ... I ... I mean." Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder to see if Mr. Darcy had returned to the room, but she could not see him. "I am sorry my companionship has been less than sparkling this evening."
He smiled. "On the contrary, I always enjoy our conversations. Thank you for favouring me with your company tonight. I am sure we will meet again very soon." Taking her hand, he brushed his lips against her fingers, holding her a moment longer before letting her go.
As he moved away, Elizabeth went in search of Mr. Bennet. She found him playing backgammon with Nathan in the far corner of the room. They, at least, seemed to be enjoying themselves.
"Papa. Where did Mr. Darcy go?"
"Ah! I wondered when you might have cause to think of that gentleman. He will probably be at home now."
"He has gone again? Lydia told me earlier that Mr. Darcy had left the party."
Nathan admitted this was true. "An urgent message called him home, but he was not away for long."
Elizabeth felt faint. Lydia could not have known that his departure would only be of a short duration. "I understood he had left for the evening. Why did no one tell me that he had returned?"
"Perhaps he did not wish to interrupt your conversation with Lord Cresswell? You were with him for quite a while. Should I be expecting a visit from his lordship sometime soon?"
Her mind was in such turmoil that it took a few seconds for her father's words to sink in. "What? No ... not at all! Surely you did not really think that?"
"Well, the two of you gave every indication of it, and not only to me."
Nathan nodded his head, although there was an angry glint in his eyes that boded ill for someone.
"I only meant for Lady Augusta to think ..." She paused, realising her only excuse showed her behaviour to no great advantage.
Mr. Bennet nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I presumed as much. You will be pleased to know your scheme was even more successful than you intended. Not only did you annoy the Dowager Lady Rempstone by your display, but Mr. Darcy was rather disconcerted by it as well."
Elizabeth looked hopelessly at her father. That was not what she had intended at all. "Was he very angry?"
"How am I to know, my dear? You must realise he does not yet know you quite as well as I do."
"But I only agreed to sit with Lord Cresswell because I thought Mr. Darcy would not be returning."
"Poor Mr. Darcy; and after being collared on the stairs by my grandmother as well." Nathan made it clear where his sympathy lay.
It was just as she feared. Elizabeth's stomach sank. She could only imagine what opinions Lady Augusta might have shared with him. Seeing her sitting with Lord Cresswell must have confirmed all the accusations the dowager had shared, and could have only reinforced the decision his family were pressing him to make.
She spent the rest of the evening in similar unhappy contemplation, and fared no better once she had returned to Gracechurch Street. The combination of Lady Augusta's warnings, the Viscount's observations and Mr. Darcy's rejection causing her to suffer a miserable night indeed.
~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~
Chapter forty-eight.
Caroline Bingley pulled on her gloves with a definite sense of purpose as she waited in the hallway of the Hursts home. She waved away the young maid, who had just finished fastening the final button of her light pelisse, as Louisa came down to join her.
"I see you are ready."
"Yes, of course." Caroline did not bother to hide her irritation. "The carriage has been waiting for the past ten minutes." She noticed a brief smile crossing her sister's face, which only annoyed her more. "What makes you so happy this morning?"
"All your impatience will stand for nothing when we reach Grosvenor Square. Mr. Darcy is unlikely to be at home. Whenever we called in the past he was never there."
Upon leaving the house, the sisters were helped into the carriage by a footman. As they made themselves comfortable, Caroline finally acknowledged Louisa's observation. "I do not call to see Mr. Darcy, but Georgiana. I have missed her while we were away." It was not so much Miss Darcy Caroline had missed, as the opportunity to be in her brother's company, but she would not give her sister the satisfaction of being correct.
Louisa returned a sceptical glance. "Did Miss Darcy inspire our unplanned flight from Bath, or could our letter from Jane have prompted your homesickness for town right at the end of the season? My poor Hurst knew not what to make of your insistence that we return so abruptly. He had quite settled himself."
Caroline brooded for a moment in silence. Jane's letter from Scarborough had caused her acidic moods in recent days. Her new sister, a far more regular correspondent than Charles had ever been, had written to inform them of an invitation they had received to stay at Pemberley for the remainder of the summer. Ever since she had spent time with Mr. Darcy at Netherfield the previous autumn, Caroline had harboured an expectation that they would all receive an invitation to spend the summer in Derbyshire. Had Charles not ignored all her remonstrations and decided to marry, he would, without doubt, have spent more time with his best friend in town. This would have given Caroline and the Hursts entry to a social sphere they could not easily access by themselves and her brother Hurst would not have felt such a need to visit Bath in search of suitable entertainment. It was all Charles's fault!
Louisa interrupted her thoughts. "Miss Grantley was full of news yesterday. I was never more surprised than when she told us the whole Bennet family were in town. And to think she assumed we would know of it!"
"As if I would care what the Bennets do! Just because Charles married one of them, it does not signify that we should know all of their concerns. She only mentioned it because she knows I do not wish to be reminded of the connection."
"And what of this cousin who has turned up so unexpectedly? Did you not hear her say he is a connection of Lord and Lady Rempstone? Or that he has inherited a fortune from the Caribbean?"
Caroline waved her hand, dismissing the idea of a Bennet with a fortune as an unlikely tale. "You know as well as I do what a terrible gossip Miss Grantley is. Jane would have told us if he was rich. I dare say the spiteful girl made half of it up. She likes to make people think she knows everything and everyone."
Their carriage soon pulled up outside the Darcys town house. The distance between the two properties was slight; they could have easily gone on foot had Caroline not thought it beneath her to walk anywhere.
As they waited in the hall, she spent an idle moment imagining herself as mistress of the house. While the interiors were adequate, Caroline envisioned the house as a grand canvas upon which she could paint all her elaborate and most fashionable ideas. These wall coverings must be at least five years old! The designs were so démodé! However, as mistress, she would have more than just the property. Marriage would give her the status and admiration she had always dreamed of. What parties she might attend as Mrs Darcy. What respect and recognition would be her due as the wife of such a wealthy and important man. All of society would be open to her. Caroline Darcy ... no, no ... Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy! Oh, how elegant!
Once in the drawing room, Caroline gushed as she greeted Georgiana with open arms. The young girl gave every appearance of being equally pleased to see them. Good company must have been in short supply while they had been away; Caroline could not imagine how she had managed. Miss Darcy had also grown almost an inch since their last meeting in June, and she remarked on how the simple cut of her dress flattered the long line of her neck. She knew Georgiana enjoyed receiving compliments, and it was important to keep the girl happy ... for the moment at least.
Ignoring the ever-present companion, who had always evinced manners above her station, Caroline sat down carefully on the settee, brushing out the creases in her skirt as she listened politely to Louisa describing their trip.
"When Charles took his new wife to Scarborough, Caroline and I felt a change of scenery was in order. We did not want to journey north ourselves; Aunt Dorothy can be tiresome company after a time. I had always wanted to visit Bath again, and Mr. Hurst kindly agreed to take us there."
Caroline concurred wholeheartedly, going into raptures about the assemblies and balls they had attended, dropping the names of people they had met and describing some of the beautiful gowns they had seen. As Caroline told it, Bath was unrivalled for entertainment in the whole of the Empire. "Nothing would have moved us had it not been for dear Jane's letter." Affecting an air of innocence, she picked an invisible speck from her sleeve. "She mentioned you will soon be on your way to Pemberley for the summer."
The young girl’s eyes darted towards the woman in the corner before she nodded. "Yes, I believe Mr. and Mrs Bingley will be joining us."
Caroline desperately wanted to receive a similar invitation, and wondered how she could manipulate the conversation towards that aim. "How wonderful it would be to see my brother and sister again! You cannot imagine how much I have missed the company of Charles and Jane. Surely you will be such a merry party in the country; you and your brother; my brother and sister …" She hoped the obvious solution of extending the invitation to include the whole Bingley family would occur to Georgiana without further prompting.
"Oh, did Mrs Bingley not mention the other member of our group?"
"No, she did not."
"Miss Bennet will also be joining us."
"Miss Bennet?" Caroline ground her teeth. The situation was worse than she thought. Any other gentleman—being so ruthlessly rejected—would have made a point of avoiding the lady in question. Instead, Mr. Darcy had sought out Miss Bennet's company; first at Charles' wedding, and now in town. He clearly had not yet given up hope. "I imagine Miss Eliza’s presence will please your brother immensely," she replied with a knowing look towards Mrs Hurst.
When Caroline had first overheard the conversation between Mr. Darcy and his cousin, she had felt the familiar thrill that came from knowing another's deepest secret, but after a while she had soon realised that, although aware of his failed proposal in Kent, she could derive no benefit from it. While it had afforded her an immeasurable amount of satisfaction, she had come to understand that it was not in her best interest to make the fact public knowledge through the judicious use of gossip. To make the news known would work against her. The last thing she wanted was to encourage Mr. Darcy to seek out Miss Bennet's company any more than he must.
The revelation had indeed brought her nothing but frustration. "Did Mr. Darcy suggest her addition to the party?"
"Oh no. It was my own idea. I asked my brother's permission and he—"
"Of course!" Caroline laughed mirthlessly. "But I am sure Mr. Darcy was pleased to accede to your request." Seeing Georgiana's nod, she smiled. "No, that does not surprise me."
Mr. Darcy was not a man familiar with refusal. If he had indeed manipulated an invitation for Miss Eliza to go to Pemberley—and Caroline did not doubt it was his idea—it could only be a matter of time before the offer was renewed. Miss Bennet, in refusing him, had unwittingly thrown down a gauntlet; a challenge he would be unable to refuse. He was only a man after all.
Although she hated to admit it, Eliza's scheme had worked well on this occasion. She wished she had thought of the idea herself.
Caroline doubted whether any woman admitted to the sight of Pemberley would be foolish enough to deny the master of the house his hearts desire and it seemed out of the realms of possibility that Eliza would refuse such a man for a second time. It was therefore up to her to make Miss Bennet's presence in Derbyshire unwelcome to the Darcy family.
She recalled a choice bit of gossip mentioned by Miss Grantley, which she had initially dismissed out of hand as being too ridiculous for words. Regardless of the truth, it would now serve her purpose very well. Caroline cast a pointed look towards Louisa, hoping she would understand the penalty for contradicting her next remark.
Leaning forward, Caroline made a show of looking around the room. "Quite frankly, I am surprised Mr. Darcy allows you to spend so much time with Miss Bennet. Pained as I was to hear of it, I understand from a close acquaintance how she has been much in the company of a certain Viscount this week." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Everyone is talking about it. In fact, it is quite a scandal."
"Whatever do you mean?" Georgiana’s innocent eyes were wide as she waited to hear her reply.
"Why, everyone knows the future Earl of Rutland could never marry a woman whose family situation is so modest compared to his own, and yet he is reputed to be very attentive to Miss Bennet. Moreover, she continues to throw herself at him. It is quite pitiful, I think, to be so brazenly interested in a man when he can have no serious intentions towards her. Surely even the Bennets' newly forged links with the Rempstone family could not turn her into such a prize catch. No, mark my words, something is afoot."
Louisa played the part expected of her. "Oh no, Caroline! That could not have been what they meant, for we know Elizabeth is not like that at all! Heavens, she is Jane's sister, and by that virtue also our sister! We must take pains to quash this vile rumour at once!"
"There has to be some mistake!" Georgiana grew more upset with every word. "Elizabeth would never..."
"I do not know where some of these rumours come from, do you, Caroline?"
Keeping a straight face, Caroline could only hazard a guess at what the young girl might now be imagining. "No, I do not, but it must be false, because Mr. Darcy would not allow you to associate with anyone behaving in the manner my friend suggested. Although ..." She tapped her forefinger against her bottom lip, suggesting a coy reluctance. It would not do to be too obvious, after all.
"What?" Louisa cried in mock apprehension. "You have heard more?"
Georgiana put her hand to her mouth, and Caroline could tell their act had succeeded in catching the young girl’s attention. "Well, I did hear something the other day, but I dismissed it directly, not wanting to believe it."
"About Elizabeth Bennet?"
"Well, not directly," Caroline admitted. "The word around town is that the Earl of Rutland has put his town house up for sale. Of course, from what I hear he spends more time at his club than at home, so there is little point in him keeping a house. He is taking a suite at the Albany while his son is buys a smaller property. As soon as the purchase is complete, rumour has it the handsome Viscount will offer the house and an annuity to an unnamed young woman of good birth, in exchange for a certain arrangement..." She only had to suggest the idea. Even an innocent like Miss Darcy would work out the rest for herself.
"Oh, Miss Bingley! How awful!"
Caroline smiled, unable to hide her satisfaction before a cold voice came from behind them.
"I am sure it would be, Georgie ... were it true."
~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~
Standing in the doorway, Darcy took in the scene in front of him. Miss Bingley was smiling like a cat with a mouse, although Mrs Hurst’s eyes darted from side to side, as though looking for a possible route of escape.
His gaze swept the room until he found Georgiana, her fingers clutching the sides of her dress. She had been halfway towards believing the aspersions they were casting around like autumn leaves, and it seemed he had arrived none too soon.
Miss Bingley’s smile did not fade. If anything, her mouth grew wider, like a hideous gargoyle. "How wonderful to see you again, Mr. Darcy. We so often miss you. When did you arrive home?"
"I have not been anywhere. I was in my study." Had Mrs Annesley not sought him out to advise him of the unpleasant turn the conversation had taken in the drawing room, he would never have chosen to come anywhere near Miss Bingley or her sister.
"Brother! Miss Bingley has been telling me the most awful things about Elizabeth."
"I was only—"
Unwilling to listen to any more lies, he cut her off. "I heard some of what Miss Bingley had to say on the subject."
She stiffened at the accusation in his tone. "Then you must have also heard that I do not believe a word of it. Not in the slightest!"
"And yet, despite your disbelief, you had no compunction in sharing this nonsense and distressing my sister."
"That was not my intention. I was merely surprised you were expecting to receive Miss Bennet at Pemberley, when I had heard that she might have ... ah, other plans for the summer." She dropped her gaze; attempting to look demure. "After you and Miss Bennet had your falling out earlier this year, I was naturally curious as to how you had once again regained her good graces."
"After you and Miss Bennet had your falling out" Darcy considered her words, trying to imagine what other circumstance might have prompted her unusual comment, but the only event he could remember was the one moment in his life he would never forget.
But how had Miss Bingley come to hear of it?
He turned and spoke quietly to the woman who stood behind him. Mrs Annesley received her instructions without demur and collected her now silent charge; ushering Georgiana from the room as Darcy asked Caroline and her sister if they would remain seated.
He walked across to the black marble mantelpiece, leaning his palm against the intricate carvings. The smooth stone was cold to the touch, but he barely registered the sensation, his thoughts being otherwise engaged. Finally, he broke his silence, keeping his tone formal but polite. "Mrs Hurst, I would be obliged if you would explain to me the exact form of the news you heard regarding Miss Bennet."
"Well I ... I am not sure ..." Mrs Hurst looked helplessly at Miss Bingley and something passed between the sisters—an unspoken communion—but his patience had all but expired.
"Mrs Hurst," he repeated, more forcefully. "I would like to hear for myself what is being said in town." Pushing down his resentment, he smoothed his features and spoke in a calmer voice. "Pray, tell me."
Squirming in her seat, she took a deep breath. "Well, when we went to Gunters yesterday, someone sitting at the table behind us mentioned how the Earl of Rutland is selling his property in town. Meanwhile, our good friend Miss Grantley had heard from Miss Watkins, who had overheard Lady Hunter say Lord Cresswell intended to arrange a house, carriage and a suitable income for a well-bred young lady of his acquaintance in return for an exclusive ...ah ... arrangement. She only mentioned it to us because the Viscount's recent attentions towards Miss Bennet have led some people to speculate that the house might be for her, but we explained very clearly that although Charles married one of them, we never see the Bennets."
"But nevertheless you believe the story to be true."
"It is all over town, although one never knows what to believe these days," Caroline replied on her sister's behalf, unhappy that he had not yet asked for her opinion. "Even an untrue rumour can damage reputations and I would think you might take greater care with Miss Darcy and ensure she only associates with the most appropriate company."
He remembered Lady Augusta using the same word the previous evening. Fortunately, Darcy knew not only was Elizabeth an appropriate companion for Georgiana, but she would also make a perfect wife, if his prayers were answered. "And you do not think Mrs Bingley’s sister fits that rôle?"
"Obviously not, if the rumours regarding Lord Cresswell are to be believed. If we have heard of it, you can be sure it is circulating freely around the ton."
Damn Cresswell! He recognised a similarity with the allegation Nathan Bennet had made that night in Grosvenor Square. Could there be some truth in it after all? Darcy’s fists clenched as he imagined Cresswell making his plans to entice Elizabeth into his home. He had thought the Viscount an honourable man, but now he had his doubts.
But he did not ... no, could not doubt Elizabeth. No matter what anyone said, she was an innocent. "Miss Bennet would not be a party to that kind of arrangement, regardless of the inducement, so this gossip is most certainly slanderous. I would strongly suggest, bearing in mind your connection with the Bennets, you refrain from repeating it to anyone else."
"Of course, Mr. Darcy." Miss Bingley’s compliance was unctuous. "We would never knowingly do anything to hurt Miss Bennet. She is our sister, after all. Speaking of brothers and sisters, we hear from Georgiana how you are having quite the reunion at Pemberley. It seems an age since we saw Charles and his dear Jane, and I would so love to see Derbyshire again. There is no county quite like it."
"Oh yes, indeed," Louisa murmured.
For a moment, Darcy thought he had lost his wits. Did she really expect an invitation from him? He would rather open his grain stores to rats than have her step one foot on his property. In fact, after the way she upset Georgiana, he would be happy to throw her out onto the street now, except he needed to clear up one thing first. "Mrs Hurst. Would you be so kind as to leave us? You may wait in the hall." By now, Mrs Annesley would be waiting outside to take her place.
Charles’s eldest sister squeaked like a mouse and scampered towards the door, meeting Georgiana's companion in the doorway. "You need not fear for your sister," Darcy added with a wry smile. "A chaperone will be in attendance throughout our discussion. I would not wish for Miss Bingley's reputation to be tarnished in any way." She would have no opportunity to catch him so easily. He would rather cut off his own arm first.
When the door closed, Miss Bingley favoured him with an affected smile. "Well, sir, this is a pleasant surprise." Her demeanour reminded him of the worst sort of coquette. Exactly the sort of woman he abhorred.
She patted the sofa by her side. "I beg you, Mr. Darcy, sit down, if you please. Whatever you have to say, you will be more comfortable here ... next to me."
Ignoring her invitation, he folded his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowing. "You said Miss Bennet and I had had a falling out."
She blinked. "I ... did I say that? I only meant the two of you were not always on such good terms. In fact, I particularly recall your saying one night, after she had been dining at Netherfield, 'She, a beauty! ... I should as soon call her mother a wit', but afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time." A frustrated frown lined her forehead and her lips formed a pout. "Do we really have to speak of Miss Bennet now? I so rarely have the chance to talk to you alone."
"And I can promise you will never have the opportunity again."
"Oh, come now! Once you get to know me a little better—"
An icy shudder snaked up his back. "I already know you far better than I would ever wish on any man. You did not mean at Netherfield. You said earlier this year, but our stay in Hertfordshire was last autumn. What did you mean?"
"How am I to remember what I meant?" Her reply was artless, but he could tell she was lying.
Glancing at Mrs Annesley, who sat in a chair by the door, he lowered his voice. "You know exactly what event you were referring to, and I would like to know how you heard of it."
Miss Bingley laughed, but it was sharp and devoid of humour. "I cannot recall. Does it matter? It is not as though Miss Eliza can remember what happened anyway, since she has so conveniently forgotten."
Her light-hearted words proved his suspicions. She knew about his proposal and obviously not from Elizabeth, who still remembered nothing of it. He thought back to Richards’s inquisition at Bingley’s home. Could she have overheard their conversation? "It matters to me," he answered her in a deceptively mild voice. "There is only one other who knows the substance of that specific conversation. Even your brother is unaware of it."
"Charles!" She spat the name out like a curse. "He knows nothing."
"Do not mistake your brother’s ductility of temper for ignorance. He sees more than you realise and overlooks far too much. Were you my sister, I would ... well, you are not my sister and I have never been more grateful for that fact."
She sneered. "You think yourself so important—"
He held up his hand, cutting her tirade short. "I will only say this once and you will listen. If I even get a hint that you have spread what you overheard around town, I will be forced to explain to Bingley how you are responsible for encouraging the slander of his wife's favourite sister. You may then find the generous allowance he provides you with is not as permanent as you might imagine, and I doubt you would enjoy the relative poverty that would naturally follow."
Caroline, laughing at his threat, jumped up from the sofa. "I could have told my friends and acquaintance many times over, and they would have lapped it up. The great Mr. Darcy, one of the most eligible bachelors in town, refused by a country nobody who cannot even remember that you lowered yourself to offer for her. Had I read it in a novel I would have thought the plot laughable!
"I am neither naive nor blind, like your sister. If Miss Bennet does go with you to Pemberley it will only be a matter of time before you propose to her again, and she would be a fool indeed to refuse you for a second time. Unless, of course, she recalls your original eventful meeting and takes offence at your decision to keep the knowledge of it to yourself and a few well chosen ... friends. I wonder how she would feel about that. Or perhaps she will surprise us all and refuse you for a second time? Viscount Cresswell might even get to her first. You had better be on your guard, Mr. Darcy, or you could find your beloved Eliza snatched away from you by a better man."
Clamping his hands by his side—better there than around her neck—he breathed deeply to calm himself. "Perhaps, under the circumstances, it would not be wise to attempt to see Miss Darcy again. I will not allow you to upset her further. You were correct in one respect. As her brother I am concerned that she should keep appropriate company, and I am afraid I consider you, and in some respect your sister, to be very far from that description." Although there were many other things he would have liked to say to her, Charles’s sister was not worth his trouble. She was nothing to him, and he only wanted her out of his life. "Good day, Miss Bingley." Turning his back on her, he sauntered to the window, where he surveyed the scene outside; behaving, for all intent and purpose, as though the room was empty.
Under the circumstances, she took his cut better than he expected. "It has been a most interesting conversation, Mr. Darcy, but I think I will join my sister now." She spoke bravely into the stillness of the room, but he heard the quiver in her voice.
He made no reply.
Even when the door slammed behind him, Darcy did not relax until their carriage was out of sight. With any luck he would not see them again in his lifetime. Rubbing at his eyes with the fingers of one hand, he turned away from the scene in disgust.
"Do you still need me, sir, or may I go to Miss Darcy?"
He had forgotten Mrs Annesley's presence in the corner of the room. "You may go ... no, wait!" Darcy moved closer to the woman who had been almost as much a surrogate mother as companion to his sister. "Thank you for your help today. I am grateful you had the presence of mind to seek me out."
The lines around her eyes crinkled as she smiled. "It was no trouble, sir. I could not stand by and listen to that vicious young woman maligning poor Miss Bennet, not to mention the upset it was causing Miss Darcy."
"Miss Bingley is rarely considerate of other people's feelings. Despite her avowed fondness for my sister, she would not stop to consider how much her words might be hurting Georgiana. I fear her only motivation was to attack Miss Bennet's reputation."
"Well, sir, I think it was poorly done of Miss Bingley. Not at all the sort of behaviour I would have expected from one of Mr. Bingley's sisters at all. I have seen a genuine change in Miss Darcy since she made Miss Bennet's acquaintance, and I believe the two of them will enjoy their time together this summer."
Darcy hoped that would be the case. He did not voice his fear that she might not reach Derbyshire at all. The comment about Cresswell getting to her first had cut too close to the bone after the events of the previous evening. Fearing that Caroline’s penetrating voice had been audible throughout the room, he wondered how much Mrs Annesley had heard and understood. "About Miss Bingley’s accusations ...”
She quickly reassured him. "It is not a companion’s place to listen to her employer’s conversations, sir, and anything I might unavoidably overhear during the course of my employment I would naturally keep in the strictest confidence."
He no longer doubted she had heard Caroline’s vicious words, but—like any good servant—he felt sure she would not repeat it. "You have met Miss Bennet once or twice, I believe?"
"Yes, sir."
"And what is your opinion of her?"
"She is a very pleasant, well mannered young lady, and ..." She paused, looking at him uncertainly.
"Yes?" He prompted; overtaken by a desire to hear the opinion of this respectable lady.
She cleared her throat, clasping her hands together. "It is not my place to say, sir."
"I am aware that we have not known each other for more than a year, but I have come to respect your judgement. I am not asking you this as your master, but as Georgiana's brother. How do you find Miss Bennet?"
Freed from any restriction, Mrs Annesley was candid in her response. "Miss Bennet is kind, intelligent and very polite to everyone, be it maid or lady; unlike some of the young women we meet these days. She obviously cares a great deal for Georgiana, and everyone who meets her seems to like her." Here she paused for a moment, as though collecting her courage. "In short, sir, I think you could certainly find much worse than her to be mistress."
Her genuine approbation for the woman he loved comforted him. "Thank you, Mrs Annesley."
Nodding her acknowledgement, she made a curtsey before leaving him to his thoughts.
Little did she know how much he wanted to avoid those thoughts right now, because they only led towards a pit of darkness. Hearing the speculation about Elizabeth's relationship with Lord Cresswell from the mouth of Caroline Bingley had stunned him into silence as he stood outside the door. If even someone like Miss Bingley—existing on the fringes of the ton—had heard the same tale, then the net must have spread wide indeed. He would have to do something to quell the gossip, before the damage to Elizabeth’s reputation moved beyond redemption.
Cresswell’s behaviour confounded him. If the Viscount was really as enamoured of Elizabeth Bennet as everyone thought, why was he taking no pains to quash these rumours? He could not imagine any possible benefit from this slander surrounding Miss Bennet's name, unless he aimed to make her so unmarriageable she would agree to anything.
Having seen how Elizabeth had turned so promptly to Lord Cresswell on Friday night, he only wished he knew the truth.
If he knew Elizabeth's heart to be his, the malicious gossip of Miss Bingley and women of her ilk would be as nothing. However, while his doubts of her true affections remained, hearing those comments pained him like a knife in his heart.
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