Mr. Darcy's Little Sister (11 page)

***

The next day was Boxing Day and the Darcys were up early to supervise the distribution of the Christmas boxes to the Pemberley dependents. When they were finished, the family had a quiet breakfast and enjoyed their last day together, for tomorrow the Gardiners would leave for Hertfordshire.

***

The colonel arrived in good time on the lightly snowing afternoon, and the Gardiners were interested to meet him, for Elizabeth had told them how pleasant the colonel was after she had first met him in Kent the previous spring. Georgiana and Elizabeth welcomed him to Pemberley, and he bowed over their hands gallantly before Elizabeth introduced him to the Gardiners. He greeted them and they talked easily as they moved into the drawing-room. He was a welcome addition to the dinner table that evening, entertaining them with (hopefully embellished) stories about his life since they had last seen him. He finished a tale involving some new recruits and some errant buckshot and Georgiana commented sardonically, “I hope that this story is not entirely true, Colonel. I would hate to think the safety of the royal family in such inept hands.”

“I swear to you, little cousin, that the tale is entirely—or at least mostly—true.”

His audience laughed and Georgiana rolled her eyes. After they finished eating, Georgiana went upstairs and brought Lucky down to meet her cousin.

“This is Lucky, our new watchdog, Cousin,” she said sternly. “Beware if you decide to sneak downstairs for a glass of ale or a bite of cheese during the night. He is especially fierce about cheese thieves.”

“I am sure he will be a welcome addition to the pack when we go hunting tomorrow as well, my dear little cousin,” he teased. “He will likely be the first to flush the birds, although those short legs may have some difficulty getting over the stiles.”

“Lucky is far too intelligent to spend his morning running around in the mud and the cold as you will be doing, dear cousin,” she replied, giving him an impudent grin.

The Darcys and the colonel excused themselves after dinner and made their required appearance at the servants’ party. Elizabeth and Darcy led the first dance, followed by Georgiana and the colonel. When they finished the dance the colonel bowed to his partner and said, “You are a charming dancer, little cousin.”

Georgiana gave him a sly look. “I was going to say the same about you, Cousin. You have improved much since you tripped over your feet at the New Year’s ball when I was eight years old.”

The colonel gave a thunderous look at Darcy. “Did your brother tell you about that?”

“Oh no, I saw it. After my governess sent me to bed, I got up and watched the dancing from upstairs through the balusters. I laughed so hard that I had to run back to my bedroom so as not to be caught spying. Of course, the next day I had to pretend ignorance or give myself away.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes at Darcy. “The sins of our youth will never be forgotten will they?”

***

Later, Georgiana sat on her bed, chewing her lower lip, before writing,

26 December: It was wonderful to be back on my former terms with my cousin Fitzwilliam tonight and he seems to have forgotten my previous ill-humour. However, I was jolted when I teased the colonel about something which happened when I was eight and he commented that “the sins of our youth will never be forgotten.” I was doing the same thing to him that I have accused him of, i.e., never forgetting my past errors! I am sure that he knows I was only teasing him, but I feel badly about my saucy attempt to embarrass my easygoing guardian. I should be more forgiving of others’ mistakes, but, more importantly, I should be more forgetful of them. Sensitive as I am of my egregious and humiliating behaviour with Wickham, I should not poke fun at others about their trivial indiscretions and errors. Fortunately, the colonel’s innate good humour brushed off my faux pas with a joke. I hope that he was not hurt by my callous comment.

She sighed, closed the book, and blew out her candle.

***

The adults stayed up rather later than usual talking that last evening of their visit, but the Gardiners were up and ready to leave by nine o’clock the next morning. After the bustle of packing and loading the carriage they all said farewell, and Georgiana saw tears glittering in Elizabeth’s eyes. She walked over and put her arms around her sister, and they clung to each other in the chilly air as they watched the carriage disappear into the woods.

All the world’s a stage,

And all the men and women merely players.

—William Shakespeare,
As You Like It

Pemberley was quiet that day after the loss of their friends, but Georgiana felt an air of expectancy in the house as they waited for the Bingleys and Mr. Bennet and Kitty, who were to arrive in a few days. She was eager for the next round of guests, for avoiding too much intimacy within the family circle was her object. If there was no time for questioning and speculation about her marriage prospects, there would be no opportunity for her to lose her temper. Also, the less chance she had to speak, the less likely it was that she would embarrass herself with an awkward attempt at pertness.

In the meantime, Mrs. Reynolds was bustling about, making sure that everything in the house was perfect for their visitors. Her brother and the colonel spent the mornings out with their dogs and the kennel master when the weather permitted, hoping to flush a few pheasants but mostly attempting to train a couple of young dogs. Georgiana went up to the music room and played her harp for two hours to make up for her negligence over the holidays and to avoid a tête-à-tête with Elizabeth and her too observant eyes. She felt like a tightrope walker, carefully balancing her emotions and reactions to avoid both biting sarcasm and ill-timed jocularity.

When she left the music room she encountered Elizabeth in the hall.

“Are you done playing, Georgiana?”

“Yes, my fingertips are sore. I have not been playing enough to toughen them to the strings.”

“I am just on my way to find Mrs. Reynolds so we can work in the picture gallery.”

“I will join you, if you do not mind. I always enjoy hearing about the history of my ancestors, particularly some of those who made rather bad ends. It is interesting to see if you can see their history painted into their portrait faces.”

“I had not thought of looking at it that way. I have heard of occasions, although I do not know if the stories are true, when subjects were unhappy with their portraits because the artist revealed too much about their true character in the work. Apparently, in some of these cases at least, the sitter actually paid extra to compensate the artist for not allowing him to display his work at the Academy, took the painting, and it was never seen again.”

“It would be very interesting to see those paintings, would it not?”

Elizabeth agreed and sent a footman for Mrs. Reynolds, and they spent about an hour in the gallery. Elizabeth had decided after her first session trying to learn the family names and history that she would record the histories of the paintings; so, after this day’s session, Georgiana sat down with her and prompted her while she wrote as much information as they could recall in a journal.

“Well, my dear, I think that we had better quit for today. My brain is full of as many facts as it will safely hold. Thank you for your patience, Georgiana.”

“It was my pleasure, my dear sister.”

They busied themselves later in the afternoon with making preparations for the ball that they would hold to coincide with the Bingleys’ and the Bennets’ visit. After they had decided on the many details with Mrs. Reynolds (or, rather, Elizabeth had decided while Georgiana listened with dismay at all the details involved), Elizabeth suggested a walk to her since the day was fine, although cold. She accepted and they bundled up in their warmest pelisses and gloves, setting out along one of the paths beside the trout stream with Lucky on his lead and Pilot accompanying them.

They meandered along the paths, keeping fairly close to the house since it was too cold to walk far, and Georgiana kept the conversation on the subject of the ball. All of the local gentry had been invited as well as some from farther away who were old acquaintances of the Darcy family and who would stay the night at Pemberley afterwards. They would have ten of their guest rooms filled, and Georgiana was both excited and apprehensive because she had never been to a ball nor seen so many guests at Pemberley.

“I am always so fearful of saying the wrong thing or not doing what I am supposed to, Elizabeth. I don’t know how to stop feeling so nervous,” she admitted, as she fidgeted with Lucky’s lead.

“Experience will help, my dear. With music, practise allows you to know instantly where to put your fingers while reading a piece. Practise making introductions and small talk are the same; the more you work at it, the easier it is.”

Georgiana frowned. “But there are so many possible variations in human intercourse, Elizabeth. You cannot write down a single version of a conversation and rehearse it until you are perfect.”

There was a long pause while the two ladies considered the difficulties.

“Perhaps I could help you,” Elizabeth finally said. “We could pretend various situations and you could practise your responses so that they will eventually come naturally to your lips.” She gave the girl a wry look. “I know that I hate it when I think of something witty to say after the opportunity to speak has passed!”

Georgiana laughed in spite of herself and said, “I doubt if I will ever be witty, my dear sister, but it would be nice to not feel a fool every time I meet someone.”

They agreed to try Elizabeth’s plan when they could be alone and made their way slowly back to the house, Georgiana laughing sardonically to herself about the results of her efforts to avoid situations which could develop into discussions of her thoughts and feelings about single young men. Hoist with her own petard.

***

In the meantime, the gentlemen were watching the kennel master put the dogs through their paces.

“Darcy,” started the colonel, hesitantly, “I want to congratulate you again on your marriage. Mrs. Darcy is a wonderful woman and I am quite jealous of your good fortune in marrying her.” He smiled, looking a little chagrined. “If I had been an eldest son, I might have been tempted to woo her myself.”

Darcy regarded him quizzically, for it was not like his easygoing cousin to be dissatisfied with his lot in life.

“I know that I am very fortunate, Fitzwilliam, and I cannot believe it myself,” he said quietly. He then added in a lighter tone, “I will just have to annoy you as I did when we were lads and quote the Bard to you: ‘Get thee a wife,’ Cousin.”

“I would like to marry,” the colonel returned soberly. “I am ready to settle down, but finding the right woman is the obstacle. After so many years at court, I am afraid that I have developed rather a jaundiced eye for society women—they all seem to be rather shrill and brainless, not to mention the moral standards of those who gather round the Prince Regent. That, of course, includes the exceedingly small number among that set who would even consider marrying a penniless younger son.” He paused for a moment, slapping his gloves against his hands absently, and then continued, his eyes on the line of trees which marked the end of the field.

“Did I tell you that Lady Catherine has been very attentive, writing to me weekly and hoping that I will return for a visit again soon? I think that I am the next sacrificial victim selected to marry our poor cousin Anne.” He grimaced. “I need a wife with a good fortune, but I am not willing to sacrifice every other comfort to marry for it. My father has been gently hinting to me that I should marry Anne; I think he feels that he will have done his duty by his younger son if he can marry him to the de Bourgh money and keep it in the family. To give him his due, I do not believe that he has seen Anne in several years since he is not fond of his sister-in-law’s domineering nature and prefers to be amiable from a distance. He probably does not realise how ill Anne truly is. I know that Lady Catherine always sends glowing reports of how much better some new treatment is working.” He shrugged off his unaccustomed seriousness, pulling his gloves on briskly and adding, “Still, there is always hope! Thank you for listening to my whingeing, Cousin.”

“I am happy to give you a shoulder to cry on, Fitzwilliam,” Darcy said, clapping him on the back. “Perhaps we can find some pleasant ladies at the ball next week who have not been jaded by too much time at court.”

Fitzwilliam smiled vaguely and abruptly changed the subject. “How has Georgiana been?”

Darcy glanced across the field to locate the kennel master and then said in a low voice, “She has been very pleasant over the past fortnight, but before the Gardiners arrived we had a major set-to. It was after we had called on Squire Walker and his wife so I could introduce them to Elizabeth. Jonathan Walker came in during our visit and was very attentive to Georgiana, so afterwards I commented that he seemed to like her very much and she positively turned to ice. She then proceeded to tell me that she was sick of having her every move and every word minutely examined. She apologised the next day and has been very even tempered since, but I do not believe her equanimity is because the problem is resolved. Until the Gardiners arrived and provided an easy distraction, she seemed as taut as one of the strings on her harp.” He suddenly looked at his cousin. “Have you ever seen what happens when a harp string breaks?”

The colonel stared at him in surprise at this seeming non sequitur. “No, I do not believe I have.”

“When the string weakens and breaks it gives off a report like a gun, and the change in tension causes all the other strings to lose their tuning.”

“Ah, I see your point. I, too, am concerned that the pressure that society and family put on her coming-out, at least in her perception, will cause Georgiana to break down. It pains me to see how little regard she has for her own worth. When she was a child she was lively and spirited and had no shyness around others. When she became a young woman she seemed to lose all sense of confidence. I am sure it did not help that your father died around that time.”

They both stood silent, lost in the past, until the dogs and the gamekeeper returned from the end of the field.

***

The gentlemen rejoined the ladies for tea in the afternoon and Darcy asked, “How was your morning, ladies?”

Elizabeth and Georgiana told of their plans for the ball and about their walk (excluding only their plans for Georgiana’s “lessons”) while they poured the tea.

Fitzwilliam turned to Georgiana. “I hope, little cousin, that you are planning to give your old guardian the first dance at the ball.”

Georgiana looked at her hands, suddenly shy, but said calmly enough, “Of course, Cousin.”

“Good, it is settled then. We must show the local youths how it is done,” he said, just a little too heartily.

Georgiana sat silently and the conversation flowed around her. Soon afterwards, the gentlemen retired to the billiard-room and the two ladies went upstairs to Georgiana’s room. Mrs. Annesley was visiting her family for the holidays, so they would be undisturbed while they practised the social graces. Elizabeth played various parts and coached Georgiana when she was at a loss, which was frequently.

“Let us try, again, my dear. Let us try a situation that will soon occur. I will be my sister Jane and I am arriving at Pemberley with my husband, my sister, and my father. You must greet them and then introduce them to Colonel Fitzwilliam. I will play all the other parts as well. All right?”

Georgiana nodded, her face grimly intent.

“My dear Miss Darcy, it is delightful to see you again.” Elizabeth embraced her and then stepped to the side and said in a deep voice, “It is good to see you again, Miss Darcy.”

Georgiana covered her mouth and giggled nervously.

“I am sorry; it is too funny watching you.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “Yes, it probably is, but let us keep our focus on your responses!”

Georgiana took a deep breath and put a pleasant smile on her face as she held out her hand and shook “Bingley’s.” “Thank you, Mr. Bingley. Welcome to Pemberley. I believe you know my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

Elizabeth answered, trying a voice that was just a little lower than her own, “Delighted, Colonel. Yes, we met in London, quite some time ago.”

Elizabeth said, “And now my papa and my sister Kitty come in.”

Georgiana smiled and curtseyed. “Hello, Mr. Bennet, Miss Catherine Bennet. It is good to see you again.” She stopped, frozen, as she desperately searched for the next phrase.

Elizabeth looked at her expectantly until finally Georgiana threw up her hands in despair.

“Now what should I do?”

“You could invite them to follow Mrs. Reynolds upstairs to change and refresh themselves. If they had come just a short way, you could invite them into the drawing-room or wherever you were planning to entertain them and then order tea.”

Georgiana sighed.

“I just seem to freeze. I wish you would instead ask me to conjugate a French verb or recite a passage from a history text, as long as I did not need to do it in front of anyone else. I wish I could be witty and playful like you are, Elizabeth.”

“My dear sister,” Elizabeth said gently, “please, please do not try to be someone else—you want to be yourself. The main purpose of this playacting is not to make you into someone you are not but to make you able to show your lovely, true self without being uncomfortable and shy.”

“How can someone like me compete with all the beautiful, charming young ladies like you?”

“I thank you, Georgiana, for the compliment, but you are an attractive and intelligent young woman, so do not wish to trade places with someone else,” Elizabeth said bracingly. “Now, let us try to go back to the beginning and go step by step through greetings; perhaps we are going too fast.”

They struggled on for another quarter hour, and Georgiana sighed, “I do not think that I am a good actress.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Your brother would probably be happy to know that; think of his horror if you really
were
an actress…! I believe you need to think of this a little differently, Georgiana. You must realise, dearest, that we are all actors, every moment that we are in the society of another person. Every time we are courteous to someone we do not like, or feign an interest in the conversation of someone who is a bore, we are acting. Even with those we love we are acting when we cover up a bad mood or pretend more interest in our friends’ activities than we actually feel in order to avoid hurting their feelings. Our entire existence outside of the circle of our intimate friends and family is only appearance, a masque if you will, which covers and protects our true selves.”