Mr. Darcy's Little Sister (22 page)

Georgiana was exhausted as they rode home from the ball and she noticed that Elizabeth looked very tired also. They both had entertained such intense hopes for the evening and she did not know quite what to think of the results.

***

When they arrived home, Georgiana and Kitty went immediately upstairs, but Darcy held Elizabeth back and gestured towards the drawing-room, closing the door behind them after they entered.

“Did you know that Georgiana was interested in the colonel before tonight?”

Elizabeth paused but could see no way to avoid the direct question, “Yes, I have known for a few days.”

“Why did you not tell me?”

“Georgiana told me in confidence and asked me not to tell you, so I felt I could not betray her trust.”

“Why did she not want me to know? I could have spoken to Fitzwilliam…” His brows knitted in irritation.

Elizabeth glared at him. “That is exactly what she does
not
want!”

“I don’t understand; why would my sister not want me to know her feelings when it concerns her entire future?” he exclaimed, his voice momentarily rising before he forced it back down to a whisper.

“She is in love with him and wants him to marry her because he loves her, not because he feels a family obligation,” she said crisply. “If you talk to him about her feelings for him, it is tantamount to asking him to marry her. He probably will agree because he feels a responsibility towards her and the match is very eligible for the both of them as far as fortune and background. She, however, does not want to spend the rest of her life with a guardian; she wants to spend it with a husband—and it is entirely your fault that she feels that way!” She stopped, shocked at her own vehemence.

“My fault! What do you mean?” he asked with asperity.

“Your sister, my dear husband, wants a marriage with the love, affection, and, I hope, trust,” she said dryly, “between husband and wife that you have achieved.” Then she added hurriedly, with a slight blush, “…albeit through months of agony and uncertainty beforehand, of which she has probably only the slightest comprehension.”

They stared at each other.

“I am sorry, my love,” Darcy said finally and slumped down onto the sofa, rubbing his brow. “I am being a mutton-headed dolt. I, of all people, cannot blame Georgiana for not wanting a neat and polite marriage arranged by family members when she could have a ‘marriage of true minds’ as her brother and sister have.” He finally smiled at her and took her hand and she felt a rush of relief that he was not annoyed because she had not shared Georgiana’s confessions with him earlier.

She returned, quietly, “
Comprends-tu la situation maintenant, mon amour?
”

“
Oui, je la comprends parfaitement. Mais, mon Dieu, quel problème!
”

“
Oui, c’est vrai.
”

They slowly mounted the stairs, both musing over what she had told him. As Elizabeth turned to go to her room, Darcy stopped her again and whispered, “Is there nothing we can do to help this situation?”

“I think that we have done everything we can do; it is up to Georgiana now,” she said, her confidence returning.

He nodded in reluctant agreement then turned to his dressing-room, shaking his head as he went.

***

Later, when Elizabeth was asleep, Darcy stared up into the darkness and reviewed the discussion in the drawing-room without satisfaction. The question of his sister’s feelings for her cousin, and his for her, was of only peripheral importance to his current reflections. His thoughts and actions in the beginning of that conversation struck him as unpleasantly similar to those of the person that he had been eighteen months ago—the ghost of an affronted, arrogant man rising like the miasma from a crypt to assault his intellect and emotions. He had managed to suppress that old Darcy this evening, but it was disconcerting to know that he still lurked in a dim corner of his mind, waiting to appear at the slightest provocation. Elizabeth’s ironic comment about trust had struck home, bringing him abruptly to his senses.

He had always wanted Elizabeth to be Georgiana’s sister and it was only fair that she should keep her sister’s confidences, just as he knew she would keep his. The insufferable pride which had caused all of the emotional pain he had endured during their courtship was clearly not excised, merely dormant. He must make sure to keep that phantom of the past in the deepest dungeons of his mind. He smiled to himself. No doubt Elizabeth would point out his error, as she had tonight, should he stray towards overweening arrogance again.

Another question rose in his mind. What should he do about Georgiana and Fitzwilliam? He had already taken a small step towards enlightening his cousin about Georgiana’s regard for him when he opened Fitzwilliam’s eyes to the fact that she was no longer the gangly little girl who had followed them adoringly, barred from joining their pursuits by both her youth and her gender. Even he, who had provided her with all of the accoutrements of a young lady for the past five years, had been rattled tonight when he had seen her in the ballroom. He had, for a fraction of a second, not recognised the elegant woman before him as the same young lady, barely out of girlhood, who had kissed him on the cheek this morning when she came down to breakfast. He had felt a sense of loss as she glided off for her dances with her cousin St. George, the foreshadow of her inevitable loss to adulthood and marriage. That Georgiana was ready for the change was unarguable after tonight, and the answer to his question was clear. She did not want him to influence the colonel’s decision. As Elizabeth had said, it was up to Georgiana now.

***

Georgiana was still lying awake and staring up into the darkness when her brother drifted off to sleep. She had gone immediately to bed when they arrived at Ashbourne House, with nothing more than a faint “goodnight” to anyone. She had hoped to drown her uncertainty in the arms of Morpheus, but she could not. With a sigh, she finally rose and lit a single candle before pulling out her diary. She scanned the last few pages and sighed again before dipping her pen into the ink.

24 May: The ball went well tonight with regard to my costume and I was able to throw myself wholeheartedly into my performance, but I am confused and unsure as to the results. The colonel seemed stunned by my appearance, but I could not detect whether he was overcome with love at my mature appearance or simply shocked at my bold glances when we finally danced. He certainly looked more ill than in love. Lord St. George, on the other hand, seemed quite impressed with his newly adult cousin and danced attendance along with the other single men. What an ironic twist of fate that is! For my part, every time I look at the colonel I see something new. Every feature is somehow more defined: the solidity of bone and muscle, the quirk of a brow, the curl of hair above a collar. It is as if he is changing before my eyes, except that I know that the changes are not in him, they are in me; it is my sensitivity to his looks, his actions, and his words which mark a revolution in my thinking. He is the same man he always was. Perhaps I will talk to Elizabeth in the morning and ask her opinion of the evening. I hope she has some counsel or comfort for me.

She carefully placed the pen in the holder and her diary in the drawer of her bedside table and climbed back in bed, but it was long before she dozed off.

***

The next morning, Georgiana was waiting in the breakfast-parlour when Elizabeth and Darcy came down.

“Why are you up so early, my love? You need your sleep if you are going to attend all of the parties for which you are engaged,” she exclaimed.

“I awakened early and could not fall back to sleep,” she said with a serious countenance.

Darcy glanced at Elizabeth and said, “Well, I had better go; I am expecting to meet with Bingley at the club for breakfast soon and I would not want to keep him waiting.”

He quickly left the room.

Elizabeth turned back to Georgiana, who was picking at her food, the corners of her mouth drooping.

“What is bothering you, dearest?”

Georgiana sighed, her lip quivering slightly.

“I was disappointed that the colonel did not dance with me again last night. I am probably being unreasonable, but I hoped that after all of the preparations we did before the ball he would respond more.” She stopped and smiled ruefully. “I guess that I expected him to fall at my feet in a swoon when I appeared in the room.”

Elizabeth quickly reassured her. “You must give him a little time. I believe from my observations last night that he now realises that you are a woman, not a little girl. That alone was a great step for him to make. You must now make him also realise that he loves you. You must conquer one difficulty at a time.”

Georgiana sighed and said, “You are correct, of course, but it is difficult to be patient. I am so afraid that he will make an offer to someone else before I can convince him to look at me, especially since you and my brother have given him such a model of domestic felicity to strive for.” She managed a brief smile before resuming, “While my brother was still unwed and I was not yet out in society I felt I had all the time in the world and did not want this year to arrive. Now I feel as if time is rushing away like a runaway horse while I am plodding behind in the dust. I hope that I have not grown up too late. Last night it was all I could do to keep myself from throwing my diary, my pen, and everything on my dressing table across the room in my frustration. If you will excuse me, I think I will play the pianoforte; it will probably ‘soothe my fevered brow.’” She made a determined effort to smile and left the room.

***

When Darcy returned in the early afternoon he sought out Elizabeth in the drawing-room while the two girls were upstairs playing with Lucky and asked her how Georgiana was.

“I thought it best that I leave this morning so that she could talk to you confidentially, but I am concerned about her.”

She reassured him again. “Trust me, I have lived with three younger sisters, and this is not abnormal. She is a bit overwrought about the Season and the prospect of marriage and everything that is changing in her life. She will be herself again when the suspense of this year is over—whether she is engaged by that time or not—unless of course the colonel becomes engaged to someone else during that time.”

“I hope you are right, my love. I feel as if I have aged several years in the last few months.” He rubbed his hands wearily over his face.

“I feel the same. I am afraid that I am going to collapse before the Season is over. Between watching over Georgiana and Kitty both, I think that I am wearing down to a mere shadow of my former self.”

“You do look tired, my love,” he said with a worried frown. “Why don’t you rest this afternoon?”

“I believe I will, if I can.”

She took his advice and rested for two hours in her room that afternoon. She felt much better afterwards and decided to ask Jane if she would invite Kitty to stay with her for a few weeks. Jane called in the afternoon, soon after she rose from her rest, saying, “I sent a note earlier, but Mr. Darcy said that you were resting. Are you feeling quite well?”

“I am well—just a little tired after all the parties and balls for Georgiana.”

“Perhaps I should ask Kitty to stay with us until you are feeling better,” Jane said immediately.

Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head in astonishment. “I was going to ask you if you would invite her, but you have anticipated me, as you usually do.”

It was soon settled that Kitty would spend the next fortnight with the Bingleys and help Jane with a party she was planning. She went happily to Berkeley Square the next day, and the Darcys were left to their own devices.

The course of true love never did run smooth.

—William Shakespeare,
A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Georgiana had expected to see the colonel in their drawing-room very soon, but three days went by and they saw nothing of him, not even at the parties they attended. Viscount St. George, on the other hand, was a daily visitor, stopping for short visits each late afternoon to talk to Elizabeth and to be charming to Georgiana. His social graces were formidable, and he was able to converse on a variety of topics in an interesting fashion. His easy manners rivalled those of his brother, but Georgiana always found him rather too interested in his own self. She noticed that when he passed a glass he always checked his appearance in it and stopped to rearrange a fold of his cravat or the curl tumbling artfully over one brow. He was courteous to Elizabeth in a condescending way, which clearly demonstrated that he knew of her rather humble origins.

Georgiana tried to be gracious and to appear to be happy to see him, considering it good practise for her social skills, but she forgot him when he was not preening himself in front of her. She was, however, nettled by St. George’s continued patronising attitude towards Elizabeth. On the fifth day after the Elliots’ ball, Lord St. George was telling them a piece of gossip, which included familiarly dropping the names of several peers in the Prince Regent’s circle. He stopped part way through the story and said to Elizabeth, with a deprecating smile, “I am sorry, my dear cousin, I should not bore you with stories about people with whom you are not acquainted.”

Georgiana interjected austerely, “Indeed not, Cousin, it would be abominably rude of you to do so.”

She smiled sweetly at him and he had the grace to look a little ashamed. He turned the conversation to another topic and left after a few minutes, scrupulously polite to both ladies in his farewells.

The setdown did not keep Lord St. George from their door the next day, however, and he was still with them when the colonel, resplendent in his regimentals, finally came to call in the afternoon.

“I apologise for neglecting you, Cousin Georgiana,” he said after he had greeted both ladies, “but I was needed at the palace and was not able to absent myself.” He turned to his brother and added in a cooler tone, “What a surprise to see you here, Brother.”

“Yes, I have been enjoying making the acquaintance of my new cousin-in-law and renewing my acquaintance with Georgiana while you have been playing soldier,” Viscount St. George drawled, with just the faintest hint of condescension in his voice.

“How thoughtful of you, my dear brother,” the colonel said smoothly. “I am surprised that your busy schedule allows you to pay afternoon calls.”

“Well,” he said as he smiled at Georgiana, “one must not neglect one’s family, especially not such attractive family.”

Georgiana thought she saw the colonel bridle slightly, but he quickly brought himself under control, although his face was far from having its usual pleasant expression. He appeared to her… she struggled for the apt description—stiff and uncomfortable and possibly, deep down, resentful of his brother. The viscount left after a few minutes and the colonel followed soon thereafter. She tried to keep him longer by putting a hand gently on his arm and saying, “Must you leave so soon, Colonel? You just arrived.”

“I am truly sorry, my dear cousin, but duty calls me. I need to speak to your brother this afternoon, but I wanted to stop in and let you know that I haven’t forgotten you,” he said hesitantly then bowed and left the room abruptly.

Georgiana stared at the door for several moments after he left.

“Well,” Elizabeth ventured after a pause, “at least he did not call you ‘little cousin.’”

Georgiana finally found her voice and said, “Please excuse me, Elizabeth, I am going to have a fit of hysterics and I don’t wish you to witness it, so I will go to my room.”

She walked stiffly out of the drawing-room and up the stairs.

Elizabeth could not help smiling to herself, in spite of her worries over Georgiana. Having a sister who went calmly upstairs to “have hysterics” was a considerable change from the Bennet family in which every passion was inflicted upon all of the relations. She sighed at the perversity of mankind and went to her room to rest. She could not help Georgiana keep her spirits up if she was so exhausted that she was in a state of collapse.

***

In the library, Fitzwilliam sat forwards in his chair and said in a hushed voice, “Darcy, I gave those letters to someone who gathers information for Lord Liverpool, and he was most appreciative. He has a network of informants who bring him facts, rumours, and stories and he sits like a spider in his web and collects and sifts the information to squeeze out a few truths for his master. I suspect that he gathers information on the Prince Regent as well. At any rate, he is the man who first brought me the rumour of a possible assassination attempt on the Prince Regent by this group of arms smugglers.

“I suppose Perceval’s assassination two years ago made them think that it might be possible to reach the Prince Regent as well, and there are any number of people who dislike the prince’s influence on society. If they could escape without being immediately identified they might succeed and the entire government might be destabilised, allowing Napoleon to rise again and re-form his army.” He gave his cousin a sharp look. “The arms business would remain brisk.”

Darcy, who had been watching his cousin over his steepled fingers while he spoke, nodded his understanding and the colonel continued.

“This aide of Liverpool’s has gathered enough confirmatory evidence related to the clues in the letters to suggest that Captain Blackman is indeed involved in smuggling arms to France. On the twelfth he had a quiet talk to the captain and convinced him that it would be in his best interest to help them put his associates out of business. He finally admitted the plan and gave them the meeting place and time in Calais. Unfortunately, either the captain managed to warn the lady or she had spies of her own posted. In either case, she did not keep their engagement, and the captain has been quietly arrested and is being held very closely; he is sweating now, but has not yet given them the names of his associates. From what they have gathered, the lady seems to be the leader and has shown an organisational ability and lack of moral squeamishness far beyond what one might expect from one of the female sex. That is all I have for now, but I thought you might be interested to know the importance of the letter you appropriated.”

“Have you given any more thought to Walker?”

“I have, but I have not resolved yet how to deal with him. Did you speak to Sir Robert?”

“Yes. I was finally forced to send him an invitation to dine and hope that Walker did not hear of it and become suspicious. I arranged a private room at the club and, as you might imagine, it was a damned awkward interview. Sir Robert was understandably shocked and very distressed about his sister. Walker is pressing for a quick wedding and Miss Blake is very eager to marry, but Blake thinks that he can influence her not to rush into marriage. From what he said, she has been desperate to find a husband and frustrated by the lack of opportunities in the country. Her family’s continued association with trade has held her back socially in spite of their fortune, and he believes that she accepted Walker as the answer to her prayers for a husband with an ancient family name to cleanse her of that taint. Now that she is engaged to be married, she will hopefully be amenable to enjoying her status through the rest of the Season before planning the wedding.

“Fortunately, Blake has control of her dowry, so he has a powerful inducement for Walker to submit to his pressure. Apparently, Blake’s father left everything to Sir Robert and left with him the responsibility to provide for his brothers and sister. If necessary, he can inform his sister about the true character of her fiancé, but he is hoping that she will see through him on her own and break off the engagement. Blake will be alert, of course, to any hint that Walker has convinced her to marry without his consent, but it would seem unlikely that Walker would risk the loss of her dowry.”

“Good. At least he knows what Walker is. I must return to the palace. I will keep you informed.”

Darcy lifted his glass of wine to his cousin and the colonel departed.

***

Georgiana worked out her feelings with Beethoven, concentrating on his most dramatic and, occasionally, disturbing pieces. An hour later, she was very warm and stopped to cool off. Elizabeth came in the music room and said, “How are you doing, my sweet?” as she brushed a few damp hairs back from Georgiana’s brow. “Are you feeling calmer now that you have had your hysterics?”

Georgiana gave a weak smile. “Yes, I am… I am sorry to be so out of spirits lately.”

“Compared to some of my sisters, you are a model of serenity, my dear.” Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. “Sometimes I feel that it is a shame we women cannot relieve our emotions by participating in some of the more violent sports,” she reflected. “There have been times in my life when I have felt that a few rounds in a boxing ring would be just the thing to restore my happiness.”

Georgiana laughed until she had to wipe the tears from her eyes. “My dear Mrs. Darcy, you never cease to surprise me. I wonder if I will ever be able to predict what you will say next.”

They both laughed then, and Georgiana felt better as she went upstairs to dress for dinner. They were to dine at Longford House before going on to a party at a friend’s. The dinner was to be a family party only and the colonel was expected to be there, as was Lord St. George. Lady Whitwell had told Elizabeth, when she extended the invitation, “We will have a nice quiet family dinner. Georgiana probably needs to recoup her energy after her first round of parties.”

Elizabeth told Georgiana that she had agreed that a quiet dinner would be a good idea, although she privately wondered whether she would get one with the two sons of the house present.

The Darcys arrived early at Longford House and gathered with the family in the drawing-room before dinner. Lord St. George clung tenaciously to Georgiana’s side and made small talk, but Georgiana eventually allowed her attention to lapse and looked for the colonel. He was the last to appear, and he saw his brother and Georgiana and immediately made his way towards them. Georgiana turned to him, turning her back to St. George’s chatter, and the colonel greeted her formally with a bow.

“How charming you look tonight, Georgiana.”

She looked into his eyes and managed a half-smile.

“I thank you, Colonel,” was the best answer she could form, her mouth suddenly dry.

Lord St. George cleared his throat to regain her attention, and she glanced up at his petulant expression.

“What were we discussing, Cousin?”

Before St. George could speak, a footman announced dinner and Lord Whitwell led Elizabeth into the dining-room, followed by Viscount St. George and Georgiana, and Darcy and Lady Whitwell. Colonel Fitzwilliam brought up the rear of the procession with Mrs. Appleton, a very elderly cousin of Lord Whitwell’s, on his arm. Georgiana noted acidly to herself that this was a rather apt demonstration of the status of the younger son of a noble house.

Georgiana was seated between Lord Whitwell and Lord St. George and she divided her time between the two, listening quietly and nodding occasionally as the conversation demanded but not saying much in return. She managed to glance covertly down the table towards the colonel, who was talking abstractedly to Mrs. Appleton. Georgiana thought that Lord St. George seemed far too absorbed by her conversation, and she tried to distance herself by speaking with her uncle as much as she could without rudeness. She did intercept a speculative look between Lord and Lady Whitwell when they saw that their son was vying for her attention, and her ears caught the querulous tones of Mrs. Appleton asking the colonel, “When are you two young men going to get married? It is time that you both did your duty to the family.”

The colonel gave her a wan smile but managed to deflect the attack, agreeing with her that it would be a desirable action on his part but saying that he would not want to act precipitously.

“A little more precipitance would perhaps be advisable in the case of yourself and your brother. Neither of you is getting any younger, you know,” she returned tartly. Then with a wizened smile that took the sting from her words she added, “However, you must forgive an opinionated old lady for prying into your affairs. Marriages and deaths are meat and drink to someone as old as I.” She chuckled at his expression and patted his arm. “You must take some pointers from your cousin,” she said, nodding towards Darcy, “and find yourself a pretty young woman before they are all married off.”

The colonel chuckled halfheartedly, glancing at his brother and Georgiana. His mother turned the conversation in another direction, and the colonel seconded her efforts with relief.

The ladies soon rose and adjourned to the drawing-room, where Mrs. Appleton engaged Georgiana’s attention with a lively account of her own coming-out almost fifty years earlier. They were well entertained until the gentlemen joined them and they poured out the tea and coffee. Lord St. George requested a song from the ladies, bowing impartially between Elizabeth and Georgiana. When Elizabeth demurred, Georgiana rose and went to the pianoforte, where she selected a sonata and began playing. Lord St. George turned the pages for her and seemed rapt in the music—or at least in the musician.

The colonel joined them at the instrument and stationed himself where he could see Georgiana’s face and where she could in turn see him when she glanced up from her music. During one glance upwards, her gaze caught his and she stumbled over a note before she could look down again and find her place. Lord St. George gave his brother a sardonic look and drawled, “Brother, you should find another place from which to enjoy the music. You disconcert our cousin hanging over her like a carrion bird.”

Georgiana gave him a piercing look and said astringently, “I know of no one who resembles a vulture less than your brother, Lord St. George; and if I was disconcerted by being watched while I played then you would be at fault as well.”