Mr. Darcy's Little Sister (7 page)

“You were brilliant, Georgiana. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You know very well what, my dear sister.”

“For trying to teach London society courteous behaviour? I know that it is a hopeless cause; I could but try.”

Her brother was watching her in mute astonishment, and she subsided with a blush.

“I-I hope I did not embarrass you, Brother.”

“Indeed you did not. To quote my dear wife, ‘you were brilliant’ and I applaud you.”

She blushed again and was silent for the rest of the ride.

***

Georgiana went upstairs immediately when they arrived at Ashbourne House, but the evening was pleasant, so she sat by her open window to cool off her warm cheeks and write in her diary before trying to sleep. Her window looked down into the garden, and she saw her brother and sister sitting on a bench with a bare-limbed lilac arched over them. She laid her head on her crossed arms and thought about the evening for a while and then sat up and wrote,

28 October:
Romeo and Juliet
was surprisingly enjoyable in spite of being presented by a lesser-known company. Unfortunately, the haughty matrons who control London society were out in force, eager to cut my dear brother and sister dead. I confess that I lost my temper and forced myself on one of the worst of the gossips, whose pallid and insipid daughter I know slightly, and introduced Elizabeth, allowing the gorgon no escape from acknowledging my sister. It was really quite delicious at the time, but I hope that my actions do not harm my sister’s chances of acceptance in society. Oh well, the deed is done and cannot be undone, and I confess that I am unrepentant.

As she gazed out of the window pensively, she saw her brother lightly trace the shape of his wife’s cheek with his fingertips and Elizabeth reach up to run her fingers through his hair. Before Georgiana could draw back, her restrained and reserved brother swept his wife into his arms and Georgiana could almost feel the heat of their passion. She jumped back from the window, feeling like a
voyeuse
, but she was smiling in spite of her burning cheeks when she climbed into bed.

This having learnt, thou hast attained the sum

Of wisdom;

—John Milton,
Paradise Lost

The next morning, the three Darcys were finishing their breakfast when the post came. Darcy paused over one letter written on creamy hot-pressed notepaper as he sipped the last of his tea. Elizabeth noticed his distraction and asked, “What is it, my dear?”

“The note is from Lady Cranton inviting us to dine. She includes you, Georgiana, in the invitation, by the way. Cranton was at Cambridge at the same time as I, but he was a few years older and we were not close friends. I ran into him at my club yesterday and spoke with him briefly. He was always insatiably curious about other people’s affairs, so I suspect that he wants to be among the first to meet you, Elizabeth. I also seem to recall that he and my cousin St. George had a bit of a falling-out last year over an affair of honour, so he may want to spite St. George a little by welcoming me, the family outcast, as well.” His final remark was a trifle acid.

“Well, we do not need to go in that case, do we?” Elizabeth queried as she refilled his cup.

“Well, it is not required, certainly, but Cranton was not a bad sort—at least he was not when we were at university. I do not really know if he has changed,” Darcy mused. “He was always rather like a puppy who was eager to be friends with everyone; like Bingley in some ways, now that I come to think of it. That wasn’t a quality I appreciated at the time, but I think that I might be more tolerant of it now.” He smiled down at her. “He and his wife are known for their frequent dinner parties, which are small but select… They try to put together an assortment of interesting people, not just those who are socially prominent, but people who are accomplished in their fields.

“I think, on consideration, that we should go; I want you to be accepted wherever you choose to go in society, so I would not wish to reject the hand of friendship if it is offered. Also, the Cranton’s parties have the reputation of being stimulating without pandering to the dissipated element of the
haut ton
, so I would not be concerned taking Georgiana with us.” He smiled at his sister and then gave Elizabeth a sly glance. “In addition, I could probably use the experience to further my transformation into a full-fledged human being, a process which was started a year ago by a young lady in Hertfordshire.”

“All right, if you wish, dear,” Elizabeth said with a slight smile. “However, I think that you are fairly human already—of course, one can never practise too much, as Lady Catherine kindly pointed out to me
several
times while I was playing the pianoforte at Rosings Park.”

Georgiana stifled a giggle as a footman entered to replenish the platters on the sideboard. Her sister certainly had Lady Catherine’s character down.

When they finished and were leaving the table, Georgiana, thinking ahead to the evening, asked her, “Elizabeth? Could you help me decide what would be appropriate to wear tonight?”

“I would be delighted, my dear, but to tell you the truth, I am going to consult Lambert about my toilette. We will ask her advice about yours as well.”

They went upstairs and found the maid organizing her new mistress’s dressing-room.

“Lambert? Miss Darcy and I need your advice. We are going to a dinner party tonight, and it will be my first appearance at a private party since my marriage. I wish to appear reasonably à la mode, but I do not wish to stand out from the other ladies. This will also be Miss Darcy’s first formal dinner outside of the family circle.”

Lambert considered for a moment as she scanned the gowns in the wardrobe. “
Oui
, Madame Darcy. I would suggest the cream silk with the Pomona sash. It is au courant but not too assertive and will make a lovely background for your jade necklace and bracelet, if you should wish to wear them.”

“Very good, Lambert. That sounds perfect, and I would love to wear the jade first. They are quite unique. Shall we see what Miss Darcy has to choose from?”

They went down the hall to Georgiana’s room and Lambert looked over each of her evening gowns, finally selecting a cream silk with a satin stripe.

“I would suggest this, Miss Darcy. You will blend with Mrs. Darcy, and I can arrange some pearls in your hair. Mademoiselle will be
très élégante
.”

“Thank you, Miss Lambert.”

“My pleasure, Miss Darcy.” The maid curtseyed and left. Georgiana sighed with relief and commented to Elizabeth, “I am glad I will not need to worry about that all day.”

“Yes. It will not be long before you have your own maid, you know. In fact, I think your brother is interviewing one tomorrow. He trusts he can find someone suitable before we leave for Pemberley so she can return with us. She will have several months to learn your tastes and wishes, and Lambert can train her before your first Season.”

Georgiana winced. “I would prefer not to look that far ahead in time, if you please.”

Elizabeth chuckled at her expression but gave her a reassuring embrace.

“Do not worry; you will be fine, my dear.”

“I hope you are correct. If you will excuse me, I think I will practise the pianoforte.”

“Of course.”

Georgiana spent the next two hours playing mournful largos and adagios, until she had played herself out of her morbid fears, but she still felt a nervous flutter in her stomach when she went upstairs to change. She came tentatively down the stairs when it was time to leave and gasped when she saw Elizabeth.

“Oh my. You look wonderful, Elizabeth! The Chinese pieces are even more beautiful than I realised.”

Elizabeth kissed her cheek and said, “Thank you, my dear. You look lovely too.”

Georgiana glanced down at her gown. “I suppose I look well enough for a little girl.” She sighed and they left the house for their dinner at Lord Cranton’s.

***

When their carriage pulled up in front of Brentwood House, the Darcys alighted and were admitted by a footman. Lord Cranton was a heavyset man in his early thirties with thinning dark hair and a bit of a paunch who greeted them enthusiastically and introduced his wife. Lady Cranton, in contrast to her husband, was a tall, elegant woman dressed in the height of fashion. She greeted them politely, but rather coolly and then examined Elizabeth speculatively.

“I am pleased to meet you, Mrs. Darcy; your fame precedes you,” she said courteously.

“And how is that Lady Cranton? I did not realise that my activities were of sufficient note to constitute fame,” Elizabeth returned irrepressibly.

Lord Cranton interjected with a guffaw, “Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, has been singing your praises for weeks, I assure you.”

“Our cousin does me too much honour,” Elizabeth returned politely.

“If you will enter the salon you may thank him yourself, as he is one of our guests tonight,” Lady Cranton said with a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “He must be commended for his judgement,” she added as she slipped her arm through Elizabeth’s and led her into the salon to meet the other guests. Georgiana was pleased that her cousin Fitzwilliam had made the effort to praise Elizabeth.

Most of the men seemed to be “Lords” or “Sirs” and were generally known to Darcy, and they seemed uniformly eager to make Elizabeth’s acquaintance. Georgiana tried to remain unnoticed, but her brother and sister made sure that she was introduced. The ladies in the room were, at least superficially, courteous to Elizabeth, but there were a few that Georgiana thought looked rather rapacious, watching her sister with jealous, predatory eyes as the gentlemen gathered round to be introduced. Colonel Fitzwilliam excused himself from the group he was in and greeted his cousins warmly.

“It is good to see the three of you,” he said. “I trust everyone is well at the Darcy household.”

Elizabeth assured him that they were quite well and he asked how her family was coping with the loss of two daughters at once.

“My father finds it very difficult to have us out of the home circle,” Elizabeth said, “but the Bingleys reside only a few miles from Longbourn, which must be of some consolation to him.”

Darcy interjected smoothly, “How is your family, Fitzwilliam?”

“My parents are very well and are back at Whitwell Abbey,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I am sure you will be hearing from them soon. It is such a shame that they were unable to join me at your wedding.”

“Indeed it was,” Georgiana said under her breath.

The colonel gave her a piercing glance before turning back to Darcy, and she felt herself flush with embarrassment.

“I trust that we will see them soon,” Darcy said, with dryness that only his family would detect.

When dinner was announced Elizabeth, to Georgiana’s surprise, was expected to lead the way into the dining-parlour with Lord Cranton. She could see the jealous looks of the other women boring into her sister’s back like daggers, and she wondered briefly whether Lord Cranton was purposely trying to make Elizabeth unpopular. A glance at his face assured her that his straightforwards nature was unfeigned and he was simply unaware of their looks as he paid the honour due to the new bride. Georgiana heard her name.

“Miss Darcy?”

A slightly built but boldly handsome and dissolute-appearing young man with dark auburn hair and intense grey-blue eyes was offering her his arm. He had been briefly introduced to their group as Lord Byron. She had been struck dumb on meeting the notorious poet, whose unsavoury reputation had reached even into her sheltered life, but finding herself his partner was a shock. She managed to curtsey and take his arm. Fortunately, it was only a moment before they were seated, with Lord Byron between Georgiana and Elizabeth. Georgiana listened unabashedly to his conversation with Elizabeth, as, she noticed, did a number of the guests at their end of the table.

“I am delighted to meet you Mrs. Darcy. I understand that you and Darcy were married only a few days ago.”

“Yes, my lord, only about a week ago.”

“I congratulate you. I am desolated, however, that I have never met you in the years that I have been in London. I thought that I had met all of the beautiful young ladies here, and now I find that I have missed two of the loveliest.” His glance included Georgiana in his compliment.

“My family lives very retired in Hertfordshire, my lord,” Elizabeth answered him simply.

“A shame, but I am very pleased that I am now able to make your acquaintance. How did you and Darcy meet?”

She gave him a very short version of their courtship, which seemed to amuse the poet.

“I do not know Darcy well, but I can see that I have underestimated his fire and audacity, Mrs. Darcy. I would have guessed that he would make a much more—shall we say?—
conventional
alliance with one of the belles of the
haut ton
.”

“I think perhaps, my lord, that many people underestimate the depth and breadth of my husband’s mind,” Elizabeth said firmly.

“I certainly did!” Lord Cranton interjected with a laugh. “And I have known Darcy since we were at Cambridge! He always took top honours, but no imagination at all!”

Elizabeth answered, with a knowing look at her host, “From what I have heard of undergraduates, my lord, perhaps imagination is something that should be discouraged at a university.”

The gentlemen both laughed good-naturedly as the soup was served, and Georgiana had a moment to gather her thoughts and glance around the table before Lord Byron turned to her.

Her brother was seated across from her and part way down the table with an attractive young woman in a very low-cut sapphire gown to his right and an older woman dressed in elaborate purple satin to his left. The older woman had introduced herself before dinner as Mrs. Hatfield. She was polite enough to her dinner partners but seemed to have only partial attention to give them, spending most of her time attempting to watch an older gentleman down the table who was talking animatedly with the young woman seated between him and Darcy. The young woman, on the other hand, seemed far more interested in Georgiana’s brother, turning often from her more loquacious partner to ask his opinion, gazing into his face while he answered politely but with a touch of the sardonic in his smile.

Lord Byron claimed Georgiana’s attention, but his remarks to her were in a very different tone than those to Elizabeth. His face was open and friendly and his conversation gentle and undemanding, allowing Georgiana to listen and nod mutely. He told one little anecdote of his school days, and she could not help but smile at his humorous manner. He seemed pleased with her response but did not question or pressure her. When the fish course arrived, Georgiana turned to her right-hand partner, as courtesy dictated, but the elderly man was absorbed with his dinner and only made the minimum of conversation required for politeness. She was thus able to keep an eye on Lord Byron out of the corner of her eye. He had an almost magnetic gaze, which he now turned eagerly back upon Elizabeth.

“I must ask you, Mrs. Darcy, whence your jewels came. I have never seen anything like them.”

“They have been in the Darcy family for generations, my lord, and came originally from China.”

“They are magnificent.”

“I thank you, my lord.”

“And so, Mrs. Darcy, how do you find London? Have you been here before?”

“Yes, my lord, but only to visit my aunt and uncle and take in the occasional concert or play. I have not spent any great amount of time here.”

He was eager to hear what she had seen and, as she told him, his eyes seemed to bore into her. Elizabeth seemed unaware of the intensity of his gaze and calmly mentioned that they had attended
Romeo and Juliet
that week.

“It is not one of my favourites among Shakespeare’s works,” he said. “I would recommend
Hamlet
for the person of discriminating taste. Shakespeare’s portrayal of the edge of madness rings very true to my ear. Have you seen it?”

“No, my lord, but I have read it. I found that
Romeo and Juliet
seemed much more credible on the stage than it had in my reading. It is difficult to really appreciate the passions driving the characters when you are merely reading dialogue, particularly dialogue in archaic English.” He leaned towards her and appeared to be even more intent on her words as she spoke of passions. She glanced at Georgiana and hurried on. “I prefer his comedies;
Much Ado About Nothing
is my favourite, I believe. I am of rather a cynical temperament, I confess, but I nonetheless prefer my entertainment to have a happy ending. Perhaps also I identify myself overmuch with Beatrice.” She smiled, and Lord Byron seemed charmed.