The Darcy Cousins (21 page)

"Rivals?" he said. "I had never thought of it that way." He stared at the ears of the grey horse ahead, reflecting. "Perhaps there is some truth in it, though why, heaven only knows. Percy's father was very harsh, and mine was--I am tempted to say the opposite. My father was always kind and forgiving, whereas his father was, to put it mildly, vindictive and bitter. Whenever he came home from India, Percy escaped him by coming to stay with us. He was afraid of him." He paused, remembering. "I suppose in many ways he envies the closeness of our family. He grieved for my father a long time when he died. But does he see me as a rival?

I do not think so."

Georgiana had not meant that Channing saw Gatley as a rival.

She had meant something else entirely. Given Channing's attractive personality, she had thought rather that Gatley would wish he had Channing's ease in social situations and would be envious of Channing's success with the ladies in particular. But she should have known that Gatley had too high a sense of his own worth to see it any other way. She smiled to herself. It is a truism that people see the world from their own vantage point, moving through life with blinkers on their eyes. How true this was in Gatley's case!

"Have I amused you?" asked Gatley, puzzled.

"Yes, I suppose you have," said Georgiana, "but please do not ask me to explain why."

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He examined her closely. Normally, such scrutiny would have intimidated her, but now, his bafflement made her laugh even more.

For the rest of the drive they exchanged little more than banalities. But her amusement lasted until she reached home, so that when Elizabeth asked her if her drive had gone well, she was able to answer, quite truthfully, that she had enjoyed it very much.

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Chapter 16

There must be a moment in a young lady's life when her family no longer appears a sanctuary, but rather a prison--even if woven with the silken threads of concern--obstructing her chance of going out into the world. Georgiana had reached that moment.

"I hear that you enjoyed your drive with Mr Gatley yesterday,"

said Darcy the next day, at a quiet family dinner that was rare these days--for they were either invited somewhere or dinner was in some way interrupted by cries of appeal from the nursery. "Do you not find Gatley an intriguing companion?"

Georgiana did not like to have her words misconstrued. She had enjoyed the drive, but not for the reasons they had assumed.

Darcy had that approving, paternalistic expression he had acquired after little Lewis was born. She was tempted to tell him that she was not a baby--and that she did not like being viewed the same way.

"Hardly," she said pertly. "The drive only confirmed to me that Mr Gatley is as conceited and blind to his own faults as Mr Collins."

She derived some satisfaction from seeing the indulgent expression disappear. But the satisfaction was short lasting. Even as she spoke, she was conscious that she was being very unfair to Mr MONICA FAIRVIEW

Gatley. One could not compare the two men at all. But having made the statement, she prepared herself to defend it.

"Do you not think that is a little harsh?" said Elizabeth, blinking at the look of defiance Georgiana sent her brother.

Darcy put down his fork and wiped his mouth. This, she knew, was a prelude to a dressing-down, and she had no intention of hearing one tonight.

"I hope you will excuse me," she said, scraping her chair against the floor as she rose, and effectively interrupting as her brother started to speak. "I have a little headache. I think I will retire early."

"Yes, of course," said Elizabeth good-naturedly. "A good night's sleep is the best cure for the headache."

"Very wise words," muttered Georgiana, as she strode past,

"though how I could be expected to get to sleep when I have a headache, I am sure I do not know."

Elizabeth gave no sign of having heard, but Darcy seized a corner of Georgiana's paisley shawl as she passed him.

"You will apologise to Elizabeth, Georgiana. She meant well by her comment, and you answered rudely."

Georgiana left the shawl in her brother's hand and continued on her way. She reached her chamber and threw herself on the bed.

It was always about Elizabeth, was it not? Or about the squawking child upstairs, she added mentally as high-pitched squeals reached her from the nursery, even through the closed door. It was always about them.

And to think she was glad when her brother married! To think that at one time she could never have imagined leaving home. She used to think she would never marry. That she would stay with Darcy, and run the house for him, and be perfectly contented with 190

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her music and the garden and the humdrum everyday activities that made up her life.

Now she felt so hemmed in--so constricted--she could hardly wait to leave.

And this was where the reality of her situation chaffed at her even more. For if she wanted to leave--which she did, urgently at this point--there was only one way open to her and that was marriage. Unless she, like Anne, simply disappeared. For a moment she toyed with the idea. How much more comfortable it would be to live one's life away from the prying eyes of society, in complete obscurity, free of the constant interference of one's relations.

But then common sense came to the fore. It was nonsense, of course, to envy Anne. They knew nothing about her fate. For all they knew, she was married by now, forced into it by some ruthless villain who had abducted her by force. Or perhaps she had been so desperate to escape her mother that she had run straight into the clutches of a debauched fortune hunter. As always when she thought of Anne, a sharp jab of guilt pierced through her. If only she and Clarissa had not encouraged her to walk out alone! And if only they knew what had happened to her.

She was not so very desperate. She would not make that mistake.

She had had a brush with it--had been almost tempted--but then she had been only fifteen, and even then she had hesitated, at least enough to confide the scheme to her brother. Besides, she could not compare her home to Rosings, however much she may dislike the changes that had occurred since her brother's marriage.

Besides, she would have to leave soon enough. For that was what the Season was about, was it not? About finding an acceptable gentleman, marrying, and setting up her own establishment?

About starting a new life with a stranger?

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The truth was, Georgiana could not make up her mind whether she looked forward to the possibility, or whether she really hated it.

One of the advantages of youth is that one thinks nothing of a disagreement, however unpleasant it may have been at the time. By the morning, Georgiana, with that ability to put the disagreeable behind her, hardly remembered her brief flare of temper from the night before. But if she had expected the storm to blow over by itself, she was very much mistaken. The moment she reached the breakfast room, a maid brought her the message that her brother was awaiting for her in the library.

She sighed, and, aware of the confrontation to come, she took as much time over breakfast as she could. She considered ignoring the summons. But what good would that do? It was bound to happen sooner or later.

She entered the book room and found him seated behind the great mahogany desk, looking very much the head of the Darcy family. His brows were drawn in thick lines over his eyes, his mouth tightened into thin disapproval. At first she was struck by apprehension. Her brother had never dealt with her in this manner before. She quaked under the severity of his glance.

But then she rallied forces. Why should her brother make her quake? She was no longer a child, to be afraid of his opinion. If he was to stop thinking of her as a child, she would have to stand her ground, perhaps even counter his attack with one of her own.

She prepared herself for battle.

When he finally spoke, however, his words completely disarmed her.

"Georgie," he said, using his term of good-humoured affection 192

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for her, his expression softening. "I have the distinct impression that you are not as happy and as carefree as you used to be. I know that making the transition into adulthood is not easy. And without a father or a mother to guide you, it must be doubly so.

You must especially feel the lack of a mother. As a brother who is more than ten years older than you, I can hardly expect to be the recipient of confidences--quite the opposite, I suppose--but I would be honoured if you could confide in me and tell me what is troubling you."

Georgiana almost ran to him and threw herself into his arms.

But, an iron force--not fully her own--interceded, and she controlled the impulse. It would hardly serve the purpose, to run to him like a child.

He waited long enough to ensure that she was not planning to take the opportunity he had offered.

"You may as well sit," he said with a sigh. "This will take some time."

She took a seat, as far away from the desk as possible.

Having told her to sit, he stood up himself and walked to the window.

"I can guess part of the reason for your unhappiness. For years you have had me to yourself. Since our father's death when you were ten, I was not only your brother, but father, mother, and sister to you too--an impossible task, as you can imagine, particularly for a young man only twenty at that time. I did not spend as much time as I ought with you perhaps--for I too had my life to live--but when I was with you, you could be sure of my undivided attention.

Now, however, you have not only one but two other persons who share my affection."

He paused to give her a chance to speak, but she said nothing.

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"At first, you were happy to receive Elizabeth into our midst, and you saw her as a welcome sister. But now, as I form my own family, you fear that you will be excluded."

This was so close to the truth that Georgiana wanted to cry out that it was true. She was an intruder in this happy household, where she no longer felt she belonged.

But again, that iron force prevented her, reminding her that she was an adult now and that she should depend on no one.

"I am sure that you need no reassurance that you occupy the same place in my heart as you always have. But my duty now extends to my wife and my child as well. That is not something that will change."

Georgiana forced herself to remain distant. She would not respond. She would not complain. She needed to remain strong.

"You must find your own peace in the situation. I cannot help you find it, though I know that eventually you will. In any case, you will soon have a family of your own to care for. That is the purpose of bringing you to London, is it not?" He paused. The words lingered between them, part of the new barrier that had sprung up when before there was none.

Darcy waited for her to say something. She did not know what he expected of her. To plead with him perhaps? Well, she had no intention of doing so.

When it was clear he would receive no answer, his expression turned stern again.

"Meanwhile, however, you are still a member of this household, and as such, I insist that you treat Elizabeth with every respect due to my wife, for I will not tolerate any slights to her."

If Georgiana's heart had begun to soften at the earlier part of her brother's speech, his unequivocal manner now hardened it 194

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completely. She took exception to his words, all the more since she had done nothing seriously disrespectful. She had just muttered a few words, nothing more. She had thought her brother's protectiveness towards his wife in other instances amusing, but when it was directed against her! His words stung more than she could have thought.

"Elizabeth shall have my respect, as you have it as well," she replied.

"But remember that, though you may force me to give Elizabeth the respect she craves so much, you cannot force me to like her."

And with that, she turned her back on her brother and strode out of the room.

Needless to say, the encounter with her brother provoked in her an urgent need to leave the house. Without a word to either Darcy or Elizabeth, she called for the carriage.

Her destination was Grosvenor Square. It was only there, she was convinced, that she could find the understanding she craved.

She thanked the lucky fate that had brought her cousin to England.

Who would she have talked to otherwise?

She arrived to find her cousin's household still awaking. Forced to kick her heels downstairs as she waited for Clarissa to drink her chocolate and dress, she squirmed with impatience. After that, she had to partake of breakfast, for Clarissa refused to go out without eating, and she was compelled to make polite conversation with Caroline, who was blissfully unaware of the depth of turmoil she was going through.

It seemed like several excruciating hours before they were finally able to set out, with the excuse of needing to make some small purchases.

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"Now we can be very snug, and you shall tell me what has happened to make your face as long as a lamppost," said Clarissa when the carriage started moving.

Georgiana, who had held back everything for the longest time imaginable, immediately poured the whole sorry tale into her friend's ears.

But instead of the understanding she expected, Clarissa was more inclined to dismiss the whole matter offhand.

"Too much is being made out of nothing," said Clarissa at the end of the story. "'Tis but a tiny storm in a tiny teacup."

Georgiana frowned deeply at her cousin.

"Do not fly into a rage at me, Miss Darcy," said Clarissa, laughing. "You can have no quarrel with me. I will admit that, having grown up elsewhere, I do not fully understand all the rules of behaviour that are so important here. Why even yesterday Caroline--who has been such a help to me--pointed out that driving with Channing alone in the Park could be tantamount to a declaration of engagement and advised me to call off the drive. Is that not the drollest thing?"