The Darcy Cousins (42 page)

Well, done was done. The horses were thundering their way back, and his decision was made. He could not turn back again now.

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Chapter 29

Gatley spent the worst night of his life at The Red Lion. Not that there was anything wrong with the inn itself. As inns went, it was one of the better ones. But some mischievous sprite had stuffed his mattress with small sharp pebbles. He was quite sure of it. Though he could not for the life of him locate any of them.

He battled with the bed, which seemed to sink under him in all the wrong places and protrude in all the rest. He battled with the sheets, which had a will of their own. They slipped and slid away from him just when he was finally ready to drift off. And he battled with the fiends that told him he had to go back and seemed determined to pull him out of bed, right in the middle of the night, and force him to ride back to Hunsford, for what reason he could not imagine.

In the end, he told the fiends he would do what they wanted, just to silence them. By that time it was dawn, and, in that way fiends have of disappearing at the wrong moment, they slipped away, and he tumbled headlong into a deep sleep.

When he awoke, he realised immediately that it was very late.

Some time last night, as he made his plans, he had decided that he was going to arrive early at Ansdell Manor, just after breakfast, and MONICA FAIRVIEW

that he would ask Miss Darcy to join him in the garden, and he would have an earnest discussion with her.

He had no idea what he wished to say. He only knew he had to talk to her. It was his conscience, surely, that was keeping him awake. He had been much too candid in expressing his opinion, and he had not been nice--not at all. He owed it to himself, at the very least, to clear his conscience. Even if she was in the wrong. After all, she had helped him after the accident, according to Oskins, and had stayed with him, risking her brother's disapproval. She could always have left the inn and returned home, with no one any wiser about the whole thing. He owed her something for that. Yet he had not even thanked her. He would stop and get her some flowers along the way, and he would tell her that he should not have spoken to her that way, and everything would be resolved. He could then go his own way, without being pursued by fiends.

By the time he woke up, however, breakfast was long gone. The sun was already slanting towards the West, an ominous sign.

He dressed as quickly as his valet would allow and went downstairs to find the coachman. He was not looking forward to telling him that they would be driving back to Ansdell.

Oskins said nothing to him, of course, though Gatley was sure he had plenty to say to the others.

Half an hour later, when it seemed like they were positively crawling through the country, he leaned his head out and asked the coachman to put some life into the horses.

The wind blowing towards him brought him the sound of disgruntled curses, ending in Oskins' assessment of his master, which reached him very clearly.

"Love struck, that's what 'e is, the besotted fool. God help 'im!"

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Gatley leaned back in his seat and considered this statement very, very seriously, all the way until they reached his country manor.

Georgiana, who had withdrawn from company, preferring to be alone in the parlour, played the piano all morning. She played loudly and with emphasis, and in a heavy, grim manner.

Elizabeth had been trying her best to ignore the wincing and the pained expressions on both Mrs Gatley's and Clarissa's faces, but as the relentless clamour continued on and on, she was forced finally to intervene.

"Georgiana is usually a very delicate player," she said, almost in apology, as she rose.

"She is playing with the delicacy of an elephant," remarked Clarissa.

"I think I need to talk to her," she said, and headed for the small parlour.

"You must not think I do not appreciate your playing, Georgiana," she said, pausing in the doorway. "But must you attack the piano so vigorously? We shall all be rendered quite deaf if this continues much longer. We can hear you quite emphatically from the saloon."

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I did not realise everyone could hear me,"

said Georgiana, stopping immediately. "I did not mean to be quite so loud. I was not really paying attention to what I was doing."

She shuffled her music around and struck the notes of a pianis-simo piece. But she had scarcely played more than a few bars before the volume rose to in a crescendo.

"I cannot help it," she said. "My fingers are too heavy." She rose from the bench and walked across the room to the window.

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"Do you ever feel as if nothing will ever satisfy you?"

Elizabeth, seeing an opportunity to question Georgiana about her moodiness, sat down and replied with interest.

"I often feel that nothing will satisfy me. I will pick up a book, expecting to find enjoyment in the pages, then find it does not live up to my expectations. Then I will go to the theatre, to view some piece everyone is raving about, and find it is of little interest at all."

Georgiana was not listening.

"I suspect you mean something entirely different," said Elizabeth, hoping to encourage Georgiana to speak.

Her hopes of receiving a disclosure were not to be satisfied, for the words fell upon thin air and disappeared.

When more circumspect measures fail, one can always turn to direct questioning.

"Georgiana, is there something troubling you?"

Her question sounded lame even to her own ears. But having brought the proverbial cat out of the bag, she persevered. "I could not help but notice that you are not as cheerful as usual."

If anything, this statement was surely even lamer than the other, which at least had the virtue of being direct. But Georgiana's continued silence unnerved her.

Georgiana was on the verge of saying something, when a footman brought in a letter for her on a silver salver.

Georgiana, surprised that anyone would know where to address the letter, opened it quickly. It was from Anne.

Dear Georgiana,

Clarissa has written to me to reveal the unfortunate consequences of your visit. I am sorry to hear that I have been the cause of so much unhappiness. I would not in 386

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the world wish to come between you and someone who is important to you. You must reveal the reason for your visit to Richmond to Mr G-. I know of his reputation in Kent, and I believe him to be a trustworthy, honourable gentleman, so I do not hesitate to entrust him with my secret. Only do not let him speak about it to anyone else.

You understand, of course, the continued need for secrecy.

I hope that you will be vigilant always. My sincerest wishes for your future happiness,

Annabelle Williams

"Excuse me," said Georgiana, to Elizabeth. "I must speak to Clarissa."

Georgiana stalked down to the saloon. Controlling herself with an effort, she asked Mrs Gatley if she could steal Clarissa from her for a few minutes.

"Certainly," said Mrs Gatley. "The weather is very fine. Why do you not go for a long walk?"

Georgiana had only enough patience to wait until the door of the Manor had closed behind them. Then she whipped round and stopped Clarissa in her tracks.

"You wrote to Anne?" said Georgiana. "Without even consulting me? And you told her--what exactly did you tell her?"

"I told her that you had quarrelled with Mr Gatley--I did not reveal his name, I am not such a dunce as all that--because you had to conceal the reason for the trip from him and that the only way to repair the damage was for you to tell him the truth."

"Anne knew you were speaking of Mr Gatley. Oh, Clarissa, it 387

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was not well done of you at all." She began to walk again, in long quick stride, forcing Clarissa almost to run to catch up with her.

"You know, you resemble your brother when you look like that, all stern and virtuous. Come, Georgiana. You do realise what this means. You may now explain the circumstances to Mr Gatley, and all will be well."

"Really?" said Georgiana, stopping abruptly. "And how do you propose that I do so? Shall I write him a letter and have him condemn me for that? Or shall we find some excuse to go to visit him in London?" She set out again.

Clarissa shook her head helplessly and followed. "There must be a way to reach him. You must explain the circumstances to him."

"Even if I could," said Georgiana, "which I cannot, I would not explain the circumstances. You do not understand the situation at all. It has nothing to do with telling him the truth."

"If you will not explain the circumstances to him," said Clarissa firmly, "then I shall find a way to do so."

"Stop! You have grasped the wrong end of the stick. My quarrel with Mr Gatley is about something else entirely, which is his willingness to think the worst of me at the slightest provocation and to believe that his moral superiority allows him to point out all my faults whenever he chooses. You misunderstand completely if you believe that such a situation can be salvaged simply by telling the truth about Anne. I have thought about the situation a great deal, and I realise that it cannot possibly be salvaged."

"But you love him."

"You know as well as I do that loving someone is not always the wisest of courses. Your Mr Parker is a case in point. No, I have begun to think that love and marriage are incompatible. I have determined that next Season, I will accept the hand of any young 388

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gentleman who is half-way agreeable and who wins the approval of both my brother and Elizabeth. They will be my guide."

"Phew! What nonsense is this? You cannot give up your dreams of happiness merely for a silly quarrel. If you do, then I will think you more ninny-headed than I imagined."

"Think of me whatever way you like," said Georgiana, rising and walking back to the house.

It was one of those days destined to produce surprises. Everyone was assembled in the saloon, partaking of afternoon tea, when the bell rang. It was the wrong time for regular calls, so all eyes turned to the doorway in expectation.

Mrs Moffet entered, carrying her embroidery set, from which threads dangled in disarray.

"Forgive me for calling so very early," she said. "I know it is not correct form, but I really could not wait. I knew you would want to know as soon as possible, so I have come over as quickly as I could to be sure that you were the first to know."

Mrs Gatley requested her to take a seat. Mrs Moffet sat down, and taking up her embroidery, tried to sort out the tangled thread.

In her agitated state, however, she only succeeded in tangling the threads further.

"Pray tell us the news, Mrs Moffet," said Mrs Gatley gently.

Mrs Moffet abandoned all pretence at embroidery and set everything aside. "You will think me bird brained, to become all excited about nothing at all, but there you are. I have come to tell you that Mr Channing has spoken to Mr Moffet and has requested Athena's hand in marriage. Mr Moffet had no objection--and why should he?--and so Athena accepted, and now they are engaged. I 389

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can scarcely believe it! My daughter to marry Mr Channing! Who would have thought it could happen? I am quite over the moon with happiness."

Georgiana, alarmed, looked over to Clarissa. Clarissa, however, gave no indication that anything was amiss, and so Georgiana was able--once her turn came--to wish Mrs Moffet her sincerest congratulations.

"I told you the name would bring her good fortune, did I not, Miss Darcy? Is it not fortunate I called her Athena? Do you see how things worked out for her? Was I not right?"

"You were, Mrs Moffet," said Georgiana, smiling warmly, the happiness in the proud mother's eyes proving quite contagious.

"I hope you will find happiness too, for you deserve it." She lowered her voice. "You must not think I am upset with you at all for turning my Odysseus down. He is still too young to think of marriage, and you would not have suited at all. I know the gentleman you've set your sights on, and I hope with all my heart that you get him. I wish you very well, my dear."

Georgiana's happiness dimmed, and tears came to her eyes. She turned away quickly, not wishing Mrs Moffet to see them.

In the midst of the confusion and effusions of Mrs Moffet's announcement, Georgiana signalled to Clarissa to join her, and they slipped through the French doors into the garden.

"I hope you are not upset by Mrs Moffet's announcement," said Georgiana to Clarissa.

"No, not at all. In fact, I was very relieved to hear it. I stayed up most of last night trying to reach a decision, but every time I thought I had resolved on something, I would come up with a 390

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reason not to do it. I thought I would drive myself to madness.

Thank goodness I no longer have to decide."

"But how could he do this," said Georgiana, "when you had not even given your answer?"

"It is as you said. It was not meant to be," she said. "He is not for me."

Georgiana laughed. "It was Mrs Moffet who said it, you know."

The two young women linked arms.

"I wonder what is to become of us," said Clarissa. "I would like so much to do something with my life. Not just to marry--though clearly that is something I wish for--but to accomplish something, to have a purpose."

"Well then you must find one, and then you must find someone who will help you fulfil it."

"That is easy enough to say but almost impossible to carry out."

"If there is anyone who could do it," said Georgiana, "then it must be you."

Clarissa grinned. "I suppose you are right. Though I must admit I did not quite achieve my purpose in helping you."

"Oh, that," said Georgiana. "I am glad you did not achieve your purpose, or it would have been my engagement that was being announced, not Miss Moffet's. Imagine me marrying Channing!"

It really was most incongruous. Georgiana could not imagine at all why she wanted to win Channing's attention so badly. She could only laugh at the thought.