The Road to Pemberley (45 page)

“Georgiana, you are not hard of hearing. Go find something useful to do; we have important business to discuss.”

Finally my brother rises and manages to stammer, “Lady Catherine, it is a pleasure to see you here.”

“Mr. Darcy, I have had quite enough cheek for one day,” warns my aunt, and then she turns back to me. “Georgiana, I will not repeat myself.”

After a confused pause, Fitzwilliam tilts his head to me. “Georgiana, perhaps you should go.”

I purse my lips and glare at him and plan to quiz him later. With a significant look of displeasure at both of them, I rise to leave the room.

To my surprise, Mrs. Edstrom is standing there with a drinking glass. She hands it to me, and I take it.

“Whatever is this for?” I ask, wondering if the world has gone suddenly mad.

She says nothing, but takes the glass from my hand. She steps left of the drawing room door and places the rim of the glass against the wall and presses her ear to the bottom of it. Then she hands it back to me. Curious, I copy her and hear my aunt say, “…speak with your sister about her growing impertinence. I have read her letters to Anne...”

I smile at Mrs. Edstrom in thanks and turn back to the wall as she walks away, intently listening.

“What is the purpose of your visit, Madam?” He sounds impatient.

“What is the nature of your relationship to Miss Elizabeth Bennet? I demand a straightforward answer.”

“I am acquainted with Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and have been for about a year. Why do you ask?”

“And have you made Miss Bennet an offer of marriage?”

My brother says nothing for a moment; I am nervous for him. “What has you asking these peculiar questions, Lady Catherine?”

“I will tell you,” she snaps, and I can hear her cane tapping on the floor as she paces. I imagine her circling my brother as a vulture does his prey. “On Thursday evening Mr. Collins paid me a visit. He was very alarmed and knew that I would be, and when you know the reason for it, I hope you too shall be alarmed. Mr. Collins informed me that your friend—that Bingley fellow—is lately engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet's sister. He lamented, as he should, for your friend; I hope you know that his choice is not a wise one.”

She pauses here, and I assume she is waiting for my brother to agree. He does not; she continues. “He then informed me of a particular report currently circulating in Hertfordshire which concerns you.”

“And of what does the report consist, Madam?”

“It is said that you will soon be, if you are not already, engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Although I know this to be impossible, we must now formalize your engagement to my daughter. I will not have these rumors flying about and upsetting my Anne every time you smile at a young lady.”

“I do not smile at young ladies, Madam.” Fitzwilliam's tone is dark; he is clearly upset.

“Nevertheless, these things cannot be allowed to get out of control, Darcy. I have already secured the young lady's assurances that the report is false, and there is no more reason to delay the engagement.”

I wonder where the rumor came from as I wait for my brother's reply. He is quiet for an uncommonly long time. He coughs. “You have...
her
assurances that she is not engaged to me?”

“That is what I said.”

“And how came you by this information?”

“From the lady herself, of course,” she replies, nettled.

“You visited Miss Bennet?”

“I did. She was impertinent and willful and I was too long in her company.”

“What did she say?” Here my brother's voice is slightly raised in pitch; he is nervous.

My
brother
is
nervous
.

“If you must have the narrative, I will give it to you,” she snaps, and the cane begins tapping again. “I arrived at Longbourn this morning and was greeted only by silence and open-mouthed stares.” This, of course, is a clear indication that she was exceedingly rude. I am not surprised. “I applied to Miss Bennet to walk out with me, which she did reluctantly. I came directly to my point, as I always do, by demanding that she contradict the report which I received from Mr. Collins two days ago. She pretended not to know of it and then informed me that she may choose not to answer some of my questions, if she did not like it. She had to be consistently reminded of my superior consequence. She paid no mind to my position. It was outrageous! That girl is headstrong, conniving, and foolish, and Darcy, if you do not take care, she will ruin you!”

Fitzwilliam coughs. “Did you happen to mention your desire for Anne to marry me?” asks my brother, with that nervous pitch in his voice.

“I did. For my part I explained too much—she ought to have accepted my wishes and made the promise which I asked of her.”

A pause. “Promise, Madam? What did you ask of her?”

My aunt snorts. “Of course I asked for her word that she would never enter into an engagement with you,” she replies. “She would not give it, though if she did I doubt that I could trust it. She is perfectly
obstinate. I do not want Georgiana in her company, Darcy, if you should choose to visit Mr. Bingley and his unfortunate new family after he is married.”

“She would not promise?”

“No, she would not. You see how serious this situation is. Therefore, I must demand—”

“I thank you, Lady Catherine,” says my brother hurriedly, “for bringing this to my attention. As it happens, I shall be in Hertfordshire this Tuesday morning. I shall do whatever is in my power to settle these matters while I am there.”

There are footsteps heading toward the door, so I am forced to dash for the kitchen while Fitzwilliam shows Lady Catherine out. When I am certain she has gone, I search for him again. He is pacing in the drawing room.

“Fitzwilliam?”

He turns at my entrance and rushes toward me, taking my upper arms. His eyes are wild with nervousness and excitement. “She did not promise she would not marry me.”

I try to feign ignorance. “Who did not promise?”

“Georgiana, I know you were listening,” he admonishes with a silly kind of smirk. “I am speaking of Miss Bennet, of course!”

I blush and bite my lip. “You are not upset that I was listening?”

“No,” he replies, “I am too anxious to be concerned about what you are doing.”

I laugh at him. “Fitzwilliam, I told you!” I declare, laying my hand against his cheek. “I told you that you must hope, and now you see that there is
reason
to hope.”

He looks earnestly into my eyes, and his soften. “I thought I
did
hope, Georgiana,” he says quietly. “She would not give her promise to Lady Catherine never to marry me; if she had decided totally against me, she would have issued what Lady Catherine asked for.”

“What are you going to do?” I ask, smiling.

“I will join Bingley again at Netherfield, as I had planned. I will leave on Monday and be in Longbourn by Tuesday morning. From there, I cannot say what I will do. It depends upon Miss Elizabeth.”

I smile and happily kiss his cheek, leaving him to prepare for his journey and extracting a promise for a letter with any news as soon as it occurs.

On Friday, after much patient waiting on my part, I receive a letter from my dear brother, dated the previous Wednesday.

My heart races at the anticipation that I might hear good news relating to Miss Elizabeth; I jump up and smile.

Miss Jane Bennet—

Oh! That teasing man! He will be punished.

—is, according to her mother, quite the prettiest of all her daughters—no mean feat, I assure you, for she has five of them. Bingley must agree with her; I must not. But I am sure you shall like Jane very much, and I have fixed it so that you and Mrs. Annesley may travel to Netherfield to meet her, some two weeks before the wedding, and stay through a month, and perhaps you might like it better to stay at Longbourn after the wedding. It is not a very large house, but I am assured that there would be room for you—Mrs. Bennet has a few guest rooms, which might be used by the Gardiners; however, if that be the case, Miss Bennet's room will no longer be in use, and Mrs. Annesley could stay there. You, of course, would stay in Miss Elizabeth's room. She will be traveling to London, and as I am going with her, there will be no need for the Bennets to accommodate me.

I pause. I go over my brother's cryptic lines to be sure of what I have read. There is only one reason—one reason which supposes proper behavior—that my brother would travel with Miss Bennet to London, quite by themselves, and that would be that they were married.

Oh! Married!

I jump up again, smiling, and I read on:

I am sorry, my dear girl, that you are not with me at such a time as this. I should very much like to share my joy with you. I could not help teasing you—Miss Elizabeth's tendencies to do so must be contagious. As you are likely the sole member of my family
very much pleased by my choice, your support will be missed when I receive replies from my uncle and aunt.

“Miss Darcy,” interrupts Mrs. Annesley, “what has your brother to say that has gotten you so excited?”

I spin around. “Oh! It is such wonderful news. My brother is getting married!”

She declares her joy at this information. “To whom shall he be wed? I hope not to his cousin,” she teases, knowing the answer full well. “She must be a great lady to have secured his affection.”

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” I reply, impatiently reading through the rest of my letter. When I am done, I put it in my lap. “She is from Hertfordshire. She visited us in Derbyshire this August, when we were there with Mr. Bingley and his sisters.”

“I remember Miss Bennet and her aunt and uncle,” replies my good companion. “More particularly I recall the way Miss Bingley glared at her.”

“Miss Bingley will not take this news well,” I say, wondering whether I should laugh or be concerned. Her hopes were all in vain from the very start, after all...but nonetheless, I think she might be hurt.

“Everything happens for a reason, Miss Darcy,” says Mrs. Annesley. “This might be an eye-opening experience for Miss Bingley. Perhaps she might learn that the charms she possesses, which she assumed would attract your brother, have no real merit.”

I think it more likely that she will learn to be bitter, but keep my opinion to myself. “But my brother is a particular kind of man,” I say cautiously. “Don't you agree? He is not like other men. I am sure I have not met any quite so generous or kind, or genuine and artless.”

Mrs. Annesley laughs at me. “Georgiana, dear, he is your
brother
. Of course you think so well of him. And I might remind you that
you are not yet out, and the list of young men with whom you are acquainted can be counted out on one hand and half are your own relations.”

I smile and turn pink—she is right, of course. “But you must at least agree that a full quarter of them are rakes,” I counter.

She laughs again. “Yes, a full quarter.” She shakes her head and gazes at me, and I can see a little affection in her eyes. “One man, Georgiana.
One man.
Do not give him another thought; he is not worth it.”

I smile at her. “No, he is not.” I look back at my happy letter. “Married!” I shake it in the air. “Not to Putrid Anne. Not to Caroline the Peacock. To someone he loves.” I sit and read it again, and sigh when I am done. Mrs. Annesley is laughing at me still.