Darcy rubbed his chin. Georgiana’s blue eyes were downcast. She awkwardly smoothed out the sleeve of her dress again and again.
She wanted to go. She would receive some rudeness. But it likely would go no further than refused introductions. Bingley was the largest landowner in the region and his father-in-law was, from what Darcy understood, the second.
Georgiana would like to watch the ball, even if she could not participate in it. And she would at least be able to dance with himself and Bingley. Every opportunity to enjoy a season and the entertainments young girls fantasize about had been cruelly held distant from her. Every woman, Darcy had been made to understand, thought a ball was a wonderful thing.
“Well, if you are sure it shall not cause a scandal.” Darcy sighed, fearing this was an error. “We shall attend tomorrow.”
Georgiana’s worried smile at Darcy’s pronouncement was almost painful.
Mrs. Bingley clapped her hands. “Now you need something perfect to wear, Georgie.”
Chapter Three
Elizabeth Bennet whistled as she completed her morning walk. Fine brisk day, without the real cold of winter, yet having something of stark beauty. She walked through the little shrubbery behind the front entrance of Longbourn and up to a backdoor which opened into her father’s study. She quickly opened and shut the door. A cold gust of wind followed her, shifting the papers upon Papa’s desk.
“Pray, shut that door, dear.” Papa shivered theatrically and smiled her. “The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.”
Elizabeth laughed at the line from Hamlet. “It is a nipping and an eager air?”
“What hour now?”
“I think it lacks of twelve — by most of the day — you are the one with the clock in your room.”
“Come sit here.” Papa gestured at her chair. “You were supposed to let me say ‘No, it is struck.’”
“The clock struck twelve? Indeed I heard it not… uhhh… the season wherein the spirit walks.”
“You have forgotten your Shakespeare.” Papa laughed good naturedly. “But sit here. Help me with these figures — I made some mistake adding the accounts.”
Elizabeth laid a friendly kiss on her father’s forehead right beneath the wool cap he wore for warmth. She laughed when he recoiled.
“Your lips are frozen, Lizzy. You may love winter walks, but I prefer to be warm.”
Papa then pulled her head down so he could kiss her cheek.
Elizabeth settled into the brown leather chair which always sat next to her father’s chair for her use, and she pulled in front of her the account book he’d been looking through, and the paper to the side where he’d attempted to add up the entries for the last month in pencil.
Papa looked at her with the pleased smile he always had when they were together. His eyes were bright and alert, and his dark grey sideburns bristled several inches out from the sides of his face. He wore a thick red cap that had been tipped back by Elizabeth exposing the front of his bald area. His hands were encased in a pair of gray wool half gloves that left his fingers free to easily manipulate the quill, but kept his hands somewhat warm.
While the air in the room was hot in comparison to the freezing outdoors, Papa had kept his room chilled so far this winter. It was a small economy to save on coal that he had adopted when the crash following the end of the war reduced their rents substantially only a few months after the fund Mr. Bennet had set aside for his daughter’s dowries had been depleted by Kitty’s marriage. There still was a substantial amount set aside for Elizabeth, which Mr. Bennet intended to grow once more, but it was insufficient to be really comfortable upon.
“You completely missed this purchase of feedstock for the horses — and the purchase of the new grey to replace Molly when she died. Also, when you added up the income, you incorrectly added the value of Mr. Green’s rent.” Elizabeth took a bite of a juicy apple from a bowl Mr. Bennet kept on his desk, so he would not need to interrupt his studies by calling for a servant if he grew hungry before dinner. “There. Correct now.”
Papa grinned at her, pulling the account book back towards himself. “What would I do without you?”
“Hire a steward.”
As Papa looked at the figures himself again, muttering quietly as his finger jumped from number to number, Elizabeth looked back out the window again. Today was beautiful, gray, overcast; the bare sticks of trees looked sharp in the pale sunlight, and the background of clouds promised rain or flurries of snow. In places little dustings of snow from yesterday’s surprisingly early winter snow remained unmelted.
Elizabeth never complained about the weather. There was so much beauty in it.
And she was returned to her favorite place in the world: Papa's study while Papa was also there.
“Very, good. Very good.” Papa now wrote the final sums into the big account book, and blotted the ink before closing the accounts. “Your walk? Did you call upon anyone?”
“I speak too often on the delights of leafless trees and cold air for you to wish to listen to me enthuse aboutthat.” Elizabeth frowned, rather displeased by what she had learned. “The Lucases told me the committee which manages the assemblies, you know — Lady Lucas, Mama, Mrs. Long, Mrs. Goulding — they absolutely will not allow Jane’s female guest to be admitted to the rooms tonight. Sir Lucas had set off a bare quarter of an hour before I called to inform Bingley, Jane and the Darcys.”
“Poor girl. To be given the cut direct by the whole of the neighborhood at the first expedient date after her arrival.” Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows. “Mrs. Bennet told me nothing of the matter—"
