Lord Matlock laughed, and he pressed his wife’s shoulder, “It is not going to happen. A little scandal never hurt anyone.”
“It certainly has.”
The only reply from Lady Matlock’s husband was an insouciant shrug.
“This is badly handled,” Lady Matlock said with thin lips. “You mean to have her with you at Pemberley, with the bastard child? You will force the neighborhood to acknowledge them?—Georgiana, can you not see the selfishness of your actions? The way that they will affect everyone. Why not simply marry Richard, and—”
“No, mother,” that officer replied. “Even if you browbeat Georgiana into it, I know my duty.”
“And I know my duty as well,” Darcy said. “If someone does not wish to be connected with me, I can do very well without their friendship or connection.”
“But you are the chief landowner in the area,” Lady Matlock said. “Youknowthat it is not such an easy matter for your neighbors.”
“That is a difficulty for those of my neighbors who wish to avoid me,” Darcy replied. “I am sorry for any difficulties that I will cause to others. However, this is what we shall do. It is not a matter of dispute. Your help or advice in how best to act on this policy would be appreciated, but thepolicy itself will not be changed. It is my duty to support Georgiana, and I will fulfil my duty as I see fit.”
Soon after Lady Matlock gave up the effort, she settled into talking to Elizabeth in a more generally friendly manner, sharing stories about the long connection of the Fitzwilliam family and the Darcy family—Lord Matlock’s grandmother had been a Darcy. There were tales of Christmas parties, of long summer visits from one house to the other, and of course, always, the insistence on doing what was appropriate to maintain the place of the family.
Georgiana went to the piano to play, encouraged by both Darcy and Elizabeth, and for a time the conversation fell silent to listen to her magnificently perform a piece from Herr Beethoven.
After she finished it, Georgiana blushed at the applause from her family and then asked Elizabeth to join her to sing while she played, and Darcy with a happy smile asked for a rendition ofRobin Adair, telling his relations as he did so that this had been the first song that she sang for him.
With a laugh Elizabeth said, “I sang it forEmily, to put her to sleep. It was theBluebells of Scotlandthat I sang forhim.”
“Yes, well, you must sing that as well, afterwards,” Darcy replied, without being at all upset by that reply.
Elizabeth looked at her husband with a warm glow in her heart as she began to sing for him.
Chapter Twenty Six
A few days after his uncle and the rest of the family left Pemberley, Darcy sat with Elizabeth in the drawing room in the evening. He was reading from a novel to the family, while Emily sat half on him, and half on Elizabeth, and George sprawled on the floor, stacking blocks into a very high tower.
Darcy always had a special warm glow when he sat next to Elizabeth. Somehow, day by day and week by week, he was falling more deeply in love with her.
He wished to touch and hold her constantly. There were so many little facets to her character that he was discovering, and he could talk to her forever.
After he finished the chapter, and the children were taken up to the nursery by Sally, Georgiana said, before they retired to bed, “Can I—might I speak with you both for a little?”
“Of course,” Darcy said with a warm smile. He and Elizabeth returned to the sofa.
When Georgiana did not immediately begin, Elizabeth gave her an encouraging smile, and said, “I am sure it is a very good idea.”
“Well, I do not know…you remember that I spoke about how I wish to do something useful. I have been thinking about this, about what I am good at.”
“You are skilled at a great many things,” Elizabeth said to her.
Georgiana flushed. “Yes, well, but you know, the accomplishments that they teach us, they are really mostly, I think, about preparation for marriage—music, and drawings, and painting screens, and knowing languages, I do not say they are useless, but I did not know—my playing is very good, but I could not imagine performing in any public place.”
“No, Jove.” Darcy cringed at the thought. He could imagine it. And he could imagine what everyone would say. “My sister in front of a crowd, in such a situation? No.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Darcy pride. I would think it a very admirable thing if you gave public concerts. And it would not be half so scandalous as the child or the duel. But you would not enjoy it, I think.”
“It would be half as scandalous,” Darcy replied. Then he began to feel rather foolish. “It is easy to forget, when new matters are brought forward, that I have determined to care nothing for appearances.”
Georgiana giggled. “I would be too terrified. It would not be pleasant. I only wish to play for those whom I love and know.”
“Well then,” Darcy said, “What is the thought that you had for being useful, since I guess you have some idea.”
“I, well—I do not deserve to be so fortunate. Even when I thought that I ought to be sent into exile, or made to marry an old widower, it was...not so bad.”
