“Yes, but it is in such a good proximity to London, while also being on the road towards where the rest of my family lives in the far north, that I cannot imaginenottaking it, not when I know that the neighborhood is very good—”
“How do you knowthat?” Elizabeth smiled at Bingley.
“It producedyou, so how could it be otherwise?”
“Flattery.” Elizabeth now looked at Darcy, and something in her eyes made his stomach leap. She said seriously looking at him, “You hardly say any nonsense to me.”
“I apologize, madam,” Darcy replied, “but I always wish for you to take each compliment I pay to you with the utmost seriousness.”
She smiled at him, warmly, with encouragement in her eyes.
Darcy’s mouth suddenly felt dry. “Believe me when I say this. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on.”
Her face went red. She flushed. She smiled. She looked down with the blush and then looked back up at him. “See, and now I cannot say that is nonsense, even though it is, foryoubelieve it.”
She bit her lip and seemed to glow.
“Very lucky man, Darcy,” Bingley said. “And under what circumstances did you two meet?”
“Uh, well,” Darcy began.
But then Bingley blushed, “Oh, yes. We all heard—ahem. That unpleasantness of a duel. Ahem, but—really, what was the case? I cannot believe those stories about Georgiana, and I know that you wouldn’t shoot a fellow because you wished to marry his wife—” Then Bingley looked at Elizabeth in an anxious way, as though seriously worried that his saying that may have offended her. “Though, I am certain that your beauty could inspire men to kill each other, but—”
Elizabeth laughed. “While I have doubts that my face could launch a thousand ships, I amcertainthat it cannot without being seen. It was only after that ‘unpleasantness’ that we met.”
“I am afraid,” Darcy said quietly and firmly, “that whatever you have heard about Georgiana is likely to be true. At least the truth is very serious, and likely to have permanent consequences.”
His initial instinct would have been to hide everything that could be hidden about the matter. But a man was dead. He thought that his sister was with child. He hated disguise in every form. And…appearances and how society thought of one, and everything of that sort just did not matter so very much.
The world could look at them as it would. If men despised him, he would at least not need to worry about them presenting as false friends.
Bingley glanced towards Georgiana, who sat on the other side of the room, paying all her attention to her embroidery she was engaged in, and none of it to Bingley’s sisters who spoke to each other, occasionally glancing either towards Elizabeth or towards Georgiana.
There was a pressing together of Bingley’s lips, and for half a moment Darcy feared that his friend would say something that would require that he end one of his dearest connections.
His sister was dearer.
But Bingley nodded. “Poor Georgiana—but what do you mean to do?” He glanced at his sisters. “However, I know that you at least will not discuss such private matters in this space.”
“No, but also I can honestly say that I do not yet know what we shall do.”
“Poor Georgiana,” Bingley exclaimed again.
Soon other guests came in the room to make their call and be introduced to Elizabeth, and shortly after that the time came for Bingley’s call to end, as he was reminded of at nearly the precise minute by his sisters. He departed after gaining an agreement from Darcy and Elizabeth to dine with him before they left London.
The collection of persons who came to make their fifteen- or twenty-minute visit made up a rather thin crowd. They were mostly persons like Bingley who he was on particular terms of friendship with. Darcy was not, however, surprised. Society must be uncertain about whether Elizabeth would be consideredgood tonor not.
He’d feared that it would be a great crush, like it seemed to be at the theater the previous night. Darcy supposed that making a morning call on a gentleman and his new wife was a more particular sign of intending to maintain a connection than dropping by to shake that gentleman’s hand during a play and just happening to become acquainted through that with his odd bride.
And of course there was Georgiana.
Darcy received oblique questions from many of his guests about her, about his plans for her, and it was clear that while men respectedhimfor having defended her honor by killing a man in a duel—most of his friends assumed that was the true story—this did not mean that his sister was not scandal touched.
Over time Darcy rather regretted Georgiana’s presence in the room.
She was uncomfortable, and both he and Elizabeth were too busy as hosts to work to make her more comfortable, and there were too many friends, whose connection was too distant, for Darcy to trust them to help his sister.
All the gentlemen were admiring of Elizabeth. She was so lovely and beautiful, and so perfectly warm, bright, engaging and yet polite with his guests that no one could wonder why he had attached himself to her.
