Georgiana said timidly, “You are not angry that I spoke to her? Or that we put up greenery, even after I said I wanted nothing to remind me of Christmas? Helena - I mean, Miss Bennet says that the greens are a reminder that spring will come again, no matter how dark and cold it is now.” She hesitated. “It was not all about dunking gentlemen in pig dung.”
“On the contrary, I am delighted you found Miss Elizabeth. I will go so far as to agree with her, that there are some men who would benefit greatly from having a much closer acquaintance with pig dung.”
Elizabeth gave him a sly look. “Though I daresay you might avoid saying so in public, and to a complete stranger.”
“Perhaps so,” he acknowledged, “but if I recall my Shakespeare, Helena and Hermia were dear friends of many years standing, not strangers at all.”
“There you have it. We were just staying in character, were we not, dearest Hermia?”
Georgiana moved for the first time, coming forward to link her arm with Elizabeth's. “You are right, my old friend Helena.” And once again, she laughed. “Pray, Brother, may Miss Bennet stay for refreshments? Mrs. Hudson is making tea.”
“I would be honored to have her company.” And if Georgiana actually ate a bite of the various delicacies the cook provided to tempt her absent appetite, Darcy might get down on his knees and beg Elizabeth to join them for every single meal. If he could get over his jealousy that his sister had the right to touch Elizabeth when he did not.
“Then I will be glad to remain, if only to further the discussion of the relative merit of pig slops, cow dung, and middens as suitable punishment. I feel I have a great deal to learn on this subject.” And her eyes danced again.
“Oh, I simply cannot decide! Which is your favorite, dearest Hermia?” Elizabeth asked Miss Darcy over the tea tray. “Pray, will you not take a taste of these two and let me know which I should choose?” It was not something she would normally say,but given the girl's nearly skeletal appearance, the presence of no less than three cakes on a simple tea tray, and the cook's earlier look of shock and delight when Miss Darcy had requested it, it seemed some encouragement was in order. She had seen people in a decline before.
“Oh, I am certain they are all good,” Miss Darcy said hesitantly.
“And you have no appetite, I imagine. Nor do I, to be honest, after my great disappointment. But I refuse to let the cad who deceived me make me ill as well, so I am going to eat this cake to spite him, even if it tastes bad in my mouth. In fact, I think I will taketwoslices, just to show him how little he matters to me.” She could not believe she was airing her own disappointment in front of Mr. Darcy, of all people. At least he could not possibly guess that she was speaking of his steward's son, the one who had been so freely maligning him.
Though perhaps she should rethink the accusations Mr. Wickham had made against Mr. Darcy, given all the other lies he had told. The idea made her squirm inside. How could she have been so gullible? Even that awful Caroline Bingley had warned her against Mr. Wickham, and she had deliberately closed her ears to it.
Well, a tiny bit of good might come out of her humiliation if she could use it to strengthen this poor, suffering girl.
Darcy was watching her with a grave expression. “In a spirit of moral support, I will match your two pieces of cake. I would like one of both the almond and the plum cake, Georgiana, if you please.”
Georgiana giggled. “That is only because you adore cake.”
“Shh. You are giving away my secrets.”
Elizabeth tried not to gape. This was a side of Mr. Darcy she had never seen before. Did his sister bring out the best in him?
There might be more to him than she had thought.
Chapter 3
Elizabethrosetoherfeet. “It will be dark soon, so truly I must go now. My aunt and uncle from London have no doubt already arrived and will be wondering where I am.” Hopefully that good reason would forestall Miss Darcy's pleas for her to remain just a little longer. She needed to nurse her pain over Mr. Wickham's perfidy in private, and she was reaching the end of her tolerance for polite company. And then there was the constant stress of wondering what Mr. Darcy was truly thinking of her - and what part he played in convincing Mr. Bingley to leave Netherfield and her dear sister Jane.
“Oh, I hope you will call again!” Miss Darcy exclaimed, with a glance at her brother. “I would be so glad of it.”
“Indeed, Miss Elizabeth. I know it must be hard to get away during Christmas, but we would be pleased to see you.”
Was he saying that on his own behalf, or simply because she had entertained his sister? It did not matter, after all. The Darcys were only here until Twelfth Night, and then she would never see either of them again. The idea gave her a surprising pang.
“I will do my best. And I promise to keep your presence a complete secret.”
Darcy came to stand beside her. “Would you do me the honor of permitting me to accompany you on your walk? As you say, the light is fading.”
“It is three miles entire to Longbourn, sir, and it would be full dark long before you are back.” And she needed the time alone to recover from this strange day.
He smiled. “I will take a lantern.”
“Oh, look!” the girl cried, pointing at the ceiling above their head. “You are under the mistletoe!” She sounded delighted.
Mr. Darcy looked startled, but then a slow smile spread over his countenance. “So we are.” No doubt he was making the best of it to please his sister. Elizabeth must be the last woman in the world he would want to find under the mistletoe.
Hastily she said, “I must warn you this is the magic mistletoe of Netherfield. It is unusually potent and should only be used with caution.” Not that even Netherfield mistletoe could create a courtship between the proud Mr. Darcy and her!
