Elizabeth’s wry chuckle held no resentment. “I am no simpleton. I recognized long ago that the dowries he settled on the Bennet daughters secured my place. They had very little before that, and now they can each afford to look for some affection in marriage.” She eyed me askance. “Mama—that is, Mrs. Bennet—made her advantages plain when I first arrived. But truly, over time, she has accepted me as one of her own, as have my sisters. All in all, it has been a good life with the Bennets. But I confess, I never quite forgot dear George.” She glanced up, a bashful flush staining her cheeks. “Silly, I suppose, after so many years.”
I regarded her steadily. “George made quite an impression when you were younger, I see.”
She gave a small shrug, not meeting my eyes. “He was always sweet and merry and ever the one to touch my heart where no one else could. And it is still so.” She risked an upward glance. “You do not… disapprove, I hope?”
I hesitated, questions swirling. Had George’s behavior during their recent reunion reignited tender hopes? Carefully, I asked, “Has he given you any reason to believe such admiration would now be returned?”
Elizabeth tilted her chin defiantly. “I should say that his words and manner convey deepest regard, I am sure of it. I know he would not trifle with me.”
“Indeed.” I mastered my outrage, fists clenching at my sides. That reprehensible flirt! I would not stand idly by while George dallied and raised expectations where he had no intentions. And it was not only his childhood playmate’s heart he toyed with, but Lady Lucilla’s as well! And, heaven strike me dead for saying it, but the consequences of breaking Lady Lucilla’s heart were staggeringly worse than if he dallied with Elizabeth’s.
But I dare not distress Elizabeth with accusations against her glowing assumptions. She would not even credit it, if I told her that he had already led her astray. The confession must come from George’s own lips. So, I must deal with errant George in my own way.
I offered her my arm, rage tightly leashed. “Shall I return you safely home?” Escorting her outside, I vowed George would soon feel the sting of my unrestrained rebukes until he mended his careless ways.
Nineteen
Elizabeth
MyDearLizzy,
I write to you from the refuge of my library, having escaped eight ladies in the drawing room, all aflutter over ribbons, officers, and neighborhood gossip. The usual mayhem, in other words. I suppose you have found more peaceful environs over there in Derbyshire just now? Or has your sister Jane infected even staid Aunt Gardiner with her smiles and good temper?
We are all eager for your return, most especially that black hairy creature who resides under this roof under the guise of being “my” dog. I believe Barker still awaits your whistled call from the garden gate each morning. Mrs. Hill trots him round the park daily, but he mopes without you.
As for the other creatures under my roof, I shall update you on their various fixations. Mrs. Bennet has taken to her room with lavender water and cold compresses after learning the militia may not be coming to Meryton this year after all. Had you been here, Lizzy, I’ve no doubt clever words from you could have prevented her descent into despair. Alas, she says our daughters are all doomed to spinsterhood and poverty now. I wait in dread for each day’s post, wondering what elaborate hat or gown she has ordered this week to assuage low spirits. At least this trend keeps her occupied upstairs and out of my library.
With your mother thus indisposed, most management of household affairs falls to Mary and Kitty. I often find Mary gazing dreamily out the window when she is supposed to be totting up figures. Perhaps she composes sonnets in her mind for distant suitors attracted by her new musical prowess.
As for Kitty, I believe aspirations of flirting with officers have transferred seamlessly to hopes of attracting the wealthy gentleman interested in leasing Longbourn one day. Yes, your mother caught wind of that rumor and has spent the past week outfitting your sisters in hopes of favorable first impressions. But with Jane’s informative letters keeping me apprised of recent developments nearer your current abode, I rather think Mr. Bingley’s eye will not be caught by lesser local beauties. Not that I have enlightened your incorrigible mother on that point!
What news of your adventures amongst old haunts, I wonder? By now, you will have called at that great house after such an unceremonious reintroduction to the family. Are the present residents as amiable as you recall from tender youth? Have stately manners replaced the carefree days of chasing pups across lawns long ago? Or does some enduring merriment still reside there to welcome wandering sprites displaced by time? You must indulge your lonely second father with every detail!
I remain safely ensconced among my books here, emerging only when appetite drives me to sample whatever concoctions arise from Mrs. Hill’s kitchen. I miss your company, and Jane’s, as we would share many happy hours reading together in this very library. At least you both share my preference for books over your sisters’ gossip. Now, with you gone, the silence here often reminds me of your absence… as does the renewed chatter from downstairs each time I open my study door. So do take care not to abandon your old father entirely!
Promise you will not allow former ties to permanently supplant our humble claims upon your heart, Lizzy dear. These rooms stand ready to receive you back, whenever wanderings release their siren call into nostalgia’s roots. Until then, I am ever,
Your Loving Papa
IpassedFather’sletterto Jane and found her waiting to share her letter from him with me. I read his words to her, snickering my amusement at his wry commentary. But mirth faded swiftly as a new thought came to me. When had I last felt so universally welcomed among friends? So seen for myself beyond my usefulness to others?
“What bothers you, Lizzy? I know that look.”
I flashed a smile. “Nothing. Just the startling realization that I seem to have two homes, where once, I might have said I hadn’t even one.” Unbidden, George’s laughing visage swam before me. He had called again yesterday afternoon—a mere stop out in the garden, but he had teased memories from me that I had once tried so hard to forget. How well I recalled trailing after him, vying daily for his infectious attention and admiration. My staunchest childhood ally.
“He does seem to fancy you,” Jane said softly.
“I think so! He makes no secret he hopes to revive our childhood attachment into something enduring.” I felt girlish excitement bubble up. Did he truly still care for me as I had secretly cared for him all these years?
But contrary thoughts followed. However much George welcomed me, his elder brother confused me. “Only Mr. Darcy gives me pause,” I confessed. “He seems at times to hold back… and then at others, he is so…” I bit my lip. Whatwashe? “I suppose it is understandable that he would be reserved, given my background and connections… or lack thereof.”
Jane arched one brow. “Believe me, Lizzy—propriety is not first in that gentleman’s thoughts around you!” She leaned forward confidingly. “He watches you most attentively when he thinks none notice.”
I flushed. “Fitzwilliam! You are imagining it. No, he never had a thought for me, nor I for him—not inthatway, surely. But…”
“Yes?”
I hesitated, then offered a wicked grin. “I suppose if one were to be introduced to them for the first time—not knowing their personalities, you understand—Fitzwilliam does cut the more dashing figure, does he not? So tall and mysterious! And my goodness, have you seen his eyes? I never noticed before that they looked like melted chocolate.”
