“You were only trying to help! Mr Bingley said that a man she did not like tried to force her into an engagement in public, and that she was finding it difficult to maintain her refusal. I think what you did was wonderful and noble. She did not?”
He gave a short, bitter laugh. “Far from it. Collins is not the only man who is not high in her graces. I have been completely wrong about her, Georgie. She informed me yesterday that she has never cared for me, and she believes… well, some things do not bear repeating. It is enough to say that she has heard unsavoury rumours of me, and I fear my behaviour to her has not been such as would cause her to overlook them as false.”
“Rumours? But what rumours could there be of you? You are always just and upright.”
“Sweetling,” he sighed, grasping her hand gently, “you know that not everyone in this world speaks the truth. In our position, you must realize there are many who would seek their own aggrandizement at our expense.” She began to colour, but he touched her cheek in encouragement, raising her eyes back to his.
“Georgie, the trouble is not what Miss Elizabeth heard but what she has believed. Had I somehow earned her good opinion prior, she might have been less willing to believe me capable of the things of which I am accused. The fault is mine, not hers.” He spoke softly, the truth of his own words seeping into his heart.
Georgiana’s eyes clouded with stinging moisture. Her lonely girlish heart longed desperately for a sister, and her hopes for Miss Elizabeth had been high. William never wrote approvingly of any other young woman of his acquaintance, and he certainly had never been inspired to shield any others from gentlemen they did not like—and at such a cost to himself!
She blinked rapidly, a few errant tears spilling on her cheeks. With a sympathetic smile, her brother tugged her close to his chest, tucking her under his arm as he had when they were children. Georgiana burrowed her face into his dark morning coat.
They sat, comforting each other in silence. Georgiana gazed devotedly up at him as he stared vacantly across the room. William was always so kind to her. He deserved a woman he could love and who could love him in return, but most only courted his wealth and position. Most cared little enough whether he was kind or honourable, and certainly, none would have dreamed of turning down the heir to the Darcy fortune because he had offended them.
Hope began to breathe again in her breast. If Miss Elizabeth had tried to refuse him, then it meant she wasnotthe kind of woman who relentlessly pursued him solely to become Mistress of Pemberley. She must have a heart. Perhaps...
“William?” Georgiana fingered the rumpled collar of his jacket hesitantly.
“Yes, Dearest?” He was looking better already, the effects of the previous night gradually giving way to the light of day and his pleasure at his sister’s comradeship.
“Do you think I could meet her? I mean… would she talk to me?”
He peered down into her earnest face. His heart longed for exactly that, despite what he had told Richard. He had ruminated in endless frustration on how Georgiana would love Elizabeth since the first day the latter had stayed at Netherfield.
In truth, Georgiana needed someone like Elizabeth. Her easy playfulness would go far toward cheering and encouraging shy Georgiana. Since her narrow escape from Wickham’s clutches, she had been increasingly unsure of herself and nervous in company. He did not wish her to follow in his own footsteps, despising social settings because of his awkwardness in conversation. If anyone could brighten his dearest sister and set her at her ease, it was Elizabeth Bennet.
“I do not know,” he answered slowly. “Her father is injured, and the family is rather troubled just now. I am certain she is expending most of her time and energy caring for him, as well as her mother and younger sisters. I must speak with her, however. The entire town believes us to be engaged, and it could prove disastrous for her if it is broken off. We will certainly be expected to call, but whether she will be in a mood to receive me, I cannot say.”
Georgiana rose suddenly, unsettling him. “Then let us go now!” she smiled invitingly. She tugged at his unwilling hands, pleading with him to rise and join her. “Come, William, you must eat something, and then you will feel better. May we call on her today, do you think?”
A reluctant smile forced itself upon his lips. “We shall see, Georgie. Though a square meal does sound very appealing right now.” He followed her, and, arm in arm, they strolled down to the family dining room for a belated luncheon.
“WhydearGeorgiana!”CarolineBingley greeted them exuberantly, spreading her arms in magnanimous salutations. She strode toward Georgiana, but her eyes were on Darcy. He stood stoically, ready to intervene if Georgiana appeared overwhelmed. He completely sympathized; anyone would be ill at ease in the presence of Bingley’s sister.
“And dear Mr Darcy, I was in such distress when I heard you were ill this morning. Just look now. You are so well recovered! I am certain we owe that to the arrival of our dearest Georgiana.” She patted Georgiana’s hand in a great display of affection. He proved resolutely non-committal.
Undaunted, she rattled on, this time addressing herself to Georgiana. “I wassosurprised and delighted to hear you had come to us! I was just saying to your brother the other day how I admired your newest sketches. Was I not, Darcy?”
Caroline beamed at him. He remained silent, refusing to relinquish Georgiana’s arm lest she be seized by Caroline. “I was simply inraptures, how you captured the beauty of Pemberley’s lake! Why, I never saw the like, were we not saying so, Louisa?”
Louisa nodded and smiled obligingly across the table, but Caroline paid her little attention. “Come, darling, sit by me. What a merry party we shall be! We have so much catching up to do!”
Georgiana cast a braver glance than she truly felt toward her brother, and only then did he turn loose of her elbow. With some trepidation, she followed Caroline to a seat at the opposite end of the table from her brother. She never knew what to say to Caroline Bingley. She always felt like the woman was a gale force of gossip and chatter, the likes of which it was impossible for her to follow. There was little substance to her conversation and little opportunity to contribute to a dialogue.
“How lovely it is to settle in the country for the holidays, is it not, dear Georgiana? So much pleasanter than Town, I always say.” Georgiana managed a wan smile. On the brighter side, if she allowed Caroline to prattle on, she would not be required to speak herself.
There had been a brief time, a few years ago when she had feared William might marry this woman. Caroline Bingley’s first visit to Pemberley had very nearly been her last, when she had tried to assume hostess duties at their Michaelmas feast. William had been scandalized! He had not very kindly set her in her place... as it happened, that place had been as far from himself as possible. Georgiana fought to suppress a wholly inappropriate smirk at the memory. Caroline, meanwhile, had forgotten her love of the country, and she droned on about the dullness of Hertfordshire and her plans once they reached Town.
At the other end of the table, Darcy helped himself to a heaping pile of smoked meats, cheeses, and scones. He topped them with a tantalizing cranberry sauce and cream, then a second plate full of fruits from the hothouse joined the first. Bingley’s eyebrows raised dubiously, but whatever he considered saying was drowned in his cup.
Fitzwilliam sat nearby with an empty plate, already leaning back from the table somewhat further than was proper. Darcy tucked into his luncheon with as much zeal as Hurst ever had, finding relief even in the first few bites from the light-headedness which still plagued him.
Bingley waited for the beast to finish wolfing down his victuals before broaching the subject of the Bennets. Once he felt safe, he began. “Darcy, I sent a note to Longbourn this morning to ask after Mr Bennet.”
Darcy paused, very properly setting down his fork and wiping his mouth before replying. “Has there been any improvement?”
“None so far, but he is no worse. Miss Jane Bennet wishes to thank us—by which I assume she means you—for arranging a nurse for him.” Bingley stared pointedly at him.
