Chapter Eight
My dearest sister,
While I quite understand and sympathise with your consternation over Miss Bingley’s wounded feelings, I might take the opportunity of reminding you that the lady in question is a woman grown, who cornered me and extricated those comments under no little duress. That, of course, does not excuse my candour, though I will apologise for the harsh tone in which I delivered my response.
In my defense
The thing is
I am of the firm belief that one ought not ask questions to which one does not really wish to hear the answers. I told Miss Bingley as much at the time, and yet she insisted on hearing that which she must have known could only hurt her. I fear that I forgot one of the most important points on that list; her inability to leave well enough alone. This, above all other faults, may be her undoing someday. If you have agreed to such a scheme, and I assume you have, for you have never been able to ignore any creature in need, then you would do well to bear that in mind.
Your affectionate—whether you return my love or not—brother,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
P.S. Stallion or mare?
The sky was overcast now, the clouds amassing into one large grey blanket which blotted out the sun. Caroline was glad of her navy wrap, for a newly-sprung breeze caused goosebumps to rise along her arms in the short time it had taken she and Georgiana to leave the house and climb into the carriage. The footmen and driver looked as resplendent as ever in starched uniforms and neatly combed hair, but none of them wore the same terrified expressions as Mrs Bingley’s servants often did. Before they’d even reached the front gates of Pemberley, Georgiana’s nerves became apparent, her fingers twitching in her lap. “I just wanted to say—” she began, then stopped. “Perhaps this was a mistake. It is rather soon after your first lesson, is it not?”
“You act as though I am some wild animal recently purchased from a faraway land, who must be muzzled lest she start running amok and biting the ankles of the general populace.” Caroline frowned. “Do not forget that I was out in society a full three years before you.”
“That is not what I...” Georgiana sighed, her expression turning apologetic. “Pray excuse my incivility. I did not mean to suggest that you do not know how to conduct yourself. Nor that you bite ankles.”
“Not without being asked first, anyway.”
Georgiana’s lips twitched. “And yet,” she added, fixing Caroline with a semi-serious glare, “you did ask me for help tobecome a kinder person. Which means that you acknowledge deficiencies in your own character and seek to rectify them. And given that—”
“Is there any need to refer to them asdeficiencies?” The word recalled Darcy’s comments a little too closely for comfort, and while she’d decided to take his advice—albeit in her own peculiar way—she did not particularly wish to relive those humiliating moments when he’d listed her worst qualities. Or at least, what he’d decided were her worst qualities.
“Oh? What might you have called them?”
“Something far softer. Quirks, perhaps. Tiny flaws. Even a precious jewel may have one or two slight... er... scratches upon its surface that, in being ground away or otherwise polished, renders the gem of a much higher value and beauty. This is merely my polishing, Georgie.”
Miss Darcy raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought you were asking to be dug out of the ground.”
“Do you plan to stop needling me before we arrive at Miss Merrybank’s house or is this to be an all-day treat?”
“Merryhill,” Georgiana corrected.
“Yes, yes,” Caroline said, waving an impatient hand. “You were saying? About my so-called imperfections?”
“Well, I merely wish to remind you of what I said the other day. About keeping your opinions to yourself. Not every word which flits through that beautiful head of yours need be spoken out loud. Remember that we discussed the need for your words to always be amiable and graceful, whatever the situation or whomever the company might be. If your opinion is not a complimentary one, please do not share it.”
Caroline preened. “You think my head beautiful?”
Miss Darcy closed her eyes for a moment, her lips movingas if in prayer. “Please pay attention. Today, your test is to be charitable and complimentary, regardless of how you might actually feel. Just because Miss Merryhill does not live on a large estate or move in the highest of society circles does not mean that she is not deserving of respect and kindness.”
Caroline opened her mouth to say that,Actually, inmy opinion it means exactly that, but then decided against it. After all, they’d only just made it onto the main road, and if Georgiana was pushed too far, she might decide to forgo the outing entirely. “Tell me,” she said, as the carriage rumbled down the road, “how did you come to be acquainted with this young lady in the first place?”
“What makes you think her a young lady?”
Caroline blinked. “Oh. I had assumed, since she was Miss Merryhill and not Mrs, that—”
“In fact, she is a spinster. I do not know her precise age, but I expect she is in her late thirties.”
That certainly put a different spin on the afternoon ahead. “I see.”
“We met at church,” Georgiana continued. “She plays the organ there sometimes, and very well, too. We exchange sheets of music and talk of what we have heard played. She has excellent taste, and a splendid ear. Only needs to hear something once before she can play it.” She smiled, evidently recalling a fond memory. “A singular talent. I wish I possessed such a thing.”
