“She plays the pianoforte beautifully, having shown early promise on the instrument and subsequently been provided with the best masters available.” Indeed, he had hired music masters to come all the way from London to nurture Georgiana’s talent. There was a Broadwood grand in the music room and another in the drawing room.
“Is she dark, like you?”
“She has dark eyes, but her hair is blond, like your sister’s, and falls into perfect ringlets. She is always beautifully dressed.” The perfection of those ringlets, he was well aware, were thanks to the efforts of his sister’s very expensive French lady’s maid, Genevieve. Genevieve had a keen eye for fashion; as a result, Georgiana’s wardrobes were crammed full of expensive gowns, some of which she had never gotten around to wearing.
In fact, as he thought about it, Georgiana had but to express a wish for something, for it to materialise. She lived like a princess; in fact, he had jokingly called her the Princess of Pemberley! What was she running away from, when she ran off with Wickham? She was the luckiest young lady in the country! How could she have been so very ungrateful? So thoughtless?
Elizabeth watched his face tighten and his eyes narrow. His breath was coming fast. “Do you see it now, Mr. Darcy? You are angry with your sister. Look at your hands.”
He looked down at his hands; they were shaking. “Angry! Of course not, how could I be…” His voice trailed away. “Iamangry. I did not realise it until this moment.”
“I understand why you would be. You gave her everything and this is how she repays you.”
“Yes, that is it exactly.” He was grateful beyond words that she understood him so well. He took several deep breaths to try to calm himself.
“But you understand that you must find a way to release your anger in order to move forward with your life, do you not? Remember what Katherine says to Hortensio: ‘My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.”
Before he could respond, Miss Mary called out, “It is cold; let us go inside.”
Chapter Twenty
When Mr. Darcy and the Colonel returned to Netherfield, they found Mr. Bingley waiting for them. Mr. Bingley demanded to speak to Colonel Fitzwilliam privately. “You should come as well, Darcy, to hear what your cousin has to say for himself.”
The three men gathered in the billiard room, where they hoped to avoid Miss Bingley’s notice. Mr. Hurst enjoyed billiards, so he followed them, eager for a game. Mr. Bingley made certain the door to the room was closed, so they would not be overheard.
Mr. Bingley began immediately. “I was occupied today and so was unable to accompany you to Longbourn. Tell me, Colonel, are you truly interested in Miss Bennet?” His tone was hostile.
“I think the young lady should be given a choice,” was the unruffled reply.
“And you do not think this the height of bad manners, given that you are a guest in my home?”
“I do not, no. I think we should both behave like civilised gentlemen and – as Darcy here put it – may the best man win. Though I will certainly remove myself to the local inn, if you prefer, Bingley.”
Mr. Bingley’s forehead creased. “No, I do not want you to leave. But this all seems very wrong to me; after all, I saw her first.”
The Colonel said. “And that is truly the argument that you wish to make? That you saw her first?”
Mr. Darcy had to chuckle at that. “Come, Bingley, we are not children,” he said. “The Colonel is right; we can all behave like civilised gentlemen.”
Mr. Bingley turned on him. “And thus speaks the man who snapped his wineglass in half because his ladylove was having an enjoyable conversation with the Colonel!”
Mr. Darcy winced as the Colonel laughed. “Oh, you think that is what caused that epic wine spill? You are a sad pair, the both of you. See here, Bingley, if you can convince me that you can control your sister, I will desist from my attentions to Miss Bennet.”
“Really! Very well, then, I shall begin directly! I must say, that is very sporting of you, Colonel.” With that, he left the room. Mr. Hurst, disgusted that no billiard games were in evidence, stalked out of the room behind him, unremarked.
Mr. Darcy immediately went to the door and closed it. “Still no word from London?” he asked.
The Colonel shook his head. “Nothing. But answer me this. If there were to be word and we had to ride away immediately, what would happen to your interest in Miss Elizabeth?’
Mr. Darcy shook his head. “Honestly, Richard, I do not know what to do. Do I put my life on hold, as I have done since July, hoping to alter the fate that has befallen me? Or do I move forward with my life, adapting to my changed circumstances?”
“And by changed circumstances, you mean…”
“Having a disgraced family name!”
“Darcy, you do realise that the Matlock name is disgraced by extension, do you not?”
“I had not considered that.”
