She finally rose and found her way to the small family drawing room, where she rang for tea.
Chapter Forty-Three
Mr. Darcy did his best to concentrate on the pile of letters from his various correspondents – the stewards on the satellite estates, his man of business, his bankers, and so on – all waiting for him on his desk, but he was continuously distracted by his more immediate concerns. His mother’s behaviour was bizarre, far worse than he had anticipated. Would she never be able to accept Elizabeth, thereby sentencing herself to exile at Cresston Hall? He certainly could not allow the community that was Pemberley to be torn apart in what amounted to a civil war. Taking a moment’s refuge in humour, he wondered why it was called a civil war, when there was very little civility involved!
And he was anxious for his sister; he had been blind to the shortcomings of her upbringing until Elizabeth had probed for details.
Mr. Darcy hoped he was hiding his worries well; he did not want to cause Elizabeth any additional apprehension. What must she think of him, bringing her into such a madhouse?
He glanced at the clock on his desk; perhaps he could take tea with Elizabeth. Their various duties kept them busy all day, but he missed her company. She, and only she, had the power to make him forget his many cares.
Carrying his letters to be posted, he went in search of her. As he had hoped, she was in the family drawing room and had just begun pouring tea for herself. Her face lit up when she saw him.
“William! Have you come to take tea with me?’
“Yes; I had hoped to find you here. What luck!”
She poured for him, and fixed him a small plate with a blueberry tart.
“Blueberry tart!”
“Yes; Mrs. Thurston was delighted to learn how very much you enjoyed them, and promised that they would appear far more often.”
The two sat in silence for a moment. Then they both spoke at once.
“Elizabeth –“
“William –“
They both stopped. Mr. Darcy said, “Please continue, Elizabeth.”
“Very well; I wanted to let you know that I wrote to Aunt Gardiner about a possible companion for Georgiana.”
“Excellent; that was what I had wished to bring up. You are quite right; Georgiana is terribly unprepared for her Season, and she must be given the opportunity to get ready.”
“My thoughts as well; she has little time left in which to learn French and perfect her manners.”
“You think her unmannerly?”
Elizabeth hesitated. This was dangerous ground, to be sure. “Do you not think her unnaturally fearful, William?”
“Fearful?” His tone was doubtful.
“Likely you are accustomed to it, but seeing her shrink back, afraid to say anything, all but cowering in her seat! No, that is not usual behaviour for a young lady in her position.”
He was silent.
She eyed him, knowingly. “And doubtless you think that two of my sisters could learn to cower a bit?”
He coloured, as that had been precisely his thoughts.
Elizabeth shook her head at him. “Well, let me tell you that Kitty and Lydia would survive a Season in London far better than your sister. Oh, their behaviour would be considered shocking, to be sure, but they would laugh it off and get dressed for the next ball. Miss Darcy, on the other hand, would take the very first slight to heart and hide under her bed for the remainder of the Season.”
Mr. Darcy closed his eyes for a moment. “You are right; I do not doubt it.”
“One other thing. I have asked my Aunt Gardiner to discover the direction of a Master Bianchi.”
“Master – oh, the music master Georgiana was to take lessons from in London.”
