“Miss Darcy, do tell your brother that he should go out and enjoy himself. In fact, there is no reason that you should not attend as well.” Mr. Bingley was eager for everyone to join him.
“Miss Darcy is not out,” Miss Bingley reminded him.
“Country society is not the same as Town society,” Mrs. Hurst said. “There is no reason she could not come along and watch the dancers. In fact, she could dance with her brother and nothing would be amiss.”
“I cannot,” Georgiana whispered. She rose, curtsied to the room, and ran upstairs.
“Excuse me,” Mr. Darcy said. He rose, bowed and followed his sister upstairs to her room.
“Georgiana, may I enter?”
“Yes.” Her voice was low.
He went into the room and closed the door behind him. “Why would you not consider going to the assembly?”
“And be stared at by everyone? I think not,” she returned.
“Why would anyone stare at you? No one knows you, Georgiana. Would it not be good to get out of this room, out of this house?”
“No, but you should go, Brother. As you say, it would be good for you to get out of this house.”
“I go riding every day with Bingley to look at the tenant farms; I am hardly housebound.”
Georgiana shrugged. “I will not go, and that is all I will say on the matter.”
Chapter Seventeen
Longbourn
In his study, Mr. Bennet tried to close his ears to the chaos that had engulfed Longbourn. It was the same whenever there was an assembly; there was a good deal of arguing over ribbons, shoe roses, hair ornaments, gloves and anything else that five girls could find to fight about. His wife’s voice rose above all the rest. How it was that Mrs. Bennet could be shriller even than Lydia was a mystery, and one he would never solve.
He furrowed his brow and tried, yet again, to concentrate on his Greek.
***
“I wonder a good deal about Mr. Bingley’s house guests,” Elizabeth said, as she fastened two pearl pins into Jane’s hair. “The servants say that there is a young girl who stays in her room all day long! It is quite mysterious, is it not?”
“Perhaps she is ill,” Jane said.
“No, she is ugly!” Lydia said, entering the room in time to hear the conversation. She crossed her eyes and pushed her nose upwith her thumb to demonstrate. “She does not want anyone to see her because they will laugh at her.”
“That is unkind, Lydia,” Jane scolded her.
“I suppose we will never know,” Elizabeth said. “But it sounds very sad. Perhaps we should visit her? Otherwise, we will likely never meet her.”
“Well, we will meet Mr. Bingley tonight,” Jane said. “And that is a good deal of excitement right there, for when was the last time a single gentleman moved into the neighbourhood?”
“Mr. Armstrong, three years ago,” Lydia said, promptly. “Speaking ofugly!”
“Alas, very true,” Elizabeth said. “But Papa said that Mr. Bingley was well-looking enough.”
“Whatever ‘well-looking enough’ means,” Jane said. “It is not a good deal of information. But we must not judge him on his looks.”
“We will find out more about him soon enough,” Elizabeth said. “Now stop talking and sit still so that I can finish your hair!”
***
Miss Bingley swanned down the stairway a full half an hour late. Despite her “pearls before swine” comment about Louisa’s plans, she had donned her very best gown. She sparkled in a Parma Violet gown overlaid with a crème net with paste diamonds sewn in. Her shoes were dyed to match, and the silver buckles also shone with paste diamonds. She wore several feathers in her hair that had also been dyed to match the gown. Her cloak was a darker shade of purple, trimmed with white fur.
