Finally, he raised his head and said, softly, “I think Mr. Bingley should propose to whichever young lady he believes will make him happy.”
Miss Bingley immediately raised a torrent of objections, but Mr. Bingley caught Mr. Darcy’s eye and nodded his gratitude.
Chapter Forty-Three
Georgiana read her brother’s letter three times before throwing her arms to the ceiling and dancing about in wild circles. Mrs. Annesley looked up from her sewing. “My dear Miss Darcy, what can possibly have occasioned such goings-on?”
“This letter from my brother! He is in love! Oh, heavens! I shall have a sister at last! You must forgive me, Mrs. Annesley, I must reply to him at once!”
Georgiana ran upstairs, her skirts in her hands. Sitting at her writing desk, her words poured out in a veritable torrent.
Dearest William!
I have never been so happy in all my life! You are in love with Miss Elizabeth! Now you see that these are not romantic fancies at all, but true symptoms of love! Tingling fingertips, racing heart, unable to resist sitting beside her! How wonderful!
Tell me all about her! You said she is beautiful, but what colour is her hair? Her eyes? Is she tall, or diminutive? Does she play? Draw?
And most importantly: when shall I meet her??
Your exquisitely happy sister,
Georgiana
Her heart still full and requiring more expression, she wrote another letter.
Dear Aunt Eleanor,
I have just received the most extraordinary letter from William! He
is courting a young lady in Hertfordshire, and he is most definitely in love with her! He wrote me about how his fingertips tingled when they touched hers, how his heart raced, how he is unable to stay away from her when they are in the same room! I ask you, Aunt, have you ever heard finer symptoms of love?
I may have a sister very soon, and I can scarce sit still for excitement!
Your exultant niece,
Georgiana
Chapter Forty-Four
Good heavens!” Lady Matlock expostulated. Her knife dropped onto her breakfast plate with a clatter.
“M’dear?” the Earl looked up, his mind still on an article inThe Morning Post.
“Darcy is in love with some country girl and is about to propose to her!”
“Impossible,” the Earl declared, the article now forgotten.
“I would have thought so as well, but – well, read for yourself.” Lady Matlock rose and gave her letter to the Earl.
As he read, he began to frown. “This is not good,” he muttered. Looking up at his wife, he declared, “No, not good at all! I thought you said Miss Stanford had made an impression on him?”
“So I thought, and then he had a sudden desperation to go off to visit that Bingley friend of his. And now – now this!”
The two stared at one another for a long minute. Then the Earl said, rather gruffly, “Oh, and I just received a short message from Reginald saying he requires a distraction from his writing and is on his way to Town.”
“Really…” Lady Matlock half closed her eyes and drummed her fingers on the table, considering this news that her eldest son was coming to visit.
“I know that look, Eleanor. What are you thinking?”
