Georgiana had not been at all pleased by her brother’s latest letter. What did he mean by calling it ‘romantic folderol’? If he was not careful, he would lose this young lady, whoever she was, and then heaven only knew who he would end up with! Some witless creature from theton, no doubt! No, Georgiana intended to have a far better sister than that, thank you very much.
Dear Brother,
I am very much upset with you! Romantic folderol indeed! Do you forget that our own parents were very much in love? I was young when mother died, of course, but even I recall the two of them smiling at one another, and holding hands when they went out for strolls! Do you truly want to tie yourself for life to someone you can scarce speak with, let alone delight in?
Do you not recall the letter you wrote to me from London, saying that you had been introduced to a young lady who met all your requirements, but you could not work up the desire to court her? That was because your heart had not been touched!
Oh, Brother, please, please do not let this young lady in Meryton get away from you!
With great trepidation,
Georgiana
***
When Mr. Darcy received the letter, he read it and then went outside to stare out at the rain. Trepidation, indeed! For the young lady about whom he had written all that romantic folderol had left very unexpectedly and without a word to him.
Then again, what reason would she have had to tell him of her plans? He had never, by word or deed, indicated any partiality for her. He was no more to her than a neighbour’s visitor. Though, if he was not mistaken, and he did not think he was, her departure had been as much a surprise to her family, save Mary and Mr. Collins, as to anyone else. Oh, they had hidden it well, but Mr. Darcy knew himself to be a keen observer.
And that led to another idea. Had she removed herself as a potential wife for Mr. Bingley, thereby leaving the field open to her sister? Was this because she did not wish to marry Mr. Bingley? Or was he merely wishing this to be the case?
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Mr. Fitzwilliam followed Mr. Darcy’s recommendations to the letter. No sooner had he entered Lucas Lodge, then he asked for permission to speak with Sir William privately. Mr. Darcy watched as Lady Lucas and Miss Lucas struggled to contain their glee and behave properly toward their remaining guest.
Mr. Darcy decided to help the conversation along. He began, “Was Miss Elizabeth’s departure known beforehand? I confess that it caught me entirely by surprise.”
Charlotte dropped her gaze.
“Ah, Miss Lucas,” Mr. Darcy said. “You knew about it.”
“I did not, no,” she replied, but she looked ill at ease.
“You suspected it, then, at least. No, I apologise, I should not be quizzing you in such a manner,” he said, aware that his behaviour was inappropriate.
“Truthfully, Mr. Darcy, she chose to remove herself from the competition,” Miss Lucas said, finally raising her gaze and looking directly into Mr. Darcy’s eyes.
“From the competition,” he repeated, thoughtfully. Then he added, just to be certain, “For Mr. Bingley,” he said.
Charlotte shook her head. “I can say no more. I will only add that I hope Mr. Bingley will now feel free to act as his heart dictates.”
Mr. Darcy murmured something that sounded like agreement, but his mind was racing. Elizabeth, away from Bingley! Elizabeth, in Kent!
Sir William entered the room, followed closely by Reginald. “Viscount – er, Mr. Fitzwilliam has asked to speak with Charlotte privately, and I have given my consent.”
Lady Lucas clasped her hands to her breast, tears in her eyes.
Mr. Fitzwilliam went to Charlotte and offered her his arm. “Would you care to take a walk with me, Charlotte?”
“Of course,” she answered, fervently. “Just let me get my pelisse.” She vanished and returned not a minute later, her pelisse over her arm.
“Allow me,” Mr. Fitzwilliam murmured.
Mr. Darcy watched in amazement as Mr. Fitzwilliam took the pelisse from her and held it open, so that Miss Lucas might slip her arms into it. He had not imagined that his cousin knew how to perform that little courtesy.
The two disappeared out the front door. The room was silent for a minute, as everyone searched desperately for something to day. Finally, Lady Lucas said, “He is a bit odd, but he is a good man, is he not, Mr. Darcy?”
“The very best, Lady Lucas,” Mr. Darcy replied, honestly. “He will treat Miss Lucas very well; you need have no fears on that account.”
