Page 30 of The Work of a Moment

“Darcy took no leave of you, nor shall I, Miss Bennet.” She swung her cane as she turned to depart, and though it seemed unlikely she meant to injure Elizabeth with it, the wooden shaft lifted both letters from Cheapside into the air and towards the fire. They, and the news they contained, turned swiftly to ash. Aghast, Elizabeth could only liken it to her friendship with Charlotte. Chagrin set in as she watched her friend bow her head and curtsey deeply to Lady Catherine before rushing into the parlour. Mr Collins ran after his patroness, desperately trying to placate her as she climbed into her carriage.

“Lizzy—”

“I have nothing to say, nor any apologies for my behaviour,” Elizabeth said quietly, unable to meet Charlotte’s gaze. She looked round the room for any possessions she should collect before adding, “Although none of her accusations are remotely true, I am sorry to have brought Lady Catherine’s wrath down upon your household. I will retire to my room until morning. The post is at seven? I ask only for help with carrying my trunk to the carriage.”

Now, hours later, having flung herself on her bed and wept, paced the floor, and packed her belongings, Elizabeth closed her small trunk and sank onto it, her head in her hands. The questions she had about Jane’s heart and Mr Bingley’s intentions were made small by the charges hurled by Lady Catherine. While her angry invectives still rang in Elizabeth’s ears, her concern lay less with her own supposed disgrace than with Mr Darcy. What had happened at Rosings? Had Lady Catherine driven Mr Darcy away with her temper, or had he determined Miss Darcy was in some danger from Miss Bingley’s mercenary insinuations and left quickly to address it? Had both occurred?

To say nothing of my own procrastination in alerting him to the claims in her letters. Oh, how he must despise me!

She was no better than Lady Catherine in making spurious accusations. There was more truth in what that lady had claimed than in any of the suppositions Elizabeth had had of Mr Darcy. I was unkind. When he told me he loved me, I called him imprudent. Foolish, obstinate girl!

Sighing, Elizabeth rose from the trunk, moving to stand by the window and stare at the grey skies that so perfectly matched her mood. Once, he may have felt something for me, but the quarrels and misunderstandings between us and my laxity in disclosing Miss Bingley’s intimations have destroyed any hope of maintaining our connexion.

She would never see him again.

The pain of that realisation, that her inaction might have harmed his sister and lessened any affection he felt towards her, brought on fresh tears. She liked him more than she had understood, and certainly more than he could know.

CHAPTER 23

Wilted Hopes

During the interminable thirty miles to London, Darcy was consumed with one thought. Has Miss Bingley somehow persuaded Georgiana that I would be amenable to a marriage between her and Bingley?

He rubbed his face, flushed with worry that Georgiana had been taken in. Again.

He had had his doubts after the Wickham debacle. Georgiana remained naïve, inexperienced in the ways of society’s vultures. Much as he had felt her new companion steady and worthy of his trust, had he warned her of Miss Bingley’s nature? Had he truly known it himself? All manner of recriminations flew through his mind on the journey from Kent to London, most of them aimed at himself and his failure to protect his sister. By the time his carriage drew up at Darcy House, he was in full fury, desperate to ensure his sister had been capable of withstanding Miss Bingley’s entreaties. Even if Bingley was not involved and had been in Georgiana’s company merely as an unwitting suitor, had Miss Bingley gone to such lengths as to create a situation where he felt some responsibility for Georgiana’s reputation and wished to marry her?

Rushing through his front door, he was somewhat relieved to learn his sister was currently ensconced in the music room with her harp master, an elderly man venerated for his artistry and delicate manner. Georgiana is in safe hands. He headed to his rooms to refresh himself. And I should calm myself before frightening her with my unexpected arrival.

Rather than shock, Georgiana was happily surprised to see him returned nearly a week earlier than anticipated. Darcy had to restrain his desperation for a full accounting of the Bingleys’ behaviour and instead tell her of the dull company at Rosings and the inferior condition of the pianoforte in its long-neglected music room. “Beyond meeting Lady Catherine’s new vicar and his wife and the guests at the parsonage,” he told her, “there was little amusement to be found.”

He had lied. Never had he more enjoyed a visit to Rosings, and it was only because of the presence of the loveliest, liveliest lady he had ever met. He had failed to impress her as she had long impressed him, but he felt they now knew one another, and though the feelings between them were unequal, the concern she had shown to him and Georgiana gave him hope. A hope he had failed to encourage, overcome as he had been by his fears for his sister. Images of Elizabeth’s beautiful eyes—full of mirth or bright with anger—surged in his memory. He had taken pains not to dwell on his final moments with her and the flash of anger he had shown—not at her, of course, but at the situation threatening his sister, who had only escaped similar danger last summer.

Georgiana seemed not to notice his preoccupation. “Poor Fitzwilliam. He will be restless without you. I imagine he is eager to become an uncle,” she added hopefully.

“And you to gain a cousin,” Darcy said, earning a smile from her. “No longer will you be the youngest in the family.” When her smile broadened, he added carefully, “Lady Matlock has requested your company in Surrey. I believe she feels your conversation would be a welcome diversion during these final days of Amelia’s confinement.”

Georgiana appeared pleased, if rather tremulous, at the prospect of joining the household. “Would I not be in the way?”

“Not at all,” he assured her. “Lady Matlock expressly said she and Amelia wish you to be there to coo over the babe when it is born.”

After a few moments listening to his sister’s excited murmuring about babies and the kindness of their relations, Darcy said, “She would like you there as soon as possible. Are there any engagements you must cancel or postpone?”

Turning solemn, Georgiana sighed. “Beyond Miss Bingley, who will be greatly disappointed by my leaving town, no.”

Darcy frowned, torn between melancholy and fury at such a confession. His sister’s shyness had made it difficult for her to form friendships, and it dismayed him to hear her acknowledge how limited her social circle had become. She was easy prey for those who wished to exploit her. He had left her defenceless to machinations and gossip, which, fortunately, seemed not to have reached her ears. Thank heavens Georgiana is spared such distress!

“Will you be disappointed as well?” he asked carefully. “You wrote that you have been much in company with her and Mr Bingley.”

“He is—they are—thoughtful to look after me in your absence. I am certain they will be more than pleased to have you in town in my place.”

“For now, they need not know I am here.” He regarded her closely. “You and I are more content with our own company than are others—certainly Bingley does not enjoy an idle evening at home. Have you felt overwhelmed by their overtures?”

“Oh no, well… they are your friends, and being so much older than I, very kind to provide me company while you were in Kent.” It was an admission that eased Darcy’s disquiet just a bit. Then, her voice low and hurried, Georgiana added, “I do not wish to sound ungrateful nor to insult Miss Bingley, but it can be tiresome listening to her opinions on so many topics and having none of my own to offer.” Her voice lower, she confided, “Miss Bingley is so keen to talk of the admirable qualities displayed by you and Mr Bingley that I wonder if she knows any other gentlemen.”

His sister blushed at her own boldness, but Darcy had never been prouder of her. He grasped her hands and smiled. “You must know that I have no particular interest in her. She is merely my friend’s sister. Indeed, I have wished she might gain an introduction to some other gentlemen who might instead occupy her thoughts.”

She looked shocked, but that soon gave way to a rueful confession. “I am curious about Miss Bingley being so generous in giving her time with me. I am not out and cannot introduce her to any gentlemen or ladies. She has other friends, I hope. Many people did recognise us. However, there were moments at the gallery and at the park when I felt others greeted us oddly.”