Page 84 of Pride, Prejudice & Wicked Pleasure

“She is quite agreeable,” Georgiana said when they were headed back to Pemberley. “And lovely.”

“Is that your true opinion or do you speak to gratify mine?” Darcy asked.

Georgiana flushed. “Mine own. I should be pleased to have…a sister.”

It was his turn to flush. He kept his focus on the ribbons and the road. “Her feelings are less clear.”

Miss Darcy, perhaps too shocked to comprehend any woman who did not think the world of her brother, said nothing.

Upon their return to Pemberley, a footman delivered him a letter just arrived. Recognizing the Trenwith seal, Darcy excused himself and sought the privacy of his own chambers. He planted himself in his favourite chair before the window overlooking the lake and opened the letter.

My Dear Fitzwilliam,

I hope that I may call upon your able assistance as a mentor of Trenwith House, for I have a young woman in want of your services. As you know, I never divulge the identity of anyone participating in our educational process and have long held that such concealment, in order to protect the innocent, does not amount to deceit. But your unique circumstance makes me think that I should be deceitful in not disclosing the identity of your prospective student. I had hoped to be in Derbyshire myself to arrange matters, but, alas, my presence is required here at Trenwith House. She has hopes of meeting with me, and I had hoped you would mitigate her disappointment by being my replacement.

Perhaps you have guessed by now that the student I wish you to meet with is none other than Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Lest you think her destination of Derbyshire to be at my prompting, her aunt and uncle may disavow you of that notion, but I will admit, as I knew you to be headed back to Pemberley the same time, I could not help but think that the hand of destiny might be at play. If you choose to proceed, this will be your fourth and final lesson with her. Through mutual acquaintances, I have been able to make certain arrangements should you wish to proceed with the lesson, but the execution of the particulars, which I have detailed on the accompanying page, will be in your hands entirely.

With greatest regard

and warmest affections,

ABBY

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

After their visitors had left, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner expressed their favourable opinion of Bingley.

“I can see how one can be partial to such a pleasant and engaging young man,” Mrs. Gardiner remarked. “I admit I had been quite curious to meet him.”

“A gentleman to be sure,” Mr. Gardiner agreed.

Lizzy only nodded. In seeing Bingley, her thoughts had naturally flown to her sister; and, oh! how ardently did she long to know whether any of his had been directed in a like manner. She could not be deceived as to his behaviour to Miss Darcy, who had been set up as a rival to Jane. No look appeared on either side that spoke particular regard. Nothing had occurred between them that could justify the hopes of his sister. On this point she had been soon satisfied; and two or three little circumstances occurred ere they had parted, which, in her anxious interpretation, denoted a recollection of Jane not untinctured by tenderness, and a wish of saying more that might lead to the mention of her, had he dared. His memory had been so exact as to the last date he had seen them—or Jane, rather.

“Miss Darcy did not speak much but seemed to have every appearance of gentility. She is not as handsome as the brother, but there is sense and good humor in her face.”

“I had heard her to be exceedingly proud,” Lizzy said, “but I think her only exceedingly shy.”

“She did speak mostly in monosyllables,” Mr. Gardiner said.

“She is young still, being only six and ten,” Mrs. Gardiner had said, “though her figure be formed and her appearance womanly and graceful.”

Lizzy had come to the quick conclusion that there was nothing to cultivate a dislike of Miss Darcy, whose manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle. She had been astonished to find the young woman as embarrassed as her. Lizzy had expected to find in her new acquaintance as acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, and had been much relieved by discerning such different feelings.

“And that Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Gardiner said with a curious eye upon Lizzy, “I am quite touched by his politeness. I am inclined to believe his housekeeper’s view of him.”

“She certainly would be the authority,” added Mr. Gardiner, “having known him since he was four years old. Her manners indicate respectability.”

“There is nothing among the intelligence of our friends in Lambton that would contradict her. They have nothing to accuse him of but pride. Pride he probably has, and if not, it would be imputed easily enough by the inhabitants of a small market-town where the family does not visit.”

“However, it is acknowledged that he is a liberal man and does much good among the poor.”

“He discharged the debts that Wickham had left behind here in Derbyshire. I am surprised at how low in estimation that young man is regarded here.”

“I am amazed at the honour of Mr. and Miss Darcy coming to visit us so soon after her arrival. I wonder how to account for such attentions from such a quarter?”

At this, Lizzy begged pardon to return to her room and dress. She had been discomposed and perturbed enough by the visit, and the inquiring looks of her aunt and uncle made everything worse. Alone, she had opportunity to process all that happened in the last half-an-hour.

It was not often that she could turn her eyes on Mr. Darcy himself; but, whenever she had caught a glimpse, she saw an expression of general complaisance, and in all that he said she heard an accent so removed from hauteur or disdain of his companions, as convinced her that the improvement of manners which she had yesterday witnessed however temporary its existence might prove, had at least outlived one day. When she saw him thus seeking the acquaintance and courting the good opinion of people with whom any intercourse a few months ago would have been a disgrace—when she saw him civil, not only to herself, but to the very relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected their last lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage—the difference, the change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible. Never, even in the company of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please, so free from self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance could result from the success of his endeavours, and when even the acquaintance of those to whom his attentions were addressed would draw down the ridicule and censure of the ladies both of Netherfield and Rosings.