Page 30 of Regrets

“This is your fault, Mary! You kept her all to yourself the entire evening! I hardly had a chance to speak with her, and you are already on a first-name basis and invited to tea!” Lydia exclaimed.

Mary shrugged and did not bother to respond, but Jane spoke quickly, hoping to soothe Lydia’s ruffled feathers. “There will be plenty of time for you and Kitty to get to know her. I understand she is to be here until Christmas.”

“Well, it will be our turn to host her next,” Kitty said. “And Lydia and I will insist on being present for it.”

“Fair enough,” Jane said.

***

Jane rather hoped that Mr. Bingley would be there, and she decided to dress accordingly. Elizabeth’s brows rose when she saw Jane select one of her favourite blue dresses from her wardrobe. “Is this for Mr. Bingley?” she asked.

Jane coloured, but nodded. “He might be there, you know.”

“I suppose so.”

“And Mr. Darcy might be there as well. I know you do not like him, Lizzy, but be polite. There is no reason to alienate our neighbours.”

“I agree, Jane; I will be everything cordial, I promise.”

“And why does he remind you of Papa? Just because he went to see the library? A man may enjoy reading without being…well, Papa.”

“I know that.” Elizabeth’s voice was clipped.

Jane sighed.

Elizabeth did not respond. Truly, it was impossible for her to explain just how deeply her father had wounded her. She had adored him; he had taught her to read, how to study languages. It had been he who had taught her enough math that she had been able to work out her small sums and her percents. And then – then! – he had actually slammed his door in her face! She had pounded on the study door, but he had ignored her; finally, she had run up to her room to weep.

She had had many years in which to brood on that particular afternoon. She had concluded that her adored father had had so little regard for her future, and for that of her mother and sisters, that he had saved nothing for them until she, however inadvertently, had taught him the error of his ways.

This was not the loving father she had imagined. She understood now that this imaginary father had been nothing but a fantasy; he had never been that man. Since then, he had never explained himself to her, never apologised, never in any way acknowledged his inattention to his family’s needs.

And all these years later, her father was still resentful at having had to sell some of his books to provide for his family! He had even mentioned it to Mr. Darcy at the dinner party! Would it never end?

She could not pinpoint what it was about Mr. Darcy that so reminded her of her father. Perhaps it was the way he so obviously doted on his young sister, just as Mr. Bennet had once doted on Elizabeth. Or perhaps, as Jane had said, it was Mr. Darcy’s obvious interest in books. Would Mr. Darcy spend all his coin on books, rather than on his family’s well-being? She could not know; but she would not trust him, any more than she would trust her father.

***

As it happened, neither Mr. Darcy nor Mr. Bingley were present when Jane and Elizabeth arrived. The drawing room was occupied by just Georgiana and a maid. Elizabeth smiled upon seeing Georgiana order the tea tray, just as if she were a society lady.

Georgiana, seeing Elizabeth’s smile, laughed and said, “It must look odd to see someone as young as me summoning servants! But there is no hostess here, as I told you, so I am serving in that role. Brother thinks it is good training for me, and Mr. Bingley is just glad there is someone to arrange the menus.”

“You do it so naturally, Georgiana!” Elizabeth replied. “I was just smiling to see how well you perform your role.”

“Well, I suppose I have been ordering servants about all my life,” Georgiana admitted, turning red.

“As have we all,” Mary agreed. “Though you very likely have more servants than we do.”

Thinking of the several hundred servants at Pemberley, Georgiana only nodded and offered more tea.

***

When Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy returned from their duties on the estate, they heard the sound of light, happy laughter coming from the drawing room. It is impossible for any young gentleman to ignore the sound of feminine delight, and so Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy exchanged a quick glance and a smile, and then proceeded to find the source of that laughter.

Mr. Darcy saw his sister sitting with Miss Mary on the piano stool, evidently working on some complex fingering. Miss Bennet was beside Miss Elizabeth, and it was evidently Miss Elizabeth’s laughter he had heard. Their heads were together, Miss Bennet’s shining blonde hair and Miss Elizabeth’s dark brown curls, shot through with strands of red, gold and black. Miss Bennet whispered something, and Miss Elizabeth threw her head back in unrestrained merriment. The darkness of her hair against the white column of her exposed throat! Mr. Darcy could not take his eyes off her.

As he walked into the drawing room and bowed, he saw Miss Elizabeth’s expression of mirth fade, to be replaced by wariness. He wondered yet again how he had offended her, but his thoughts were immediately interrupted by his sister.

“Brother!”