Or perhaps she had decided she no longer cared. She knew by now she had very little chance of marrying, so why not store up memories of happy times to keep her warm in the cold future ahead? For now, she wished to live.
“Of course, my niece should go to the seaside this summer. My Anne would have liked to go with her to take the waters, but her doctor has informed me they would do her more harm than good in her current state. But Darcy, Anne is an excellent cousin and will make a perfect sister to Georgiana. While your sister is at the seaside with her companion, my Anne will write to her regularly. You need have no concerns for her well-being.”
Lady Catherine had spent their entire time in Kent voicing her strong opinions on two topics: One, even now she was deluded into thinking he would marry Anne, and two, his sister was old enough for a summer by the sea. He rolled his eyes at the first but second-guessed his decision about the second.
Darcy looked to see how Richard was taking their aunt’s command, but he was looking thoughtfully at Georgiana, whose eyes flashed eagerly between their aunt and Anne. She looked so hopeful. She was indeed young, but had he not hired a companion for this exact purpose? He wanted his sister to be happy and experience what a girl her age would with her parents, had they lived. Without a mother to take her shopping and sea bathing, Mrs. Younge would have to do. He and Richard liked the woman well enough, and Lady Matlock had sung her praises.
He looked back to Richard and found him returning his gaze with a look that told him he was also changing his mind.
“We will discuss it again Georgiana, and we will let you know our decision.”
“Thank you, Brother!” She threw herself across the room and into his arms. She really was a little girl still, at fifteen. What could be the harm in allowing her to play in the sand and feel the sea breezes? He thought of Elizabeth and how much she would have loved such a holiday when she had been fifteen.
He smiled at his sister, knowing he would allow her to go. Not to Brighton, though, as she had requested. They would find a more tranquil resort town. Perhaps Weymouth or Ramsgate. He would speak to Richard this evening, so they could face their carriage ride back to London in the morning with a united front. He expected his first afternoon back would involve making inquiries into suitable houses to let.
Elizabeth was satisfied with the progress she had made on her young cousins’ paintings and music lessons while Mr. Darcy was away. She missed her friend, but she would not allow herself to be silly over him. She could not let him think she had any tender feelings for him, or he would be frightened away even without the ton’s idle words.
Jane had wished for her to go into society with her each evening, but in the end, she had gone only twice. They joined the Bingleys and Hursts to dine at the home Sir Abraham Topplewight had leased for the Season, followed by a performance of The Taming of the Shrew in a box he had taken for the night. It was one of her least favorite of the Bard’s plays, but she loved the theater.
She sat in the back of the box where she was less visible to other audience members, and she was relieved to hear nothing out of the ordinary in the talk around her. She did hear “Bennet” and “farmer” tied together, but it was neither new nor persistent. Did people care less about her parentage than they had last Season? The spite had been worse when she had been tied to Mr. Cage and then again with Mr. Darcy. Perhaps the ton simply did not wish her to entrap a man above her station but they could tolerate her presence alone. That was an improvement.
The Easter services at St. Helen’s that had followed three days later had been especially thought provoking. She had not suffered anything like her Savior had, and He promised blessings to come in the next world. She had reflected on the Lord’s goodness and how she could serve Him. She did not need acceptance from other people to be a true follower of Christ. Becoming a governess and helping young children make correct choices would glorify Him. Although the ton may not respect the profession, they could not deny governesses served all the finest families. She was moving closer to the inevitability of the position for herself.
Then on Wednesday, Jane had convinced her to go to a musical evening at the home of a friend of Miss Harcombe’s. Elizabeth was hesitant, due to her reception from Miss Bingley’s friend in the past, but she was willing to afford her another chance. Mr. Bingley had gone to watch a fight of some kind with his university friends, and Mrs. Hurst would chaperone her sister and the Bennets.
Matthew and Dinah accompanied Jane and Elizabeth to the party in the Gardiner carriage. The cousins arrived and immediately found Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst speaking with other ladies, several of whom Jane knew, so they were soon part of a comfortable group of about ten women discussing the Season.
“Miss Elizabeth, my brother saw you in the company of Mr. Darcy at Vauxhall Gardens last month, and he heard you are under his protection. Yet I saw you at the theater last week with no Mr. Darcy in sight. I told my brother it could not be true. I am sure you are quite charming, but Mr. Darcy would never—”
“You are of course correct, Miss Petry. Mr. Darcy would never. He and I are friends, and we were at Vauxhall that evening with my aunt and uncle and his cousin.”
“I am relieved to hear it,” another lady said, looking around the group. “Mr. Darcy is such a fine catch, and taking a mistress at this stage of his life could be a signal that he had no wish to select a wife yet.”
The other ladies murmured their agreement. Elizabeth could never hope to understand the morality of the ton. Their implication was that he should marry one of them before taking on a mistress.
“You can have nothing to repine on that score, then, ladies, as the only mention of such an inappropriate subject Mr. Darcy has ever made in my hearing was to make it quite clear that he finds the practice of taking mistresses as dishonoring the lady, no matter what her background or station or his own situation.”
The other ladies seemed stunned into silence.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet, is it?” A lady of middle years but with a striking countenance stood outside their circle, and Elizabeth turned to her and curtsied. The other ladies in the circle curtsied, too. Who was this lady who demanded the respect of the room?
“May I have a word with you?”
“Of course, ma’am.” She followed the stately woman to an empty alcove with some confusion but was relieved to see a warm smile when she turned back to her.
“I appreciate your staunch defense of my nephew’s morals, Miss Bennet. I am Lady Matlock. I believe you have met my son, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.”
Elizabeth smiled, relieved she had not been drawn away to be criticized for her speech.
“I have, my lady. I had met him earlier, but the colonel was at Vauxhall Gardens on the night in question, assuming you heard that entire unsavory exchange?”
“I did. Tongues wag for the most ridiculous of reasons. Still, I understand you have been friends with Darcy for several years, so it was inevitable your names would be linked at some point.”
“Perhaps I am still unused to the ton even after living in London for four years, but I admit it had never occurred to me that anyone would care if Mr. Darcy and I were seen together. As you say, we have been friends for a while, although we had a brief period of misunderstanding. I suppose this Season is the first opportunity most people have had to see us together.”
“Observing you this evening has given me hope, Miss Bennet.”
“Hope, my lady?”