Page 13

A surprisingly innocuous question sent the conversation well off the beaten path.

“Do you raise Derbyshire Gritstones at Pemberley? I mentioned them to Mr Schotte on a whim, but I am curious,” Elizabeth asked.

“Curious about sheep or Pemberley?” he replied with a sly grin.

She laughed and shook her finger in mock exasperation. “The latter, I suppose, since I find sheep an exceedingly dull subject. It was the only thing I could think of in the few seconds we had before I introduced you, and I had no idea if you could muddle along without a readymade topic.”

Darcy looked thoughtful. “Out of curiosity, why did you introduce me? You obviously went out of your way to rehabilitate my reputation. I am more than grateful—but why take on the disagreeable task?”

“You heard Mary instruct me with your own ears.”

“You will not put me off so easily,” he said with an answering chuckle and a smile.

The gentleman seemed to be advancing at a good clip from her brown books to neutrality, and perhaps eventually into her good graces.

He was certainly easy to talk to once he abandoned his abominable pride (or whatever it was that made him so taciturn), and his easy amiability when surrounded by the mountain of silliness that constituted the Bennet parlour was no mean feat.

“Miss Mary did not tell you anything. The only thing I saw was her glaring.”

“That was sufficient. You see…” she said with a significant pause.

“…Mary is an aficionado of Fordyce’s sermons.

Believe it or not, she was not close with any of the sisters until we returned from Netherfield.

Jane and I only recently started paying enough attention to determine much of what the good reverend says is quite sensible.

You must balance the good against that which is utter nonsense, but overall, we find Reverend Fordyce better reading than we thought.

That caused Jane and I to afford Mary more respect and attention than we have previously.

We are significantly closer than we were even a week ago, much to our chagrin. ”

She paused to judge whether the gentleman was bored yet and found him staring intently. “All that is neither here nor there. Her look was enough to tell me we had a moral obligation. Since I had no objection, I volunteered.”

“That is a lot to get from a glare! In fact, I would bet your elder sister got no such thing.”

“Can you not get that much from your sister?” she asked in puzzlement. She was describing rudimentary sibling communication. She could get a lot more information from a far subtler look from Jane, since her reconciliation with Mary was so recent.

Darcy sighed, looking dejected. “I fear I cannot. My sister is…” and then he stopped midsentence and spent several moments trying to work out what to say, while Elizabeth waited patiently.

“Georgiana is twelve years my junior… presently sixteen and not out. We inhabited vastly different worlds most of her life. I was at Eaton when she was born, and I might have seen her a few dozen times in the first years. When I was eighteen, I was off to Cambridge and not particularly interested in a five-year-old sister. I am ashamed of that now, but I doubt a better attitude would have made that much difference.”

“Probably not. That is an enormous age gap.”

“We saw each other occasionally on holidays and the like; but she was only ten to my twenty-two when our father died, and I was unexpectedly thrust into the management of Pemberley.”

Elizabeth decided to go where angels feared to tread. “About Jane’s age! I assume you were trained from birth, but… still… is Pemberley significantly larger than Longbourn? I assume it must be.”

Darcy looked sceptical, though his look was not what it would be if he suspected her of mercenary intent, but then again, if he suspected such he would still be at Netherfield.

“About five times, I would say. Your park here is lovely, but Pemberley’s is ten miles around.”

Elizabeth gasped, never having quite done the simple arithmetic involved in ‘ten thousand a year’ when she knew Longbourn generated two at best.

“I am impressed,” she said in some sympathy. “That must have been inordinately difficult.”

“It was!” he said simply, and Elizabeth thought there was unlikely to be much more he would say. She thought the scope of his responsibilities must have been enormous, with hundreds being dependant on his decisions.

She tried to produce a comparison that made sense.

The work and responsibility probably did not increase in proportion to size—but it did increase.

After all, Netherfield was larger than Longbourn, but the master and mistress would not really do very much more (presuming they were both equally industrious or indolent) than her parents.

Pemberley would be much larger, and even trained from birth, it must have been a shock to take over a mantle in his early twenties that he expected to receive in his thirties or forties.

She did not want to dwell on Pemberley too long. “And your sister?”

Darcy sighed again. “I share guardianship with my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, the youngest son of my mother’s brother, the Earl of Matlock.”

Elizabeth nodded in acknowledgement, though she thought that was about treble what she needed to know.

“Georgiana was in school until last summer, so while we are relatively close given our situation… we are nothing like you and your sisters. Add to that the natural gap between the sexes, and we are not close at all. We share a deep familial affection, but do not know each other all that well.”

“You should not feel guilt about that… if you do, that is… presuming I am not sticking my nose where it does not belong,” she said awkwardly.

“Feel free to stick your nose wherever it leads you. I would be grateful for any advice or aid.”

Elizabeth felt the conversation was quite far from what propriety demanded, but she had no idea how to bring it back without seeming dismissive of what must be a difficult subject.

To make sense of his situation, she would have to imagine Charlotte and Lydia, without the four Bennet sisters between.

Even with both being the same sex, Charlotte could barely have a conversation with Lydia, let alone without the help of the elder Bennet sisters.

Charlotte had a similar age gap between herself and her sister Maria, but they had spent all day every day in the same house and shared plenty of chores.

Mr Darcy’s situation sounded very disagreeable. To be honest, she doubted the father’s wisdom in making his young son responsible for the child. An aunt might have been a more sensible choice, but what was done was done, and for all she knew, he did not have a single suitable relative.

“That seems an awkward situation. I can understand your struggle. I can barely understand my sisters and we share the same dinner table.”

He nodded. “It was hard for me, but I never knew if that was a failing of myself or my situation. I suppose it is a bit of both.”

“That is not an unnatural surmise. Perhaps you might have done better, but who can say. Tell me about her.”

Darcy warmed to the tale. “Georgiana is sixteen. She is an excellent musician and plays the pianoforte much better than any girl her age has a right to and makes a good showing with the harp. Her voice is… not so melodious as yours, but quite good.”

Elizabeth found herself smiling at the fact that he found her singing better than a scalded cat (or his sister was truly terrible).

“Her biggest problem is her shyness.”

“How so?” Elizabeth asked, already thinking about how she could help the poor girl. It seemed obvious she would have to, since being raised by two bachelors was only marginally better than being raised by wolves.

“If a scientist decided to make a boldness versus shyness scale, he could use Georgiana for the zero point, and Miss Lydia for 100.”

Elizabeth burst into laughter, and it was some time before she could get it under good regulation.

Darcy, for his part, was happy he could make her laugh, and he joined her mirth, though with less overt enthusiasm.

“I suppose she finds it difficult to exhibit?”

“Impossible, more like.”

“Not the end of the world. Lydia cannot exhibit, but for the opposite reason. She has not the slightest skill, talent, or inclination to learn.”

“I cannot reasonably comment on how others raise their children, given my lack of success,” he said with a dejected frown.

“But you can comment on your own.”

He sighed. “She has no friends her own age. Bingley’s sisters are much older, and certainly not suitable as role models… even if they did not spend all their time—” He stopped abruptly.

Elizabeth laughed, “Do not be so timid. It is just us here. You were going to imply they spent all their time fawning over her to get their claws into you!”

Darcy laughed uproariously, though not loud enough to scare poor Mary, who was still happily ensconced on the bench.

He finally said, “Not implying… stating it as a fact!”

“When I was fifteen, Charlotte was my only friend, and she is seven years older. Your sister will learn in her own time. It sounds like you are doing well enough.”

She noticed the last made the gentleman startle enough to make her wonder if she had hit a bit too close to the mark.

He finally said, “No, that is not the least bit true. Last summer, at her request, I removed her from school and set her up with a companion. They went to Ramsgate on holiday, where she was importuned by a rogue who convinced her she was in love with him, and they should elope. I only stopped it by chance because I visited her unexpectedly several days early.”

“ Oh no! ” Elizabeth gasped, and took hold of his hand in sympathy, (not noticing he never let it go).

He stared at the ground. “She has never been the same, and I have no idea how to help her. I hope you and your sisters can make some improvement.”

“We will give it our best. Would you be willing to discuss it with Jane, Mary, Charlotte, and me. You can count on our discretion.”

“Certainly! I already trust you and your elder sisters, and your word about Miss Lucas is good enough for me.”

Elizabeth said emphatically. “Do not be downcast. You only saved her by the skin of your teeth, but that is sufficient. Bring her here. We will befriend her, and I do not doubt we can help. She will have to get over her shyness just to survive if she spends much time at Longbourn.”

Darcy smiled, and Elizabeth thought he looked exceedingly handsome. “It will mean the world to us.”

She gave him a mischievous smile. “It is no trouble at all. Befriending the sister should be a tenth as hard as the brother, and we seem to be doing well enough with him.”

He looked at her intently. “Are we friends, Miss Elizabeth?”

She stared, not having given the matter that much thought, but convinced the answer was especially important. It seemed certain Mr Darcy was a man without very many true friends, and despite his great wealth, she suspected he was lonelier than anybody would likely believe.

“Of course we are… presuming you want to be,” she said, now nervous that the suggestion was explicit rather than implied. Worse yet, she had spoken before him, which would make Reverend Fordyce turn over in his grave.

“I most definitely want to be,” he said seriously.

“You are aware that women and men of marriage age must be careful with their friendships; but so long as nobody has any unreasonable expectations, all shall be well.”

He raised an eyebrow questioningly, so she elaborated.

“Come now, Mr Darcy. Do not be shy. I know you were embarrassed by my overhearing you say we are not suitable for men of your stature. It was a mean-spirited thing to say, but it is true, and everyone except my mother understands. I believe we can be friends without any true difficulty.”

Darcy stared at her contemplatively for some time, until Elizabeth started to fidget.

“Did I say something wrong or is something else bothering you. I cannot claim to be able to read you well, but you look like I could light a fire on your forehead.”

He started to speak several times but could not quite get going.

“Come, come, sir. You clearly have something to add.”

He finally cleared the logjam in his throat. “What I wish to say will seem ill-advised, or precipitous at the very least.”

Intrigued but aware the gentleman was far more nervous than the topic seemed to warrant, she decided a tease was the proper response.

“By all means, hold your tongue. I can see why you would choose delay—since timidity and silence worked so well for you this morning.”

He stared, while she wondered if she had taken it too far. Actually, she knew she had taken it too far but was uncertain how much.

He finally said, “I am thrilled to be your friend. It is quite something, considering you probably would have happily poked my eye out with a spoon this morning,” finishing with a grin, though it did not catch fire as he might have hoped.

“That is all forgiven and forgotten. Now, put on your brave face! Out with it!”

“I would like permission to call on you.”

Elizabeth stared. “I am perplexed. I should think it obvious you are welcome at Longbourn anytime.”

He looked frustrated. “I do not want to call on Longbourn. I want to call on you! ” he said definitively.

Elizabeth startled, unable to wrap her mind around the statement despite it being perfectly clear English.

“For what purpose?” she finally said to gain time.

“The only purpose a single man calls on a single woman: courtship. More specifically, I would like to court you with the goal of marriage.”

Elizabeth stared in confused wonder.

“Now you see why I worried about being presumptuous or precipitous,” he whispered.

Elizabeth started to speak a few times but could not get the words out.

Mary finally innocently broke the tableau. “Lizzy, it is growing cold.”