Page 30 of Mission to Meryton (Pride and Prejudice Variation #25)
Georgiana Darcy was cowering.
She had slept late after the fatiguing journey from Pemberley and was descending the main stairs when she heard the strident voice of her aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, yelling for her brother.
Georgiana had fled back upstairs and hidden first in her bedchamber and then in her private sitting room, though she had mustered the courage to ask her maid to fetch her some breakfast. Now she sat munching toast and drinking tea, quivering inwardly.
Lady Catherine was imperious and bossy and always asked tiresome details about Georgiana’s music progress. Georgiana did not wish to see her!
She wished, forlornly, that either Mrs. Annesley or Mrs. Younge was here to support her in her time of need, but the former had been given leave to deal with some business affairs in the city, and the latter was returning to her position in the British government.
At least her maid, Eugenia, was rustling around in the adjacent bedroom, which helped Georgiana feel less alone.
The door opened abruptly, and Georgiana leaped up in relief at the sight of her tall brother.
“Fitzwilliam!” she squeaked. “Is Lady Catherine still here?”
“No, she is not, sweetling,” Darcy declared, startling her considerably by sweeping forward and hugging her fiercely. “She left five minutes ago.”
Georgiana gazed up at her brother in astonishment. He was always affectionate and kind, but she had rarely – no, she had never – seen him looking so happy.
“What happened, Brother?” she inquired in a dazed tone.
“Do sit down, Georgie! It is the most marvelous news, and an answer to prayer! Cousin Anne has eloped!”
For a moment, Miss Darcy of Pemberley gaped at her brother with alarmed concern. Was her brother quite insane? “Cousin Anne eloped? With whom? Is that not completely improper? Will there not be a terrible scandal?”
Darcy sobered slightly at this. “Perhaps it is rather scandalous, dearest, but I am hopeful it was for the best. She has run off with a very respectable curate, who is the fourth son of a knight in Kent; the man, a Mr. Fitzroy, was providing spiritual guidance for Hunsford while Lady Catherine was seeking the appropriate man to appoint to the living.”
Georgiana frowned, her mind grappling with this information. “Why was he not given the living?”
A sly smile formed on her brother’s face.
“I gather, based on Lady Catherine’s description, that Mr. Fitzroy does not treat her with the obsequious devotion that she feels she deserves.
Furthermore, Anne’s intended is fond of preaching about the equality of all in the sight of God, and the need to assist and succor the poor and downtrodden around us. ”
“He sounds very brave,” the girl said in awe.
Darcy laughed openly now. “Yes, based on our aunt’s vociferous criticisms, Mr. Fitzroy is bold, dedicated, and intelligent. I do not know him, of course, but even LadyCatherine admits he is no fortune hunter, and he will treat Anne well.”
“But why an elopement? Why not marry in Hunsford? Our cousin is of age to make her own choice in marriage.”
“But Lady Catherine would have protested loudly, and forbidden the current rector to perform the ceremony, and summoned our uncle Matlock from London, and generally wreaked havoc. No, it is quite obvious that the only way for Anne to marry this man was to creep away and not return until the marriage vows were completed.”
Georgiana’s mind shifted now, and she regarded Darcy with curiosity. “I assume that given your pleasure in this turn of events, you do not wish to marry Anne?”
“I do not. In fact, only last night I was praying that God would make it clear whether I could follow my head and heart, or whether I needed to take on the responsibility of Master of Rosings by marrying Anne. I could never have imagined that the Lord on High would answer so rapidly!”
“Where is your heart leading you, Brother?” Georgiana asked shyly.
His expression was suddenly serious, and he sat down and drew her next to him. “Georgie, my darling, I have come to realize that … that I am quite in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. Do you think that you would like having her as a sister?”
The girl froze in shock for a moment and then squealed in delight, throwing her arms around her brother’s broad chest. “Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Fitzwilliam, I am so happy! You have no idea ... I truly longed for such a thing but did not imagine it was possible. Elizabeth is so kind and smart and intelligent and bright and clever! I am overjoyed!”
“I am glad this plan meets with your full and enthusiastic approval,” Darcy returned with a chuckle. “I know that Miss Bennet and two of her sisters are here in London now at the home of their uncle, and I will call on them tomorrow morning and ask the lady to marry me.”
He was surprised to see a small frown pucker the space between Georgiana’s eyebrows.
“What is it?” he asked, puzzled.
“Brother,” she said slowly, “are you assuming that she will say ‘yes’ merely because you will offer for her?”
Darcy gazed at her in astonishment.“Of course! I am most eligible in both my connections and my wealth, and I hope it is obvious that I am a gentleman in my habits and my responsibilities. I will be a very good husband to her.”
Now his young sister shook her head decidedly. “That is not enough, Brother. I have been corresponding with her for these last months, and I know that she wishes to marry only for true affection. It is not enough that you love her, she must also love you. Do you think she loves you?”
He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it with a snap. In truth, it had not even occurred to him that Miss Bennet would consider rejecting him, Fitzwilliam Darcy, master of Pemberley, with his ten thousand pounds a year …
Except, was that not partly why he was attracted to the lady?
Elizabeth Bennet had never kowtowed to him, never simpered, and never showered him with fulsome praise.
She was an intelligent young lady, beautiful, and moderately wealthy.
Her ties to trade would limit herprospects a little, but there were literally dozens of men who would be pleased to marry such a woman as Elizabeth.
He felt suddenly faint with dismay. His early interactions with Miss Bennet had been negative – indeed, he had insulted his darling the very first day they met!
Since then, they had played chess, and discussed Shakespeare, and worked together to defeat a French spy, and he thought she quite liked him now, but was that enough to turn her heart to love?
Or would she desire a more cheerful, less fractious husband like his friend, Charles Bingley?
His feeling of relief and triumph turned, and he realized that asking Elizabeth to marry him was insufficient; he must win her heart.
/
Gardiner Residence
Cheapside
“Your coffee, Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth said, handing over the steaming cup to their morning visitor.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet,” Wickham replied with a gleam of his even white teeth, and then turned back to Lydia, who was seated next to him on the couch.
“I have not, I confess, spent much time reading Shakespeare, though my friend Darcy, being far more intelligent and bookish than I am, seems to have memorized many of them.”
“I used to find plays quite dull myself,” Lydia agreed cheerfully, “but that was before I knew Miss Darcy. Do you know, the very first time I met her, she stood up and voiced Lady Macbeth’s mad scene?
It was absolutely delightful, Mr. Wickham!
The way she used her voice and her hands was amazing!
That is why I enjoyed The Tempest last night so much – not the words themselves, though they are splendid, but the way the actors and actresses use their voices and forms to give the words life!
I am so looking forward to my own elocution lessons, which will start next week! ”
“That does sound most delightful, Miss Lydia. I am pleased you are finding pleasant occupation in London even if you are not yet formally being presented to society.”
“Oh, I am having a delightful time! Lizzy and Mary are having such wonderful dresses made, and it is great fun going to the dressmakers with them, and Mama even is allowing me to get two new dresses of my own.”
“I am glad you find the dressmaker enjoyable,” Elizabeth said. “I find the process of fittings to be quite tedious.”
“It is rather hard to stand still for so long,” Lydia conceded, “but there is so much that goes into the process of making elegant clothing – the knots, the buttons, the length of the sleeves and the like. Of course, I suppose such things are dull to a gentleman.”
“Miss Lydia, how can you say such a thing?” Wickham inquired with mock horror.
“Do you not know that many a gentleman spends hours tying his cravats, being forced into his coats, and admiring the shine of his own boots? I assure you that some of the dandies in society spend most of their waking hours considering their apparel.”
Lydia gurgled happily. “I do hope I will see some of them someday, though in truth, I cannot imagine anyone looking as wonderful as you military men do in your red coats.”
“Thank you, Miss Lydia, I quite like the color red myself.”
Elizabeth exchanged an amused glance with her aunt, Mrs. Gardiner, but was content to let Wickham and Lydia carry the bulk of the conversation. She found her eyes drifting to Wickham frequently, not because she was attracted to him, but because she was not.
It was an odd thing, really. She admired Mr. Wickham very much. He was handsome and charming, and he was also brave. He and Mr. Darcy had successfully captured French spies and kept the Bennet tulips safe. He was an admirable man.
Yet, when she looked at Mr. Wickham, her mind kept veering off to consider Mr. Darcy.
The master of Pemberley was also extremely handsome, along with being tall and rich.
Except, it was not those attributes that made Elizabeth’s heart beat faster when she thought of the man.
It was something else, something more ephemeral and yet powerful.
Darcy was intelligent, well read, and courageous.
He was also awkward in company and seemed to struggle in dealing with the rest of the world.
Darcy was real , in a society where most people wore masks.
Even Wickham wore a mask, though Elizabeth could not fault him for it; after all, the man was an agent for the Crown.
Elizabeth sighed inwardly. Her fascination with Mr. Darcy was a foolish and inconvenient one, since the man was apparently pledged to be married to his cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh.
Even if for some reason that marriage did not take place, she was quite certain he would marry some woman inhabiting the highest echelons of English society.
She knew her own worth very well, and was not ashamed of her family, but Darcy was a man with a deep sense of responsibility toward his family, his sister, and his estate.
She was sadly certain that he would never even consider marrying a Bennet of Longbourn.
“Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy,” announced a maid.