Page 10 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious “Miss B”

Elizabeth

T he following morning found Elizabeth and Lydia seated at the small table by Jane’s bedside, playing cards whilst their sister slept.

Jane’s colour had improved overnight, though she still winced when she moved too quickly.

The surgeon had pronounced himself satisfied with her progress but insisted she remain abed for at least another day.

“Piquet again?” Lydia whispered, gathering the cards with practised ease.

“If you wish,” Elizabeth replied, though her attention was divided between the game and Jane’s peaceful breathing. “Though I confess you’ve already beaten me soundly twice.”

“Papa taught me well,” Lydia said with a fond smile that no longer brought tears to her eyes, though a shadow rushed over her face. “He said a lady should know how to play cards properly, lest she embarrass herself in company.”

Before Elizabeth could respond, the sound of carriage wheels on gravel drew their attention to the window. A smart travelling coach had pulled up to Netherfield’s entrance, bearing what appeared to be a single passenger.

“That must be Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth observed, watching as a slight figure in a dark blue pelisse descended from the coach with the assistance of a footman. Following her was an older woman—the attendant.

Lydia pressed her face to the glass. “She looks very young. And rather nervous, poor thing.”

Indeed, from their vantage point above, Georgiana Darcy appeared to hesitate at the bottom of the steps, glancing around as though uncertain of her reception.

She was petite and graceful, with fair hair visible beneath her bonnet, and carried herself with the careful deportment of someone conscious of being observed.

“I wonder where Mr Darcy is,” Elizabeth mused. “Surely he would wish to greet his sister upon her arrival.”

“He and Mr Bingley rode out early this morning,” Lydia informed her. “I saw them from my window just after dawn. They said something about inspecting the tenant cottages. I think Miss Darcy was not expected until later.”

Elizabeth turned to her. “But Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley left as well an hour ago. That means…”

They looked at one another and without speaking, dashed to the door. Elizabeth was not going to have this young woman be greeted by none other than Mr Hurst, who—while not a brute—lacked manners and could be overbearing whenever he was awake. A circumstance that rarely came to pass, thankfully.

They rushed down the stairs and came upon Mr Hurst and Miss Darcy. His red, ruddy face was sweaty. From what effort, Elizabeth could not tell. Beside him, Miss Darcy blinked at them through long lashes.

“Ah! There you are. Very well. Miss Bennet, Miss Lydia,” Mr Hurst said with uncharacteristic formality, “may I present Miss Georgiana Darcy? Miss Darcy, these are the Miss Bennets—their sister took ill and is a guest at present.” Turning to Elizabeth he added “I explained that Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley are away, as are my wife and sister-in-law.” He looked as though her was quite put out by this and given his generally lacking social graces, Elizabeth understood.

Georgiana stepped forward with a nimble curtsey. “How do you do? I am so pleased to make your acquaintance. My brother has written about your family in his last letter.”

Her voice was soft and musical, with a slight tremor that betrayed her nervousness. Elizabeth rose and curtsied in return, struck immediately by the young lady’s natural elegance.

“The pleasure is ours, Miss Darcy. Your brother mentioned you would be joining us. I hope your journey was not too taxing?”

“Not at all, thank you. Though I confess I am rather travel-weary.” Georgiana’s eyes moved uncertainly between Elizabeth and Lydia. “I do hope I am not intruding when your sister is ill?”

“Jane is much better today,” Lydia said. “She fell down the stairs two nights ago—such a dreadful crash! But she is recovering nicely. Are you very tired? You look it.”

Elizabeth winced slightly at Lydia’s bluntness, but Georgiana seemed more amused than offended.

“I am a little tired,” she admitted with a small smile. “And perhaps a touch nervous. I have not had much opportunity to make new acquaintances of late.”

“Well, that shall soon be remedied,” Lydia declared. “Elizabeth and I have been playing cards, but it grows tedious with only two players. Do you know piquet?”

“I do, though I fear I am not very skilled at it.”

“Neither are we. Why don’t we go to the drawing room? You can refresh yourself and meet us there. We can have hot drinking chocolate and biscuits,” Lydia offered as though she owned the house.

“I would like that.”

A half hour later, Elizabeth and Lydia had retrieved the cards from Jane’s chamber, ordered their refreshments, and set up a game of cards when Georgiana joined them.

As she did, Elizabeth noted how much she resembled her brother.

The same high cheekbones, the same nose and eyes.

Yet, Miss Darcy was all humility and exhibited none of her brother’s earlier arrogance.

For someone who thought he had been a poor guardian, he had done well.

“Your brother mentioned you spent time in London,” Elizabeth said. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Parts of it,” Georgiana replied. “The museums and concerts are wonderful. But it can be rather lonely at times, especially when Fitzwilliam is away. I much prefer Pemberley, our estate in Derbyshire.”

“Fitzwilliam?” Lydia looked up from the cards with interest. “Is that Mr Darcy’s Christian name? How formal it sounds!”

“Yes, though I usually call him William when we are alone. He was named for our grandfather.”

“I see,” Lydia replied. “Say, have you any sisters?”

“No, it is just William and myself. Our parents died some years ago.” Georgiana’s voice grew quieter. “William has been both brother and guardian to me since our father’s death.”

Elizabeth noticed how Lydia’s face softened with understanding. “We lost Papa a few months ago.” She looked down at the table, past the cards in her hand. “It is dreadful.”

“Indeed, it is. Though I was much younger when it happened—only twelve. I can hardly remember what it was like before. It must be almost harder when you have clear memories.”

Elizabeth placed her cards down, got up, and walked to the window.

Behind her, Lydia and Georgiana talked a little more about losses but then, quite naturally, their conversation changed and became rather more pleasant.

Lydia spoke of her sisters while Georgiana explained her family’s circumstances, giving and account of her various cousins and their exploits.

The two had quite forgotten Elizabet, she realised.

She took her seat in a nearby chair and watched as the two girls started a game of cards together. Lydia looked up, smiled to acknowledge Elizabeth, and then pushed an entire biscuit into her mouth, sending Georgiana into giggles.

The morning went on that way until, a quarter to eleven, the front door opened and footsteps disburse. One faded away in the direction of the study, while another neared with rapid pace.

“Georgiana?” Darcy’s voice sounded and Elizabeth looked up.

He appeared in the doorway, slightly windblown from his ride, his face lighting up at the sight of his sister. Behind him came Bingley, looking equally pleased.

“William!” Georgiana rose and embraced him. “I arrived earlier than expected.”

“I can see that. I trust the journey was comfortable?” He kissed her cheek. “Miss Elizabeth, Miss Lydia, I hope my sister has not been troublesome.”

“Not at all,” Elizabeth replied. “She has been delightful company.”

“Georgiana,” Bingley called in greeting. “What a pleasure. It has been an age.”

“An age and a half,” she replied and it was clear they knew one another well.

“I beg your pardon for stealing away your brother. I hope you have been entertained?”

“Thoroughly. Lydia and Elizabeth are so dear.”

“We’ve been playing cards,” Lydia added, gesturing to their abandoned game.

“I see,” Darcy said with a slight smile. “Georgiana, are you very tired from travelling?”

“Not particularly. Why?”

He looked at Bingley.

“I thought perhaps you might enjoy a game of pall mall. There is a court in the back that has been wretchedly ignored.”

“I love pall mall,” Georgiana exclaimed. “Do you play?”

Lydia shook her head. “Never, but I dare say I am eager to learn.”

Georgiana looked back at Darcy. “Let us play. Mrs Annesley is seeing to my trunks as it is. We could all play, the five of us.”

Bingley raised his hands. “I must remove myself from the equation. I would like to, but I promised Miss Bennet a bowl of fresh gooseberries if we found any while out, and we did. A stroke of luck to find them in early April, I am told.”

Darcy glanced at Elizabeth. “Found is perhaps generous. We searched for a half hour and road through rather a menacing field.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “Pray, what menacing fields are there in Hertfordshire?”

“Fields of flowers full of bees, naturally,” he replied with a smile.

“Ah, you found Mr Morris’ lavender field then,” Lydia said and nodded.

“Papa always told me to avoid it if I did not want to look like one of Mama’s pincushions.

” Her smile disappeared suddenly and the familiar darkness descended.

Elizabeth took a step forward but before she could say anything, Georgiana had taken her hand.

“Well, we shall all be advised to avoid it. Now, shall we play?” she asked and pulled Lydia forward and seemingly away from the abyss into which she had been about to fall.

She and Darcy exchanged a look and the corner of his lips turned up. “Well, the young ladies have spoken. Shall we follow?”

He proffered his arm and she took it, grateful for Georgiana’s interference.

***

Twenty minutes later, they were arranged on Netherfield’s lawn with mallets in hand. Elizabeth and Lydia faced the Darcy siblings across the pall mall course.

“I should warn you,” Darcy said, selecting his mallet with care, “Georgiana learned to play at Pemberley. She is rather good.”

“I am not,” Georgiana protested. “I haven’t played in months.”

“She’s being modest,” Darcy informed them. “She once beat our groundskeeper, who takes pall mall very seriously indeed.”

Elizabeth studied the course. “Perhaps we should propose a wager.”

“What sort of wager?” Lydia asked with interest.

“Losers must perform a forfeit chosen by the winners,” Elizabeth suggested.

“Agreed,” Darcy said promptly.

The game began with Lydia taking the first shot, which went reasonably straight, though she had only ever observed, not played herself. Georgiana followed with precision that belied her modest protests. When Elizabeth’s turn came, she found Darcy standing nearby.

“Any advice?” she asked.

“Aim for where you want to end up, not just where you want to go.”

Elizabeth glanced at him. “Philosophy or strategy?”

“Both.”

She took her shot, which flew wide. “It seems I am better at giving advice than following it.”

“This time,” Darcy replied. “There will be other chances.”

As the game progressed, Elizabeth became increasingly aware of Darcy’s presence.

Away from drawing rooms and formal dinners, he seemed different—more relaxed, quicker to smile.

When he encouraged Georgiana or teased Lydia about her competitive spirit, Elizabeth caught glimpses of the man beneath the reserve.

“Your turn, Miss Elizabeth,” Georgiana called.

This shot proved more successful, and small thrill of satisfaction rushed through her as she watched her ball passed through the hoop cleanly.

“Well done,” Darcy said, and the tenderness in his voice sent an unexpected flutter through her.

“Beginner’s luck,” she replied, though she was pleased by his approval.

“I doubt that. You strike me as someone who improves with practice. And someone who does take advice better than formerly claimed.”

Elizabeth swallowed a lump. “We shall see.”

Despite her stroke of good luck, the Darcy siblings won decisively, much to Lydia’s vocal dismay.

“Utterly defeated,” she declared. “What forfeit do you demand?”

“A recital,” Georgiana said with delight. “One of you must play the pianoforte after dinner.”

“How ruthless victory makes you,” Elizabeth observed.

“I learned from the best,” Georgiana replied, glancing at her brother with affection.

As they walked back towards the house, Darcy fell into step beside Elizabeth.

“Thank you,” he said, “for being so kind to Georgiana.”

“She is easy to like.”

“Still, I am grateful. She has been rather isolated of late. Your friendship means a great deal to her.”

Elizabeth glanced at him. “And to me as well.”