Page 14 of Requirements for Love (Love in London with Mr Darcy #3)
He had looked into his own heart and wanted to make improvements. Upon proper investigation, she had been vain and prejudiced. She would do better too.
“You already said you would visit my friend,” Darcy hissed when Sir George Reed hesitated to alight from the carriage Monday evening. “She is a young lady confined to a chaise for days with no company.”
“You are right; I must appear.” Sir George descended but gave a fearful look at his front door. “How long must I stay?”
Darcy gave him a quelling look as they entered. Sir George Reed had little graces of person or address with strangers. “Do you find my hospitality wanting? ”
Sir George shook his head as he handed his coat to a footman. “Not at all. I find my courage in talking to new people wanting.” He swallowed thickly. “And women especially.”
Darcy smiled. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet has pleasant manners that will put you at ease. And you will be more at ease in my home than at the Duchess’s card party.”
Sir George blew out a breath. “That is true. I can survive taking tea with your sister and friend.”
He had not told his friends that they were to be the victims of his sister’s matchmaking plan.
No one truly thought the scheme would progress that far.
But Georgiana would enjoy being helpful to her new friend.
Elizabeth would be entertained by making new acquaintances and having her solitary hours interrupted.
He was the only one who had a small hope that perhaps Elizabeth would find a gentleman to marry her, thus helping him to conquer his attraction to her.
He realised within five minutes that this man would not be Sir George Reed.
After the niceties were done and his sister, with prompting from Mrs Annesley, made the tea, Elizabeth set about to know Sir George.
“I understand you are a great friend of Mr Darcy’s. He mentioned knowing you for many years.”
“Yes.” He paused for a beat. “We are of the same age, in fact.”
Elizabeth continued to smile through the pause when Sir George might have elaborated. Darcy said, “Our parents were close friends, and we ran rampant through one another’s homes throughout our childhood.”
She grinned and then gave Sir George an arch look. “I cannot picture Mr Darcy running wild through anyone’s house, not even his own. Were you so boisterous as that?”
“Not really.”
“Since your families are long-time friends, have you heard Miss Darcy play?” Sir George nodded. “She entertained me this afternoon,” Elizabeth pressed on. “I have never heard a more accomplished performer.”
Darcy noted how Sir George’s straight fingers were always moving, his hands nervous.
Elizabeth noticed it too, and then she locked eyes with him.
Darcy shrugged a subtle apology, and Elizabeth composed her expression into a pained smile.
Hopefully, Sir George’s awkwardness would lessen as the evening went on.
Georgiana rescued them from silence to tell them the tea was ready. They all gathered round the table, and Sir George exerted himself to ask how Elizabeth preferred her tea and offered to retrieve it for her.
“Thank you,” she said as he returned to her side. “You were saying about hearing Miss Darcy play…”
“I heard Miss Darcy play at Pemberley,” Sir George said.
Elizabeth waited for him to say more, perhaps share an opinion on his sister’s skill or music in general, but he only clutched his teacup, rattling the cup in its saucer.
His friend’s social clumsiness was difficult to watch, so Darcy said, “My sister practises diligently. I could not be prouder of how she has applied herself and increased her natural aptitude.” He turned to smile at Georgiana. “Would you play a song or two?”
“Yes, gladly,” she whispered.
She seemed pleased to have a task rather than be forced to make conversation, and he could not blame her. Sir George Reed could not string words together tonight. He had known his friend to be shy with women, and not of a nature to share an opinion. But he was astonishingly awkward with Elizabeth.
“I could never play half so well, even if I practised more,” Elizabeth said quietly to Sir George not long after Georgiana began. “Are you a lover of music?”
“I suppose.”
From this conversation, it seemed music scarcely could interest him, but Darcy knew Sir George enjoyed the opera. But he did not venture an opinion or ask to hear Elizabeth’s.
Elizabeth busied herself with her tea and listened to the rest of his sister’s song. When Georgiana finished and was lauded into embarrassment, Elizabeth struggled on with Sir George .
“Since you are a frequent visitor to Pemberley, is your home in a neighbouring county?”
“Devon, ma’am. Not near, but not a great distance, either.” He then hid his face in his teacup.
“Indeed. What is the distance between friends when one has the means to travel?”
Sir George nodded amiably, but only took another long sip of tea.
“I have never been to Devon,” Elizabeth tried again, “but the landscape must be remarkable. I can imagine steep hills and wild moors.”
“I call it a very fine country,” he said. Sir George then remembered that conversations involved both people asking questions, and he said, “You are in Hertfordshire? Near to where Bingley is leasing a property?”
Elizabeth smiled a little brighter, perhaps feeling like she was finally making progress. “I am, and its landscape is not as picturesque as I imagine Devon to be. But perhaps that is because no one truly appreciates the beauties near their own home the way a tourist can.”
“Very true,” he said, gazing at his own fingers curled around his teacup.
Darcy noted the polite things Sir George did not say that might have helped their conversation. “Do you play or sing?” “What music do you enjoy? I prefer operas to concertos.” “You have never been to Devon? Let me describe the landscape.”
The silence stretched, so he leant a little forward in his chair and said, “If Hertfordshire has no beauties to boast of, what new place would you visit to see something of the picturesque to stir your heart, Miss Bennet?”
She grew thoughtful for a moment. “With no offence to Derbyshire, I think the seaside.”
“You have never been to the sea?” Darcy asked, surprised.
“Not once. My father rarely stirs from home, and I only come to London some winters to see my aunt and uncle.” She gave a wistful smile. “I have always wanted to visit the seaside.”
“Any particular place? Weymouth? Scarborough? Brighton?”
“Is it a little irresolute of me to say it does not matter? So long as I can see waves and walk along a beach, I do not think I care.” Turning to their guest, she addressed Sir George directly, “Does that make me easily pleased or indecisive?”
Sir George shrugged. “I could not say.”
“You are wise not to disparage my character,” she said playfully. “It probably shows my ignorance that I cannot choose one resort place over the other, but you are kind not to criticise me for it.”
Sir George Reed was polite to Elizabeth, but he was not at ease with her.
Considering her beauty and wit, some men might be intimidated by such a woman, preferring to be silent rather than risk sounding less clever or amusing.
Sir George said little else the rest of the evening, and when Elizabeth turned to hide a yawn, he immediately said the hour was late and offered to depart.
Darcy knew Elizabeth would not be too tired if her visitor had been less dull, but he allowed his friend to leave and went with him down the stairs.
“Did you not approve of Miss Bennet?” he asked quietly as his friend collected his hat and gloves.
“What?” Sir George asked. “She is a pretty, lively girl. Why do you assume I dislike her?”
He blinked once. “You hardly said three words to the woman.”
“Do I ever?” he asked, and Darcy realised he was right.
Sir George’s manners required intimacy to make them pleasing.
He was timid in general and more so with women.
Darcy had known him since childhood, and it might take nearly that long for Sir George to be at ease enough with a lady for her to get to know him or to make himself agreeable to her.
Darcy thanked him for keeping Elizabeth company and returned to the drawing room just as his sister was asking Elizabeth, “Did you like him?”
Elizabeth looked at him, distress clear across her features. It was apparent to him she did not.
“You need not dissemble on my account,” he said.
“Was it because he is not very handsome?” his sister asked in a whisper he could easily hear .
“No,” cried Elizabeth. “He is a plain man, but there is something likeable in his expressions that overcame that. But I could not talk to him. I do not know more of his mental and moral qualities, his interests, than I did before he arrived.”
“Sir George is naturally a reticent man. Not unsocial. He is just…” Darcy sighed. “He is reserved, difficult to know.”
His sister looked cast down. “I had hoped he would be kind and write you long letters.”
Elizabeth gave her an indulgent smile. “He likely is kind. How could he not be if he is friends with your brother? And he may write long letters that express his thoughts and feelings well, but he gave me no indication that he wanted to write them to me.”
“Are you disappointed that a baronet did not attract you?” she entreated.
Darcy could see Elizabeth was trying not to laugh.
“I am not in a hurry, you know. And I am glad to make a new acquaintance, even if all we ever do is nod to one another the next time we pass on the street.” She turned to him with an apologetic look.
“I am not disappointed, but I hope you do not think that I dislike Sir George. I just did not feel…”
She blushed, but he did not comment on it or what she said. There was no attraction between them, nothing that would make either of them overcome his reticence.