Page 24 of Some Natural Importance (Pride, Prejudice and Romance #3)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

After a day spent immersed in ledgers and papers reviewing the improvements made at Rosings and in Cornwall, Darcy was pleased to walk outside into the cool, crisp autumn air.

His aunt and uncle lived only a few streets away, and the walk would, he hoped, help order his thoughts for the evening ahead.

Georgiana had been in the forefront of his worries for so long, it had been a relief to encounter new areas of focus in the country.

Her letters did not indicate that much had changed in her feelings towards him; her shame had turned to anger, which spared the real villain but instead landed on his shoulders. Now she was mostly silent.

Surprised? He should not have been. Dismayed? Yes.

As he neared Matlock House, Darcy visibly shook himself, clearing his mind of all but pleasant thoughts.

The entry hall on Grosvenor Street was, as always, festooned with fresh flowers. His aunt enjoyed exhibiting her connexions to the best hothouses and arranging artful displays of blooms. That much he could compliment, but the expense, he thought, was wasteful .

“Darcy, what a relief to see you have survived the wilds of...Hertfordshire, was it?”

His uncle’s voice boomed across the maroon and gold sitting room as Darcy entered.

He could still recall its warm greens and yellows from years ago, when he was a boy.

His own father had let the rooms of Pemberley and Darcy House remain as they were after his wife’s death, and since inheriting, Darcy had done only the bare minimum to refresh them; Georgiana’s rooms and his own, some work in the study.

But the second Lady Matlock had redecorated, at no small expense, every room of the earl’s houses in town and in the country, leaving behind little to remind Richard and Valentine of their mother’s presence in their homes.

“Darcy, dear, now we have got you back in town, we shall not let you go,” Lady Matlock called out.

He smiled. As a young man, he had been enthralled by her beauty.

Only twelve years his senior, she retained the soft, perfectly pale complexion and strawberry-blonde hair of her youth.

Her looks had not faded; it seemed she was reinvigorated since launching Cecilia into society, and her daughter could nearly be her twin.

If Lord Matlock had been a gruff father and stern disciplinarian to his two sons, he joined his wife in being a lax and indulgent parent to ‘darling Cecilia.’ What the girl wished for, the girl received, to the point that Valentine once opined he could only make her happy on her birthday if he could find a pair of pink ponies and a live mermaid.

“Hello, Cousin.”

Darcy bit back a sigh and turned. “Hello, Cecilia,” he said, lifting a plump pink hand to his lips. Duty done, he straightened quickly. “You are well?”

She nodded. “You have been missed. I do hope you will set business aside so we shall see more of you.”

Darcy kept his eyes trained on hers, avoiding the bountiful display she was making in her tight bodice. “Of course, I do wish to spend time with Georgiana. ”

She gave him a coy smile. “But you greeted me first, Darcy.”

“Brother?”

“Georgiana?” Darcy startled briefly, hardly recognising the pretty, and prettily made-up, young lady standing a few feet behind Cecilia.

He stepped forward, extending his hands towards his sister.

She took them, but did not fall into his arms as he had hoped.

At least she returned his smile. Odd thing, that he was counting smiles from young ladies these past few days.

“You look very well,” he said. “I have missed you.”

She nodded, more shy in company than reluctant to reply, or so he hoped.

The siblings had little time together before dinner was called and the family made complete by Richard, as well as Valentine and his wife.

Darcy sat in an ugly red and gold chair at the long dining table and provided terse answers, changing the subject from his reasons for ‘dallying in the country’ to his observations on the geography and hunting targets in Hertfordshire.

The ladies waited patiently for the conversation, aided by generous servings of the earl’s best wines and finely cooked dishes, to subside.

His aunt, as always, began the offensive. “Darcy, dear, we are so glad you will be in town for the Atherton’s ball next week. Cecilia has been greatly anticipating your return.”

He had set aside the invitation for the Atherton’s ball, along with a few others, just yesterday.

He had every intention of sending his regrets and returning to Netherfield but announcing his plans would incite all forms of outrage and anger and indignation, and fluttering hands.

So instead he replied, in the kind of prevarication he reserved for family, “I have neglected the post but will look for my invitation.”

If not well pleased, the lady was at least satisfied with his response. Her daughter had more to say.

“We must have you there, Cousin. I have a lovely new gown, ivory with blue trimmings,” Cecilia said, her pale blue eyes boring into him. “Georgiana has such an eye for colour. We found her the most perfect shade of violet for her gown.”

His attention was caught. “Her gown?”

“For the ball!”

“My sister is not yet out,” Darcy said, looking over her head at Georgiana. She appeared embarrassed by the table’s scrutiny. “She attends only family parties until she is of age.”

“I am sixteen now, Brother. Only three years behind Cecilia?—”

“Who was out at eighteen,” he replied, his eyes on his sister but fully alert to the silence around the table.

“Darcy, dear, do let Georgie attend.” His aunt reached for Georgiana’s hand. “She has a beautiful gown, and will be such good company to Cecilia. Of course, she will dance only with you, and with her cousins.”

“Two dances, and I shall return her to home.” Richard tapped two fingers on his knife, a signal from their childhood that a private conversation was needed.

Darcy said nothing but soon rose and followed his uncle and cousins to the drawing room for cigars and port.

He glanced at the clock, as if to count the minutes until he could leave.

He could not recall the last time he had done that, what place he had been.

Netherfield, of course, during his first weeks there.

Before he met the Bennets and found new occupations at Longbourn.

And discovered where Elizabeth took her walks.

“Darcy!” Lord Matlock growled. “Stop your wool-gathering. You fret too much over Georgiana. The girls are more sisters than cousins. Georgiana will attend one ball to better understand what Cecilia will experience this Season, and next year, when she is a married lady, she will guide Georgiana through her first Season.”

“Georgiana is my sister. I am her guardian and any decision to allow her to attend a ball a year or two before she is out is for me alone.”

“I too am her guardian,” Richard said, his tone sharp, no doubt annoyed that Darcy was ignoring his signal to let the argument go. “A dance or two at the Atherton’s ball will not harm her.”

Before Darcy could respond, the door opened and Lady Matlock slipped inside.

She smiled at her husband before settling into the seat closest to Darcy and giving him a long meaningful look.

“Darcy, I am the closest female relation to you and Georgiana, and I have long thought of her as another daughter.

“One evening out will expose her to the London scene Cecilia will enjoy next year. Georgiana needs to grow accustomed to society. While you have kept her sheltered and away from town, keeping company with Cecilia has helped a new joy emerge in her.”

Joy? When had this happened? Georgiana had always striven to please her older, spoiled cousin, who had not always been kind.

One moment she was taunting Georgie that she had had two fathers and a mother while Georgiana had none, and in the next she was sharing a new doll with her.

When Georgie grew tall at thirteen, Cecilia had shamed her for her womanly figure, and had begun treating the younger girl as a rival.

Darcy had hoped for some friendship to grow between them during this month-long visit, but he had made a grievous mistake if a true sisterly alliance had formed.

His brief, shocked nod was instantly taken as acceptance.

“That’s a good man!”

“Belles of the ball.”

“Sisterly support.”

“They are cousins, not sisters,” Darcy interjected.

“For now.”

“Forever, Uncle.” Anger rose in him; he had been with his family for only a few hours, and the topic of his need for marriage and for Cecilia’s suitability to be his wife was ever present. “You cannot pressure me to marry Cecilia. She is my cousin, and my cousin she will remain.”

“Darcy.” His aunt’s voice rose. “Georgiana is a girl prone to melancholy. When she came to us last month, she was in a state of deep unhappiness, angry with herself and with you and fearful of disgracing the family. Cecilia has been a good friend to your sister these past weeks. She has listened to her complaints, dried her tears, and counselled her about the events that occurred in Ramsgate.”

His eyes shot to Richard, standing against the sideboard, staring into a glass of port. Traitor . You can command men to fight the armies of France, but you cannot stand up against your stepmother?

“She also has helped your sister understand your marriage to Anne, and her death, and that of Lady Catherine. Do you realise that she blamed you and thus transferred her affections elsewhere, setting in motion the events in Ramsgate?”

His mind reeled. “Is Georgiana aware that conversation about her mistake, the foolish actions of a young girl, is bandied about this household so freely?”

“The servants know nothing of our private concerns,” Lord Matlock said gruffly. “Family is family, however, and we do as we must for one another.”

‘Do as we must for one another’. Have I not done that before, in wedding Anne?

The earl’s words provided Lady Matlock the opportunity to more fully state the evening’s goal—securing Darcy for her daughter.

She leaned towards Darcy and lay her delicate, bejewelled hand atop his.

He stared at the ruby ring once worn by his late aunt, the warm and kindly Joanna; it was a Fitzwilliam family ring re-sized for the hand of the current Lady Matlock.

Five years earlier, he had given Anne one of the Darcy family rings; Lady Catherine had railed that she should wear the ring her own sister had worn as Mrs Darcy, but he had refrained.

He knew his marriage was a devil’s bargain—taking Anne as his wife to avert a scandal, thwarting any intention of the charlatan healer to return to Rosings, wed Anne, and claim his child.

But it was a bargain that would be short-lived.

His mother’s ring awaited the true Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy, the wife borne of his heart and not of his sense of obligation.

“Georgiana is happy now because of Cecilia’s friendship,” she said in a soft voice that aimed at sincerity. “Your sister would be unhappy to leave. You, my dear nephew, are unhappy as well. Give my daughter the chance to show you what true happiness could be.”

‘Do as we must for one another’. Do as I must for myself. The memory of Elizabeth Bennet, looking up at him with an impish smile, flooded through him.

Darcy stood. “I am capable of finding my own happiness, thank you. I shall always care for Cecilia as my cousin and appreciate the friendship she has shown my sister, whom I have seen little of this evening.” He moved to the door. “Shall we join the rest of the family?”