Chapter Three
Of course, thinking about Laura brought Wickham to her mind, and for several days, she could not stop brooding over all the silly, wrong-headed, abhorrently adolescent things she had thought and said and done. She was sure she would never pick up another novel as long as she lived; she would never have been so fooled if she had not lived on a steady diet of novels all those horrible years at school.
Several days later, she happened upon Mrs Darcy, shortly after Fitzwilliam had disappeared on some matter of business. Georgiana was terrified that her sister-in-law would ask about Laura; instead, she appeared to have forgotten the subject altogether.
'Come, Georgiana,' she said, with a merry smile. 'We are sisters and we have hardly spoken five words together.'
Timidly, Georgiana accepted her arm, and they walked. She could not think of anything to say, but fortunately the silence was soon broken.
'My uncle and aunt could never settle on an age for the house, but of course, you would know.'
It was the easiest subject in the world to speak on. Georgiana forgot her shyness in the flush of pride. 'Oh, it is all rather complicated. Pemberley was originally a fortified manor. Family legend goes that our ancestor, Sir Alain d'Arcy, was a brave knight who fought at the Battle of Hastings and saved the Conqueror's life. He was given most of the property and the manor, though it was in shambles by then — there is something about a fire — and it wasn't properly finished until the 1100s, by his great-great-grandson, I think. Of course, that is only part of Pemberley today, though I know the chapel dates from then. The banqueting hall was added in the fourteenth century, if I remember correctly. The Long Gallery, where all the portraits are, is Elizabethan, and — oh.' She remembered herself. 'I hope I am not boring you. I can get very dull when I talk about family history.'
'My dear Georgiana, Pemberley is my home now; your family is mine. Nothing could interest me more — except your brother, and on that subject I can get unbearably tedious, so let us return to Pemberley. The chapel is really that old?'
'Ye-es, though I think the extra wing was added later.' Georgiana gathered her courage. 'We do not use it any more, it is so small and old, but I could show you, if you would like. Nobody has been there for years but I know where it is.'
Mrs Darcy's face lit up. 'I should love to see it. Is it really over six hundred years old?' She looked like a child with a new toy, and Georgiana could scarcely keep herself from smiling.
'I will take you there, and you can see for yourself.'
The ancient chapel was cluttered with paintings, furniture, and even statues. Nearly everything was covered in a layer of dust. Mrs Darcy sneezed.
'You were quite right that nobody has been here,' she said, with a rueful smile. 'What a beautiful glass.' She carefully wound her way through the room to look at it more closely. 'Oh, look at these books!'
'Books?' Georgiana glanced at them. 'Why, Fitzwilliam must not know these are here. He is so scrupulous about his library.'
'Nobody excludes even Fitzwilliam; he has not been here any more than anyone else has,' said Mrs Darcy with a smile. 'Why are these portraits not in the gallery?'
'They are probably not very good,' Georgiana said. 'Or perhaps they are safer here, if they are very old. I think there is a tapestry — there it is, do you see it?'
Mrs Darcy glanced up at it, looking disappointed. 'It is rather dull, is it not?'
'Yes,' Georgiana said excitedly, 'it is supposed to be hundreds and hundreds of years old. I daren't even touch it.'
'I almost wonder how you live with all of this,' her sister-in-law said. Georgiana blinked. 'The weight of — of knowing all that has gone before, of being responsible for it.'
'Well, that is mostly Fitzwilliam. But it is — well, I always think it is rather wonderful.' She bit her lip. She liked Elizabeth, she really did, but she was practically a stranger and it was impossible to be entirely at ease.
'Oh, there is that too. May I look at the paintings?'
Georgiana blinked. Was Mrs Darcy — the mistress of Pemberley — asking her permission? 'They are as much yours as mine,' she said awkwardly.
She stood a little aside, then tilted her head as she heard a peculiar noise. Leaving her sister-in-law to her raptures, she followed the soft mewing, until she ended up near one of the pews.
'Oh!' It was a cat, or rather a kitten, black and scrawny, almost emaciated. Georgiana promptly forgot all else and knelt on the dusty floor, gently picking it up in her hands. It tried to defend itself, but only managed a limp bite. Georgiana, scarcely knowing what to do, patted its head until it calmed. 'Elizabeth!'
There was no reply. Mrs Darcy was standing motionless in front of one of the portraits, her look very un-Elizabeth-like, even given Georgiana's short acquaintance with her.
'Elizabeth, is something wrong?'
Georgiana herself froze in place when her eyes went to the portrait. It was not poorly executed, and it was not old.
'Why, that is my mother!' she cried.
Indeed it was — a Lady Anne older and wearier than in any image Georgiana had ever seen of her, startlingly like Lady Catherine, but nevertheless her mother. A slender, dark-haired boy stood behind her, and though she had never seen any representation of her brother as a young child, and of course could not remember him as such, she knew it must be him.
'I thought all the other paintings had been destroyed, except Lord Ancaster's,' Georgiana stammered. 'Fitzwilliam said — '
'He must not know — nor your mother's family.' Elizabeth turned, her eyes resting on the pitiful creature in Georgiana's hand. 'Why — did you find that here?'
'Yes, under one of the pews. He looks so hungry — do you think there is anything we can do for him? I'm sure it is not proper but I do not think Fitzwilliam will be angry — '
'Oh!' Mrs Darcy laughed, 'he shan't be, I assure you.'
Georgiana was trembling as she, Mrs Darcy, and the kitten waited outside the study. There had always been a clear division in her mind between Fitzwilliam, the protective elder brother she loved and trusted, and the stern, forbidding Master of Pemberley, whom she held in such awe as to almost overcome her affection. She had rarely dared intrude upon him here, not when he was occupied with important estate business, though he was never cross on the few times that she had interrupted him. But he was hardly cross at all so that did not signify.
She held the kitten protectively; it whimpered a little. She had long strong hands, but even so it was terribly distressing to see him fit in her palm.
'Come in,' said Fitzwilliam. Georgiana's head snapped up and she kept her fingers curled steadily around the cat as they entered the room, her brother glancing up at them. 'Excuse me, Higgins.' Fitzwilliam rose to join the two women. 'Is something wrong?'
Georgiana bit her lip. Mrs Darcy said, without the slightest trace of anxiety,
'In a manner of speaking. There is this little difficulty we require your advice on.'
Fitzwilliam's eyes dropped to Georgiana's hand. Astonishingly, he smiled for a moment, catching his wife's eye briefly. 'I see. You found this pathetic creature, Georgiana?'
'Yes, sir.' She gathered her courage. 'We were in the chapel because Elizabeth wanted to see it and when she was looking at the portrait I heard it and went over and it was under the pew all alone.' She blushed, feeling like a very small, heedless child.
'I see. Well, what do you intend to do?'
'I — I beg your pardon, sir?' She stared at him a moment. 'I — I do not know. I had to take him out of the chapel. He might have died.'
'And he — it — might very well still do so,' he said coolly. 'Carrying it about will not provide the poor thing any nourishment.'
Mrs Darcy frowned at him. He kept his eyes on his sister. 'It must eat, then,' Georgiana said, and bravely added, 'what must I do, brother?'
'We had better go to the kitchens. Higgins, I should return in an half-hour.' He opened the door. 'Ladies?'
Georgiana offered him a shy smile, Mrs Darcy an arch look, and they proceeded out.
'Buttermilk,' Fitzwilliam said decidedly.
'Sir?' The housekeeper stared at him.
'We need buttermilk and some rags.'
She blinked. 'Yes, sir . . . '
'And have the house searched for kittens.'
She hesitated only a moment. 'Yes, sir,' she said again, and bustled off.
Mrs Darcy was smiling, her look both fond and amused. Georgiana gazed at her brother. 'What are you going to do?'
'The question should be what you are going to do, Georgiana,' he told her. 'I did not find this creature; you have taken on its care, you are responsible for it.'
His tone was very stern, but when she dared to meet his eyes, she saw that they were a little crinkled at the corners. 'You do not mind?' she asked.
His mouth twitched. 'Of course not.' More gravely, he added, 'I will never disapprove of an act of kindness, my dear, provided that you consider the ramifications and carry it through to the end. Never leave such an endeavour half-done, however; it is better to do nothing at all than to raise hopes and then dash them, particularly when the recipient of such kindness has no other dependence than on your good will.'
'Yes, sir.' She looked at the kitten soberly, then up at her brother. 'What am I going to do, then?'
'It is too young to eat proper food, even if it had not been half starved. It needs a mother's milk.'
'Oh! Now I understand.' She chewed her lip. 'How do I . . . oh, Mrs Reynolds.'
The housekeeper seemed rather less bewildered than before. 'I'm afraid the mother and others are dead, sir,' she said, looking fixedly at the small black kitten. 'You! John. Put that right here,— right there, in front of Miss Darcy.'
'Thank you, Reynolds,' Fitzwilliam said firmly. 'That will be all.'
'Yes, sir.'
Before she quite knew what had happened, Georgiana was dipping the rag into the milk, and trying to squeeze it into the kitten's mouth. Most dribbled out. Fitzwilliam held the kitten in his hand, as her own was trembling so violently that it did no good at all.
'Like so — do you see now?' he asked.
'Yes, I think.' Carefully, she rubbed the throat as he had done. 'He swallowed! Did you see that? Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth, did you see?'
They smiled. Georgiana glanced over her shoulder at Elizabeth, who stood a little away, watching them with the softest expression she had ever seen on her sister-in-law's face animated face. 'Do you wish to — ' she said awkwardly.
'Oh no,' Mrs Darcy said with a laugh. 'I have no hand with animals; besides, you two make such a charming picture, I would rather admire than intrude.'
Georgiana blushed fiercely, her brother only a little less so. 'It would be no intrusion,' she whispered, before returning to the kitten. After a few minutes of silence, Fitzwilliam's hand and both of hers sticky with spilt milk, he said,
'That should be enough. H — It cannot take very much at present.'
The small black creature, looking distinctly less unhappy, settled in Georgiana's hand with a soft contented purr. She smiled, enchanted. 'Where shall we put him?'
Fitzwilliam sent for a basket and more rags. 'That should be sufficient at present.'
'But if he is not with me, I might not hear him when he gets hungry!'
'You would not hear it anyway,' he said practically. 'You sleep like the dead, Georgiana.'
This was true enough. She sighed and nodded.
'You will take care of him?' she asked Mrs Reynolds anxiously.
'Of course, miss. Don't you fret.'
