Elizabeth must have given the seating arrangements very careful consideration, Georgiana reflected, given the various personalities of the guests at the dinner table. Georgiana herself was near the head of the table, between her brother and Richard, while Mr. Wickham and his wife were near the foot, where Elizabeth sat. The man no longer frightened her as much as he had, but was pleased to be too far for conversation.
Richard noticed her surreptitious glance in Mr. Wickham's direction. "Do not fret, dear one. He can do nothing to you."
"I am not anxious," she assured her cousin. "I am mostly angry."
He smiled. "Understandably." He patted her hand. "Your best revenge is to show him that his presence does not bother you—and for him to see how happy you are."
"Good idea," Georgiana smiled at him.
As she leaned forward to grasp her wineglass, her eyes happened to catch Mr. Wickham's. He gave her a knowing smirk that was no doubt intended to unsettle her. Georgiana did feel a chill travel down her spine, but she did not want to let on.
With a bit of a smile, she leaned over to Richard and whispered in his ear. "Shall we make the scoundrel self-conscious by laughing about him?"
Richard's eyes darted to the officer, who was watching them warily. Then he exchanged glances with Georgiana, and they both burst into laughter. She found that it was actually quite humorous, knowing that he was unaware of the source of their amusement. When she did venture a glance at Mr. Wickham, he was staring fixedly at his plate, but the tips of his ears were red, a sure sign that he noticed their attention.
However, Aunt Catherine, seated across from Georgiana, shot them both a disapproving glare. Excessive merriment was unwelcome at the supper table as far as she was concerned. Unfortunately the gift of her aunt's attention was a double-edged sword. She raised her eyebrows disdainfully at her niece. "My dear, we were so surprised that you left Rosings Park as abruptly as you did."
All vestiges of mirth fled. Georgiana fixed her eyes on her food, taking up her utensils again. "I found as the yuletide season grew closer I could not bear to be away from Pemberley. I have always been here for Christmas."
Her eyes flickered to William. Was he angry with her for her precipitous departure from Rosings? His face was impassive, but she saw no shadow of disapproval in his eyes.
"You barely had an opportunity to make the acquaintance of Mr. Worthy or Viscount Barrington." She gestured to the two men. "You know, the viscount's ancestral estates are right here in Derbyshire."
This was at least the fourth time her aunt had relayed that information—as if propiquinty would be the primary criterion for choosing a husband. "Indeed? How interesting," Georgiana focused on cutting her meat into smaller and smaller pieces. In truth she found Lord Robert intriguing. While Mr. Worthy was impossible in every way, the viscount was handsome and well-spoken. But Georgiana had not had much of an opportunity to speak with him alone; her aunt was always present, directing the conversation.
Lord Robert smiled and looked about to speak when Mr. Worthy interjected, "My family's land is in Kent. It is very fertile."
William seemed to catch something in his throat and coughed loudly into his napkin.
"We have implemented all of the latest techniques in crop circulation."
One of William's eyebrows rose. "Crop rotation?"
"Exactly!" Mr. Worthy beamed at William as if he were a small child who had answered a math problem, rather than a powerful landowner who had corrected the other man's inaccurate language.
William hid his irritation by applying himself assiduously to his potatoes.
"Mr. Worthy's mother and I are great friends," Aunt Catherine intoned.
Is that the only reason Aunt Catherine is imposing this man on me? Wondered Georgiana. She could not possibly believe we would make a good match.
She would have preferred to familiarize herself with the viscount, but he had become involved in a conversation with Mr. Bennet. Richard was engaged in discourse with Mrs. Wickham, so he could not help. Mr. Worthy regarded Georgiana like an eager puppy, awaiting her next words. Her palms grew sweaty. She had never claimed much expertise in the art of making conversation. What did Miss Annesley always say? "You may always ask the other person about his or her life. Everyone loves to talk about himself."
Georgiana wiped her mouth with a napkin and addressed Mr. Worthy directly. "What sorts of crops do you plant on your estate?"
The man straightened up in his chair and beamed at her. "Well, in our North fields we have wheat, although the steward has suggested switching those to corn. That could increase the yield by up to twelve percent. The east fields were fallow last year, but now we have them planted with a heartier variety of potatoes. And then in the west. Oh, I should add that one of the east fields is dedicated to barley because my steward thought…"
Half an hour later the occupants of one end of the table were still listening to the fascinating tales of Mr. Worthy's adventures in crop rotation. He related them with the superior air of someone who was condescending to share great pearls of wisdom that they should be grateful to receive. Georgiana cast a sidelong glance at her brother; even his eyes were glazing over—although he could usually converse on such subjects in great depth. Of course, this was a monologue rather than a discussion.
"…of course the market in rye has declined." Mr. Worthy paused to take a breath, but Georgiana had been waiting to pounce on the slightest lull.
"And what do your tenants think about such improvements?" She asked the man. Surely Mr. Worthy's improvements had created a vast deal more work for them.
"The tenants?" He echoed as if he had never heard the word before.
"Have they been supportive of all the changes?" She asked. Both Richard and William were now watching with avid interest. They must have had the same thought.
"W-why yes—Of-Of course! I believe so…." He stammered.
In other words, he had never asked them. William always emphasized the importance of working with the tenants and involving them in any major changes on the estate. After all, it was their livelihood.
Mr. Worthy's briefly troubled expression gave way to one of renewed enthusiasm. "Oh, and I neglected to tell you about the new fertilizer we have been experimenting with!" Georgiana cast a look at her aunt for help, but the older woman's eyes were closed. Good gracious, the man had managed to put her to sleep at the dining table!
This would not do. If Georgiana had to sit through the man's ramblings, then her aunt must suffer as well. She glanced around the table for tools with which to enact a plan. Her eyes fell on a metal cover keep some rolls warm.
Reaching out her fork as if she were stretching her arms, she allowed the utensil to fall on the cover with a loud clatter. The noise startled Aunt Catherine awake with a jerk.
"As I was saying," she declared quite loudly to Mr. Worthy, "Georgiana is an accomplished player of the pianoforte. She will oblige us with some music after dinner."
"How wonderful!" Lord Robert chimed in. He had been speaking with Mr. Bennet on his other side, but now was taking fresh interest in their discourse.
Georgiana was not fond of being ordered around, but she was accustomed to her aunt's imperious ways, and anything was an improvement over the lecture on fertilizer. She seized on the change in subject. "Are you very fond of music?" She asked Mr. Worthy.
"Music?" He stared into space with an abstracted expression. As if she had given him a very foreign and exotic fruit to taste. "Music…hmm…I am not sure…." He frowned. "I suppose it can be acceptable to me…in small doses."
Georgiana and Richard exchanged a glance; his expression was so comical, she had to stifle a laugh behind her napkin.
"I love music," Lord Robert declared decisively. "I am particularly fond of Mozart."
Georgiana smiled at him to thank him for the rescue. "Yes, Mozart is one of my favorite composers."
Mr. Worthy cleared his throat loudly as if piqued that she had turned her attention to another. "I like Mozart too."
Oh merciful heavens! The man was impossible. "And what think you about art?" Georgiana asked Mr. Worthy. What response would he give?
He frowned. "Art can get quite messy. Particularly painting. I suppose drawing is not quite so troublesome."
Georgiana coughed to cover her laugh. Richard's eyes were dancing with merriment. The man who spoke at length about fertilizer thought art was excessively messy?
"Georgiana is accomplished at drawing," Aunt Catherine intoned.
Mr. Worthy seemed unsure what to do with this piece of information, but the viscount exclaimed, "Indeed? I must see some of your drawings."
Georgiana felt her face heat. She cast her eyes down in the way of demure young ladies. "Sir, you are too kind."
"I am sure they are magnificent," he said sturdily.
"How do you know?" Mr. Worthy asked peevishly. "You have not seen any of her artwork!"
Clearly Mr. Worthy did not understand the rules of empty flattery.
Even Aunt Catherine was miffed. "Georgiana's skills are quite advanced, I assure you. And her playing…"
She hated it when her aunt spoke of her like some cow she was hoping to sell to the highest bidder. If she did not stop Aunt Catherine now, she could continue in this vein ad nauseum. She cast an imploring look at William, but then realized he had left the table, most likely to consult with the butler about the meal.
"Sir," she addressed Mr. Worthy. "Did you know that Rosings Park has experienced a blight upon its potatoes?" The man's eyes widened in alarm while Aunt Catherine's mouth dropped open in shock. "And, I believe they have not rotated crops in their wheat fields for years!" Finally, a reward for enduring William's many conversations with their Aunt about modernizing her agricultural techniques.
"B-But, that is n-not—!" Aunt Catherine spluttered.
But it was far too late. Mr. Worthy had grasped the subject like a dog with a bone.
He turned his full attention on Lady Catherine. "Tell me the appearance of the blight. Spare no detail!"
On Aunt Catherine's far side, Lord Robert smiled conspiratorially at Georgiana. He recognized her maneuvering. But before she could engage him in conversation, Mr. Bennet said something to him and they were soon deep in discourse.
Georgiana was not unhappy. In fact, she was quite relieved. She finally had an opportunity to speak with Richard without interruption. He was grinning at her. "Cousin, remind me to never fight you in a duel. You show no mercy."
She looked about the table, but no one was paying them the least heed. "She brought the man to Pemberley," Georgiana said in a low voice, giving him her best innocent expression. "She should not be denied the benefit of his expertise."
Richard nodded in solemn agreement. "'Tis only fair."
She chuckled. "While you are here, we will have a match, will we not?"
"Of course. You merely need name the time and the place."
"Not tomorrow, but perhaps the day after—if the weather continues fine." Richard and William were the only ones who would shoot against her. Most men would be scandalized if they knew she could wield a pistol. "I have been practicing," she warned him.
"So have I," he said with a smile.
"Tell me stories of the war," she asked him. "William always believes it will disturb me. And the newspapers have too few details."
"It is not suitable conversation for a young lady."
Georgiana rolled her eyes. "I promise not to faint." Still he hesitated. Finally she placed her hand on his where it rested on the table. Apparently he was not expecting the move because he startled at the touch of her skin. "I pray you do not treat me as spun glass. I am not as delicate as everyone believes."
"I know, dearest." He held her eyes, and something taut inside her chest relaxed, like a bow being unstrung. He did know she was not the fragile flower everyone seemed to see.
Finally he blew out a breath. "I will tell you some of what I know—what I am allowed to tell civilians. But you must do something for me in exchange."
She gave him a mischievous glance. "Would you like me to tell you what I know of the latest fashions in London? Or perhaps the most recent gossip in the ton?"
He held up his hands in surrender. "Spare me! No. I would only ask that one day when it is just the two of use you play my favorite piece for me."
She treasured those moments when they were alone together. This was a very easy promise to keep. "Of course. I will always play for you, Richard."