CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
"What?" said Georgiana at the dinner table that evening. "You're getting married, Fitzwilliam? You didn't think to tell me? Well, why should you? In fact, you tell me nothing."
Elizabeth had spent the day exploring Pemberley at Darcy's urging. He told her that he wanted to her become familiar with the place, because it was to be her home. She could hardly accept that. The place was so grand. But she did find exploring a rather exciting activity. She had been accompanied by her maid, Nellie, who had told her stories about the family, like how Darcy had allowed her to go home for an entire two months when her older sister had a baby, and paid her wages the entire time besides. He is the best master, she said. And now he says that if you and I are happy together, I am to be your maid, and you will be the lady of the house. I am simply beside myself.
Elizabeth liked Nellie quite a lot. She had never had a maid of her own. At home, she and her sisters and mother all shared one maid, who had to help dress and do their hair. The one maid couldn't possibly manage all of that, so Elizabeth and her sisters had become proficient in filling in the gaps. A maid all to herself was an impossible luxury.
She loved the entire estate. Looking at it left her giddy and incredulous, as if she had been whisked off into some kind of fairy tale. But then she had been deposited into this dinner, which was full of tension. Lady Catherine was not concealing her disapproval of Elizabeth, and Georgiana was still quite upset.
Elizabeth gathered that Darcy had still not spoken to his sister about all that had transpired. He must do so. She resolved she would suggest it to him. Georgiana was still hurting, and nothing was being done for the poor girl. If Darcy would not speak to her, Elizabeth would do so herself.
"Look," Darcy was saying, "of course I wanted to talk to you about this, Georgiana, but there has been so little time."
"I was alone all day," said Georgiana. "You did not seek me out."
"What has transpired between myself and Miss Bennet has been somewhat thrust upon us," said Darcy. "When Wickham captured us both—"
"Oh, again with these lies," said Georgiana, screwing up her face. "Georgie would never do such a thing."
"Captured?" said Lady Catherine, looking eager. "This I have not heard. Please tell me the details, Darcy."
Darcy cut his meat. "It is hardly proper dinner conversation. It was a harrowing ordeal that Miss Bennet and I were put through. We were threatened and starved. We managed to escape, but I daresay things were nearly worse afterward, as we had no money or means by which to obtain shelter or food or transportation. We were forced, in fact, to become thieves, and I did not have time today to see you, Georgiana, because I was busy posting payments to the people that we were obliged to take food and horses from. I have paid them all back thricefold and sent them my apologies and gratitude."
Georgiana huffed. "Yes, you're always busy. And if you're not busy, you're not here. And if you are here, you're sending me away."
"The last time I sent you away, it was at your express desire," said Darcy. "To Ramsgate. And look how that turned out."
"Georgie and I are in love," said Georgiana. "You may think to keep us away from each other, but you will not be able to do so. He will come for me. I know it. He is my husband now."
"He is not," said Lady Catherine, scandalized.
"No, he is not," Darcy agreed.
"I said, 'I do,'" said Georgiana. "Which means that, in the eyes of God, we are joined together."
"Listen, my sweet girl," said Lady Catherine, "this man only sought you for your fortune. You must realize this. And even if he did love you, what is love? A passing whim that fades quickly. It is not a basis for something as enduring as marriage."
"No," said Georgiana. "It is different between Georgie and me—"
"Stop calling him that," said Darcy, his mouth twisting in disgust.
"If it distresses you, I shall call him that as much as I desire," said Georgiana, lifting her chin. "I wish to inflict as much pain upon you as you have inflicted on me."
Darcy's shoulders sagged.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," said Lady Catherine. "He's only done what any guardian would do. You will forget this Winterbottom in time, my dear." She turned to Darcy. "Am I given to understand that you are marrying Miss Bennet because your capture compromised her?"
Darcy's lips parted.
"Well?" said Lady Catherine.
"I do not think such subjects should be discussed at dinner," said Darcy.
"Oh, nephew, you are too fastidious by half." Lady Catherine waved this away. "Listen, Miss Bennet, if you were captured by Wickersham or whatever his name is, then he is the one who compromised you." She turned to her nephew. "Darcy, you must find this man and make him marry Miss Bennet. And then you shall be free to marry where you are meant to marry."
"That is…" Darcy's face was red. "You are speaking of things you don't understand, madam. Wickham is no suitable husband for anyone. He is meant for nothing more than the gallows, I'm afraid. He is a common criminal."
"Stop saying things like that!" said Georgiana.
"I'm sorry, Georgiana," said Darcy quietly. "I know you think you know him, but you don't."
"Obviously, Miss Bennet shouldn't marry my Wickham," said Georgiana. "But I don't see why you have to marry her, Fitzwilliam. Our aunt is right. She's hardly a worthy match for you."
Elizabeth swallowed hard. She had steeled herself from censure from Lady Catherine, and the dinner thus far had been quite hard to take, but she had not expected to hear such a thing from Darcy's own sister. However, why should she expect differently? Georgiana was a close personal friend of Miss Caroline Bingley's, after all, and Elizabeth knew that woman's opinion of her family.
"Georgiana!" Darcy snapped. "Apologize to Miss Bennet. She is to be your sister-in-law and you must not say such uncharitable things."
"No, it is all right," Elizabeth spoke up. "Miss Darcy has been through quite a lot, and she is understandably upset. I am sure she feels as if no one is listening to her. I am sure she is quite distraught." She tried to catch Georgiana's eye across the table.
Georgiana looked away pointedly. Her lower lip was trembling.
"Wickham may have used you, Miss Darcy, but that is no reflection on you. You are a lovely girl, and you are much more than your fortune," said Elizabeth. "Why, everyone who knows you goes on about your accomplishments and poise and sweet disposition. I have heard nothing but praise in regards to you. And your brother quite adores you. You may feel alone, but—"
"I need to be excused," Georgiana interrupted, standing up, her voice full of tears.
Elizabeth winced. She should not have said so much. It was only that she suspected that Georgiana had been such easy prey for Wickham because she felt so neglected. And Elizabeth knew how Wickham could make a girl feel as if she were the only woman in the room.
Why, she herself had been susceptible to it. When Wickham arrived, he had paid her such flattering attentions. And the last man's opinion of her that she had heard had been Mr. Darcy's, which was the opposite of flattering. She was probably even more susceptible to Wickham's charms in the wake of all that. Yes, she thought she might know exactly how Georgiana felt.
Elizabeth bit down on her bottom lip. "I'm so terribly sorry, Miss Darcy."
"Don't," said Georgiana, glaring at her. Tears began to slide down her cheeks. "I really have to go," she murmured and then she fled the room.
Lady Catherine rolled her eyes. "Such theatrics."
Darcy rubbed his temples as if he had a headache.
Lady Catherine turned to Elizabeth. "Your father. Who is he?"
"Well, Lady Catherine, perhaps you know that Mr. Collins, the clergyman in your parsonage, is the recipient of my father's estate. It is entailed upon him, in fact."
"Oh," said Lady Catherine, pursing her lips. "So, that is who you are, then." She nodded. "Yes, yes. I remember now. Collins spoke of going to stay with the Bennets."
"Mr. Collins spoke of you as well," said Elizabeth. "Often and with much admiration."
"You have a great many sisters, I am given to understand," said Lady Catherine.
"Four, madam," said Elizabeth.
"Your ladyship," said Darcy, "must you put my fiancee through such a grueling set of questions? Might we not enjoy a bit of our dinner, now that you have chased Georgiana away?"
"I chased her away?" Lady Catherine scoffed. "It was Miss Bennet who did that, I'm afraid."
Elizabeth flushed. "I did not mean to upset her. I sought to comfort—"
"You did nothing wrong," said Darcy. "Please, madam."
"Do you play and sing, Miss Bennet?" said Lady Catherine, pushing her food around on her plate.
"A bit," said Elizabeth.
"Perhaps after dinner, you can entertain us all," said Lady Catherine. "What about your sisters? Do they play and sing as well?"
"One of them does."
"And you did not all learn? You should have. Your father's income would not bar such a thing. Do you draw?"
"No, I'm afraid not," said Elizabeth.
"And your sisters?"
"No, none of us draw," said Elizabeth.
"But were you not taken to London to have the benefit of the masters every spring?" said Lady Catherine.
"No, I'm afraid not," said Elizabeth. "I'm sure my mother would have had no objection, but my father despises London."
"Despises London?" Lady Catherine cleared her throat. "What an odd, odd thing to say. What about your governess? Surely she taught drawing."
"We never had a governess," said Elizabeth, who was beginning to feel about two inches high.
"I really much insist that we leave this subject," said Mr. Darcy.
"No governess!" Lady Catherine drew herself up. "Why I couldn't possibly understand that. Whyever not?"
"I suppose it was not deemed necessary," said Elizabeth.
"And for the life of me, I cannot even understand how it is that you and Mr. Darcy met at all. I am given to believe that you have an older sister, as yet unmarried, who Mr. Collins was to perhaps inquire after the hand of. So, Mr. Darcy says you met at a ball, but how is it that you are out in society before your sister is married?"
"We are all out, madam," said Elizabeth quietly.
"What? The younger ones before the older are even married? How irregular!"
Elizabeth set her jaw. "You know, I think it would be very hard upon younger sisters, that they should not have their share of society and amusement because the elder may not have the means or inclination to marry early. The last born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth as the first. And to be kept back, well, I think it would not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind."
"Oh, indeed," said Lady Catherine. "You give your opinion rather easily, don't you, Miss Bennet? And quite strongly for such a young person. Pray, how old are you?"
"I say," said Darcy, rather loudly. "Don't you find the meat to be very tender?"
Elizabeth stared down Lady Catherine. "With three younger sisters out in society, your Ladyship can hardly expect me to own it."
Lady Catherine harrumphed. "You have no reason to conceal your age. Not unless you are trying to trick my nephew into marrying a woman too old to bear his children."
"Madam!" said Darcy, shaking his head.
"I am not one and twenty," said Elizabeth, narrowing her eyes.
"There, you see, there is not reason to conceal your age."
"Perhaps not," said Elizabeth. "But there is also no reason to demand to know it of someone."
"You are rather impertinent, aren't you?" said Lady Catherine.
"And you are rather given to saying whatever crosses your mind, aren't you?"
Lady Catherine's eyes widened again.
"But rest easy, madam," said Elizabeth, returning to her food. "I rather admire that about you. Your nephew tells me you ride horses astride. Some might call that shocking, but I call it strong and independent. You are a woman to be reckoned with, I imagine."
Lady Catherine's lips curled. "That is not an inaccurate description."
"Well, I am perhaps not so bold as you," said Elizabeth, "but I am not a feather you can knock over with one breath either."
Lady Catherine raised her eyebrows. "Under other circumstances, I think I might like you, Miss Bennet. But mark my words, you will not marry my nephew." She turned round. "Are we not to be served another course soon? Where are the footmen?"
#
Darcy couldn't help but be impressed with the way that Elizabeth had stood up to his aunt. Lady Catherine was a bit of a force of nature, he knew. She could barrel through like a storm, laying waste to everything in her path. He was pleased to see that Elizabeth was not cowed by the woman. He also realized that he had been uncharitable towards Elizabeth's relations without thought to his own. Lady Catherine was easily as difficult to take as Mrs. Bennet, perhaps more so, considering she outranked everyone.
But Elizabeth was a force herself.
After dinner, he had no other gentlemen to drink port with, so he came to the drawing room for tea with the women. Only Elizabeth had excused herself early for bed, and Georgiana was gone, so it was only himself, Lady Catherine, and Anne.
He resolved to make an excuse and also retire at the earliest opportunity, but he could not leave at once without being rude, so he sat down with his aunt. He tried to think of what he might say to her that would quell her arguments against his marrying Elizabeth. But he was afraid that he could not think of anything. His aunt had been set upon his and Anne's union since Anne was born.
He had never taken the idea seriously, however. As for Anne herself, he realized that he had no notion of who she was, for she was often quiet. This wasn't strictly her fault. Her mother rarely gave the girl time to speak. Though she was old enough to have made a debut in society, his aunt had kept her daughter at home, claiming she was too sickly for such a thing. Also, Darcy thought, she didn't see the need to show the girl to other suitors when she was dead set on Darcy and Anne making a match.
"Truly, Darcy, you cannot marry that Bennet girl," said Lady Catherine by way of greeting.
"With all due respect," said Darcy, "I am the master of myself, and I shall do whatever it is that I think is best."
"But you are young and stupid," said Lady Catherine. She eyed him. "Have you truly compromised her, then? Is there a possibility of a child?"
"No," said Darcy, horrified, and he turned to look at Anne. "This is hardly the sort of thing that should be discussed here."
"Oh, Anne does not understand." Lady Catherine waved that away. "Well, I must say that I am pleased to hear that. You are telling me the truth, aren't you? It would be best if I knew. If you have been careless, it does change things, but it does not make the situation impossible. You will simply have to pay whoever you want to marry her more. And it might be best to find a widower who already has an heir. Men never want to accept another's leavings as their firstborn."
"Stop it," said Darcy, sighing. "There is no child, and no chance of one, not until we are married." But he felt a sinking sensation in his stomach, because this might well not be true if had been left to his own devices with Miss Bennet the night before. Not that it would have changed anything. He was going to marry her and nothing would shake him from that purpose. It was only that he had certain principles, and Miss Bennet tempted him to cross them. He wasn't sure why she affected him so deeply.
He knew that he liked it. It was something that was missing from his life, this unbridled passion. Even the way she laughed undid him. It was as if she put her whole being into her merriment. He liked being around someone so bright and alive.
"You will not marry that woman," said Lady Catherine. "I forbid it."
"Listen, you must know that I have never truly considered marrying Anne." He turned to her. "I don't mean this as any slight toward you, cousin. You are quite a remarkable creature, I'm sure. We so rarely are able to speak."
"It's all right," said Anne. "I should like to have a Season, myself."
"You are too sickly to dance," said Lady Catherine dismissively.
"You always say that, Mama, but you have never allowed me to try dancing," said Anne.
Lady Catherine sniffed. "A mother knows best, darling. Let's hear no more of this nonsense."
Darcy felt suddenly sympathetic toward Anne, acutely so. What a way to be raised. What a mother to have. Perhaps he should try to find someone to marry Anne and rescue her from his aunt.
"Darcy, I will not be moved on this," said Lady Catherine.
"Neither will I," said Darcy. "I have fallen for Miss Bennet, you see. I love her."
"Oh," said Lady Catherine, shivering. "That is unacceptable. And foolish besides. Truly, I had expected better of you, nephew."
#
"You mustn't worry about it," Nellie was saying to Elizabeth as she braided her hair for Elizabeth to go to sleep. "Mr. Darcy is always obeyed, and he is quite certain what he wants. He was clear to me that is going to marry you, and I am sure his aunt couldn't dissuade him of such a thing."
Elizabeth nodded. "I believe you are right, Nellie. I do." At least she wanted to. But she could not help but doubt it all, she realized. Darcy had been forced into this. He had not chosen her. And why should she think he truly cared for her? She wished that she could have confidence in him, and for the most part, she did, but the doubts would not be silent.
There was a knock at her door.
She turned back to Nellie. "Who could that be?"
"I'll answer it," said Nellie, crossing the room. She opened the door.
Mr. Darcy was there. He was still dressed, thank heaven. But Elizabeth was not. She was only in her shift. She reached for her bed jacket and put it on over her nightclothes.
"Oh, sir," said Nellie. "I suppose I shall leave you—"
"Stay, Nellie," said Darcy, coming into the room. "It would be proper for you to stay."
Nellie nodded. "Yes, sir."
Of course, maids were not really acceptable chaperones. They could be so easily paid off. But she recognized that Mr. Darcy was making a gesture. He was not to make another attempt on her virtue that night.
Why was she disappointed?
"I'm sorry to intrude upon you," said Mr. Darcy. "If you are uncomfortable with my being here, I can leave."
"It is all right," said Elizabeth. "What can I do for you?" Why was he here?
"I only… I wanted to see you after the travesty today at dinner," he said. "I thought you were brilliant, the way you stood up to her. I am only sorry you had to contend with the things she said. She was abominably rude."
Elizabeth smiled. "Well, she does have a way of not mincing words, I suppose. But she did point out some things that are true. I have not had the same education that other women you would generally consider for a bride might have had."
"Oh, because you cannot draw," said Darcy, snorting. "Yes, you're right. Whatever shall I do?"
"But I'm not accomplished," she said. "And you think it quite important that women who are called accomplished be truly accomplished, after all."
He hung his head. "Miss Bennet, please. You must know that when I said that, I did not mean to imply… Will you bring up all the stupid things I have said in every discussion we have for the rest of our lives?"
"I…" She folded her arms over her chest. "Would you consider me accomplished?"
"Well, as a matter of fact, I would," he said. "I don't know another woman who could keep her head in a situation such as the one we were in. And you fought off thieves and helped steal horses and rode astride under uncomfortable circumstances. All of those things, I think, make you quite accomplished."
And again, she was blushing. She looked down at her feet.
It was quiet for a time.
When she raised her gaze again, Darcy was smiling at her.
She could not help but smile back.
His hand jerked forward, as if moving against his will, and he seized her hand.
She sucked in breath sharply. His touch seemed to sear into her, and even though it was only their fingers touching, she could feel it everywhere. Her body felt heavy and loose and she was once again in the clutch of a feeling that there was something ancient and pleasant her body wanted from this man.
His lips parted.
She drew in a shaky breath.
They gazed at each other.
She wished he would dismiss Nellie and kiss her again. She wanted to put her hands on his face, to trace the hard lines of his jaw and let her fingers rest against his broad shoulders. She wanted to feel her body crushed against his. She wanted to be as close to him as she had been before.
"Well," he said softly.
"Yes?" she breathed.
Gently, he withdrew his hand. "I only came to say that, and since I have done so, I will take my leave now."
"Of course," she said. She was disappointed, even though it was at her insistence that he did not make advances toward her, and after all—after all—she was not sure of this man, not truly. But that didn't mean that she didn't want…
He turned to go.
"Mr. Darcy?"
He turned back. "Yes?"
She wanted to ask him to dismiss Nellie and then to begin tearing at his cravat. Instead, she said, "It is quite nice that you've made time to speak to me. Perhaps you should speak to your sister as well?"
He raised his eyebrows. "You mean now?"
"I think she would appreciate it, yes," said Elizabeth. Truly, she wanted him to stay with her now, but that couldn't happen. And Georgiana did need her brother, of that Elizabeth was certain. She could have brought this up with more delicacy, perhaps, but Mr. Darcy had made her so flustered by touching her hand, and… and by looking at her, so she couldn't be blamed for her lack of eloquence.
"Well, certainly by now, she's cried herself to sleep."
"Alone," said Elizabeth. "Even if she had fallen asleep, she might welcome some company. And you are her brother, her only family. She wants you, and you have not spoken to her, not truly, since we rescued her from Wickham." As she spoke the words, she began to feel impassioned about Georgiana's plight, almost as if she was funneling her desire for Darcy into her indignation with him. Maybe she was indignant that he made her feel so much desire. Maybe he could stand to be lectured.
"She needs time to calm down," said Darcy. "There is no way I could speak to her now. She would do nothing but rage at me."
"You lamented leaving her too much on her own," said Elizabeth. "You said she reminded you of your mother, and that you avoided her. And now, you are doing the same thing. You are neglecting her, and just when she needs you."
Darcy cleared his throat. "I hardly think I am neglecting her."
"Well, I do," said Elizabeth. "And I have already decided that if you will not speak to her, I shall talk to her myself. Not tonight, as I don't think she would welcome me. But on the morrow, certainly."
"Forgive me, Miss Bennet, but you do not know my sister as I do. When she gets into one of these passions, it is best to let her be until it runs its course."
"I disagree, sir," she said. "I may not know your sister in particular, but I do have three younger sisters, besides having once been a young girl myself, and I think that what your sister needs now, more than anything, is your support."
"But I don't support her." And now his voice was rising. "In fact, I am rather put out by her behavior. I might venture to say that I am angry. She is willfully attached to Wickham—"
"Because he has charmed her. She doesn't know any better."
"She should know that a union between her and Mr. Wickham is impossible even if he were not such a wretch. The difference in their stations forbids it."
"She is starving for affection and Wickham gives it to her. She cannot get it anywhere else." Elizabeth's voice was rising too.
"What is that supposed to mean? Of course she is showered with affection. She is a beloved sister."
"It seems to me that you never spend any time with her at all. You do not speak to her alone. You do not reassure her. You keep her entirely cut off, and it is no wonder that she would long for something else—"
"That is quite enough, Miss Bennet." His face was red.
Her mouth was open. She closed it. She supposed he would expect her to apologize now, but she wasn't sorry. She was right, and he was wrong. He was being ridiculous and closed off, and Georgiana needed warmth and togetherness.
"If I want your opinion on a matter, I will ask for it," he said.
"Oh, so otherwise I'm to keep my own counsel, then?"
"Yes."
"I should never say anything that might upset you, I suppose. You wouldn't be able to bear it." She was sarcastic.
"Miss Bennet, you are far too free with me."
"You are to be my husband. Am I not to speak my mind then? How delightful it will be to share my life with you and never tell you what I truly think."
His nostrils flared.
Oh, she was doing it again. She was speaking when she oughtn't. Honestly, she did need to remind herself to keep her tongue in check. She did sometimes go on and on when silence was the more prudent course of action. She pressed her lips together.
"Perhaps it is best not to continue this conversation just now," said Mr. Darcy in a low voice.
She only nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"Good night, Miss Bennet." He turned and walked quickly to the door.