Chapter Fifteen
It seemed Mrs. Gardiner's predictions were true. The very next day they received a note from Mr. Darcy inviting them to dinner that night.
"You see, Lizzy. I told you he wants to see you again."
Elizabeth found it very vexing. "I cannot think why."
"Can you not?" Mrs. Gardiner's expression was quizzical. "Mr. Darcy is a very eligible young man. I am sure that at some point he will want to take a wife."
Elizabeth was alarmed. She wanted no speculation. "I told you, Aunt, by his behaviour at Meryton he made it clear that I was not attractive nor was I the sort of person he would want in his acquaintance. Insupportable was what he said."
Mrs. Gardiner looked disappointed.
"And Aunt, he does not have the sort of manners I would look for in a husband."
Mr. Gardiner suddenly looked up from the paper he was reading. "And does that mean you are looking for a husband?" he teased.
Elizabeth tried to hide her exasperation. "No, I am not," she said firmly and deliberately changed the subject by asking her aunt if she was needed that morning to help with the children.
"Lizzy, you know you are here for a holiday. The children love you, but you must not feel as if you must spend all your time with them. They have Mrs. Groves."
"Then I shall write letters this morning," said Lizzy, glad that Mr. Darcy had been temporarily forgotten.
It was Colonel Fitzwilliam who greeted them that evening. Although there were similarities in appearance between the two men, the colonel did not have the same height as Mr. Darcy but he had a willing smile and warm nature.
"Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet. It is a delight that you could join us."
"It was kind of you to invite us, sir," said Mr. Gardiner.
"My cousin asked me to apologise for not being here to greet you. He will be joining us shortly."
"And Miss Darcy?" asked Elizabeth.
"I'm not sure," said the colonel, nodding at the footman who was waiting to serve them drinks.
Elizabeth's eyes glided towards the pianoforte. She noticed it was open and there was music on the stand.
"Do you play, Miss Bennet?"
"Yes sir, but only a little. In fact, very poorly indeed."
"Oh Lizzy, you are too modest. Do not listen to her, sir. Elizabeth plays very well and she also has a beautiful singing voice."
Elizabeth glared at her aunt but the look went unnoticed.
"Indeed, then perhaps you will play for us later," said the colonel, smiling at her warmly.
"It is kind of you to suggest it, but really I cannot. I only play for my own pleasure."
Elizabeth did not want to appear rude, but she certainly was not going to expose her playing to someone as judgmental as Mr. Darcy.
"Darcy, I was just trying to encourage Miss Bennet here to entertain us later," said the colonel as Mr. Darcy entered the room.
"You can if you like, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth shook her head. His manner was not encouraging. "Thank you, sir, but I must decline. My skills are not worthy of any public scrutiny."
Colonel Fitzwilliam took pity on her and enquired where Georgiana was.
Mr. Darcy looked uncomfortable. "You must forgive her, but she is feeling unwell. She will not be joining us to dine."
"Oh, that is a pity," said Mrs. Gardiner.
Elizabeth was certain that illness was not the reason why Georgiana was not joining them. "Could I go and visit her…?" It was an impertinent request, but she could not help herself. "Just for a few minutes. I would not want to distress her."
Mr. Darcy's expression was difficult to read. "I am certain my sister would welcome a short visit, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth was relieved. Mr. Darcy asked the footman to escort Elizabeth to Miss Darcy's room.
Elizabeth was unsure how Georgiana Darcy would greet her. She expected the young woman to be in bed, but she was not. She was sitting by the table, a book in hand. She quickly covered it with another. Elizabeth noticed the small gesture and wondered what it meant.
"What are you doing here?" asked Georgiana, her tone defensive.
"I'm sorry to interrupt. I was wondering how you were this evening."
"You mean you came to pry?" snapped Georgiana.
"Not at all, Miss Darcy. I will leave…" she said.
"No, stay." Her maid was sitting on a chair and Georgiana dismissed her. "Please stay for a few minutes."
Elizabeth sat down at the table. "Mr. Darcy says you are feeling unwell."
Georgiana looked embarrassed. "I just didn't want to come to dinner. It's rude of me, isn't it?"
Elizabeth chose her words carefully. "It is not always easy to dine with people who are mere acquaintances."
"I don't feel ill. Oh, I have a headache, but I have been arguing with Fitzwilliam. I do not know what is wrong with me."
Elizabeth was curious, but having been accused of prying she said nothing.
Georgiana carried on. "He was angry that I was responsible for embarrassing the Darcy family name yesterday and that I spoiled your evening."
"Please think no more about it. I had the opportunity to dance "
"I was not very polite to you…" said Georgiana.
"There are times when my own tongue says imprudent things," said Elizabeth.
She saw Georgiana's eyes were full of tears again. "If you have said words you regret to Mr. Darcy, I am sure he will forgive you."
"I have not," she said with unexpected sharpness. "He will not listen to me."
Elizabeth felt out of her depth. She had seen how abruptly Mr. Darcy had spoken to her. He was a man used to having his own way without dissent.
"Has it something to do with the book?"
"What do you mean?" asked Georgiana.
"The one you hid, when I came in the room."
Georgiana looked at her haughtily. "It is nothing to do with you."
"No it isn't, but I thought I might be able to help."
Georgiana crumbled once more and started to sob. "There is nothing you can do. Here, look." She pulled out the book and pushed it towards her.
Elizabeth opened it wonderingly. She turned over the pages carefully and then stared at Georgiana. "These are yours?"
Georgiana nodded.
"They are beautiful." Elizabeth stared at the drawings, page after page, of people. Servants working, people walking along the street. Near the back of the book were scenes at the seaside, people on a promenade and on the beach. Some were just faces. There was one of Mr. Darcy unsmiling but handsome and another of Colonel Fitzwilliam laughing. There were several of the same very handsome man.
"These are wonderful. What does your brother think of them?"
"He told me to throw them away."
"But why?"
"He does not like them," said Georgiana sadly.
"Have you always drawn?"
"Since I was a small child I have always enjoyed drawing and would sketch anything. I had a governess who used to encourage it. I think she was glad she didn't have to do much else with me."
Elizabeth laughed. "I can imagine. Small children can be very wearing."
"Well, I was happy if I was allowed to draw. I carried on as I got older and Mrs. Younge, my companion, encouraged me to draw. We lived in a house in Ramsgate and I don't know whether she talked to Fitzwilliam about it, we brought materials and every day when the weather was good I would spend some hours on the promenade trying to commit things to memory before going home and drawing them."
Elizabeth had never heard Georgiana put so many words together. She was fascinated by the different aspect of her character.
"So did you not tell your brother?"
Georgiana seemed impatient of the question. "I never had the opportunity to talk to him about it. Fitzwilliam has been very busy and he knew that I was settled in Kent. He did not ask anything else."
Elizabeth suddenly realised how hurtful that must have been. Beneath the resentment Georgiana adored her brother.
"But he knows now."
"Yes and he told me to throw them away and concentrate on my music."
"But why would he do that?"
Georgiana opened the book to the pages where Elizabeth had noticed the sketches of a young man.
"That is why…. He says I must forget."
Tears slipped down Georgiana's cheeks. "I miss him so much."
Elizabeth reached out and held her hand. There was little she could do to comfort her.
"How is Georgiana?" asked Colonel Fitzwilliam.
"A little tired, I think. She has a headache. She sends her apologies for not coming down to greet you," said Elizabeth to her aunt and uncle, hoping they would not ask any further questions.
"It is a pity, but never mind," said Mr. Gardiner. "Mr. Darcy, you were saying, sir, that you have lakes from which you can fish at Pemberley."
"Indeed I have, sir... If you are in that part of the country you must visit."
Elizabeth was surprised at the turn of conversation, though she was relieved not to be questioned about Georgiana. However, she could hardly think that Mr. Darcy really meant to invite her uncle if he was passing. It was very strange.
The dinner was far more pleasant than Elizabeth expected, though she thought that was mainly down to Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Gardiner who ensured that the conversation flowed along with the wine and the excellent food. Several times she found Mr. Darcy simply staring at her. She found it unnerving and almost drew his attention to it, but decided it would not be polite, especially when all effort had been made to ensure they enjoyed themselves. It was very late before they left for home.
"Such a nice evening," said Mrs. Gardiner.
"Yes indeed, my dear," said Mr. Gardiner, "though I thought Mr. Darcy was very quiet."
"You are wrong, Aunt. Mr. Darcy spoke to you a great deal. Normally he would not have bothered."
"Elizabeth, I cannot equate the man we met tonight, with the man you met at Netherfield," said her aunt.
"He seemed to make a little more effort, though I think that may be the influence of the colonel."
"Well, I found him a personable young man and if I am ever in Derbyshire, I may well take him up on his offer to show me Pemberley," said Mr. Gardiner.
Elizabeth looked scathing. "Dear uncle, I would not want to disappoint you, but I assure you he was not serious."
Mr. Gardiner did indeed look disappointed. He was very fond of fishing, though he had scant opportunity to do it. "Very well, Lizzy. We shall assume that was the last time we will see Mr. Darcy?"
"I am certain of it," said Elizabeth.