The grand siblings entered the parlour, and Elizabeth, so astonished by the call, could hardly form a single coherent thought, but rather a string of incomplete queries, rapidly churning in her mind into a muddled confusion, which lead to greater bewilderment at her own uncharacteristic discomposure and inchoate thoughts. But more astonished still was Elizabeth that she, in the course of these internal waves of amazement, managed to rise and curtsy to her guests without fumbling and betraying her turbulent mind.
This will not do, thought she, frustrated with herself. This was not to be of long duration, however, for she soon redirected the feeling onto he who had provoked it, which Elizabeth found to be an incredibly beneficial exercise for her own confidence, and thus, encouraged her to raise her gaze to Georgiana. Seeing her slightly uneasy and shy, Elizabeth offered her a reassuring smile, the affect of which was immediately expressed when Georgiana returned one gratefully and her shoulders relaxed. Darcy observed this silent exchange with equal parts curiosity and guardedness.
"Miss Darcy," Elizabeth began gently, and then shifted to her friend's brother with feigned sweetness, "Mr. Darcy. May I have the honour of introducing you to Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner? Mr. Gardiner is my uncle."
Georgiana received the introduction with pleasure and graciously honoured her new acquaintances and, to everyone's surprise, though the action was perhaps too stiff to be deemed cordial, so did Darcy.
Mrs. Gardiner, keenly feeling the necessity of avoiding even greater uneasy tension and awkwardness, especially between the formidable young gentleman and her niece, warmly addressed the callers, "We were just partaking of some tea. Shall I call for more?"
Darcy opened his mouth to pronounce a refusal, but the moment he attempted to form it, his sister interjected: "We would be delighted to take tea with you." The sentence was delivered with what appeared to be sweetness, and indeed it was; even so, Darcy marked it as yet another proof of her growing boldness since the events of the previous day. The first was, of course, her firm conviction of Miss Bennet's good character and of her brother unfairly misjudging it. The second – which was encouraged by the first – was her conviction toward this outing; a decisive demonstration in itself, for Georgiana hardly possessed the spirit to rouse herself from their carriage to take refreshment and rest during their long journey home from Kent.
Darcy knew not how he should feel in that moment. Should he be thankful for his sister's rallying of spirits, even for this short interval? Or would it be better at this time for her to be solitary? He did not know, but one thing he could be certain of with every fibre of his being: by permitting this excursion he was leaving her vulnerable to greater pain and suffering, should these people use her ill. She could not bear that, and neither, Darcy realised, could he.
A shadow darkened Darcy's features as he mulled over this with a silent intensity, and Elizabeth wondered what thoughts inspired such an expression. Perhaps it had suddenly dawned on him that his fate for the next quarter hour was to sit in company making niceties and drinking tea with people so decidedly below his station. It took all the discipline Elizabeth possessed to refrain from scoffing and rolling her eyes at his apparent contempt.
Elizabeth and Darcy withdrew into their thoughts as Mrs. Gardiner, donning her role of hostess with confidence and grace from her years of experience and her natural aptitude, lead them into the room to be seated before leaving to organise a fresh tray of tea. Elizabeth resumed her place in the middle of the out-dated but comfortable settee, Georgiana took the space to Elizabeth's left, and Mr. Gardiner thought best of one of the two armchairs facing the settee. Darcy, too preoccupied by his thoughts, gave no mind to the seating arrangements and lowered himself into the remaining armchair across from his sister. Mrs. Gardiner soon returned, taking the available place beside her niece and across from her husband, and Bessy shortly followed carrying the tea tray. Elizabeth noted the uncommon promptness of the tea tray's arrival, crediting it to Mr. Darcy's presence; and she assented with a pert smile that such a man must have some use after all.
Refreshments were served and every one in the room felt the relief of having the employment of drinking tea to slow the ever-increasing awkwardness. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner felt it more for their niece and the young Miss Darcy, rather than for themselves or the formidable gentleman, whose presence was too commanding and situation in life too grand to evoke any feelings of sympathy for an elongated silence, especially when it was that very presence which instigated the silence.
The moment Darcy acquiesced to his sister's request to call upon the party at the inn, he had unconsciously predetermined to be taciturn and morose; and on this point he did not disappoint himself. Nor did he disappoint Elizabeth's expectation on this, for she was certain he would be as disagreeable as he was on their first acquaintance the day before, and more still. Indeed, Elizabeth would have found this proud, silent display before her thoroughly amusing, had she not also felt the embarrassment and offence of him slighting her relations.
No one spoke. Elizabeth opened her mouth slightly to formulate some phrase of engaging conversation that would suspend the strained silence. However, a man's stern voice in her mind stopped her: "It takes an intolerably impertinent and careless kind of person to become lost in a stranger's home, and then to converse with its residents, with whom she is not formally acquainted. This account does not signify a presence of 'excellent manners', nor does it suggest intelligence enough for desirable conversation."
She recalled Mr. Darcy's words, and their sting, as clearly as if he had just uttered them. Could he have intended to speak those words to his sister so that she might hear them also? Elizabeth was certain that Georgiana would not wish to embarrass her by beginning a conversation about her, knowing that she could hear it, but would her brother? Elizabeth remembered the slight hush of his voice and turn of his face away from her, and she conceded that he must not have realised she could hear their conversation. Though this reflection improved her opinion of him but a little, it did nothing to alleviate the distress his opinion of her had effected.
Elizabeth slowly raised her eyes to Darcy and was met with the intensity of his stare as though he could read her thoughts, causing her cheeks to glow crimson. In that moment she felt like a child being scolded. She could no longer bear the weight of his gaze, so she averted her eyes to Georgiana's shy face fixated on her cup and saucer, seemingly fascinated by its design.
With a pang of guilt for neglecting her guest, Elizabeth finally spoke with good humour, "We had just returned from exploring Lambton when you called." Georgiana enquired meekly after their enjoyment of the excursion, and Elizabeth smiled warmly, "We enjoyed it very much. In fact, I must now concur with my aunt that Lambton is the dearest place in the world."
Georgiana's face shone with delight, as she softly exclaimed, "I am so pleased! Have you been to Lambton before, Mrs. Gardiner?"
"Yes, I have." Mrs. Gardiner answered, "It is the place where I grew up, and consequently is very close to my heart." Elizabeth and Mr. Gardiner looked on with pleasure, commenting every now and then, as the two women conversed amicably of their hometown, sharing memories and confiding their own favourite spots, until an atmosphere of ease filled the room, despite Darcy's silence, inscrutable expression and half-hearted listening.
"It is a great joy," sighed Mrs. Gardiner, "and relief to be back in the country, where we may enjoy the fresh air, picturesque landscapes and relaxed pace of village life. Though we are very fond of our home in town."
This new information captured the interest of Mr. Darcy and, Elizabeth noticed as he leaned in slightly, he suddenly appeared to be quite attentive to their exchanges.
"Where about in London do you live?" Georgiana asked, "If you do not mind my asking."
"Not at all." Mrs. Gardiner smiled, "We live on Gracechurch Street." Darcy winced. Fortunately, Darcy's reaction was too subtle to be noticed by the rest of the party; all but one, as Elizabeth had been studying him closely for the entirety of the exchange. She tilted her head and observed him through narrowed eyes as the others continued. "It is a very comfortable living, and is near enough a park to afford the children a place where they may pleasantly and safely spend time out-of-doors."
"Indeed," Mr. Gardiner agreed, "and it is not too far from my warehouses that I may dine with my family and have them send me off into the world of business every working morning." He grinned fondly at his wife, and she could not but return it sincerely. Georgiana looked on in that moment with equal parts curiosity and delight, for though she knew her own parents had a felicitous marriage, her mother died when Georgiana was too young to discern or remember it, and for the first time she caught a glimmer of what true affection resembles.
Darcy rose abruptly and crossed the room with long strides to the window. Elizabeth nearly jumped back startled when he suddenly moved, her wide, disbelieving eyes following his tense back, which now held the attention of the entire room. The Gardiners looked between him and themselves, unsure of what to say after such a display, and what caused it, while Georgiana wondered the very same things with increasing distress and timidity. Elizabeth, on the other hand, knew exactly the cause, and felt nothing but disgust for his contempt, and sympathy for his sister.
Georgiana broke the silence, with an almost inaudible voice, "I believe we have trespassed on your kindness long enough." With her eyes downcast she set aside her tea and swiftly rose from her seat, causing the others in the room to do the same with concern. Darcy moved toward the door, and Elizabeth exchanged a look with her aunt and uncle as Georgiana followed him.
However, as they stood in the threshold of the parlour, Georgiana turned back to look at them. With a quietly bold voice, she said, "We would be delighted if you dined with us the evening after next. If you are not otherwise engaged." Darcy's flaring eyes snapped to Georgiana, making it remarkably clear that it would not delight him, though Georgiana took no notice, only looking at the other surprised faces in wait of an answer.
"I'm afraid," Elizabeth finally spoke, "that we will be departing that morning."
"I see…" Georgiana responded with disappointment, unaware of her brother's silent sigh of relief. "Well, then you must dine with us tomorrow, if you are able."
"Indeed, we are." Elizabeth could hardly supress a smile at her determination. "So long as it is not an inconvenience."
"Not at all! Excellent. Until tomorrow." And with that, a much happier Georgiana Darcy curtsied and exited the room and Mr. Darcy, stunned still, bowed stiffly and stalked after her several moments later, leaving their soon-to-be dinner guests to wonder how such a remarkable turn of events could yield such a conclusion.
Darcy handed his sister into their carriage, and when he was seated opposite her, he gave her a stern, disapproving look. "Georgiana, I cannot allow you to issue invitations without first consulting me."
"I am sorry, Brother." Georgiana apologised sincerely. "But I could not allow our visit to end in such a way. I believe they may have been offended by your actions. Please promise me that when they dine with us tomorrow, you will be civil."
Darcy considered her, attempting to maintain his demeanour of uncompromising strictness, but her face, so innocent and hopeful as it was before her heart was broken at Ramsgate, soon crumbled his conviction. "I promise," he sighed. "That is, if you promise to confer with me before you distribute anymore dinner invitations." She beamed and leaped forward to hug him, simultaneously thanking him and promising most earnestly to never do so again.
They talked of other things as the carriage approached Pemberley, and when Darcy sat up alone in his study that night, he was resolved, if the mere prospect of this dinner filled his dear sister with such joy, to work his hardest so that it would not disappoint her.