Chapter 10

Georgiana tilted her head to the side. Taking it all in for a moment. She had never heard her brother speak so candidly before.

"You've barely touched your breakfast, Georgiana. You must eat," said Darcy, changing the subject. Georgiana pushed her plate away from her.

"I'm not eating until you tell me about at least one lady you had an interest in at the ball. Then perhaps my faith in love might be restored."

He blinked at her. "You cannot be serious?"

"I am very serious! I am not finishing my breakfast unless you tell me."

"Tell you what, Sister! There is nothing to report."

"Hrmph!" She huffed, folding her arms and puffing out her cheeks. Darcy could not help but laugh at her ridiculous expression.

"It's not something to be laughed at!" Georgiana cried, close to tears.

"I'm sorry, you used to have that expression when you were little. When you wanted someone's attention or if you didn't like the food you were eating - you would sit like that and pout. Papa and I found it hilarious that we could barely contain ourselves." Darcy gasped as he spoke, trying to hold back his laughter. Georgiana's face only pouted more, making Darcy hold on to his side from laughter.

"I am not eating anything until you tell me!"

"Fine! Have it your way, Sister. There was not a lady I found interesting or desirable. Are you happy?"

"Did you talk to anyone? What about that lady with the red hair who laughs far too loudly?" When he realised she was referring to Ms. Caroline, he wanted to collapse in on himself. He never wanted to see or hear from that woman ever again.

"No, she's just a nuis… friend."

Georgiana raised an eyebrow.

"A friendship can turn into a romance. That's how they all start, of course!" She puffed her chest up, arms by her side, feeling confident and all-knowing.

"Sister, when I tell you I have no intention of marrying that woman, you must believe me. If you are so insistent on me telling you about a lady I was interested in, perhaps there is one."

Georgiana squealed in excitement.

"Oh, please tell me! She will be my sister, and I must know what she is like before I can call her so."

"Do not rush ahead of yourself, Georgiana. This is only a conversation between you and me and nothing more. There was a lady who liked to read."

"Really? What did she like to read?"

"Shakespeare and Wordsworth."

"I love that too! Oh, we will get along so well together."

"She has dark brown hair and a pale face with red cheeks. She was perhaps the most intriguing woman at the ball. She involves herself in charity work and seems to have a good sense of humour."

Georgiana couldn't contain her excitement; Darcy thought she might break the windows. The sound was so shrill.

"And what was she like to dance with?" His sister looked as if she might burst from excitement. The anticipation she felt was too much.

"Her feet are light. She has the finest pair of eyes, and she is witty…Anyway, we didn't finish our dance."

"What do you mean?" Georgiana asked, deflated.

"Well, I was...otherwise engaged in the middle of it, and so I never got the chance -"

"You met a woman who is a perfect match, and you didn't finish your dance and have supper with her?" Georgiana was appalled.

Instead of huffing, Georgiana ate one of her breakfast cakes in one huge gulp, rather unladylike, and got up to take her leave. Before she did, she glided over to her brother and kissed him on the cheek.

"I don't think you need to look any further for a wife. I think you may have found the perfect match."

How come a lady's imagination was so very rapid. It jumped from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. Darcy was lost for words when he realised the situation he had described. After all of the thinking of Elizabeth Bennet, of her complexion and good nature and attributes, he never once considered her a match. He felt like a fool in front of his baby sister.

~0~

Before she had time to think, Elizabeth was packing up her satchel again. She wasn't a child and wouldn't run away, but she needed to find solace elsewhere. She ignored Maggie's protests. She ignored her mother and told her father she needed fresh air. She simply could not accept the idea of being forced to marry someone. This rage inside her made her legs burn from walking so fast, strangers passing, giving her odd looks. So didn't care that she was unaccompanied, and she didn't care where she was going, but the reality was setting in. No matter what she did or said, once her mother had her mind made up about something, that was it. She had already faced the humiliation of being abandoned halfway through a dance and wouldn't be humiliated anymore. She walked on, passing people in the street selling fruits and vegetables and marvelled at their loneliness for the first time.

Perhaps being a spinster wouldn't be as bad as she thought. Maybe she could earn a living selling the horrible poetry she wrote by candlelight. Her thoughts were racing so quickly she hadn't decided where to go to. She skimmed past the shops, dazzling in colours, past milliner shops, bookshops, and haberdashery. Every inch of her body was on fire with rage and frustration. She thought of Mr. Darcy. She didn't know why he had come into her head and wished his image would leave her forever. Her legs had a mind of their own, and she found her aunt at her home at Russell Square. Magdalene looked up at her with concern.

"Elizabeth, dear, I wasn't expecting you. Is everything alright?"

"I just had to get away from Mamma." That's all Elizabeth had to say. Magdalene nodded with a knowing look and put her arm out to her.

"You were told of the arrangement then? Darling, you really shouldn't be making your way here unescorted. You must be careful." she said gravely. She let out a cough which caused Elizabeth to give her a concerned look.

"Yes, I know. I am sorry," Elizabeth took a moment to think.

"You knew about this arrangement, Aunt?"

"Your father informed me of it, I did protest, but once that mother of yours has an idea in her head, there's no use in trying to stop her."

"Auntie, I cannot marry a stranger. What if he's horrible. Mother didn't tell me who he is anyway." Magdalene gave her a knowing look.

"I can refuse, can't I?" Elizabeth pleaded. Her aunt tried to say something. Her coughing had worsened; she spluttered into a white handkerchief and quickly tucked it into her sleeve.

"Auntie, your cough has gotten worse. Are you well?" she said nothing for a moment.

"I'm fine. Now Elizabeth, I must tell you a few hard truths."

"Please be kind, Aunt Magdalene. I don't think I can take any more horrible news,"

"Well, you see, your predicament is out of your control,"

"Are you saying I have to marry this stranger?" Elizabeth blurted out. Her aunt was silent for another moment.

"No, my dear, but we women do not have it easy in this life. Your mother has discussed a tentative arrangement with the man's mother. Morgan Gore has six thousand pounds a year but has a sickly constitution. His mother worries about him. Your mother must have fed Mrs. Gore's fear when she pushed for this arrangement. He has a good education but has yet to travel or see much of the world due to his health. You do not have to marry him. Your father promises me he won't force you if you are not inclined towards Mr. Gore after meeting him."

Elizabeth felt a sigh of relief. But she still thought she wouldn't like this stranger. She enjoyed being outdoors, in nature, seeing the world, and meeting different people. Surely a sickly husband wouldn't suit her.

Her aunt took Elizabeth's hand and added, "I want you to know that I will leave my fortune to Mary, Jane and you. I'm sure your mother will be up in arms when she hears of this. Her precious Lydia and her without a penny. She may make your father's life hell with her protest or spend all the money she doesn't have to try to contest my will. But my lawyer has written an iron-clad will, and my business partner and a judge friend will be the executors. Fanny will not have a chance. But there comes a price with not being married, with strange looks on your lifestyle."

"I'd rather be like you, Aunt Magdalene. I don't want to marry a man and be absolutely miserable."

"My dear, it is a lonely life. That's why I turned to charity work, the babies and the children… I was unable to have a child of my own due to my stubbornness,"

"It's not stubbornness. It's bravery!" Magdalene laughed, her face flushed.

"I appreciate that, dear, but I would rather speak plainly to you. If not Morgan Gore, what of…Lord Ripley?" she said slowly, smiling.

"Mr Darcy?"

"Yes, he's intelligent, and despite his demeanour, he is rather kind."

Elizabeth was confused. She didn't understand.

"Would you rather I married Mr. Darcy? Aunt Magdalene, I have never met a more rude and boorish man. He thought I was your companion! And he wasn't nice to the orange lady at the church and his sister at the bookshop. I'd never marry him."

"He has had a difficult life, dear. I suppose he and I share something in common with facing the trials and tribulations of society. We simply cannot escape it."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, there is me, a spinster who sings to her own tune. And there is his family problems. He has been the guardian of Lady Georgiana since their mother died. Indeed, their mother had an illness,"

"Mother mentioned it. What kind of illness?"

"One of the mind, dear, do you understand? Lady Anne Darcy often acted out in…certain ways, none of which was her fault. And I'm afraid Darcy felt the brunt of it as a child." Elizabeth and her aunt were silent for a moment. She had no idea he was suffering in that way. She didn't understand why her aunt was telling her this. She felt confused. She thought her aunt would give her some comfort and answers, but she's been left more confused than before.

~0~

Darcy hadn't thought about the repercussions of the night before. He had, of course, disappointed Richard but the fact that he had attended the ball in the first place must have been a massive improvement. Darcy assumed Richard would be proud of him for his efforts, but a certain feeling at the back of his throat told him otherwise. He felt the same feeling whenever he knew Georgiana was up to something with the Wickham boy and when dancing with Ms. Caroline. Even the image of that woman in his mind had sent shivers down his spine. Still, he felt no remorse for her ridiculous behaviour. He would not be sorry for her. Surely his good friends would understand the situation's absurdity and sympathise with his plight. At around two o'clock in the afternoon, while Darcy was idly wading through paperwork at his desk, he heard banging at the door.

Strangely, the elderly housekeeper Darcy inherited from his mother, Mrs. Bates, had come running to alert him of a guest's presence, but Darcy could see from the window in his desk that Bingley had come unannounced, looking haggard. Darcy wondered if Bingley had been drinking. His friend's riding boots were caked with mud, and he wore a mismatched outfit. Perhaps Bingley had continued drinking well into the night. Darcy had left in time to escape any ballroom dramatics that may have occurred after he left. He feared the dramatics that Miss Caroline had caused might be the cause for Bingley's arrival.

"Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley is outside -" Mrs. Bates voice croaked, with a sense of urgency she was used to whenever Georgiana had done something she shouldn't have.

"Yes, Mrs. Bates, I saw him. You can bring him in." Mrs. Bates stood there as if she didn't understand what Darcy was saying.

"Sir, forgive me for saying this, but I don't think we should let him in." She, who was as dutiful as any housekeeper, if not beyond that, stood defiantly in front of Darcy.

"Mrs. Bates, I said you can send the footman to let him in. Send him to the drawing room and offer some refreshments. I will be there promptly."

"Sir, Mr. Bingley does not seem to be in his right mind,"

"What do you mean?"

"I-I can't explain it, Sir. Forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but he looked so…haggard. He reminded me of some kind of animal. I thought he might punch a hole in our front door to grab me when I walked past it."

Darcy could see the fear in Mrs. Bates's eyes, and if she stood still enough, he could tell her hands were trembling. He wouldn't want to make her uncomfortable, even though she had been a nervous woman for as long as he had known her.

"Very well, let me see to him. Thank you,"

She bowed and scuttled off as far away from the house's front door as possible. Darcy took a deep breath to compose himself. He couldn't imagine what sort of state Bingley might be in to come barging into his home. Perhaps Bingley was in some trouble. Or maybe the events of the ball were too much for him and he simply had to come to Darcy for advice. Darcy soon heard more banging at the door. Bingley was banging so furiously Darcy thought his hands might bleed. He lunged for Darcy no sooner had Darcy gotten the footman to let Bingley in.

"What have you done?"

Darcy could hardly take a breath. Bingley's hands squeezed so tightly against his collar that he could scarcely gasp for air.

"Bingley, what is this? What's going on?"

"At the ball, what did you do to my cousin? My mother hasn't slept a wink, and my family is up in arms - what is it that you said to her?" Bingley wouldn't let go. Darcy tried to push him off, but his grip was too tight. The smell of alcohol and sweat was so overpowering he thought he might vomit on him.

"Bingley, let me go at once and explain what's going on!" He was unrelenting, and soon he and Darcy were in a heap on the carpet. Mrs. Bates was right about Bingley's feral demeanour. Darcy felt as if he were being clawed at by a wild animal.

"What is going on here!" Palmer, Darcy's new valet, boomed. A footman and Palmer pulled Bingley off of Darcy; he was strong for a man his age and held Bingley's arms in place as he spat and bit at the air.

"You! Darcy, you knew exactly what you were doing. You've made a mockery of my family and me, promising her marriage and rejecting her publicly!"

"I can assure you I did no such thing, Bingley. If you don't calm down, you will be more than restrained by my valet. I can tell you that. What on earth has gotten into you?"

Bingley finally stopped his animal-like behaviour and slumped to the ground. He even had an ugly scratch on his cheek to match his devilish action. Palmer still had his hands around Bingley's arms. Bingley pulled away, putting his hands in his face. Darcy was mortified by this display of madness. Even so, he could tell Bingley was troubled more than anything had ever bothered him. In all their years of friendship, he had never seen him act like that.

"Bingley, why don't you calm down and come into my study and explain what is going on? Palmer, you can let go of him." Palmer relented. He stood by Darcy's side like a guard.

"That will be all for now, Palmer. I can handle this."

"But Sir-" Darcy gave him a look, pleading with him to go, and Palmer reluctantly took his leave. Darcy dragged Bingley into his study. As soon as Bingley was in, he stumbled to the decanter and poured himself a drink - his hands shaking as he did. It made Darcy feel ill watching it.

"Are you sure you should be drinking?" Bingley gave him an odd look and took a long swig of the alcohol. He slumped into a chair.

"Now, tell me, what on earth is going on?"

"Caroline." He slurred.

"What about the woman?"

"Morgan and I are engaged with her." He slurred, on the verge of tears. Darcy could not shake the sense of relief he felt but was still horrified by the state of his friend.

"How can both of you be engaged to be married? And to the same woman? And what business do you have barging in here in the state that you were in?"

"Because, Darce, if you didn't cause her to make a scene in the way that you did, this never would have happened."

"What scene?"

"You know what scene I'm talking about! When she ran off in tears for whatever reason and whatever you told her, I went to follow her. I went by the gardens. Morgan was there already, taking a breath of fresh air. We found her crying by a series of, you know, those green fellows…"

"Bushes?"

"Yes, bushes! We found her crying, and naturally, we asked what was wrong. She kept saying, 'Darcy this, or that Darcy has broken my heart and made me feel horrid'. She said she was so embarrassed - "Darcy tried to interrupt him to explain her behaviour, but Bingley insisted on finishing his melodramatic story.

"I tried to comfort her as a good cousin and gentleman would. Morgan tried the same - something you have failed to do, Darce -"

"Now that's not-"

"Listen to me! She pulled Morgan down beside her, against her bosom as you had described, and she forced her lips upon him, tearing his neckcloth. I tried to tear her away from Morgan, but I stumbled and accidentally tore her sleeve. She tried to push me away and scratched my face. The moment the three of us were in a heap on the ground, a group of guests spotted us in that position. I don't have to tell you what that would mean for her reputation…"

"And for Morgan's and yours."

"You don't have to remind me! So now, to shorten the story to save me from reliving it, Morgan has been taken home, sick. I couldn't discuss with him about who to marry the woman. In the meantime, I am sure the gossip about the incident will be all over England. She would be ruined, and my family would be too!"

Darcy could not act surprised at this; he knew that one of the men he knew would have to suffer from her ridiculousness. He was sorry it had happened to Morgan and Bingley but felt relieved that he had not been trapped in such a situation. He felt nothing but pity for his friends and the problem. But he felt a sense of determination now more than ever to get a hold of Elizabeth Bennet, to introduce himself formally and perhaps start courting. He would be busy with the harvest shortly, and the sooner he got this business of getting a wife completed, the better.

"What am I to do?"

Bingley was on the verge of tears. Bingley stumbled back to the cabinet that held the decanter before Darcy could stop him.

"I don't think you should be drinking, Bingley," His friend gave Darcy a warning look.

"But of course, given the situation, I think it's acceptable," Darcy said.

"What am I to do?" Bingley wailed, knowing Darcy wouldn't have a solution. Indeed, Darcy didn't know what to say that might comfort him.

"We may need to consult Ricky," said Darcy.

"You haven't called him that in years. And do you think this is such a good idea? I have ruined Ricky's ball."

"Well, it seems this is a time for friendship." Mr. Darcy smiled at Bingley, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Dear Sunday friends, I hope you enjoyed the drama in the Darcy and Bennet households. Do remember to send me some encouragement and speculations! Big hugs from hot Sydney, Enid