Miss Darcy and Miss Bennet would not have met in any other circumstance. Their temperaments were quite unmatched. Where one was shy, the other was suspicious. Where one was energetic, the other was determined. They would have been destined to hate each other, were it not for their shared loneliness and the few interests that held them both in sway.
As they ate breakfast on their first day together, their polite conversation quickly dissolved into an argument about popular verse. By lunch time they were climbing upon the library shelves to show each other their favourite authors, and by tea time they were utterly exhausted.
Mary expected her hostess to retreat for another early night, but the weary glow in Georgiana's eyes transformed into a candlelight softness. She sat down at a beautiful painted piano, and let her fingers drift over the keys.
Did she know that she was playing? Mary thought not. The girl moved as if she were dancing, and sound moved with her. Her fingers barely seemed to touch the keys, but the notes rang out like the sweetest bells. Then they were dark, the fathom-dark of the endless seas. Georgiana closed her eyes and seemed to sleep as her dreams crept into her fingertips and sang out into the waking world.
Mary knew not how long she sat there for. She was enraptured. She was only aware of time passing because the servants crept into the room to build up the fire and light fresh candles. She wished they had not; the music demanded darkness. It shied away from the crackle of the fire. It could not bear warmth.
An owl shrieked outside and Georgiana flinched. She looked up at the door for a wild instant as if she expected to see somebody there, and then coloured and looked around.
"Mary," she sighed, "I am sorry. I lost myself. It is your turn to play."
"I cannot play like… that."
Georgiana went a little pale. Her white hands instinctively closed the piano lid over the keys. Mary leapt to her feet and opened it again.
"I meant that you are far more t…talented than I."
"This is not talent." Georgiana frowned when Mary urged her to play again, and shut the lid, "No, it is gone. I feel quite empty."
Mary sat beside her on the duet stool and ran her finger along the embossed letters on the lid.
"This is a b…beautiful instrument."
Georgiana looked down, but did not touch it.
"My brother bought it for me."
"Mr. Darcy?"
"I have no other brother," she smiled, "I do not think the world could bear more than one! And I certainly could not. He is quite enough on his own."
"It is strange to hear him spoken about so irreverently."
"Of course. I give you leave to gossip about him to your heart's content. Heaven knows we have shared enough stories about your sisters! Fitzwilliam is not so much of an enigma that he cannot be teased."
"That is what my sister says," Mary replied eagerly, "I think that is why he likes her."
Georgiana tilted her head to one side. Her curls drooped over her ear, making her look like a curious puppy.
"He has told me a little about Elizabeth, but nothing that makes me think he prefers her company to anyone else's."
"He prefers her to Caroline!"
"My dear, that only proves that he is sane. A porcupine is a more fitting companion than that creature."
"What is a porcupine?"
Georgiana leapt to her feet and beckoned Mary to follow her. To the woman's surprise, Miss Darcy kicked off her stockings and gestured for her to do the same. They ran through the huge house barefoot, shrieking as they slipped around the corners. Mary laughed as she realised that Georgiana was, in many respects, a child with a very large dolls house to play in. The servants smiled indulgently at her as she flew past.
They were out of breath before they reached the rear of the building. Georgiana unlocked the door to reveal a study filled with glass cases. She raised a candle to each one. Mary saw stuffed rabbits and shrews, swans and badgers, and then finally a large animal covered in long, sharp quills.
"It looks like Caroline," Georgiana said conversationally. Mary smothered a laugh and looked around the dark room. A huge bear was bolted onto one wall. She shook her head.
"This must have been an interesting house to grow up in."
"In truth, I spent very little time here. Our house in the country is better." Georgiana said without a trace of boastfulness. Mary bit her tongue before she could tease the girl, only to find that Georgiana was smiling at her.
It felt like they had known each other for years, not for hours. Mary reached out and closed her fingers around Georgiana's delicate hand. Her fingers were calloused from piano playing. Mary's were just as marred.
Georgiana kissed her cheek.
"I am glad we are friends."
The next morning was bright and warm, and Mary suggested that they go for a walk. Georgiana's nose wrinkled at the thought. She gave her new friend a long lecture on the comparative beauty of the countryside before the housekeeper bullied her into putting on her cloak.
"I am familiar with the countryside, but I have not seen London." Mary said stubbornly, "You do not want me to get lost, do you?"
Georgiana pulled a face at her and watched a servant pulling her boot laces through the eyelets with a hook.
They walked through the park first, and then at Mary's urging on into the streets. The fashionable streets of London were a far cry from the dark, dirty gutters near Cheapside. They fell into step and stared through windows at bright ribbons, bolts of silk and exquisite pastries. Mary's enjoyment turned into embarrassment when, after she praised a delicate swathe of lace, Georgiana sent her maid to buy it.
"The expense!" she gasped, "I c…cannot…"
"You stutter more when you're surprised." Georgiana said absentmindedly, and gave Mary's hand a squeeze, "I never buy gifts for anyone except my brother, and he is tediously dull. Let me cosset you!"
"But I cannot return the favour."
"What favour? Am I in trade!" Georgiana's eyes opened wide. Some of her disgust, Mary realised, was not feigned. The girl was from old money, and the thought of being compared to a mercenary family like the Bingleys made insult resonate through her skull. Then she smirked, and Mary realised that she had been tricked.
"We will share it." Mary announced, and held up her hand when Georgiana tried to protest, "No, we shall re-make our bonnets with it together."
Georgiana grumbled a little, but agreed. Mary caught her whispering to her servant a while later: they would have new straw bonnets to trim. The thought of remaking was unheard of to Miss Darcy.
"Now," Georgiana said when they were settled in a cosy coffee shop with hot cups of tea before them, "We are away from prying ears! What shall we talk about?"
Mary sipped her tea and added a little more lemon, "Why did Caroline tell you about Jane? It has been troubling me."
"She believes that I should marry her brother." Georgiana said with a sharpness that belied her sweet, innocent appearance, "It will allow her to grow closer to Fitzwilliam. Heaven knows she needs an intractable bond to keep welcoming her into our home. Charles's friendship is not enough, and although she pretends to be close to me she dislikes me too much to keep up the façade."
"But why tell you about Jane?"
"She is jealous of her, and wants me to feel the same way. I do not." Georgiana rolled her shoulders in something dangerously close to a mannish shrug, "It is nothing to me if Charles marries someone else. He loves me as little as I love him."
"He is handsome enough, and rich."
"He is also simple-minded and tone-deaf." Georgiana said the last as if it were the greatest insult in the world. Mary bit back a giggle and then sobered.
"I want my sister to be happy. If Caroline is trying to interfere then I fear for her."
Georgiana was silent for a while, and then gripped Mary's hand.
"I have it! We can ask my brother to protect her. If we tell her what is going on, then he can speak to Charles and ensure that he and Jane are reconciled!"
Mary caught her breath, "You would do that?"
"I will try." Georgiana beamed.
As soon as they returned home, Georgiana took out her writing case and composed a letter to Mr. Darcy. She wrote so rapidly that Mary's eyes could barely keep up.
My dear brother,
I have just heard some news which has grieved me so much that I thought I should tell you at once. Be not alarmed – I am quite well, and no disaster has befallen Pemberley! My news concerns my dear friend Mary, and her sister Jane, who I believe you were fortunate enough to meet in Netherfield Park.
I have discovered that Jane is in London to meet Charles, who expressed a great desire to see her again. Following all proper courtesies, she called upon his sister and was turned away in some disgrace. I fear that she has no chance of seeing Charles without some intervention. You know I cannot interfere myself, as I am still obedient to your wishes, but I feel compelled to entreat you to help us in this endeavour.
Sent with love and hope, your sister Georgiana
Mary dusted the letter.
"What do you mean by 'obedient to your wishes', Georgiana?"
"I am forbidden to enter society, or to visit friends, without my brother's consent." She said shortly, folding the paper into a square.
The next morning, Mary was awoken by a frantic tapping on her door. She pushed herself up blearily and croaked out,
"Come in!"
"Mary!" Georgiana burst in wearing an immaculate morning dress. Mary coloured and pulled the blanket up over her nightdress, but the girl pulled a face at her, "Oh, don't worry about that. Look, he wrote back!"
"Already?" Mary rubbed her eyes and gaped at the letter. Georgiana nodded and slit open the seal with a crumb-laden butter knife she had brought with her. Her excitement was infectious; Mary felt her cheeks stretch in a smile. Then Georgiana's eyes fell to the text, and she froze, and the paper dropped from her fingers.
"Oh." She said.
Mary picked up the letter and steeled herself.
Georgiana,
I trust you will not reveal the contents of this letter to your companion, although that is perhaps a vain hope. You seem quite happy to entrust our private affairs to a relative stranger. Be warned that this letter will please her as little as yourself.
I must correct you.
I have been aware of Miss Jane Bennet's presence in London since her departure from Longborne last month. She made no secret of her plans, aided by a mother who boasted of her daughter's escapades days before they came about. Her father relayed much of the matter to me as I made travel arrangements for Miss Mary Bennet to join you.
Do not think I am ignorant simply because I am not standing beside you.
I believe you have misjudged Miss Jane's character, and am sorry to have to enlighten you. Remember that you have never met her, but have rather read stories about her told by the loving, biased pen of her beloved sister. I do not blame Miss Mary for her affection; her falsehoods are innocently told – but you should be more circumspect.
I should not have to remind you of the danger in believing every story you are told.
You know as well as I do what people will resort to when poverty and desperation are their masters. I shall say no more, only warn you to remove yourself from the matter at hand.
I shall act as I see fit.
Your brother, F.
Mary felt moisture on her cheeks, and reached up to wipe a tear away. Georgiana shuddered beside her.
"It is my fault," she wept, "Why does he not let me forget? Everything I try to do has been spoiled!"
"What was he talking about? What did he mean?" Mary exclaimed. Georgiana straightened up, wiped her eyes, and began to speak.
And what a tale it was!
After a long time, Mary reached out and pulled the girl into her arms.
"I will help your sister," Georgiana croaked unsteadily, "I swear it."