Page 27
“They are,” he confirmed with a small smile. There was a pause, then Georgiana nodded.
“Then I had best be my most calm self, and prepare to listen,” she said, as though she were giving herself instructions.
“That is entirely the right approach,” Darcy said, hoping he had adequately concealed his amusement, and went to inform Mrs Reynolds of the impending arrival.
Mrs Reynolds showed the guests into the drawing room a short time later with the particular pride she showed when introducing Pemberley to guests whom she considered worth impressing, a distinction which Darcy noted with more than a little private satisfaction. Caroline Bingley had swept in, exclaiming her delight to be here, to see Darcy, to see Georgiana, and to stay for an extended time. She was already eyeing the furnishings and asking questions about paintings that he suspected she cared nothing about. Bingley shook his hand with his usual warmth, thanking him for the invitation and making a light-hearted jest before stepping back to the corner nearest Jane Bennet. Mr Bennet greeted him with thanks, but with the flustered manner of a man who had done more travelling than he cared to, and who was going to communicate that without actually complaining about it.
Georgiana stood near the window as the guest entered, her posture stiff and straight. Darcy couldn’t tell if she had chosen that spot on purpose, or if it was just where she happened to be when she realised she could not gracefully flee. As he had suspected would happen, Miss Bingley was bearing down upon her, and Georgiana greeted her with a tight smile that Darcy recognised as a smile maintained through an effort of will rather than through genuine pleasure.
“My dear Georgiana!” Miss Bingley said, her voice heavy with an intrusive intimacy, “It has been an age since I have seen you. An age!” she repeated, taking the girl’s hands and clasping them in her own. “You look very well — that colour is a most excellent choice for you! And I see you have redone this room since last I’ve been here. I noticed the changes immediately, and they are most charming, though I wonder if you’ve thought of putting the pianoforte where it would receive the light from the east? Regardless, it is delightful as it is, perfectly delightful!”
Georgiana blinked, the forced smile wavering in the face of the onslaught. She looked at Darcy in a mute appeal for assistance. He was stepping forward to intervene when Elizabeth appeared on Georgiana’s other side, Miss Bennet beside her.
“I am Elizabeth Bennet,” she said. They exchanged bows, forcing Miss Bingley to let go of Georgiana’s hands. “And this is my eldest sister, Jane,” she continued, turning Georgiana slightly for the introduction and neatly moving the girl away from Miss Bingley. Darcy could not but admire the smooth way in which Miss Bingley had been cut out.
“I am so delighted to meet you,” Jane Bennet said with a gentle smile. “Thank you for welcoming us into your home.”
Some of the tightness in Georgiana’s shoulders relaxed. “I am quite glad you are here,” she said, her voice sounding less forced. “I have been — that is, we — my brother and I — have been looking forward to it. The house has been very quiet.”
“Quiet is the mood of winter generally,” Elizabeth agreed, moving slightly so she was flanking Georgiana’s other side. “Though I found that the quiet one feels in January and the one that descends in March are entirely different moods. January’s quiet broods and sulks for the long winter still to come, while March’s quiet is that of anticipation, though waiting for the explosion of life brought by the spring. I imagine that that waiting-quiet time is quite lovely at Pemberley, and I look forward to seeing it through to spring.”
Georgiana actually laughed with amusement at that, though she quickly stopped, worried about causing offense. But Elizabeth’s warm smile reassured her, and she dared to answer. “I had never thought about it like that, but you are exactly right. In spring, the park is most lovely. There is a walk along the north bank that has what feels like miles of bluebells. The scent is delicious and carries quite a way.”
“That does sound lovely,” Elizabeth said, smiling. “I hope you will show me that walk when they are out.” Georgiana nodded eagerly and started to tell Elizabeth and Miss Bennet of other places on the grounds she thought they would enjoy.
Darcy relaxed, seeing that Georgiana was smiling, genuinely now, and that the Bennet sisters were answering her with a seriousness and interest that made his sister feel approached as an equal, rather than as a child. He realised he was watching the interaction rather more closely than required, and made himself look away.
“Don’t you think the pianoforte would be better there?” Miss Bingley said to her sister, perhaps not as softly as she had intended. Mrs Hurst nodded as expected, but looked somewhat embarrassed. Elizabeth’s eyes flickered to her, and she asked Georgiana a question about a group of trees visible from the window, keeping the girl’s attention away from the other women.
After a few moments, Mrs Annesley, who had remained properly in the background, approached Georgiana before the excitement of arrival could give way to awkwardness. “Miss Darcy,” she said. “I wanted to let you know that your guests’ rooms are prepared for them, whenever you wish for them to be shown where they will stay.” Georgiana coloured slightly, recognising the gentle instruction, but Darcy was pleased that Mrs Annesley had framed the situation in such a way to allow Georgiana to take the lead.
“Thank you, Mrs Annesley,” she said, with just a bit of hesitation. She looked at Elizabeth and Miss Bennet first, then around the room. “Please, if you would like to be shown to your rooms, Mrs Reynolds will be happy to take you there. I am sure that you must be tired from your journey, and would like some time to rest and refresh yourselves before dinner.”
The suggestion was received with a murmur of gratitude from everyone, the most pronounced of which coming from Mr Bennet, who moved toward the door with more haste than was his wont, and Mr Hurst, who had been leaning quietly against the fireplace, reviving only at the prospect of being able to lie down somewhere more comfortable.
Mrs Reynolds led the guests out in a cheerful procession, Georgiana accompanying them. Darcy watched them go, noticing, as he had so many times before, how Elizabeth Bennet moved through every room she was in as though she belonged there. He had thought rather more than he should about why that should be so, and, as he watched her ask Georgiana a question, and saw how his sister’s eyes lit up as she responded, he thought it might just be that Elizabeth always paid complete attention, both to the location and to the people surrounding her, and so any room she entered was better ordered than it had been before she arrived.
Not for the first time, he admonished himself for thinking such things.
He could not deny, however, that he already liked the way she was bringing her own order to Pemberley, and to Georgiana.
With that, Darcy sighed and retreated to his study, where the post had been laid out in his absence. He intended to spend the next hour doing something practical about his feelings, which was to say, thoroughly ignoring them in favour of attending to his correspondence.
He was about to open a letter from his solicitor when he noticed one sent from an army post.
Fitzwilliam’s covering letter, containing all his cousin’s customary ready wit and warm feeling, contained another. It was not a long letter, barely a page, in fact, and written in the cramped hand of a man who is economical with both paper and words. He read through it quickly, then stared at it for a moment before reading through it again, slower this time.
At last, the response to the inquiries Fitzwilliam had made on his behalf had come. Lieutenant Harmon, who had served alongside Colonel Fitzwilliam before obtaining his own commission, briefly expressed his pleasure at being able to help a relative of his friend, then launched into the purpose of the letter. His information on Wickham was conscientious, unsparing, and damning.
It all tallied with Darcy’s own knowledge of the scoundrel. Lieutenant Harmon wrote that the man had large debts, made no particular effort toward reducing them, and was well-liked by junior officers but distrusted by everyone over the rank of captain. He had been absent without leave twice in the autumn, and both absences had lasted two days. The lieutenant had included the specific dates, as requested.
Darcy set the letter down on his desk, but his eyes stayed fixed on the second set of dates.
Wickham’s second instance of unapproved leave had fallen on the day of and the day after the Netherfield ball.
He had believed that Wickham had been at Netherfield that night, based on the identification by another officer, but now he had confirmation that Wickham had indeed been given leave on that date. From what Elizabeth had told him, he also knew that Lydia Bennet had gone to the library that night expecting to meet someone in private, someone that she was familiar enough with to agree to such a meeting. He did not yet have the solid proof of a confession, but it was too much to merely be a coincidence.
Wickham was a grown man, nearer to thirty than to twenty, in uniform, with every social advantage that a handsome face and charming manner could provide. Whereas Lydia Bennet was a girl of fifteen, who found everything exciting and did not understand what the cost of an indiscretion could be. Wickham knew that cost, had tried to enact it on Darcy’s own sister, but Wickham did not care.
