by Jennifer Joy
Mother pursed her lips together. "You ought to go to a different shop this time," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.
"Why should we try somewhere new when their work was excellent, and they already know what we like?"
"Very well. Do as you see fit, I suppose. When you return home, I shall most likely be out. I have some business to take care of at Mrs. Robinson’s, and I do not know how long it will take."
“I wish you would not go there, Mama.” Elizabeth’s cheerful morning took a worried turn.
“Do not concern yourself, Lizzy. Enjoy your time with Miss Lucas,” said Mother, turning to leave, her stiff silk skirts rustling as she walked down the hall.
Charlotte wiggled her fingers into her gloves. "I do wish that Jane would have accompanied us. She seems so melancholy. Have you had any news about Mr. Bingley?"
Elizabeth sighed. "We have not. Mr. Darcy told me that he wrote to him, but that was over a month ago."
"In February? Did not the post delay delivery during the fog?"
"Yes, but the delay only lasted a week. Mr. Bingley has had more than enough time to receive his letter and act on it— if he desired to see Jane again," she added in a whisper. "I am glad that she, Lydia, and Kitty have decided to spend the day with Aunt Gardiner. She has a cheerful, nurturing disposition and our little cousins will distract Jane from her sadness."
Charlotte was willing, so they decided to walk the distance to the dress shop. Living in town had its advantages, but Elizabeth sorely missed the freedom of the country. She hoped that whoever she married had a country estate. Like Pemberley. Not that Mr. Darcy would ever ask for her hand… her and her sharp tongue.
"What are you thinking about so intently?" asked Charlotte.
Elizabeth considered giving a light retort. But Charlotte was a good friend. She could trust her with the contents of her heart.
"I am thinking about Mr. Darcy." She felt herself blush as she said his name. Before, she said it with disdain, but now, things had changed.
"And what do you think of him?" asked Charlotte.
"I hardly know what to think. My opinion of him now is as different as the night is from the day from what it was some months ago. I should not have judged him so harshly."
"Did you not tell me that Mr. Darcy admitted to a resentful nature? That once his good opinion was lost, it was lost forever?"
"Yes," Elizabeth said slowly, wondering where Charlotte’s reasoning would lead.
"Interesting," she said, walking in silence for a maddeningly long time before continuing. "I have to wonder…. You have done everything possible through your manners and speech to discourage Mr. Darcy from any attempt at a friendship. And yet, you are friends."
Elizabeth nearly tripped on the uneven footpath. "It is true. I should have lost his good opinion long ago, yet he gave me every opportunity to see him at his best and his worst. I cannot help but feel that he has been patient with me for some unexplained reason." She slowed her pace, her thoughts heavy on her.
"I wonder why that is," said Charlotte.
Could it be? Dare she flatter herself so much as to believe that Mr. Darcy regarded her kindly?
She could not say the words out loud. "I wonder," she said.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Really, Lizzy? You do not see what is so plain to any other observer? I would bet my recently acquired winnings that he likes you— and not merely as a friend for his sister. He has liked you for some time now."
Elizabeth's body felt so light, she thought she might float away into the soft, puffy clouds in the blue sky.
"Do you really think so? What proof do you have?"
"Every time he is in your company, he only has eyes for you. I noticed it first at the Netherfield Ball. When he called yesterday, he seemed jealous and looked like he wished he could send Mr. Gordon out of the door."
"I thought he looked like he wished to leave."
Charlotte shook her head vigorously. "No. A man like Mr. Darcy would never admit defeat before a dandy like Mr. Gordon. He will have his say and take his chances before he would bow out of a fight."
"They are two very different gentlemen, are they not?"
"They are. And you have the attention of both of them."
They reached the door of the dress shop. The bell rang as they entered, but no one rushed to attend to them as they had the last time. Odd that. The owner looked up from her book ledger, frowned, then continued writing before she finally closed the book and greeted them.
Her mood improved when they explained how Charlotte needed a new gown. It improved even more when Charlotte stipulated costs and arranged to pay half of the amount that moment and the rest on receipt of the gown. Elizabeth was forced to reflect on how difficult it must be for some businesses to receive payment for their hard work. Extracting money from even the richest ladies in town must be no small task.
Elizabeth looked at the clock ticking in the corner. Sophia had agreed to meet them at the dress shop, then they would treat Charlotte to a repast at a nice tea shop nearby.
While Charlotte picked the design of her dress, Elizabeth let her mind wander, nodding when she was required to do so. Charlotte did not need her help in choosing trimmings nor in selecting a design. The shopkeeper was much more qualified than she.
Surrounded by luxurious trappings and brilliant colors, Elizabeth reminded herself of her purpose in wishing to come to town. Though her family possessed a fortune, she did not feel secure. She still needed to marry. She had hoped that, by now, Jane could have found happiness with Mr. Bingley, but as the weeks passed with no information from the gentleman, the hope she had felt so strongly had begun to fade. She felt shiftless. Neither she nor Jane had progressed much in the marriage market. Jane was not interested, and she… she dared not believe that Mr. Darcy held her in any higher regard than he held Sophia.
She sat in a chair by one of the fitting rooms, leaving Charlotte alone with the shopkeeper. Why could Elizabeth not be so simple and reasonable as Charlotte? Why could Mr. Darcy not be so easy to read as Mr. Gordon? She rarely understood his expressions, and so she was forever uncertain as to what he thought unless he spoke it. Elizabeth was certain of Mr. Darcy’s friendship, but did he feel more for her? How she wished she could read his mind!
The bell chimed and Sophia entered, her flowery perfume filling the room.
With an embrace, Sophia said, "I am so sorry that I am late. I ran into Mr. Gordon on my way here." Leaning in, she added, "He is quite taken with you, Elizabeth. I should not be surprised if he proposes before the Season even begins."
Elizabeth tried to smile.
"I am only glad that you were able to join us. Charlotte Lucas has been my friend since infancy, and I just know that you will love her as much as I do." She looped her arm through Sophia's, and they proceeded to the counter.
Elizabeth had not known what to expect, but she had assumed that her two best friends would soon adopt the same warmth and camaraderie she enjoyed with each of them. She made introductions and waited while the two ladies considered each other at a distance.
Finally, Charlotte smiled and said, "I am happy to make your acquaintance, Miss Kingsley. I have heard many wonderful things about you."
Putting her hand over her heart, Sophia said, "Oh, my dear Miss Lucas, what a kind thing to say. I look forward to seeing for myself if all the praise Elizabeth has lavished upon you is true."
Elizabeth watched the two women facing each other with their shoulders stiff and their expressions controlled. All would be well by the time they reached the tea shop.
The shopkeeper motioned to Elizabeth. "Miss Elizabeth, might I please have a word with you? It will only take a moment. Perhaps Miss Kingsley will offer her opinion on Miss Lucas' selections." Looking at Charlotte, she added, "Miss Kingsley has excellent taste in fashion, and her opinion is much sought after. You are very fortunate to have her here."
Elizabeth did not want to leave Charlotte and Sophia alone, but she could t
hink of no reason to deny the shopkeeper her request.
She led Elizabeth to a small room behind the counter. An open ledger lay on top of the desk with two chairs in front of it.
"I apologize for causing you any discomfort, Miss Elizabeth. It pains me to have to approach you about this." She wrung her hands together. "You see, I have already appealed to Mrs. Bennet several times. I have sent bills of payment to your home, but as yet, I have not received any remuneration for my work."
Elizabeth sat up in her chair. "You have not been paid for our gowns?" she asked in shock.
"No. Miss Elizabeth, my seamstresses have families to feed. They cannot afford to not be paid for their hard work."
Elizabeth held her hand up. "I understand, and it is I who must apologize to you. This is the first mention I have heard of it, and I will speak directly to my father about it as soon as I return home." Not that Father would be there. She would hunt him down at his club if need be.
"Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. I knew I could rely on you. If you would please be so kind as to tell Mrs. Bennet that I will not make any more dresses for her until payment is received, I would appreciate it."
Elizabeth stood. "I will take it upon myself to set things right."
They left the room to join Sophia and Charlotte, and Elizabeth did her best to appear as light-hearted as she usually was. It was difficult to do when her thoughts were occupied in an anxious bend. If Mother had not paid the dressmaker, who else had not been paid?
Looping her arm possessively through hers, Sophia said, "It pains me to change our plans for this afternoon, but I promised Miss Darcy that I would listen to her practice her instrument today. She has become rather reliant on my support, and I would hate to disappoint her. Perhaps we can go for tea with Miss Lucas another day?"
The day seemed intent on ruining Elizabeth’s mood. Sophia’s claim on the Darcys' affection rubbed Elizabeth the wrong way.
"You will enjoy your afternoon then. I have only heard Georgiana play briefly, and she is truly talented."
"She let you listen to her play?" Sophia asked.
"Only for a moment." In reality, it had been an entire piece. Elizabeth had turned the pages of the music for her while she practiced her favorite piece. However, something in Sophia's manners told her that that information would not be appreciated.
Tossing her shoulder to the side, Sophia said, "I would not impose if it were my own doing, but Darcy asked me to spend some more time with Georgiana. She lacks in many of the social skills she will need next year when she comes out in society, and he thinks that I am best suited to help her."
Elizabeth's gut clenched. "If Mr. Darcy requested your help, I do not doubt but that you are best suited for the task," she said mechanically.
"It was charming to meet you, Miss Lucas," Sophia said. Turning to Elizabeth, she added, "I will call tomorrow."
Elizabeth watched Sophia flounce out of the dress shop. Had her hair been a lighter color, Elizabeth could easily have confused her with Miss Bingley.
Chapter 22
Charlotte measured Elizabeth with her eyes just as the seamstress measured her for her dress. She was silent for the moment, but Elizabeth was certain that Charlotte would tell her what was on her mind later. It was for the best. Elizabeth's mind roiled. How many other businesses had Mother failed to pay? How much did she owe? Had Father done as he said and secured their income? Had Sophia set her sights on Mr. Darcy? Did he love her?
The final details noted, Elizabeth practically dashed for the door to leave the dress shop. "Charlotte, I will gladly return with you later today for our visit to the tea shop, but right now, I must find Father." Her breath came in shallow bursts.
"Of course. I could sense that something was wrong. Can I be of any assistance?" she asked reassuringly.
"I do not yet know. It could be nothing, but I have such a sense of foreboding."
"Could it have something to do with Miss Kingsley's claims?" Charlotte stepped closer, resting her hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. "Could it be, Lizzy, that she sees you as competition for Mr. Darcy?"
“Sophia was raised with them, that is all. If she had any inclination toward Mr. Darcy, why would she wait so long? They are of the same age." Her words ran out of steam like a chilling tea kettle, and she no longer believed them, though she wished to with a desperation she had never felt before. The nauseating churning of her stomach only added to her misery.
"You ought to be watchful around her. I do not trust her," warned Charlotte.
Caught between doubt and defensiveness, Elizabeth said, "You do not know her."
"And you are an excellent judge of character? I thought you had learned your lesson. No, Lizzy, do not underestimate her or believe her to be a true friend. She is not the sort to put the interest of another ahead of her own."
Elizabeth knew in her heart that Charlotte was correct. Charlotte was always right. Had she not predicted Mr. Bingley's need for more encouragement from Jane? Had she not suggested that there was more to Mr. Darcy than Mr. Wickham's tragic claims against his character? Oh, if only she had listened to her sooner instead of stubbornly adhering to her own prejudiced views. Had she ruined her chances completely?
Darcy woke early. Rather, he got out of bed early. He had spent most of the night awake, deep in thought.
How could he woo a lady like Elizabeth? Flowers, frequent afternoon calls, and drives in the park did not feel like enough. He wanted her friendship. He wanted to earn her respect. He wanted her heartbeat to quicken when he walked into a room. Such lofty aspirations required action— which comforted Darcy. After all, he was a man of action.
The spring sun slowly filtered into Darcy House, lighting up the halls and illuminating the rooms. Maids and footmen scurried about in their duties, doing their best to go unobserved, and fleeing in consternation when they saw their master up so early.
Georgiana was already sitting at the long table when he entered the breakfast room. He immediately went to her. "Is all well, Georgie?" He reached for her hand, needing to reassure himself with a touch.
She looked tired. As if she, too, had not slept. How had he not noticed how fatigued she was earlier? Darcy clenched his jaw and sat beside her, never loosening his gentle hold on her hand.
"I am well. It is only that I am tired," she said softly.
She tried to smile, but she looked so sad, he wished he could curl her up on his lap like when she was a little girl. He would pet her hair and whisper stories until she forgot what had made her melancholy. Wickham had changed her. He felt his hand tighten and forced himself to loosen his grip or risk hurting the very sister he would die to protect.
Georgiana sighed and squirmed in her seat.
"What is it? Is there anything I can do to make you happy?"
She shifted her weight in her seat again, clearly uncomfortable with her thoughts. He bit his lips together to keep from pleading with her to share her burden. Patience was better.
With a deep breath, she said, "I am afraid to tell you because I am aware of certain events which require your presence here." She stopped, searching his eyes with her own.
"Do you wish to leave London?" he asked, careful not to look away from her.
"I do and I do not. I know that you wish to pursue a courtship with Elizabeth." She smiled and placed her free hand over her heart. "I like her very much, William. I cannot imagine a better sister for me. She is loyal, and I feel safe in her company." Looking down at her lap, she added, "She does not pretend to be anything but what she is."
"You cannot imagine my relief at hearing your good opinion of her, Georgie. I could never marry a lady you did not approve of and I must admit that the very qualities which you admire about Miss Elizabeth are among my favorites. There is no pretension in her— it was what drew me to her even before she understood the truth behind my character."
Georgiana’s face lengthened. "It is for that reason that I cannot ask you to leave. In fact, I stayed up all night convincing
myself that I ought to stay in town for the Season, so that you would not have to escort me back to Pemberley. Even traveling at an accelerated pace, you would be away for almost a week, and I cannot ask that of you."
Darcy began to understand. "But your heart desires to return to Pemberley?"
She sat silently.
"Please tell me what you wish, Georgie. You know that I would be miserable if any decision of mine made you unhappy. Speak freely, and know that whatever choice we make will be made together."
"I wish we could leave today for home. Sophia has been calling nearly every day. Normally, I enjoy her visits. She has always been like a sister to me, but… something has changed.”
“Changed?”
“I cannot tell you precisely what it is, for I hardly understand it myself. However, I no longer feel that I can relax in her presence. She insists on listening to me practice the pianoforte— something she never did before. It is not that I do not enjoy her company, but I feel that I have no room to breathe. Everywhere I turn, she is present and watching me." Her words came out fast, as if she wished to say them before she could stop herself.
Darcy had noticed Sophia's increased attentiveness to Georgiana. How could he miss it? However, she had so long been in their lives, he had not thought anything of it.
"I wish that she and Miss Elizabeth were not such close friends. I have taken advantage of the opportunities it gives me to be in Miss Elizabeth's company, but I wonder about Sophia's reasons in cultivating a friendship with a lady whom she would otherwise consider beneath her." He leaned back against his chair, resting his head against the cushioned back. What was Sophia scheming?
Georgiana shook her head. “I have no reason to doubt her motives. Most likely my experience of this summer has made me suspicious of my closest friends.”
"No, Georgie, I think you are wise to pay heed to your instincts. I have a reason to doubt her. When we went to the theater, I learned that Sophia asked Gordon to befriend Miss Elizabeth. Only, I do not know that she meant for him to fall in love with her."
