As a young girl, I was in awe of Wickham, just as I was in awe of my brother for entirely different reasons. Where Wickham was stories and laughs, Fitzwilliam was concern and sternness. I loved my brother dearly, he was my picture of a perfect gentleman, but I was in love with Wickham even before I even knew what romance was. What followed, the folly of a fifteen-year-old girl eager to escape the sheltered world she had always lived in with the man she had always adored, came close to disgracing me forever. Thankfully, our idiotic plans had not come to fruition. Only just.
I felt the familiar jolt deep inside of me. It was weaker every time, but it was still there. I sighed again. The future that we might have shared, I could imagine, but I would never experience. And now Wickham was married to Lydia, Elizabeth’s sister. I wondered, not for the first time, at the dissimilar natures of the five Bennet girls. Other than the fact that they were all pretty but for the middle one, Mary, who came across as positively plain next to the others, they all had very contrasting temperaments and sensibilities. How different that was from my brother and myself, so alike in disposition.
"Good morning dear Georgiana, may I join you?"
A friendly masculine voice jolted me back to reality. I looked up, a hand covering my eyes, as the sun was now much brighter that it had been since last autumn. Colonel Fitzwilliam was smiling at me. He was visiting Pemberley as was his habit this time of year, and his presence was welcome by us all. My brother appreciated having male company around, Elizabeth always enjoyed conversing with him, and for me, it was delightful to spend time with my older cousin and guardian, so well-travelled and full of stories. I smiled back and gestured him to sit down next to me on Nanny Fraser's bench.
We talked about the weather and the signs of the approaching spring, but the Colonel seemed melancholy, not quite his usual cheerful self, as if something was preoccupying him. He enquired after Mrs Darcy, who usually joined me in my morning walks, so I explained to him what had happened the previous night. In my retelling of the events I could feel myself speaking and breathing faster, and feeling more and more sombre, as if all of a sudden, the beautiful morning had lost all pleasure. Colonel Fitzwilliam listened attentively, without interrupting me once, until I had finished my explanations.
"I know how fond you are of Mrs Darcy, and indeed I think we all are," the Colonel said, looking grave. "Remaining bed-ridden will be a trial for her. I imagine her mother and sisters will be here soon."
That Mrs Bennet and her daughters may descend upon Pemberley simply hadn't occurred to me. All my fantasies to entertain Elizabeth during her convalescence by reading out loud Shakespeare's plays and Scott's novels were stamped upon by an army of satin-slippered feet. My face must have given away my disappointment because the Colonel immediately gestured towards a particularly beautiful bush nearby that was beginning to flower. He stood up and offered me his arm; he insisted that we should have a look at it, which we did, and we continued to walk towards the house, his company providing me with great solace. It wasn't until we were by the main entrance that he spoke again on the matter.
"Georgiana, your brother and I have been thinking for a while that you should spend some more time in society other than the one Pemberley and its surrounding area can offer, and now may be a good time. If Mrs Darcy's relatives come to visit, she will have many sources of constant comfort and company during her remaining confinement. Your temporary absence will be much more endurable than under normal circumstances, both for her and for Darcy.”
Leave Pemberley precisely at that moment! I was going to voice my objection, but the Colonel gently patted my sleeve.
"Please allow me to finish. A few days ago, our aunt wrote to me from London. She is staying at her Grosvenor Street residence for the season for the first time since Cousin Anne's passing."
Sweet Cousin Anne. She had died of consumption not long after my brother's wedding to Elizabeth. Her health had been waning for many years, but my aunt made it no secret that she held my brother somehow responsible for bringing about her untimely death by loving another. Poor Anne, so quiet and unremarkable. Compared to Elizabeth's wit and beauty, she never had a chance to shine, not unlike myself when the Bennet sisters were around.
I banished my feelings of inadequacy and focused again on what my cousin was saying.
"Lady Catherine requested me to extend you her invitation to stay with her in London for the remainder of the season. She believes that your company would be of the utmost comfort and that procuring pleasures for your enjoyment would improve her spirits."
I was certain that Lady Catherine hadn't expressed herself in precisely those words, but I supposed there was ample truth in them. She was indeed going through a difficult time. Re-entering society after two years locked up at Rosings Park couldn't be easy, even for someone as formidable as her. Still, the prospect of spending a few months with my aunt was slightly terrifying.
"I mentioned Lady Catherine's invitation to your brother, but at the time he appeared certain that you would not be willing to leave Mrs Darcy's side so close to her confinement, and therefore he decided it was best not to notify you," continued the Colonel. "However, if Mrs Darcy's health is taking a turn for the worse, it is reasonable to anticipate that her close family members will wish to be by her side."
The Colonel's implication that I was not one of them was distressing, but he did not seem to notice.
"Georgiana, you know as well as I do that Lady Catherine's relationship with your brother has been somewhat frazzled of late, but she has always esteemed you. Her letter showed her generous and amiable disposition towards you, and an eagerness to provide you with the wider society you require. In my opinion, Lady Catherine's invitation is perfectly timed, and it would be very thoughtful of you to accept her offer and spend time with her in London."
London. I had been at school over there for a short while, but my memories were few and far between. A window overseeing the Thames, a room with high ceilings and little light, a flock of indistinguishable mistresses with very stern faces, all dressed in black.
A red trinket box where I had kept his letters.
I had stayed at the school until Mrs Younge had taken me to Ramsgate. To him. I forcefully pushed Wickham out of my thoughts.
Colonel Fitzwilliam now spoke with the eagerness of those who make plans to improve the life of others.
"Lady Catherine is very well connected, and I have no doubt that she will introduce you to the most elegant and exclusive society. She is also very keen to present you at court, now that she is no longer in deep mourning and it is proper for her to do so."
A court presentation! The elaborate costumes, the nobility, the curtseying to the Queen. My insides shook at the prospect. I found it difficult enough to speak at a dinner party with neighbours in Pemberley. How would I manage to go through the whole ceremony in front of hundreds of people? Of course, I had always known it would happen one day, and in the family it was tacitly understood that, given the tragic death of my mother, my aunt would do the honours. After all, as the daughter of an earl, she had been presented herself, and even spent time at court in her youth. However, since my brother's wedding and Cousin Anne's death, no more had been said on the matter, and I'd harboured the secret fantasy that my dreaded presentation would never actually take place.
"Your brother, always so considerate, feared that the event might bring painful memories of Cousin Anne's coming out to our aunt. Because of this, he insisted on postponing your presentation, and even discussed with me the possibility of looking for a different sponsor."
The Colonel's apologetic tone didn’t fool me. I was well aware that Fitzwilliam was anxious about letting me out of his sight. At the same time, I did not mind his watchfulness. I rather enjoyed being cocooned in the safety of Pemberley, and its limited social obligations suited my timid nature.
"However, Lady Catherine is adamant that she will do it herself. She wants your first season to be splendid," continued the Colonel.
>
I shuddered. There was only one way to determine the social success of a young woman of good breeding in her first full season in town, and that was an engagement to a man with a title or a vast fortune, and preferably both. Cousin Anne was a sad reminder that some ladies, in spite of their wealth, did not attract a husband, presentation at court or not. What if I shared more than Anne's unremarkable looks? What if I, too, was destined never to be loved again and die a spinster, a string of fruitless seasons behind me?
"I think you may find that you enjoy the process more than you think," the Colonel added with a smile. "I am told that the shopping excursions to procure all necessary accoutrements for the court ceremony are very pleasurable for the ladies involved. And Lady Catherine has you in very high regard. She often says that you are so similar to Cousin Anne you might have been sisters, certainly the highest of compliments I ever heard her bestow. I have no doubt that our aunt will ensure you have as much amusement and gayness from your stay in town as possible."
Which wasn't much, I thought glumly. Lady Catherine's idea of diversion was to play cards whilst criticising everyone's dress, countenance, habits, skills, house, pets, servants, carriage and general outlook on life.
"Cousin, please tell me. Does my brother not wish me to go to London?" I managed to ask with some effort on my part.
"Not at all, dear Georgiana. Darcy has always known this day would arrive. I keep reminding him that you are no longer a child, but you know what he is like. He does not want any harm to come to you."
Once more, the words were unsaid, but they hurt just the same. I wanted to scream. Instead, I silently dug my nails into the palms of my hands.
"I believe your brother has also had other preoccupations of late. He has been very busy with some matters regarding the estate boundaries. Some neighbouring owner is contesting his right to a particular piece of land or other, but there is no need for you to worry about such matters."
The Colonel took my gloved hand and pressed it.
"Darcy loves you very much, Georgiana, and so do I. We want your happiness. Your brother would like to keep you as a beautiful vase, on a shelf up high, to be seen and never touched, but it is time you went out to see the world. I intend to recommend to him that you accept Lady Catherine's invitation; however, I will not do so without your consent."
His gaze was confident, and it was clear that he did not doubt that I would comply. In truth, I had very little choice. All I could do is nod as he held my arm to help me up the stairs.
Chapter 3
The following morning I breakfasted alone. I was informed that my brother had had to leave early after receiving an urgent notice from Mr Harvey, the estate keeper, and that Elizabeth was convalescing in her room. I was eager to see her, but it was still early. Looking out of the window I saw that the sun was out and the ground was dry, so I fetched my warmest shawl and stepped outside.
It was a bright, mild day in late February. The grounds at Pemberley had not looked as inviting in months. The winter frost was giving way to patches of green, and tiny buds were visible everywhere. I first thought of heading west towards the formal garden, but the pull of the morning sun was strong, and I headed eastwards, towards the majestic willows that grew by the stream, imposing in the barren landscape. Here and there, I could see timid dashes of colour. Where there had been snowdrops, there were primroses, their beautiful blooms opening as if they were as starved of sunlight as I was after a long winter confined in the house. The nests that had shown such industriousness in the summer and spring had been empty for months, but would soon have new occupiers.
The sun was getting stronger by the minute, and I realised I didn't have a parasol with me. I hadn't thought I would need one this early in the day. Mrs Younge's words resonated unwelcome in my thoughts. ‘Your porcelain skin is your best asset, Miss Darcy, and you should make sure it remains so,’ she used to say. She was extremely vigilant when it came to my complexion; unfortunately, she was much less concerned about my virtue. I blushed in spite of myself. The disgraceful event was safely in my past, at least.
My walk had led me to the pond where, as a little girl, Wickham had taken me on tadpole hunts. I remembered the long summers together, his playfulness, his attentiveness, the way he had of combing his hair back with his fingers. Wickham was fond of telling me stories. According to him, the tadpoles were an army of disguised soldiers, ready to defend Pemberley from a terrible dragon that hid behind the hills. He used to say that the minute the beast attacked us, Mr Tiddles the cat would become a white horse, and his trusty pocket knife would turn into a majestic sword, ready for action. As he said this, his arm would be up in the air, waving an invisible weapon, and his eyes would sparkle, eager for the fight.
I sighed. The stories came when my brother was in the study, learning the ropes of estate management. From an early age, my father had been eager to educate his son and heir in the affairs that in due course would become his responsibility, and my brother had applied himself to the task, his conscientiousness and sense of duty as much a part of him as his dark hair. But away from the house, things were different for Wickham and me. In those long afternoons, if the weather was good, we were allowed to play outside under the supervision of Nanny Fraser, the Pemberley nursemaid. Wickham would walk by her side, his charm oozing from his every pore. We'd reach the pond, the poor woman quite out of breath as she was getting into old age; after all, Nanny Fraser had cared for Mama and her brother and sister when they were little. Wickham, ever the gentleman, would then guide her towards a lonely bench in the perfect shady spot, overlooking the house, and say ‘Nanny Fraser, won't you sit down? We've had a fair bit of exercise. I'll play with Georgiana right there. I'll look after her, don't you worry.’ The old nursemaid would grumble a bit, saying that she just needed to get her breath back, and take a seat, insisting that she would be with us in a few minutes, but invariably she would be snoring after a short while.
As soon as Nanny Fraser was asleep, Wickham would take my hand and drag me to the pond. He taught me to put my hands in the water slowly, fingers gently touching, so as not to scare the tadpoles, then bring the edges of the palms swiftly together around an unsuspecting victim. Then came the hard bit, lifting the cage with the tadpole inside and enough water to keep it from wriggling out. Wickham often had to help me, and he would do so by covering my pudgy child hands with his.
As a young girl, I was in awe of Wickham, just as I was in awe of my brother for entirely different reasons. Where Wickham was stories and laughs, Fitzwilliam was concern and sternness. I loved my brother dearly, he was my picture of a perfect gentleman, but I was in love with Wickham even before I even knew what romance was. What followed, the folly of a fifteen-year-old girl eager to escape the sheltered world she had always lived in with the man she had always adored, came close to disgracing me forever. Thankfully, our idiotic plans had not come to fruition. Only just.
I felt the familiar jolt deep inside of me. It was weaker every time, but it was still there. I sighed again. The future that we might have shared, I could imagine, but I would never experience. And now Wickham was married to Lydia, Elizabeth’s sister. I wondered, not for the first time, at the dissimilar natures of the five Bennet girls. Other than the fact that they were all pretty but for the middle one, Mary, who came across as positively plain next to the others, they all had very contrasting temperaments and sensibilities. How different that was from my brother and myself, so alike in disposition.
"Good morning dear Georgiana, may I join you?"
A friendly masculine voice jolted me back to reality. I looked up, a hand covering my eyes, as the sun was now much brighter that it had been since last autumn. Colonel Fitzwilliam was smiling at me. He was visiting Pemberley as was his habit this time of year, and his presence was welcome by us all. My brother appreciated having male company around, Elizabeth always enjoyed conversing with him, and for me, it was delightful to spend time with my older cousin and guardian, so well-travel
led and full of stories. I smiled back and gestured him to sit down next to me on Nanny Fraser's bench.
We talked about the weather and the signs of the approaching spring, but the Colonel seemed melancholy, not quite his usual cheerful self, as if something was preoccupying him. He enquired after Mrs Darcy, who usually joined me in my morning walks, so I explained to him what had happened the previous night. In my retelling of the events I could feel myself speaking and breathing faster, and feeling more and more sombre, as if all of a sudden, the beautiful morning had lost all pleasure. Colonel Fitzwilliam listened attentively, without interrupting me once, until I had finished my explanations.
"I know how fond you are of Mrs Darcy, and indeed I think we all are," the Colonel said, looking grave. "Remaining bed-ridden will be a trial for her. I imagine her mother and sisters will be here soon."
That Mrs Bennet and her daughters may descend upon Pemberley simply hadn't occurred to me. All my fantasies to entertain Elizabeth during her convalescence by reading out loud Shakespeare's plays and Scott's novels were stamped upon by an army of satin-slippered feet. My face must have given away my disappointment because the Colonel immediately gestured towards a particularly beautiful bush nearby that was beginning to flower. He stood up and offered me his arm; he insisted that we should have a look at it, which we did, and we continued to walk towards the house, his company providing me with great solace. It wasn't until we were by the main entrance that he spoke again on the matter.
"Georgiana, your brother and I have been thinking for a while that you should spend some more time in society other than the one Pemberley and its surrounding area can offer, and now may be a good time. If Mrs Darcy's relatives come to visit, she will have many sources of constant comfort and company during her remaining confinement. Your temporary absence will be much more endurable than under normal circumstances, both for her and for Darcy.”
Miss Darcy's Beaux Page 2
