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Miss Darcy's Beaux

Page 12

by Eliza Shearer


  The discussion quickly moved on to Mrs Darcy. I had received a letter from Mrs Bingley two days before, where she assured me that Elizabeth had recovered some vitality and was looking forward to the birth of the baby, which now was imminent.

  Mr and Mrs Gardiner exchanged a look of worry. I shared their feelings. As my motherless state reminded me every day, giving birth was a serious business, and even mothers who had an easy labour with a happy outcome the first time were at risk of complications.

  "But we were already informed of those particulars, Miss Darcy," interrupted Mary. "Jane also writes to us, you know. Don't you have a more recent letter?"

  I blushed. I never thought Mary very clever, but her lack of manners was quite shocking. Granted, she spent most of her time alone with her parents these days, and her stay with the Gardiners was but a rare opportunity for her to leave Longbourn. But still, her comment was quite out of place. Mrs Gardiner quickly intervened.

  "It is so comforting to know that Mrs Darcy has the company of her eldest sister. They have always provided each other with the utmost support, even in the most difficult of circumstances. Wouldn't you agree, Mr Gardiner?"

  Mr Gardiner nodded and was going to add something else when he was interrupted by the footman, who discreetly entered the room and whispered something in his ear. Mr Gardiner's eyebrows jumped up, like caterpillars waking up and stretching their fuzzy bodies.

  "What a surprise!" he exclaimed. "It would appear that Mrs Wickham has decided to pay us a visit, dear. She is waiting in the parlour."

  "Lydia?"

  My whole body tensed up, like a hound before the hunt. Across from me, Mrs Gardiner's regular features appeared disjointed for a few seconds, but she quickly recovered her composure. She then addressed the Colonel and me.

  "Colonel Fitzwilliam, Miss Darcy, would you mind if my niece joined us?"

  "Of course not, Mrs Gardiner. It will be a pleasure to see Mrs Wickham."

  I looked at my cousin with some reticence. Ever the gentleman, he was as aware as I was that it would have been unthinkable to refuse, but there was no need to appear quite so willing.

  As for me, I could feel my heart beat through the thin muslin of my dress. My enemy was sneaking into what I believed to be a safe place. I was like a crusader before going into combat, my eyes set on the gilded handle of the drawing room door.

  A few moments later, Mrs Wickham entered with the confident step of a woman who knows herself to be alluring. She was looking rather lovely. Her hair was arranged in the latest fashion, and she was wearing a deep blue gown that I recognised immediately as one of Elizabeth's. As always in her presence, I became the clumsy goose placed next to a slinky cat. She joined the conversation with her usual eagerness to share her thoughts on everything. Clearly delighted to see my cousin, she flirted outrageously with him, asking him about the London entertainments he had enjoyed of late and repeatedly touching his sleeve, just as she had done a few weeks before at Pemberley.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam was clearly enjoying the attention. Mr and Mrs Gardiner seemed somewhat uncomfortable, whereas Kitty was so entranced in observation of her younger sister that one might have said she was taking mental notes of her every move. Meanwhile, Mary had crossed her arms and legs and was looking out of the window.

  Then, out of nowhere, Lydia addressed me.

  "So, Miss Darcy, do you have many beaux, now you have been in town for a while?"

  "I wouldn't say so, Mrs Wickham."

  I tried to retreat, but she wouldn't let me. I was the helpless mouse, she the hungry feline.

  "Come, you must! You are a rich heiress, and you were presented at court over a week ago! If my fortune had been but half of yours, I would have found myself a Duke in that time."

  Kitty stifled a laugh, and Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled against his better judgement. I tried to appear calm but was seething inside. Thankfully, Mrs Gardiner stepped in.

  "It is very wise of Miss Darcy not to state her preferences until it is safe for her to publicly declare her affections. Discretion should be paramount in such matters until there is the backing of a formal engagement. The kind of flattery and empty promises that so many young people enjoy these days are quite a waste of time."

  "But they can be delicious too, Aunt! I must confess to having been subjected to a rather large dose of it of late."

  Mrs Wickham had spoken with a mischievous look on her face. I was shocked. We all knew that Lydia was a flirt, but to articulate those words was unthinkable, even in an intimate gathering such as ours. She was a married woman.

  Kitty fell for her sister's trap.

  "Do you have an admirer, Lydia? Tell us more!"

  "I do, and not just anyone. He is a titled gentleman, and lives in the most beautiful palace, coveted by the Pope himself."

  At those words, my heart pounded faster, my stomach churned.

  "I met him shortly after arriving in London, at a social gathering I was attending with my friend Mrs Slater,” Lydia continued. “I was sitting down, just minding my own business, when he noticed my presence, came towards me and, with no hesitation, asked me to dance."

  "Was Mr Wickham absent at the time?" Mrs Gardiner asked somewhat pointedly.

  Lydia waved her hand as if a fly was bothering her.

  "He was away with his regiment. Some exercise or other. But Wickham is the most understanding of husbands and doesn't expect me to stay at home, awaiting his return, with no friends or amusement. Anyway, this member of the nobility and I have danced together a great deal since. He is a very gifted waltz dancer."

  Her eyes looked at me with intent. I shuddered. It couldn't be.

  "He is very generous and buys me all sorts of jewellery and trinkets, which I always try to refuse to no avail. He is rather in love with me and assures me that he has never in his life admired a woman as much as he admires me. Alas, he says he is also rather desolate at my being married, but I think this only excites him further."

  Mrs Gardiner was looking at her niece with alarm. Mr Gardiner seemed less shocked, but perhaps it was due to his male perspective, or the fact that past events had alerted him of the nature of his sister's youngest daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam's smile was now a grimace, his eyebrows raised, but Kitty couldn't help herself.

  "An aristocrat who gifts you jewels! How exciting! Do tell us, Lydia, is he handsome?"

  "I do declare him to be. He has an exceptionallypleasing countenance and the finest pair of eyes you ever saw in a man, although if you desire an impartial opinion, Miss Darcy here knows him well enough."

  The floor disappeared from under my feet. I took a deep breath, willing to remain calm, but before I could say anything Lydia was speaking again.

  "Come to think of it, you all know him! I believe that he was at Lady Catherine de Bourgh's the other night. Surely you remember Don Cosimo Giovanni Ludovico, Prince of Rasiglia and Ponziano?”

  The surprise turned into horror. Mrs Gardiner gasped. I glanced in the direction of my cousin. His face was drained of colour; his fists turned into balls; his knuckles white. As for me, my cheeks reddened with painful shame. Lydia had exposed me as the worst of fools, for not only had I allowed a gentleman to claim my affections in public, but he had wronged me the whole time by having a favourite in the woman I most despised on earth.

  I thought of the secret conversations Lydia and Don Cosimo must have had about me, their laughs and mockery at my expense. Was their amusement behind his letters? Was she helping him pen them without my knowledge? How could I have been so stupid? I lowered my gaze, unable to meet anyone's eyes, much less my cousin's, but Mrs Wickham had not finished.

  "And guess what, Kitty? Miss Darcy is also well acquainted with your beau," she purred.

  Kitty perked up, ecstatic to share the centre of attention with her sister.

  "Do you mean Lieutenant Murphy? He is dreamy!"

  "Don't be silly, Kitty! It's Captain Price I'm taking about. He admires you greatly. Remember how he was lookin
g at you when we met him for the first time? A little bird has also told me that the other night at Lady Catherine's he was by your side the whole time. He only danced with you, did he not?"

  Kitty hesitated, then nodded, and Lydia gave her a gleaming smile.

  "Be in no doubt, Captain Price's affection for you is growing every day. I would not be surprised if he proposed before the end of the week."

  I looked at Kitty, who seemed to be processing the information that Lydia had just given her. Kitty wasn't as accomplished as Jane and Elizabeth, but she had the pretty face, petite frame and graceful demeanour of the Bennet sisters, and a sweet air of innocence that Lydia lacked. As the second youngest daughter of Mr Bennet, she had little to recommend her in terms of dowry. However, she was connected to one of the most respectable families in the land: mine. She was perfect for a captain with a modest fortune, and, judging from his behaviour the previous night, Captain Price was well aware of it.

  I lowered my head. Not for the first time, my wealth felt like an unshakeable burden that tied me to a gilded cage from which I would never escape. My distress must have been obvious to everyone, because Mr and Mrs Gardiner tried to defuse the tension, her engaging the ladies with light-hearted talk about new fashions and hairstyles, him introducing the subject of fishing to Colonel Fitzwilliam, but I'm ashamed to say that I never managed to compose myself. We left soon afterwards, the Colonel's hand protectively on my arm, not a single word passing his lips. I had never been so ashamed and wished I could scrub myself clean of the looks of pity of everyone in the room, save for Mrs Wickham, whose mocking smile never left her lips.

  When we arrived at Grosvenor Square, my cousin went swiftly to the main drawing room while I excused myself. I needed some privacy to reflect on the events of the morning. I had long suspected Don Cosimo to be a particular favourite of the ladies, but that he should admire Mrs Wickham was a bitter pill to swallow. And so fervently, too! Lydia had a luminous beauty, a grace particularly becoming when dancing, and the large dark eyes of her oldest sister, but she was also inconsiderate, selfish and vain.

  She may be, but so is her lover. And so is her husband, who almost disgraced you. Have you forgotten?

  It was painful to acknowledge, but Don Cosimo had lied to me, just as Wickham had wronged me all those years back. It was a pattern that I was permitting. I had given them the power to make a fool out of me.

  Tears started pouring down my eyes. The world was a blur, but there was only one thing to do. I opened the trunk at the foot of the bed and fumbled around, looking for the ominous letters that had brought me such misery. I found them straight away, tied with a pink ribbon that I had removed from an old bonnet, and caught the sandalwood scent that perfumed their pages. My face burned at the thought of my past blunders, but soon the papers too were burning in the fireplace. It was futile, of course, but the sight of the flames devouring the words that had woven such a web of deception around my affections gave me some consolation.

  My heart was broken once again, trampled on like an old doormat, but it wasn't only because of what I had learnt about Don Cosimo. Lydia's assurances about Captain Price's admiration for Kitty had been just as bad. I closed my eyes and saw the Captain for what I knew him to be: a good man, an excellent man, a man who represented all that was kind and fair in this world. From what I had seen and secretly witnessed at my aunt's, he was also eager to marry, and it was evident that Kitty had taken his fancy. Lydia was probably right. He surely was on the verge of proposing.

  I must have fallen asleep.

  There was a knock on my door. It was Jones, wanting to know if I needed any help preparing for that evening's outing. I had forgotten that we were due to attend a concert with Lady Dalrymple. I asked Jones to tell my aunt that I was feeling unwell, hoping to be left in peace so as to wallow in my misery, but shortly afterwards I heard footsteps go up the stairs and stop in front of my bedchamber door. After some whispering, Jones entered the room followed by Lady Catherine.

  My aunt approached me in silence, observing in my swollen eyelids, tear-stained cheeks and crumpled dress. Taking my face in her hand, she looked into my eyes.

  “Your cousin has explained everything to me. That Wickham woman is as vicious as her sister. I mourn the day that family crossed paths with ours."

  I shrugged. I didn't have the energy to defend Elizabeth. Lady Catherine continued with bitterness in her voice, her fingers squeezing my cheeks.

  "There is also Lady Hamilton, of course. She is spreading all sorts of gossip about that foreigner and you in town. I should have been on my guard. She was always a wicked woman. But no matter."

  My aunt let go of my face and with determination folded her hands on her lap.

  "Georgiana, you have the pride of the Darcys, but the resilience of the Fitzwilliams. You will rise above your shame in triumph. And you must look your best tonight."

  I let out a cry, like an injured animal. I did not want to go anywhere. Ignoring my pleas, Lady Catherine's words became more urgent.

  "We have lost the interest of Sir Leach and Lord Ebrington, who saw you waltz with the prince, but there are thousands of eligible single men in London. Only a handful will have been made aware of your dance the other night, and even less of them will know that you and your family have been fooled. We have to act quickly, before the story spreads."

  Her eyes were glinting. I realised that marrying me to the best possible match was her mission, would perhaps be her last achievement in society, and that nothing would stop her. Not even me.

  "You have to be at the Dalrymple box tonight, loooking your best, for everyone to see. Wear your white damask gown, and my diamonds, and the rubies as well, and the brooch you bought upon arriving in London. I will send Cosette up to help you. Your cousin and I will meet you downstairs in an hour."

  I had no other option but to give in to her wishes, and nodded.

  Chapter 15

  As we were headed for the concert hall, I pulled my shawl around me. It was a mild evening, but the events of the day had chilled my very core. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was sitting right across from me on the barouche, patted my hand, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him. His behaviour was completely altered. He was not only attentive to every single move I made, but he seemed to have also taken Don Cosimo's offence as his own.

  Although we arrived early, the concert hall was already very busy. My cousin discreetly led us up to Lady Dalrymple's box, which was most conveniently situated and afforded a comprehensive view of the stage and the audience. I was terrified of hearing any comments about the waltz I had danced with Don Cosimo from our hosts, but I shouldn't have worried. Miss Carteret only reaction was to look at me with disdain in her eyes and snigger. As for Lady Dalrymple, she seemed utterly unfazed about it, and even mentioned the gentleman in question to say that, although he had been invited to join the Dalrymple box, he had declined on account of a prior engagement. Relief invaded my body; at least I would not see Don Cosimo tonight. As soon as it was polite to do so I sank into my crimson velvet seat, wishing to become invisible.

  The concert began shortly afterwards. The music was heavenly and it enveloped me quickly, dissolving my despair and shame into thin air. The first half flew by, and before I knew it, the interval arrived. Lady Dalrymple found the concert hall too crowded and insisted that we should all stay in the box, but my aunt had other plans.

  "The Earl of Broughton, who is seated in a box to our right, has been trying to catch your eye for the last half hour,” she whispered in my ear. “I believe you made quite an impression on him at Almack's. He looks about to leave his box at this very moment. You must meet him in the corridor or downstairs. The Colonel will escort you. Now, go!"

  I was terrified of running into anyone who might laugh at my naiveté with regards to Don Cosimo, but I was much more afraid of my aunt's anger if I refused to obey her instructions, so I did as she wanted. Soon afterwards, I was on the arm of the Colonel, and he was leading me down
the stairs.

  The interval had brought a large number of the audience to the refreshment rooms. Beneath the large chandeliers and gold leaf arches, the crowd moved and buzzed like insects in an eating frenzy. Colonel Fitzwilliam was my shield against strangers, but even for him, reaching the tables where tea was being served was unfeasible. I quickly realised that I would never in a million years find the earl amongst the crowd, and was about to suggest to my cousin that we go back to the box when we ran into the Wentworths and Captain Price.

  Captain Wentworth was genial as usual. He seemed happy to see us and was too much of a gentleman to even hint at the snub he and his wife had been a subject of at Lady Catherine's. Captain Price was smiling, but not in his usual frank manner.

  "Miss Darcy, you are as bright as the chandelier above us tonight,” he said to me. “Those stones are magnificent."

  "My aunt insisted that I should wear them. They are hers."

  "Surely you will have a closet full of diamonds at Pemberley?"

  I blushed.

  "I don't, Captain. As a matter of fact, I care little for jewellery."

  "So you say, Miss Darcy, but I bet that's not the case."

  His tone was teasing, as if it was all a harmless joke, but I knew better. His blue eyes were clouded. He was testing me. At that moment, Mrs Wentworth joined our conversation.

  "Ah, Mrs Wentworth. Miss Darcy and I were discussing treasured possessions. What are yours, I wonder?"

  "I am not much attached to things, Captain. I much prefer people. But I keep a letter from my husband that is very dear to me."

  She looked up towards Captain Wentworth with deep affection. He seemed to notice her gaze and immediately smiled in her direction. I wondered if I would ever get to experience something akin to the love that Captain Wentworth and his wife felt for each other.

 

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