by Pamela Aidan
“Yes, dearest, truly” — he laughed again — “and she has given her consent.”
“When? When shall we meet?” Georgiana was every bit as excited as he could have wished.
“I hoped” — he looked askance at her — “you might be agreeable to setting out for Lambton immediately.”
“Now?” Georgiana’s countenance fell. “Oh!”
“I know you have just arrived,” he rushed to explain, “but there is so little time to accomplish an introduction with some assurance of…of privacy.” A knowing expression crossed his sister’s face. “I see you understand me. Come, will you oblige me and Miss Elizabeth Bennet? The curricle is on its way.” He could see her hesitation, the return of shyness to her eyes at the prospect of this meeting taking place so precipitously. He took both her hands in his and kissed each one. “Georgiana? You will adore her; I know it! I could wish for you no better friend.”
“Of course, Fitzwilliam.” She freed a hand and placed it upon his heart. “Let me get my bonnet.”
“Send for it,” he whispered. “We must be off without discovery.” Still in possession of one of her hands, he rose and pulled her to her feet, and giggling with pleasure, Georgiana trailed behind him. In haste he led her to the door, and laying hold of the knob, he flung it open, only to be brought up short by a much-startled Charles on the other side.
“Here, what is this?” Bingley jumped back and stared at the two of them framed in the doorway. “Darcy?”
“Bingley!” Darcy paused. What to do? “My sister and I have an urgent appointment to keep in Lambton,” he added as they all turned to observe the curricle being drawn to a halt before the door.
“In Lambton?” Bingley’s brow rose. “We just drove through Lambton.”
“Yes, well.” Darcy cast about him for something to satisfy Bingley’s curiosity.
“We go to meet someone,” Georgiana supplied. “Someone visiting.”
Bingley turned back to Darcy. “Really? Must be someone dashed important to hie Miss Darcy back out upon the road immediately we arrive!”
Darcy held his silence, hoping Bingley would not persist, but he could sense Georgiana’s discomfort under his friend’s interrogation. There looked to be nothing for it but to bring Bingley along. “It is Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he spoke lowly, taking Bingley by the arm and propelling him toward the door. “Shh! Do not repeat it!”
“But, Darcy!” Bingley protested in a sharp whisper as he was pushed outside. “Miss Elizabeth?”
Darcy helped his sister into the conveyance and handed up her bonnet, which had just arrived. “No, only Miss Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle from London. I understand that Miss Bennet is well,” he offered at Bingley’s crestfallen expression, “but that is all I can tell you.”
“I should very much have liked to have seen Miss Elizabeth, regardless,” Bingley said.
“And you will, soon after,” Darcy assured him. “I wished to introduce Georgiana to Miss Elizabeth in a less public situation than would be the case at Pemberley among my guests.” He looked meaningfully at his friend.
“Oh, without Caroline and Louisa about, you mean.” Bingley stood back smiling. “Say no more, old man. I understand completely.” He looked at Georgiana. “I will stay out of sight until your introduction is made. Then, I beg you will ask Miss Elizabeth if I may come up. Darcy?” He turned to him. Darcy nodded his assent. “Right, then! I shall be close behind you.” He beamed at them both. “Capital!”
The five miles to Lambton was accomplished in a silence dictated differently for each of the curricle’s occupants. Georgiana contemplated her hands in her lap and the scenery as, her brother suspected, she prayed and prepared for this unexpected interview, on which she could not help but know he placed great importance. For himself, the rapid progression of events had carried him through the morning, but as he drove toward Lambton and Elizabeth grew ever closer, an uneasiness took up residence in his chest. His earlier question of her pleasure in the introduction returned, accompanied by the disquieting realization that she could not know they were even now coming. He doubted she would thank him for what could only appear as another example of insufferably high-handed behavior. Had he overstepped himself yet again, read too much into her conversation, her eyes? He felt certain that she would be kind to Georgiana. She might even welcome Bingley. But would she turn cool and distant under his regard?
As was usual, the news of the approach of a vehicle from Pemberley was known in Lambton before they arrived. Darcy almost swore that both Matling of the Black’s Head and Garston of the Green Man paid some village urchin to keep watch, for they were out in front of their respective establishments, each determined to tally one more stroke against the other in their personal contest for the notice of the district’s greatest house. Therefore, it was with great triumph on the part of one and high dudgeon on the part of the other when it was realized the curricle was actually stopping in the village and coming to rest before the Green Man. In a rush and tumble, Garston’s innumerable grandchildren formed a guard of honor from the curricle’s steps to the inn’s door, where Garston himself awaited them, nigh bursting with pride for his house.
“I shall knock about in the taproom.” Bingley waved them on as Darcy and Georgiana prepared to follow the innkeeper up the stairs. “But do not, on your life, forget me, Darcy!”
Putting a hand under Georgiana’s elbow, Darcy made to assist her up the inn’s narrow stairs when he sensed her holding back. He stopped and peered down at her. “Georgiana?”
“I’m sorry to be such a goose, Fitzwilliam, but I so want her to like me!” She cast an almost desperate look up at him.
“She will! She will like you; have no fear,” he assured her firmly. “She will like you more than ever she liked me,” he added with a wry smile, “I promise you!” Georgiana shook her head at him, but a smile played upon her lips at his comment, and it was she who took the first step forward. Seconds later, Darcy heard a knock sound on a door above them, and the innkeeper’s announcement of visitors echoed down the short hall to meet them. Although his sister seemed to have accepted his assurances, the apprehension he was feeling increased with each step toward Elizabeth’s door. The door opened.
“Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy,” Garston intoned, stepping back to usher his exalted visitors into the presence of guests who now assumed an unprecedented degree of importance in his estimation. He heard Georgiana’s intake of a quick, deep breath, and then…there was Elizabeth. He swallowed nervously as he stood outside the door, unable to pull his eyes away from her face. Her smile, though tentative, was tempered by the lively interest in her eyes as Mr. Gardiner greeted them.
“Mr. Darcy, you are most welcome, sir.” Elizabeth’s uncle bowed as his wife and niece did their curtsies. The man’s calm demeanor and generous tone brought Darcy to a sense of his limbs. He and Georgiana stepped into the room.
“Mr. Gardiner, Ladies.” Ingrained habits swept him into his own bow. “Please allow me to apologize for our intrusion, sir. We have come unannounced and a day before expected.”
“Tut, tut, sir.” Mr. Gardiner would not have it. “Did we not arrive on your own doorstep unanticipated? Please, allow us to welcome you and your companion.”
Although the circumstances could in nowise have been deemed similar, Darcy inclined his head and, after glancing at Elizabeth, responded with a grateful smile. “You are very kind, sir. Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, please allow me the pleasure of presenting to you my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy.” He stepped a little behind Georgiana as she made her curtsy, the better both to put her forward and to observe what might happen. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner exhibited all that might be expected in the nicety of their response, but it was Elizabeth whose actions were his primary concern. Her aspect seemed a mixture of hesitancy and curiosity as she waited for her relatives to accept the introduction. Then, finally, she stepped forward.
Darcy was conscious of his heart booming in his
chest even as he placed an iron hold on his breath and watched the two he held most dear in the world meet for the first time. Georgiana curtsied, her smile shy but her countenance open to Elizabeth’s scrutiny. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Miss Darcy, I am so pleased to meet you.” Elizabeth returned her courtesy with a warmth in her smile and voice that spoke quiet assurances to Darcy’s heart. Georgiana’s smile deepened; he let go his breath.
“And I you, Miss Bennet. You are so kind to overlook our haste in seeking you out.”
“Please think on it no more, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth averred. “Truly, we are delighted. But you must have only recently arrived.” Georgiana’s eyes strayed to her brother’s at Elizabeth’s comment; then Elizabeth’s did also.
“The journey was not a long one.” Georgiana reclaimed Elizabeth’s attention.
“Oh?” Elizabeth’s eyebrow arched provocatively. “But then I have been told that fifty miles is ‘an easy distance.’ Perhaps you are of your brother’s persuasion in this?” Darcy smiled on hearing her quote his words. Oh, how he had missed her repartee!
“Fifty miles! In my brother’s care it is easy, indeed!” Georgiana replied seriously, “but I would not regard it generally so!”
“Miss Elizabeth teases you a little,” Darcy put in. “She is quoting to you some nonsense I taxed her with several months ago. Yet, Mr. Gardiner, sir.” He looked to Elizabeth’s uncle. “A well-sprung carriage and good road might make fifty miles little more than a trifle, would you agree?”
“A mere nothing, sir,” Mr. Gardiner concurred but cast his niece a droll look, at which all of them laughed.
“Then we are of the same mind in this as well as fishing, in which sport I hope you will indulge tomorrow as there are now several gentlemen at Pemberley who share our passion. A party will surely be made up in the morning.” Darcy’s invitation was readily accepted and with such grace as encouraged him to like the man even more and anticipate some real enjoyment in the proposed expedition. Bingley and Hurst fished, but in Mr. Gardiner he sensed a true angler. The thought of Bingley reminded him then of his promise, and excusing himself, he stepped over to the door and instructed the servant outside to collect the young man in the taproom and bring him up.
Turning back, he was gratified to see Elizabeth and Georgiana in earnest conversation. Elizabeth had taken the lead, but her gracious drawing out of his sister sprang from more than correct manners. He knew her quite well enough to be sure that the lively interest in her countenance and the soft encouragement in her eyes were unfeigned. They had hit upon the subject of music, it seemed, and Georgiana was fairly blossoming under Elizabeth’s regard as each of them expressed admiration for the reputed talents of the other. Then Georgiana laughed, at what he could not hear, but one thing was confirmed to him as he watched them drawing together. He had not appreciated Elizabeth, loved Elizabeth, rightly before. What was arising in his breast now was nothing like those previous petulant desires. Rather, it was a fullness of joy that wished to be of service to her in any capacity she might choose, to provide for her that place where her talents and graces might come to complete fruition. Command me, his heart whispered, try me!
Bingley’s knock at the door recalled him to his manners, and upon his friend’s entrance, he made Bingley’s introduction to the Gardiners as well. There followed an enjoyable half hour for the entire party with such abundance of easy conversation that Darcy was confident that an invitation to dine at Pemberley would be welcomed on the Gardiners’ part. He glanced again to Elizabeth. Although they had spoken little, she had not completely avoided his gaze. He sensed an awkwardness, or was it nervousness, in her demeanor toward him. She made no obvious bid for his attention, centering all her effort on Georgiana; yet her eyes strayed to him with something unreadable in their expression. No, the clues she had scattered this morning were not enough for him to discover her mind on this reacquaintance. If he were to do so before the precious few days she was to stay in Lambton ended, he must make more opportunities.
“Georgiana.” He gently drew his sister away from the others. “Shall we invite them to dine?”
“Oh, yes, Fitzwilliam!” She leaned closer. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is wonderful! I long to hear her play and sing, and…and she is so very kind!”
He smiled down into her joyful face. “Then do the honors, my dear! Invite them!”
“I?” Georgiana shrank a little.
“You are the lady of Pemberley, and they do not appear such frightful people that they would spurn your invitation,” he teased. “For the day after tomorrow.” His hand closed on her shoulder in assurance. “Go!” he whispered.
With a tremulous breath, Georgiana turned. “Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” She waited, trembling a little as they all turned to hear her. “My brother and I would be most honored if you would dine with us at Pemberley. Would the day after next be acceptable?” Darcy looked past her to Elizabeth to gauge her reaction, but as she apprehended the intent of Georgiana’s words, she looked away; even her aunt could not see her expression. Did he then have his answer? He glanced back at Mrs. Gardiner, who oddly enough, was allowing a smile to play upon her face. Did she know something? Did she have Elizabeth’s confidence? He watched as she caught the eye of her husband, and for a moment something passed between them.
“Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy.” Mrs. Gardiner came forward and curtsied. “We would be most happy to accept your invitation to dine at Pemberley.”
At his snap of the reins, the curricle lurched forward. Darcy’s first task was to navigate down the narrow village street toward the bridge over the Ere, but when the horse had established a comfortable gait and the high wheels no longer bumped against cobble or rut, he was able to turn over in his mind the events of the last hour. The journey down the inn’s stairs, he mused, had been taken with much lighter hearts than the journey up had been. He had felt Georgiana’s pleasure and happy ease as he took her arm down the steps and out into the afternoon sun, and if that were not enough, the smile on her face would have told the story. As for his own features, he had found himself hard-pressed to keep an even mien for the smile that still tugged at the corners of his lips. Pointing the horse for the bridge out of Lambton, he was more than pleased to feel his sister tuck a hand snugly inside his arm and the tickle of her sigh against his cheek.
“Oh, Fitzwilliam, I do so like her! Do you think…” She paused. “Do you think she likes me? She was so kind, so amiable; she seemed to know exactly what to say. And she listened to me even though I hardly knew what to say. But, then we talked about music and family and you…a little.” Darcy’s ears pricked up at the last, but he allowed it to pass. “It was easier then.”
“Then you look forward to their coming to dine,” he asked, “and do not regret the invitation?”
“Yes, oh, yes! Mrs. Gardiner is all that is amicable, and Mr. Gardiner seems a jolly, indulgent sort of gentleman whom no one but a complete goose would fear for long!”
Darcy chuckled at the scorn for her earlier fears in her voice. “Yes, only a complete goose, I grant you!” The horse’s gait slowed as it prepared to pull the curricle over the high arch of the bridge. The rush of the merry waters and the clatter of hooves against cobblestone drowned out Georgiana’s response. When they were crossed, he looked over to her. “You realize that Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mrs. Gardiner will likely return the call tomorrow. Will you be easy? Shall I return early from fishing?” He presented his offer with what he hoped was light disinterest, but in truth he struggled with competing desires. On the one hand, he should absent himself from the salon if he truly wished to remove every obstacle to the growth of a friendship between Georgiana and Elizabeth; on the other, he could hardly think how he could know Elizabeth was at Pemberley and stay away from her.
“Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst will be there. Will they not be happy to see Miss Elizabeth as well?”
“I would not depend on the joy of either of those ladies
to carry the morning,” he replied, “but Mrs. Annesley will know how to make your guests feel at ease.”
“Of course, Mrs. Annesley.” Georgiana nodded and then looked askance at him. “Still, it would be good if you came…just to be sure. Near the end of their visit, perhaps?”
He briefly looked down on her and then away. Was this a bit of feminine subterfuge or a resurfacing of her shyness? Whichever, it was an open door that he was glad to step through. Taking both reins in one hand, he reached down to squeeze the gloved fingers curled about his arm. “I shall make an appearance then, near the end.”
Mr. Gardiner’s grasp of the art and nuances of angling was a pleasure to behold, but it was his easy, companionable silence that particularly recommended him to Darcy’s growing circle of those he respected. That Bingley or Hurst would ever achieve the status of true angler was doubtful; Bingley’s laughter and Hurst’s roars gave neither him nor the trout in the river any peace to be about their business. It was not long, therefore, before he and Mr. Gardiner found themselves side by side away from and above the spots along the Ere that the other two gentlemen had staked out. Glancing over at the older man, Darcy was reminded of the last angling trip to Scotland that he and his father had taken the summer before he entered Cambridge. Although he had not then been his sire’s equal in the sport, he had been treated as such, and the quiet companionship and good humor of that expedition were not unlike what he felt at this very moment. If it were not for the distracting awareness that even at this moment Elizabeth was in Pemberley’s salon and a raging curiosity about the events taking place there, he could have put it down as a satisfying expenditure of a morning.
“Mr. Darcy, allow me to thank you again for this invitation,” Mr. Gardiner offered, his voice low. “I hesitate to say how long it has been since I have had this pleasure and did not think that, as escort to two ladies, such an opportunity would come my way. Quite providential!”
“It is my pleasure, sir,” Darcy responded and was gratified to discover that he truly meant it. “I hope that you will not pass Pemberley by on any future holidays in Derbyshire. If I am not in residence, Sherrill, my steward, will be happy to see to you.”
