Her brother had often left her unaccompanied for weeks or months at a time. Of course, they corresponded with each other, yet how can words on paper substitute for the occasional smile, the pat on the hand, or the shared jest, now and then? It cannot.
In her loneliness, Georgiana had wished for a sister. William, more devoted and supportive than most brothers, could not provide a womanly bond. A female sibling would give her the freedom to reveal her impulsive feelings for George Wickham. Perhaps then, she would have averted the entire muddle she made of her life.
Foolish. The precise word to describe her actions, and looking back, she had wished that a sister existed, someone who would have taken her hands, and with the most soothing voice, convinced her not to be so imprudent, or perhaps she would have used good-natured teasing to show her the truth. If she had even spoken with the stern Darcy manner to pronounce a forthright but truthful opinion, a sister may have been able to shock her senses back into coherency. An older, confident girl was the type she had envisioned. Instead, guided only by the deceitful ladies’ companion, Mrs. Younge, a stranger hired by her brother and cousin, she had convinced herself she was in love.
If not for the commanding actions taken by her dear brother, this morning she, as a discarded, poverty-stricken married woman would have eaten a bowl of gruel in silence without a single melody filling her world. She understood it now. All George Wickham wanted was her fortune.
Her brother’s return to London brought it all back again. She had not forgotten his blunt words that unforgettable afternoon. After admitting the plan to him, she had anticipated his grave countenance and expected to hear him speaking in his monotone intonation, yet on that occasion, his calm tone, used when addressing a problem, had deserted him. He had modulated the pitch and beat of his voice, jumping from the crisp and direct sound of his accent to the duller, droning flat timbre resonating in his throat and back again.
Halfway through the discourse, he had mumbled something about turning George into a soprano. Did he think she did not know how that is accomplished? Would he have done that to George? She shuddered at what might have happened if he had arrived the following day, discovering them after they embarked on their planned journey to Gretna Green. In her mind, Mr. George Wickham would have ceased to exist, laid out on a floor somewhere with not a droplet of blood left in his body. Instead, William handled the matter through his usual practice when confronted—by the written word. She had no doubt the scolding was long, direct, and clear in his intent. Most days she wished she had received a letter as an alternative to the verbal education of the adult world he gave her.
She had expected a crescendo to build with his rising declarations; he had astounded her with the opposite. His words, spoken in a harsh, discordant tone and deficient of any harmony, were a dissonance. At the climax of his temper, his nostrils had flared in staccato fashion when his rage possessed his mind. The curve of his ears alternated colors—a red, an unmistakable, bright shade, and a duller pinkish gray. She swore the flashing kept tempo with his thoughts and deepened in hue with the depth of the furrows of his brow. Tiny flashes of fire shot outwards from his eyes causing her to sweat. She recognized that she fabricated the heat from his glare flowing over her cold body, since in truth she did not see a flame. She had witnessed a fugue that afternoon between his eyes, ears, nostrils, and the sound and speed of his words. However, it was not until his dolce-type finale—a melody of expressions so sweet, so soft—that a cloak of shame covered her entire body, crushing her heart and stealing away her breath.
Unable to wipe the haunting composition of her brother’s emotion from her memories, she exhausted hours attempting to duplicate the highs and lows on her pianoforte; still, she could not find the right synchronization of musical tones. She had squandered months fighting the wrong harmony escaping through her fingers and overpowering the piece. Every day she advanced a note closer to perfection. Now that he was home, and after witnessing his positive performance with her at dinner last night, she prayed he brought with him the final chord to make her personal sonata complete.
She headed downstairs to join her brother for breakfast and when she entered the dining room, she hummed a tune known only to her.
***
Darcy sorted through the estate and business correspondence bundled up before him. Occasionally, he stopped to recall the contented feeling overtaking from the morning meal with his sister. She had unmistakably overcome her past, and he rejoiced in her success. He now felt comfortable with his plans for her. Returning his concentration to the many tasks awaiting him, he did not hear the doorknob turn until the butler opened the door, loudly clearing his voice.
“Mr. Darcy, sir. Everyone is assembled.”
He left for the library, and was pleased to see his housekeeper, Mrs. Geoffries, and his secretary, Mr. Rogers, standing comfortably around the fire. Upon seeing the master enter, they nodded slightly; Geoffries promptly moved to stand beside his wife. Even though Darcy noted the quizzical expressions, he pointed to the chairs, smiling at them as they took their seats. They sat down, silently.
“During the months ahead,” Darcy said, “I will be entertaining four gentlemen friends,” He said, and then glanced at Geoffries, “who are to be provided entrance without ceremony, unless, of course, I provide other instructions. They may arrive at my door early morning or late into the evening.”
Next, he turned his gaze on Mrs. Geoffries. “My friends may also stay overnight without notice.” When she nodded, he continued, “Have four rooms made ready immediately and reserved for their exclusive use. Mr. Bingley, one of the gentlemen, shall be given his normal room. Lord Blake, Mr. Rawlings, and Mr. Kent are the others. We will be gathering in the library. I insist you keep the room in an orderly condition; however, neither maid nor footman shall enter unless I grant access. It will be available for cleaning early in the morning or late at night. The door is to remain locked when unoccupied. Post a footman in the hallway.
He took a deep breath, and then turned to Mr. Rogers. “You may be called upon to perform services normally reserved for me. I expect your quick attention to any request.”
His steward nodded and rushed to the writing table to scribble down a few words on paper.
“In addition, there may be times we will need your expertise on a matter. Your total discretion is essential.” Darcy paused to collect his thoughts before pointing to a vacant space along the far wall. “And I need a large, locking cabinet to be placed over there with five keys, and not one more.”
Mr. Roger’s brows lifted higher than was normal. Still, he proceeded to make a note of it.
“I hope you did not lose too much money on the competition. It could not be helped. Please inform the staff, I am most sorry for my disappointing finish!” He chuckled when they lowered their heads in an attempt to conceal the rising blush on their faces.
“We did follow the games in the newspapers, and I can assure you your entire staff had been dismayed when you did not win the stallion.” Geoffries said. “Among the servants in London society, much wagering transpired. And when you did not win, everyone felt disappointment at losing a supplement to their income, but that did not sting as much as losing our rights to brag.” He winked.
After excusing the two Geoffries, Darcy settled into his chair. “What did you discover about Mr. Cuffage? I know I sent you an express to discontinue your investigation; tell me what you had uncovered.”
Mr. Rogers’ cheek twitched several times. “He was partnered with Mr. Edward Gardiner in the import and export trade.”
Darcy nodded for him to continue.
Rogers shrugged. “The partnership has ended. Apparently, there were bad feelings between the two. I hesitate to disparage anyone.” Rogers paused. When Darcy glowered at his hesitation, he added, “My investigation is not yet complete. I...”
“Continue with your findings, Mr. Rogers. This is important.”
“Well, what I have been able to establish is
that Mr. Gardiner took money from the company to invest it in a risky venture. He did so without Mr. Cuffage’s knowledge. When the scheme failed, they had to pay out an enormous sum. I believe thirty thousand was the amount.”
“And?”
“Mr. Darcy, again I caution you since this information has not yet been verified.
“Go on, what else did you found out?”
“Mr. Gardiner was able to acquire the funds from his brother-in-law. I believe he is a country gentleman, from Hertfordshire. You may have met him. His name is Mr. Thomas Bennet.”
Darcy jerked his head. So it was true. Mr. Bennet lost the dowries by his brother-in-law’s dishonorable actions.
“Until I can determine the report’s accuracy, I recommend you do not do business with Mr. Gardiner. Every word could be a total fabrication.”
Darcy nodded. “I have had no plans do so. Just the same, I shall hire a man to investigate him thoroughly. I had heard a similar story from other quarters.”
Mr. Rogers nodded. “Yes, sir. this sad situation is known by others and while not the talk of the town, the rumors have been openly discussed.”
“I want you to continue your efforts at unmasking the truth about this man. If something different turns up, hire an investigator to probe deeper. I expect you to be discreet when making any inquiries on my behalf. I do not desire anyone to learn of my or my four friends’ interests and our involvement.”
“Yes, sir.” The secretary jotted down a few words.
Darcy gave instructions about the legal documents he had brought with him. This afternoon, he and Mr. Kent planned to meet with his London solicitor on several exporting issues and requested Mr. Rogers to attend. Talk then switched to matters associated with Pemberley and Darcy House. The two men worked for almost a full hour before closing the last account journal.
“Mr. Rogers, please ask Mrs. Geoffries to bring Miss Darcy in to see me in my study.”
He did not have time to sip his tea when the two women appeared. Darcy nodded to his housekeeper standing behind his sister. “Mrs. Geoffries, I would like for you to stay as well.”
Georgiana twisted a handkerchief in her hands. “You wished to speak with me? You rarely call for me in the middle of the day.”
Darcy took his sister’s hand in his, patted it several times before leading her to a chair in front of his desk. Mrs. Geoffries sat down next to her. He returned to his seat, and then spoke in a calm voice. “The next few months will be busy ones for me. I need you to act as hostess.” He sighed at her fleeting fearful gaze before she lowered head to stare, blinking wildly, at her bunched up handkerchief in her lap. His housekeeper leaned in to support the young mistress. “Mrs. Geoffries will be available at all times to provide assistance. You need not act alone.”
“What do you expect, Fitzwilliam?” Georgiana said, spoken tentatively. She raised her eyes and locked her gaze upon his.
“To serve as hostess for dinners for my guests and provide entertainment afterwards.”
“Will there be many people?”
“No, my dear. Not at all. Mr. Bingley you know. Occasionally his sisters and brother-in-law will attend. The others include Lord Blake, Mr. Rawlings, and Mr. Kent. They are my particular friends. Oh, yes, of course, our cousin may join us at any time. You are already familiar with Richmond’s habits.”
“How often will you have guests?”
“It may be every day.” Darcy paused when she gasped. “I asked Mrs. Geoffries to assist you. Each morning, I expect you to select the menu; however, I cannot tell you who will dine with us that night.” He watched Georgiana’s eyebrows lift upwards. “Mrs. Geoffries will offer suggestions. You merely need to make the selections, my dear.” He smiled when the housekeeper patted his sister’s hand.
“Entertainment, brother? Do you expect me to play and sing?”
“Yes. Georgiana, these are my friends. After a long day involved in weighty matters, they would enjoy relaxing and listening to soothing music. You need not be too elaborate, and sometimes we may play billiards, in which case, you will then be excused.” Darcy watched as she fidgeted with the folds of her gown.
He inclined his head towards the hallway, dismissing Mrs. Geoffries with just a look. As soon as his housekeeper shut the door, Darcy sat next to his sister, taking her hands into his. “Georgiana, look at me.” He waited until she looked at him. “You will do wonderfully. No one can play better.”
“Singing, Fitzwilliam? Must I sing?”
“If you dread sharing your beautiful voice with others, then no, you do not. One day, you will need to display your accomplishments. Regard this time, while the guest list is limited to my kind friends, as an opportunity for you to practice your duties as hostess. If you do not wish to play, then I will have no choice. I shall pull out my violin, for it is the only other musical entertainment available to us.”
Georgiana’s mouth flew open, and then just as quick, followed with a boisterous laugh. “No, brother, I will play. I would like you to keep your friends. I do not wish to be knocked over as they make a wild dash to the door.”
Darcy chuckled before returning to his sympathetic mien and patting her hand. “You can always come to me if you cannot play one evening.” He lifted her chin and gazed at her with a tenderness only displayed for her. “Please try.”
“I will. Is there anything else, brother?”
“I recommend you speak to Miss Bingley. We all recently stayed at Netherfield Park. She is familiar with all the men’s favorite dishes and drinks, and she can offer you excellent advice.”
“Miss Bingley?” Georgiana held her breath.
Darcy chuckled. “You may ask her brother to obtain that information from his sister, if you so desire.” Georgiana’s image and his friend appeared in his mind. Perhaps Miss Bingley is right. Bingley would make a wonderful brother. Bah.
Georgiana rose to return to her studies. Darcy did not miss her subdued manner as she left the room. He had hoped that the smiling, humming young girl this morning was an indication of a more confident sister. He realized she was not and released a deep sigh. He returned to reviewing his papers, and waited for his partner to arrive.
***
Darcy sent word to his sister, informing her that they would have a guest that evening. Kent had arrived to discuss their goals before they met with the solicitor later that day. He would return for dinner.
With the Darcy determination, Georgiana took charge of her first dinner, expressed her relief that no other gentlemen would be attending. She spent the afternoon and early evening meeting with the cook and housekeeper. She selected the menu, chose the music she would play that night, and dressed in the most grown up gown she owned. Smiling at her available choices, she imagined all the shopping trips she and her cousin, Victoria, would need to obtain the proper gowns and accessories as mistress of the house.
The time had arrived; her brother and friend had returned. All was ready and she was prepared for anything. Or so she thought. Kent walked down the stairs with a slow and steady rhythm. His hand was behind his back, which was upright. He did not have the natural grace of movement as her brother did. Georgiana lowered her gaze and the moment he reached the bottom step, she heard his gasp. She twisted the handkerchief in her hands until there was not a smooth area left. He cleared his throat and when she lifted her eyes, he smiled as affably as possible. Her breathing slowed.
“Georgiana, this is Mr. Kent.” Darcy said when he entered the hallway. After the two exchanged the appropriate civilities, Darcy offered his arm to Georgiana. They led the way to the dining room.
She had dressed the table in its best: Belgium lace tablecloth, cream-colored French Limoges plates, the Darcy monogrammed silverware buffed to a shine, and Waterford glassware shooting colored sparkles from the light of the candles. Jasmine and hellebore flowers mixed with fresh evergreens filled the table’s center.
Darcy leaned in and whispered, “Everything looks wonderful. You have made me exceedin
gly proud.”
A World of Expectations_Book 2_The Confrontation Page 3
