The sharp note in his tone rankled. “Really, these small accommodations are nothing. I don’t see—”
“Do you want to marry me, Elizabeth?”
“I—this isn’t the place for that conversation.”
He studied her face a long moment then bowed, hand leaving her elbow. “But we will have the conversation, and soon.”
Darcy left the store, and after taking a moment to compose herself, Elizabeth turned back to the shopkeeper, speaking briskly. “Now, about that blue ribbon.”
She met her sisters down the street. “Lydia, Kitty, I knew you would want to choose your own ribbons. I had the shopkeeper set aside several suitable options within our budget.”
“After tea,” Lydia said.
Elizabeth glanced at Mary. “Mary, can I not persuade you into a less sombre colour for the ball?”
“Why?”
She suppressed a sigh.
“I am not being difficult. I see no reason to adorn myself in like new garments for the delight of people who did not know me and do not care to.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “Silly girl. You should want to look pretty to please yourself.”
“I am pleased with myself.”
Elizabeth gave up. It was the truth, and because it was the truth and so close to her own mind, she would be a hypocrite to press the issue. If Mary was happy with her plain aesthetic, then who was anyone to tell her she should not be? But she watched her sister a moment longer, baffled as always what motivations Mary might have had to try and turn Bingley from Jane.
“Tea would be lovely,” Jane murmured.
“Of course, dear.” Elizabeth linked her arm with Jane’s, offering unobtrusive support. “Shall we fetch your husband?”
He joined them for tea, and after, Elizabeth noticed that wherever they went in town, the service was flawless. Certainly more attentive than she had ever experienced.
“I do not recall ever being so handsomely treated,” Jane said as they left another shop. “Not that our previous visit was unpleasant.”
“My thoughts align with yours,” Elizabeth said.
Lydia exited the shop on their heels. “Everyone knows Prince Darcy has shown you favor, Lizzy, that is all. News spreads just as fast here as it does in Meryton.” She continued walking past them, a jaunty skip in her step. Kitty hurried to catch up.
Mary frowned. “Elizabeth, I don’t know why you insist on playing this game with your betrothed.”
“There is no game. I am giving him ample time to change his mind. He felt obliged to ameliorate the blackening of my reputation due to Wickham’s malice.”
Jane sighed. “Oh, Lizzy. Really?”
Mary stared at her. “You’re mad. Does mother know?”
“There is nothing to know, Mary.” Elizabeth paused, smoothed her hands down her dress. “You know how I feel about a man being forced to marry me.”
“Do not tell me you think that man has been forced to a single action in his entire life. If he looked any more pleased with life, I would vomit. You‘re frightened."
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Mary’s expression shifted from impassive to amused. “You always say you care nothing for the opinions of others, but I know that is a lie. You care so much that you would rather die penniless as a governess than allow anyone to think you traded your infamous position on marrying for love in return for settling on security. But you are also afraid that even though you think highly of your intellect and conduct, you will never measure up as the wife of a prince. You feel inferior. You will lose him if you keep playing these games.” Mary shook her head then walked away, following Lydia and Kitty.
Elizabeth stood there for a moment, stunned and angry. “She makes me sound like a silly child.”
Jane squeezed her hand. “She does not mean to be unkind. You know Mary is unable to temper her truths. She really should wed Collins. Half the things she says he barely notices, if he understands her meanings.”
“Princess Georgiana invited me to tea tomorrow.”
“You accepted, of course. You must go, you are only delaying the inevitable. I know you are worried, Lizzy, but it will all turn out well in the end.”
“Will it really, when in a year he wakes up and realizes he wed a poor nobody?”
Jane just looked at her, saying nothing. But her eyes said everything.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Elizabeth stepped out of the carriage, the footman offering a hand to assist her down as if she were a princess herself and not merely the poor guest of a princess. She looked at him suspiciously. Had Darcy told his household about their engagement? But no, he was not a man to deliberately break his word. His servants were simply well trained.
Jane, unusually fussy that morning, had arrived early to help Elizabeth dress and arrange her hair. Of two minds about the entire process, Elizabeth had drawn the line when Jane withdrew the small box of meager jewels handed down from their mother.
“Absolutely not,” she had said. “It is just tea.”
“With a princess. Your future sister-in-law.”
“Yes, but if I dress lavishly she will think me putting on airs, or worse, toadying. I will go as myself, Elizabeth Bennet from Longbourn. Darcy will have already told her we are a humble family. She is not expecting to see a Caroline Bingley.”
So now here she was, trying not to gape as she surreptitiously surveyed what little of the grounds were visible from this vantage point.
What little. Elizabeth snorted, then controlled herself. Best behaviour, Lizzy. Remain calm and elegant. Warm but slightly aloof.
She coached herself as she was escorted into the castle through gleaming white doors inlaid with silver and into a foyer of glittering black-and-white marble, the flecks that caught the sunlight quartz. Or perhaps even crushed diamonds. Who knew? There was a hum of restrained activity that gave the air a lived-in feel despite the size and grandeur.
The butler led her up a flight of stairs and down richly carpeted halls with priceless artwork and artifacts thoughtfully placed. She should turn around, plead illness and flee. Elizabeth Bennet was no match in sophistication for the woman who had grown up in all of this. Or for the man.
She wouldn’t be able to eat a bite or drink a drop of tea.
The butler bowed as she entered a medium-sized room, floor-to-ceiling windows letting in a shower of brilliant sunlight. The walls were covered in pale yellow paper adding to the sunny warmth.
A slender woman stood looking out of one of the windows, her curled hair a burnished gold with hints of red. She turned, and Elizabeth saw Darcy’s face, albeit slimmer and laid over a female’s more delicate structure. His sister was beautiful.
“Dear sister,” the princess said, coming forward. “Elizabeth. I have so looked forward to meeting you.”
Belatedly, Elizabeth sank into a deep curtsy. “Your Highness.”
“Oh, none of that! You are soon to be my brother’s wife.”
Elizabeth rose from her curtsy to find herself enveloped in a hug and the scent of lavender and lemon.
“I am very happy to meet you,” Elizabeth said. “Darcy has not told me much about his family.”
Georgiana took her hand, leading her to a couch. “He said as much. He wants us to know each other without his opinion getting in the way.” She smiled, teeth even and white. She must use the same tooth pixie as her brother.
The door opened, and Darcy entered. “George. Elizabeth.”
“I knew you would choose the right parental promise,” Georgiana said archly. “Father knew it, too. He told me just to make sure she was intelligent, at least, even if she wound up being poor, because then at least her intellect could be put to use.”
Darcy stared at his sister. “You never told me that.”
“He swore me to secrecy so it would not inadvertently sway you to mother’s side, thinking you had his tacit approval to wed merely for love. I am so pleased to have a sister, and not a horrid one, either.”
“I know my brother.” Georgiana eyed Elizabeth. “We must work on your wardrobe, however.”
“Oh, I’m rather a simple woman. I daresay I shan’t wish to do more than alter a few of my current gowns.” Elizabeth kept her eyes wide and innocent. Princess Georgiana, she felt, was entirely used to getting her way and albeit being a sweet young woman, could be managing. Elizabeth meant to draw a line in the sand now.
Georgiana’s smile immediately hardened, though her eyes remained joyful. “Well. That discussion is for another time. Tomorrow, I think.”
Elizabeth mentally girded her loins for battle.
Georgiana stare intensified as if she was lifting shield and sword.
“This should be interesting,” Darcy murmured. “Can we arrange for the discussion to take place when I am in London, perhaps?”
Georgiana turned back to her brother. “Do not be silly. Now, shoo. Let us women get to know each other.”
He bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him. The princess turned back to Elizabeth.
“Tell me all about yourself, how you and William met, everything.”
They took tea, and in time Elizabeth relaxed somewhat, able to pretend that this pleasant young woman in front of her was no different from one of her sisters’ friends, though quite obviously better schooled, superior in her manners and infinitely more interesting to converse with, lacking the giddiness of the Bennet girls.
It was why when Georgiana asked about Anne, Elizabeth nearly spilt her tea.
“Darcy told you,” Elizabeth said.
Eyes more grey than blue stared at her. “He did.” Georgiana leaned forward, her hands clutched in her lap. “What did she say to you? How did she look?”
There was a pang in Elizabeth’s heart. She recognized the quality in the girl’s voice for what it was—a child missing her parent.
“I would give anything to see my mother or father again,” Elizabeth murmured.
“We have that in common. We have both lost our parents.”
“It is a sad thing to have in common.” She took a deep breath, strangely reluctant to speak about Princess Anne—but why should she not to the spirit’s own daughter?
“She appeared young. Not as young as you or I, but younger than my stepmother.”
“I was only a child when she died.” Georgiana paused. “Did she. . .ask about me?”
Elizabeth winced internally. “No. She seemed wholly intent on being returned to Darcy. If I see her again, shall I. . .”
“Yes. Please. Give her my love and. . .” She looked away, rose and walked towards the window.
There was silence for a long time, and Elizabeth was content to let it be.
“It is a stupid thing, really,” Georgiana said. “The princesses only appear to the wife of the ruling Prince. We aren’t entirely certain who cast the enchantment in that manner. Whoever it was must have been half drunk and mostly asleep.”
Elizabeth smiled at the acerbic note in Georgiana’s tone. “It is vexing. Wait.” She frowned. “If they only appear to the wife of the ruling prince. . .”
Georgiana turned, gaze knowing. “Or the betrothed. They don’t seem to care about the difference. It is often in my family’s history how we have discovered the prince to be interested with a particular young woman. There is no greater giveaway.”
Hadn’t Darcy said in Meryton something about his mother’s appearance being a part of his plans and Elizabeth would either learn the truth of it late or it would not matter? So even then. . .even then, he had known he wanted to marry her.
Elizabeth looked down into her teacup. “I just realised Darcy must have. . .esteemed me far earlier than I realised. Something he once said now makes sense.”
“Tell me something, Elizabeth,” Georgiana said, returning to her seat. “Why are you toying with my brother’s heart when you know he loves you?”
Elizabeth’s head jerked up. She stared at the princess in shock. “What?”
Warmth fled. The young woman sitting in front of her was now every inch an ice princess, mistress in her own domain. A cloud passed over the sun, throwing the room into a subtle grey shadow.
“You refuse to officially announce your engagement. You deny his request that you stay at Pemberley. You pretend in public that he is no more than a casual acquaintance.”
“I—” She stuttered at first, and then anger cleared a small spot in her mind to think. “I am not toying with him.” Her back straightened. “I do not announce the engagement because I wish to learn the land and people more before their behaviour towards me changed. It would be improper for me to stay at Pemberley, especially once our connection is known. And I treat him with the utmost respect and cordiality in public. If he has complained otherwise, we shall have words.”
“I do not accept a single one of your explanations. Come, Miss Elizabeth. We are both women, with women’s hearts.” Her lips curled up in a chilly, disdainful smile. “No woman who loves a man would continue to push him away as you have done.”
Elizabeth surged to her feet, her hands curled tightly. “I have not pushed him away. Our. . .betrothal was sudden and arose out of unfortunate circumstances. Has he told you that? Has he told you he was forced to offer for me to stop the progression of a blood curse from a broken vow?”
Georgiana picked up her tea, took a sip in scornful silence. “He told me everything. Oh, do sit. I refuse to crane my neck looking up at you, and we are not yet at the stage where I must challenge you to a duel. Sit.”
Her knees folded, recognizing authority.
“Allow me to educate you regarding my brother’s will and personality,” Georgiana said after Elizabeth resettled and took another sip of tea. “He does nothing he does not desire to do. Even those actions he considers his duty he does not undertake unless his mind and heart are in accord.”
“How is that even possible? It is impossible to go through life without ever encountering a circumstance in which you must act against your preference.”
“A certain amount of willful delusion is involved,” was the casual reply, “but the result is the same. Consider it the ability to arrange one’s thinking to suit the circumstances. It is a much happier way to live, is it not? What virtue is there in misery if all you must do is accept the inevitable and convince yourself it was your idea all along?”
“That. . .that does not make me feel better.”
“Did you grow up expecting to love your husband when you first wed him?”
“I always vowed I would wed only for mutual respect, affection, and yes, love.”
Georgiana glanced up at the ceiling. “Then you are more optimistic than I, and many would argue I have the greater freedoms due to rank and wealth.”
Was that a subtle way of calling her foolish or naïve? Elizabeth frowned into her teacup.
“My brother always insisted I would wed for love, but I knew I might have to choose a husband based on the needs of the family and principality. I have prepared myself to love my husband as long as he is not evil. Many marriages begin that way, and love comes. So why is it so wrong if Darcy also understands love will grow in his marriage?”
“There is no advantage in marrying me. Your point is valid if I brought wealth, or power, or connections to the match.”
“You bring something just as good. The approval of the ring.” Georgiana selected a biscuit. “The Princes wed for that reason just as often as any other.”
“You said the ring reacts to their mind, not the other way around.”
The princess paused, eyes narrowing. “You are frustrating. You jump on the slightest flaw in an argument and twist it. Fitzwilliam does the exact same thing, may you have joy of each other.”
“Well, that is the consequence of framing one’s argument simply to win the debate.”
Georgiana’s lips pursed. “May you truly have joy of each other.”
Eliz
abeth relented. “Be honest with me. Do you wish your brother to wed an impoverished country gentlewoman?”
“I want my brother to fulfil his vow to our mother and wed the woman he loves. He assures me the woman he loves is intelligent, loyal, responsible, and of exemplary moral character. You are also beautiful and possess a regal manner. You will not embarrass us.” She shrugged. “We have wealth. If this generation’s ruling princess is poor, it will not break the family coffers.”
“I’ve never had to be more than plain Elizabeth Bennet. If I speak my mind or eschew the conventions of my sex, there are no consequences to anyone but myself—mostly.” She inhaled, let the breath escape. “Is a morganatic marriage possible?”
“It is, but why deprive your children of rank and inheritance because of a momentary attack of cowardice?”
She delivered the words so smoothly shorn of emotion that it took Elizabeth a moment to register the impact of being called a coward. Again.
Her teeth grit. First Mary, whose motives were still suspect. And now this woman who had every reason to dissuade Darcy and Elizabeth from marrying but instead argued in the opposite vein.
To continue to protest would be, at this point, utterly ridiculous.
She rose, approaching a tall window and looking out onto the grounds, understanding why Georgiana found it so peaceful. Fields of green and beyond them the roiling forests. Topping it all a clear blue sky.
Was she sabotaging her own happiness? Processing the shock of a happily ever after by running from it because nothing in life had prepared her for an outcome that did not eventually involve penury?
Did she hide behind her lack of wealth because secretly she did feel. . .inferior?
Here in front of her was a man of honour, upright character, and high intellect unflinchingly offering her his hand in marriage; he had not hesitated. Jane had accepted Bingley with no qualms—why should she not accept Darcy?
Elizabeth turned. “Well, I will not say I have had a sudden epiphany, but I am somewhat more settled. Perhaps I shall inform Darcy we may make the announcement.”
“Perhaps?”
Prince Darcy Page 17
