Georgiana Darcy, Matchmaker

by Bronwen Chisholm

  “I … I …” Unable to find the response for which he searched, my brother turned forward in his seat, refusing to look at me. I could tell he was attempting to regain some semblance of equanimity, but was not certain how successful he would be. Finally, he released a huff and turned back toward me.

  “Firstly, I did not say I was leaving Netherfield to avoid …” he too glanced toward the servants and back, “the lady.”

  “Perhaps not, but the reasoning was clear.”

  “Secondly,” he said a bit louder, clearly beginning to lose his temper, “I do not feel this is any concern of yours.”

  “Your choice of wife is not my concern?” I stared at him, aghast.

  “Choice of wife? Whatever are you saying? I have no intentions of proposing to Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he sputtered, clearly having completely forgotten the others’ presence for a moment. Remembering himself, Fitzwilliam turned his full attention upon Mrs. Annesley. “Madam, perhaps you might be able to enlighten me regarding my sister’s unfounded remarks. I was under the impression you were employed to give her a sense of veracity, not add to her fantasies.”

  Before she could respond, I leapt to her defense. “That is unfair, Fitzwilliam, and unkind. Mrs. Annesley has been perfection. It was my decision to come to Netherfield to meet Miss Bennet and her family, based upon the letter you wrote. I have noticed a change in your writing since you came here and I believe she is the reason. Now,” I looked forward and sat perfectly straight, “if we are not allowed to remain at Netherfield, we shall simply take rooms at the Meryton Inn.”

  Fitzwilliam cursed softly under his breath. “You shall do no such thing; however, Georgiana, we are not finished with this discussion.” I looked at him in time to see a smirk cross his lips. “I am certain Miss Bingley will be overjoyed to see you and monopolize your time for the remainder of the day. Shall we meet before dinner in your rooms to relieve any of your concerns regarding my future happiness?”

  “That will be acceptable,” I replied coldly.

  The carriage slowed and stopped. We all sat in an awkward silence, waiting for the door to be opened and the steps lowered. Fitzwilliam left the carriage first. I gathered my things and moved closer to the door, but waited while he appeared to take in the surroundings. Finally, he turned back and offered his hand to assist me from the equipage.

  His silence continued as we walked together into the house; Mrs. Annesley followed closely behind us having been assisted by the footman. Anyone looking upon us would recognize the tensions; any, that is, but our hostess.

  Miss Bingley glided out of the drawing room, exclaiming her joy over us, her guests. “Why Miss Darcy, what a wonderful surprise. I only just received your express alerting me of your impending arrival. Your rooms are not yet ready. Please,” she took Fitzwilliam’s other arm, “join me in the drawing room for a cup of tea while you wait.”

  In the most polite manner possible, Fitzwilliam extricated his arm from her grasp and bowed to us. “Forgive me, Miss Bingley, but I have business to which I must attend.” He turned coldly toward me. “We shall speak before dinner?”

  I nodded. “Of course, Brother.”

  Fitzwilliam replied with a single nod and walked away from the group.

  “Well, that is very unlike him.” Miss Bingley startled, possibly realizing she had spoken the words aloud. She appeared to recover quickly. “I fear your brother has not been himself since our arrival in Hertfordshire. I believe it would be best if we all returned to town, but Charles is insistent that we must remain.”

  She linked arms with me and, without acknowledging Mrs. Annesley, turned toward the drawing room. “I ordered tea a few moments before you arrived so it should be brought in at any time. While we wait you can tell us all we have missed since we came away from London.”

  I took a breath to speak, but apparently she was not quite finished.

  “Louisa and I have been so terribly miserable in this backwater country. The local gentry are simply intolerable. There is no style, no taste, no beauty. Their families are positively wild! How I long to return to town.” Miss Bingley turned toward me and smiled; a false, ingratiating smile which turned my stomach. “I am so pleased you have chosen to join us. Mr. Darcy and Charles have been besieged by ladies hoping to increase their standing in society by vying for our association, as if we would condescend to a connection with them. It is simply disgraceful how they behave. With your presence, we shall be much less likely to attend social gatherings, and perhaps we will be able to persuade Charles to return to more sophisticated society.”

  “I fear I must disappoint you, Miss Bingley.” I held myself stiffly, making no attempt to hide my displeasure. “I purposely left London to meet a few of the individuals my brother has mentioned in his letters. I believe I shall quite enjoy my time in Hertfordshire.” Donning my sweetest smile, all the while knowing it appeared contrived, I continued. “Oh, but you must have forgotten, Pemberley is in the country, and my brother and I quite prefer it to town.”

  Miss Bingley’s false laughter rang in the air. “Of course, I am aware Pemberley is in the country; but that is Derbyshire. The views are so majestic, and Pemberley is without rival. I understand your preference completely.” Her smile slipped slightly, and she turned toward her sister, Mrs. Louisa Hurst. “Louisa and I were just talking of Pemberley and expressing how we long to visit there again. We are quite distracted by the thought of it as we are reasonably certain it is lovely in December.”

  I am well accustomed to individuals attempting to garner invitations to my home from my years of schooling. I also understand the best way to address the attempts is by ignoring them or changing the subject. “Yes, I believe it is my favourite time of year. Though in summer I am certain I would say that was my favourite. I suppose Fitzwilliam and I would simply always prefer to be in the country.” I turned to take Mrs. Annesley’s arm and moved toward a settee just big enough for the two of us.

  Miss Bingley frowned before taking a seat nearby. “Oh, I am certain you exaggerate. Though I suppose it may be because you are not yet out. Once you are able to fully enjoy society, you may never wish to leave London.”

  “I sincerely doubt it. Neither Fitzwilliam nor I are comfortable amongst crowds of people. We prefer smaller settings, intelligent discussions, and quiet, peaceful moments. We find gossip despicable.” Feeling a smile tug at my lips, I turned once more toward my companion. “Though Mrs. Annesley and I have taken advantage of our time in London to visit several exhibits.”

  Miss Bingley opened her mouth as though to respond, but her sister quickly interrupted her. “You must tell us all about them. Hopefully we will be able to attend a few if we return to London in time.”

  “Oh, I am certain several will be in residence into the Season.” I went on to speak of my time in London, focusing mostly upon Mrs. Annesley, but including Mrs. Hurst and, when unable to avoid it, Miss Bingley.

  It is not that I thoroughly dislike Caroline Bingley. Indeed, the woman can be entertaining, if she did not think so highly of herself and were she to relinquish her expectations of marrying my brother. As she has not yet done so, and in fact it appears to fill her every waking hour, it is obvious she sees me as a means to an end and nothing more; something else schooling has taught me to expect.

  Mrs. Louisa Hurst, on the other hand, is married and holds no expectations of my family. Though she is a bit empty-headed and fidgety, always playing with her bracelets, at least she is not apt to praise me repeatedly for little purpose. She is simply content to accompany her brother in visits to Pemberley in order to brag of it to her friends.

  Eventually the tea arrived and discussion returned to the neighbourhood. Miss Bingley was determined to think ill of all she saw, but Mrs. Hurst did allow there were a few intriguing individuals in the surrounding area. She spoke mostly of welcoming hostesses or fine figured men, making me smile as I thought of the lady’s rather expansive husband.

  Finally, the housekeeper
, Mrs. Nicholls, entered and announced our rooms had been prepared and we could refresh ourselves. Mrs. Annesley and I both stood, eager to be away from the sisters.

  “Miss Bingley, if you would excuse us? I believe we would prefer to rest until dinner.”

  “Of course.” Miss Bingley stood and curtseyed properly, irritation written upon her face.

  We followed the housekeeper from the room, but were only a few steps from the door when we heard Miss Bingley express dismay regarding the changes which had overcome me and her assumption the cause must be placed at the feet of my loathsome companion. Mrs. Nicholls was clearly embarrassed by her mistress, and increased the speed of her steps so we would be out of hearing before more could be said.

  I, for one, was not surprised, and instead found Miss Bingley a bit amusing. Her earlier comments regarding socially ambitious ladies had nearly caused me to choke upon my tea as I was certain her words were more descriptive of her own actions than any she had observed in others.

  We reached our rooms and parted ways. I requested the housekeeper notify my brother I was available whenever he was ready to speak with me before entering my dressing room to find Hannah busily unpacking my trunks. After changing, I took a seat by the window and stared out at the beauty of the countryside, impatiently waiting for him to arrive.

  Chapter Three

  “Georgiana, you must realize the danger of your remaining in this neighbourhood.”

  I doubt I had ever seen my brother as frustrated with me as he was now; even this past summer.

  As if reading my mind, he continued, “If Mr. Wickham learns you are here, he might speak of what occurred at Ramsgate.”

  “It was my understanding, Brother, you made it abundantly clear to him that any mention of the incident would be unfavourable to him alone. Why do you believe he would reveal it now?” I sat calmly, my hands folded properly in my lap, and prayed my rigid posture hid my unease.

  “Mr. Wickham is unpredictable at best; I prefer we have no contact with him. I fear the damage he could do.” Fitzwilliam paced the length of the sitting area and returned.

  “Have you learned why he is here?” I asked, looking down at my hands, in an attempt to hide my insecurity.

  “No.” He knelt at my feet and took my hands in his, running his thumbs over the backs of them. “You understand my concern?”

  I drew a long, deep breath and raised my eyes to his. “Perhaps he has joined the army. There appears to be a regiment in the area.”

  “It is the militia. I know not how he could have afforded it and he was not in uniform.” Fitzwilliam shook his head, obviously convinced the man could only mean us harm.

  “I do not wish to leave.” I heard the whine which entered my voice and thrust out my chin in defiance. “Not until I meet the Bennets.”

  Fitzwilliam released an exasperated sigh. “I do not understand your fascination with them. I swear to you there is nothing between Miss Elizabeth Bennet and myself.” Releasing my hands, he pushed up from the floor and turned toward the window, twisting his signet ring, something he always did when unsettled. I knew my brother well. I was close to the mark.

  “I do not believe you.” I knew it was childish, but I continued to pout. He was being so unreasonable and obtuse.

  His jaw dropped open in amazement as he turned about to look at me. “You do not believe me? I am your brother; have I ever deceived you?”

  The heat rose in my cheeks, as I was suddenly ashamed for speaking to him in this manner. He was nearly a father to me and I owed him my respect. “No,” I whispered as I lowered my eyes once more.

  “Georgie, I fear I must be insistent on this matter. I do not want you anywhere near Mr. Wickham.”

  “Will you warn the people of Meryton regarding his ways?” I asked, still unable to meet his gaze.

  Fitzwilliam hesitated causing me to finally lift my eyes to see the reason for his delay; then he shook his head. “I fear it would only draw attention to your situation, my dearest.”

  The small hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I stared at him. “How? If you spoke of his past indebtedness or gambling, especially in Lambton, how could that lead anyone to know of my indiscretion at Ramsgate?”

  “Mr. Wickham may speak of it in retribution for my demeaning his character.” His voice held a hint of defeat that I had not heard before. I was seeing so much more of my brother than I had ever seen in the past.

  I considered his words and found merit in them. “But you will speak of him to the Bennets?”

  His brow drew together and he frowned. “The Bennets? Whatever for?”

  “Why to warn them, of course. Would you allow Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her family to be seduced by his words as I was?” I looked incredulously at him, shocked he would allow Mr. Wickham such liberty. “You must protect them, Brother. You know you must!”

  Fitzwilliam’s frown transitioned into a scowl. “I dislike revealing our personal interests to strangers.”

  “Well if you are unwilling, then I shall do it.” I sat taller, determined not to concede.

  “You shall do no such thing! I forbid it!”

  “Fitzwilliam, I shall not return to London until I have met Miss Elizabeth Bennet, determined your intentions toward her, and made certain Mr. Wickham is unable to harm her or her family.” Thrusting my chin outward in a manner that I knew mimicked his own, I crossed my arms and waited for his response.

  I watched as my brother’s frustration increased. He opened his mouth to speak once or twice, but shook his head repeatedly instead. Finally, he stood directly in front of me and met my gaze with something just short of vexation.

  “Once you meet Miss Elizabeth Bennet you will return to London?”

  Surprised he had relented so quickly, I simply nodded my agreement.

  “Very well.” He glanced at his timepiece before returning it to his pocket. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is a most enthusiastic walker. During her stay at Netherfield I noted she walked every morning. I believe we may encounter her if we were to ride out tomorrow morning. Early.”

  “How early?” I asked reluctantly as a sense of dread filled my stomach.

  A wicked grin crossed his lips. “Miss Elizabeth and I appear well suited in regards to our morning habits; we are both early risers. To speak truth, I believe she has broken her fast before me on several occasions.”

  I could not suppress my moan, but refused to relent. “What time must I be ready to leave?”

  “I shall escort you to breakfast at half past seven.”

  He stood before me in a smug manner and waited for my response, clearly hoping I might decline, but I was resolved not to give him the satisfaction. “Very well. I shall have Hannah press my riding habit.” Rising from my chair, a thought struck me and I paused. “Does Miss Elizabeth not ride?”

  “No, I am uncertain if it is due to a lack of available horses or because she prefers to walk. Her sister rode to Netherfield the day she took ill, but Elizabeth walked the following day.” His eyes had taken on a glazed appearance while he spoke, as though he were remembering something, and I was certain he was unaware of his slip in using her Christian name.

  I turned away quickly in order to hide my smile. I was now completely convinced; my brother was in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Perhaps she would be able to convince him that I should stay.

  ***********

  Suppressing another yawn, I looked out over the fields of Netherfield. Only the prospect of meeting Miss Elizabeth Bennet was sufficient to draw me from my bed on a brisk autumn morning, or any morning for that matter; but I was determined to appear in good spirits. I would not allow my brother to witness my lethargy. “Mr. Bingley has found a lovely bit of land.”

  “It will do nicely, for now.”

  Confused, I glanced back at him. “For now? Do you believe he will not remain here?”

  A blush covered Fitzwilliam’s countenance. “Georgie, Bingley may eventually find the society less than he originally ima
gined.”

  “But I thought you said he was quite taken with Miss Bennet. You made me promise not to disclose our destination this morning for fear Mr. Bingley would wish to accompany us. Why would he change his mind?”

  I could see his unease, but refused to release his gaze. He would answer me or I would simply continue to ask.

  Fitzwilliam sighed as he turned, showing a sudden interest in the fields. “Mr. Bingley may yet be persuaded Miss Bennet is unsuitable.”

  Once more I was filled with surprise and a bit of displeasure toward my brother. “And who might wish to persuade him of such a thing?” Before he could respond, I answered the question hoping I was correct. “Oh, his sisters would not be pleased to have Miss Bennet as a relation, I am certain. I was shocked by the way they spoke of their neighbours last evening. I thought Mr. Bingley would censor them.”

  “Mrs. Hurst is older than he, and I doubt Miss

  Bingley has ever taken anyone’s counsel, including their parents.” Fitzwilliam spurred his horse forward, clearly in an attempt to avoid the subject. I followed.

  “But he is the head of their family.”

  “Quite so, and he must assert his authority at some time.”

  “And would his choice of bride not be a sensible opportunity? You must advise him to do so, Brother.” I was about to push my horse into a canter when I noticed his hesitation. “Fitzwilliam, you do not agree with Mr. Bingley’s sisters, do you?

  He turned away from me and pointed toward a group of trees. “I believe we may have the best opportunity to meet Miss Bennet in that wooded area.”

  “Fitzwilliam?” I coaxed my horse before him and drew to a halt. “Are you ignoring my question?” He turned and reluctantly met my eye. “You are, because you do agree with them.” I felt my jaw drop as my incredulity grew.