Georgiana Darcy, Matchmaker

by Bronwen Chisholm

  “No. Brother said nothing of society. In truth, I do not believe he enjoys being in town. He would be ever so much happier at Pemberley, if he were not alone.” Turning so I could see Elizabeth’s response, I waited patiently.

  A moment passed before Elizabeth’s shoulders drew back and she sat taller. “Georgiana, I fear you believe there to be some connection between me and your brother. Mr. Darcy has made it abundantly clear that he dislikes my family. I must admit that, since you have arrived, I have seen a different side of him; but I would not have you think more may come of it. We are too different.”

  “And I believe you are very much the same.” I faced her directly. “You are both educated and speak your opinions decidedly; you each have a tendency toward prejudices which cause you to err in judgement;” Elizabeth began to interrupt me, but I continued. “And you are both determined to have a marriage of affection. I believe if you lowered your guard and actually spoke to one another, you would recognize how perfect you would be together.”

  Elizabeth stood, her eyes flashing passionately. “Firstly, I am not prejudiced.”

  “What of your reaction to my brother?”

  “He insulted me!”

  “He apologized.”

  Taking a deep breath and turning her back on me, Elizabeth stood quietly while I waited for a response. I began to feel none was coming, when Elizabeth finally turned back.

  “I suppose you are correct,” she said softly. “If I must be honest with myself, I was quite hurt when Mr. Darcy called me only tolerable. He was the most handsome man I had seen in our small town. I quite fancied him at first. Besides his insult, it was his manner that made me dislike him so. He appeared above everyone, as though we were not good enough.”

  “I have often been called shy because I am uncomfortable around people I do not know.” I stepped forward and took Elizabeth’s hand. “I believe Fitzwilliam feels the same way. When he is uncomfortable, he becomes very distant and stiff. You have been so kind, putting me at ease. Could you not do the same for him?”

  “Georgiana, I …” Elizabeth appeared to be searching for a response.

  “Please, do not say anything now, but would you think on it?” My head tipped to the side much like a puppy I once had as a child. It had been nearly irresistible, and I hoped I had the same effect on Elizabeth.

  Finally, Elizabeth sighed and nodded. I released a quiet squeal as I threw my arms around her.

  “Shall we rejoin the others?” Elizabeth asked though she looked a bit weary.

  “Oh, yes.” I am fairly certain my countenance beamed from the victory I perceived I had won.

  "Very well, since you are so pleased with yourself, you shall accompany me to my father's book room so we can explain the reasons behind my comments to Mr. Wickham."

  Though my smile slightly dimmed, I nodded and slipped my hand about Elizabeth's arm before we left the room.

  Chapter Nine

  The rain beat against the windowpane in a staccato rhythm, gradually drawing me from my slumbers. Stretching my arms above my head, I arched my back and twisted first left, than right, before relaxing back into the pillows. Opening my eyes, I glanced about the unfamiliar room as I slowly remembered where I was.

  Memories of the previous evening rushed back, and I rolled onto my side, trying to see out between the curtains. Mr. Bennet had listened intently as Elizabeth told what she had learned about Mr. Wickham. I was most impressed with the way she had alluded to my improprieties without revealing details or names. Mr. Bennet most likely suspected the naïve heiress was me, but could not say for certain.

  The sound of distant thunder made me shiver and I snuggled deeper into the blankets and sighed. After leaving Mr. Bennet’s book room, we rejoined the others. Miss Lydia had continued in her rude behaviour, leaving me no option but to eventually ignore her completely. The worse had come when we retired for the evening.

  “I fear the rain has begun again and shows no sign of slowing.” Elizabeth shook her head as she drew the curtains in the parlour. “I doubt you shall be able to return to Netherfield in the morning, Georgiana.” Elizabeth chewed her lip as her gaze passed over each of the ladies in the room before returning to her youngest sister. “Lydia, you shall have to loan Georgiana a morning dress.”

  “Me? Why me?” the young girl sputtered.

  “Because you are the tallest of us. Any of my dresses would be positively improper. Our maid, Maggie, might be able to let out the hem on one of yours so that Georgiana’s ankles will not show.” Elizabeth smiled at me.

  Looking about, I realized I stood a full head taller than most of the Bennet ladies. She was correct, Lydia was the closest to me in height, but even she was several inches shorter.

  “No!” Miss Lydia crossed her arms and looked down her nose at her sister. “I have nothing to lend her.”

  “Lydia!” Mrs. Bennet scolded. “You most certainly do. Your pink dress will look lovely on Miss Darcy.”

  As a crimson hue covered Miss Lydia’s countenance, she turned large eyes toward her mother. “No! It is my absolute favourite. I will not allow it to be let out, or for anyone to wear it but me.”

  “Lydia,” Mrs. Bennet’s voice lowered as she glanced about the room and smiled apologetically toward Mrs. Annesley and me. “You shall choose a dress for Miss Darcy to wear tomorrow, or you shall remain in your room for the remainder of the week.”

  In the time we had been at Longbourn, I had come to learn that Mrs. Bennet would give in to most all of Miss Lydia’s whims, unless it risked making her appear to be a poor hostess. Apparently, her reputation as Mistress of Longbourn was the one thing Mrs. Bennet cherished over her youngest daughter’s happiness.

  A cruel smile slipped across Miss Lydia’s lips as she cut her eyes in my direction. “Very well then. I suppose I could find something.”

  “See that it is presentable, Lydia.” Elizabeth frowned at her sister. “In fact, I believe it best if I choose something for Georgiana from your wardrobe.”

  The scowl which overtook Miss Lydia’s features was fearsome indeed, but the other Bennet sisters appeared not to notice; they were obviously accustomed to the youngest’s fits of temper. I sighed, hoping the rains would lessen and I would be able to return to Netherfield by the following evening.

  Now I glanced toward the pale blue dress that lay across a chair at the foot of the bed. Elizabeth had brought it to me the previous evening. I could tell she was exceedingly displeased, but she was reluctant to mention it. The walls at Longbourn were not so thick as to block out Miss Lydia’s cries of misuse as her sister ‘stole’ her belongings.

  Another roll of thunder, this one close enough to rattle the windowpanes, caused me to jump. I wondered what time it was and lay still to listen for movement in the house. It appeared no one was up and about. Propping myself on my elbows, I lifted my head to feel the heat radiating from the fireplace and was grateful that one of the maids had slipped in at some time to build up the fire in an effort to chase away the morning chill.

  Reluctantly, I turned back the counterpane and sat up on the side of the bed. Stretching my legs out in front of me, I wiggled my toes as I had done since I was a small child. I could vaguely remember my nurse, or perhaps it was my mother, tickling my feet during this morning routine. A sigh escaped me as I thought of my family.

  My mother had died when I was but a toddler. My father, who cherished boys over girls, rarely visited the nursery. Only Fitzwilliam made a point of seeing me each day. We had been very close when he was home, and he wrote me often when he was away at school. While at Pemberley, I would sometimes come upon him in the portrait gallery, sitting in a chair he had set before our mother’s painting. Not liking to see him sad, I would climb up in his lap and tell stories until he laughed.

  Another sigh slipped from my lips as I wondered how life would have been had Mother lived longer. Shaking my head decidedly to dispel my melancholy, I slid my feet into the slippers Elizabeth had loaned me and pull
ed Jane’s dressing gown about my shoulders. The chilly air brushed against my bare shins as I crossed to the window and looked out. The rain was coming down even harder now and I leaned my forehead against the cool glass.

  “Well, I am awake, so I should get dressed,” I said aloud before turning back to the little room. Taking up the morning dress, I looked it over. The hem had been let out completely, but I doubted it would touch the tops of my slippers. “There is nothing to be done about it. Luckily, the rain will keep visitors away.”

  Examining the garment closely, I determined I should be able to dress myself. Being in a strange home, and knowing the Bennet sisters shared a lady’s maid, I was reluctant to request any special attention. I laid the dress back upon the chair and took a seat at the dressing table.

  Smiling, I looked over the little odds and ends scattered before me. Jane was all that was lovely and feminine. In front of the mirror sat a few bottles of flowery scents, most likely created in the still room Elizabeth had shown me yesterday. I lifted the stoppers, sniffing each one by one, before replacing them unused. The oils were a bit too sweet for my tastes.

  I removed the tie from my hair and loosened my braid before I began brushing it. A bit of Jane’s favourite scent lingered in the hairbrush and I wrinkled my nose. “Well, there is little can be done now,” I said as I finished my task; putting my hair in a simple twist low on the back of my head.

  Removing the borrowed dressing gown and nightgown, I pulled my petticoat on over my chemise; hoping it would cover what the dress did not. As I was about to slip into the garment, I heard a soft knocking. Returning the dress to the chair, I donned Jane’s dressing gown once more before crossing to the door.

  “Yes?” I called softly.

  “Miss Darcy, it is Kitty. May I come in?”

  I opened the door a crack and saw Miss Kitty looking about anxiously. “May I help you?”

  “Please,” the young girl said anxiously. “May I come in before she knows I am here?”

  Puzzled, I opened the door and allowed her entrance.

  Slipping inside, Miss Kitty quickly closed the door and looked about. “Oh, good, you didn’t put it on.” She crossed to the chair and picked up the blue dress. “I gave Maggie my yellow dress to let the hem out. It was Lydia’s, but she didn’t like the colour so she gave it to me. It should fit you as well as this one would have. She will bring it up as soon as it is ready.”

  Miss Kitty started toward the door, but I stopped her, puzzled by her actions. “Why?”

  Refusing to meet my gaze, Miss Kitty fingered the trimming on the blue gown. “I am uncertain regarding the reason, but Lydia dislikes you.”

  “Yes, I had noticed. I fear Mr. Wickham has told her things regarding my family that may not be entirely true.” I waited to see what else the Bennet sister would say.

  Miss Kitty raised her eyes as she shook her head. “Mr. Wickham didn’t say anything bad about you, just your brother.” She swallowed and looked down again. “I think Lydia believes he likes you, and that is why she is being so cruel.”

  “Well I do not particularly like Mr. Wickham.” I laid a hand upon her arm. “He is not a man to be trusted, Miss Kitty. He has been given many advantages in life, but has squandered them all. He wishes everything to be given to him, but does not feel as though he should pay for anything.”

  “He sounds like Lydia,” Kitty muttered.

  “What did Lydia do to the dress?” I asked, no longer able to wait for an explanation.

  Miss Kitty swallowed hard. “I am uncertain, but I believe she put pins or something in it. She was giggling about how uncomfortable you would be in it before she fell asleep last night. I arose early this morning so I could stop you from wearing it.”

  I was shocked by the extent of Miss Lydia’s cruelty. “Thank you, Miss Kitty.” I watched as she began to move toward the door again, but suddenly felt the urge to know her better. “Would you like to stay for a few minutes?” I asked quickly.

  Miss Kitty looked at me, clearly confused. “But my sister …”

  “Miss Lydia did this, not you. You warned me, and gave me one of your own dresses. I would like to learn more about you.” I smiled, hopeful she would trust me.

  Glancing uncertainly toward the door, Miss Kitty chewed her lip in contemplation. Finally, she nodded and went to sit in the chair where the dress had been earlier. “I cannot stay long. Lydia might wake up.”

  “Are you always with Miss Lydia?” I asked as I took the seat before the dressing table.

  Miss Kitty nodded. “Jane and Lizzy are normally together, when Lizzy is not off walking somewhere. Mary is always reading or playing the pianoforte. Lydia makes me go everywhere with her because Mama does not like her to be alone.”

  “Do you prefer to be with Miss Lydia?” The puzzled expression had returned to Miss Kitty’s countenance, and I suddenly realized no one had ever asked the girl about her preferences before. “If you were able to choose, how would you spend your day?”

  Slowly, with a thoughtful look in her eyes, Miss Kitty began to disclose her interests. “I believe I would spend my mornings sketching. The light is best then.”

  “What do you sketch?” I asked with interest as I leaned forward.

  Miss Kitty shrugged. “Once I drew a bird who came to sit on our window sill every morning. Each day I drew a bit more.” The smile that had begun as she spoke suddenly fell away. “Lydia tore it up. She said it was terrible and didn’t even look like a bird. She made me sketch a new dress for her instead.”

  So, Miss Kitty has talent and Miss Lydia is jealous. Running a finger over the trim of my dressing gown, I spoke softly. “From what I have seen, Miss Lydia would not have asked you to sketch a dress if she did not believe you had talent.”

  Tipping her head to the side with a contemplative gaze, slow understanding overtook Miss Kitty. “She had the pink dress made from the sketch.”

  “The one she declared was her favourite last night?”

  Miss Kitty nodded. “She never said she preferred the design, or even thanked me for drawing it.”

  “Forgive me, but it sounds as though Miss Lydia is extremely selfish. If she were my sister, I believe I would find ways to spend my time in other pursuits.” I watched Miss Kitty closely. “You are sixteen, are you not?”

  “Yes, my birthday was last month.”

  “As was mine!” I exclaimed, pleased that we had something in common. “What day?”

  “The twenty-third.” Miss Kitty leaned forward expectantly.

  “It cannot be,” I leapt from my chair and took hold of her hands. “That is my birthday as well! We must be connected in some manner.”

  “Miss Darcy, it is hard to believe …”

  “Please, we share the same birthday, you must call me Georgiana, or Georgie.”

  “Well, since I am called Kitty, you shall be Georgie!” Kitty giggled as she squeezed my hands.

  A knock on the door startled us both and Kitty’s joyous expression disappeared instantly. I crossed to the door and asked who was there. Smiling reassuringly at my newest friend, I opened the door to reveal Maggie holding the promised dress. Within moments, I was ready for the day and the blue garment whisked away.

  “What shall we do now?” I asked Kitty who looked at me questioningly. “You said you prefer to sketch in the morning as the light is best, but it is raining today. I know Elizabeth prefers to walk in the morning as she has promised to show me her favourite views, but that also is not possible. What do the Bennets do when it rains?”

  “Sit in the parlour and listen to Lydia complain while Mary plays a ponderous piece on the pianoforte.” Kitty frowned. “Jane stitches while Lizzy reads. If Lydia becomes too loud, Lizzy goes to our father’s book room.”

  “At Pemberley I play bright, happy pieces to lift everyone’s spirits. Even Fitzwilliam comes from his study to listen.” I pressed a hand to my lips as a memory came to me and I was suddenly filled with mirth. “Once it had been raining
for several days and a few of the tenants’ homes were damaged. Fitzwilliam had them come to Pemberley until the rain stopped and repairs could be made.

  “Being inside for so long, everyone was becoming irritable and displeased with everything. Fitzwilliam called us together in the ballroom and asked me to play a reel. He escorted Mrs. Reynolds, our housekeeper, to the head of the line and everyone followed. It was such fun!” I looked up to see an incredulous look upon Kitty’s countenance, and paused.

  “Mr. Darcy danced a reel? With servants?” Kitty asked, clearly doubting every word.

  “Well, Mrs. Reynolds is nearly a second mother to us, and there were more tenants than servants in the room; but yes, my brother danced a reel. You have seen him dance while he was in Hertfordshire, have you not?” I began to feel a bit defensive.

  “Yes, but only with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and then he did not appear to enjoy the experience.” Kitty hesitated before she continued. “Mr. Bingley insisted he dance with Lizzy, but Mr. Darcy refused.”

  I shook my head, wondering just how many more things I would learn about my brother’s behaviour. “I have heard what he said about Elizabeth, and he has apologized to her. Has there been any other dancing since then?”

  Kitty stuck out the tip of her tongue as she thought very hard. “Since meeting Mr. Darcy? Oh, Lydia made Mary play a jig for us to dance at Lucas Lodge. I believe Mr. Darcy was talking to Sir William. He did not appear pleased with those of us who were dancing, even though Mr. Bingley was partnering Jane.”

  “Oh dear, it is worse than I thought.” I began nibbling on the nail of my first finger.

  “What is worse?” Kitty asked, laying a reassuring hand on my arm.

  I studied her closely for a moment, trying to determine if I should include her in my plans, before asking, “Can you be trusted with a secret?”

  Slightly taken aback, Kitty nodded slowly. “I believe so. I have kept many of Lydia’s secrets from our family.”

  Curious regarding Lydia’s secrets but knowing it was impolite to ask, I grasped Kitty’s hands instead while looking directly into her eyes. “You must swear to tell no one; especially not your sisters or parents.”