Georgiana Darcy, Matchmaker

by Bronwen Chisholm

  Kitty nodded solemnly, her eyes opened wide in curiosity.

  “I believe Fitzwilliam likes Elizabeth,” I said in a rush before holding my breath in anticipation of Kitty’s response.

  Slowly a smile spread across her lips and a moment later she was laughing. “Lizzy? But he thinks she is only tolerable. He said it himself.”

  “I told you, he apologized.” I released Kitty’s hands, throwing them away from myself, and began to pace. “You have not seen them when they are together. He never stops looking at her; as though he is memorizing everything about her.”

  “But I have seen him,” Kitty insisted. “The night at Lucas Lodge he followed her everywhere. Most of the time he looked quite displeased. Everyone in Meryton believes he looks at her to find fault.”

  Nibbling on my nail once more, I shook my head. “I was correct; it is worse.”

  Kitty leaned closer. “Georgie, you truly believe he likes her?”

  “He is positively smitten. I have never been more certain.”

  “Oh dear, but Lizzy has declared she shall never dance with him. I believe she quite dislikes him.”

  I stopped pacing and sat on the edge of the bed. “When I first met Elizabeth, I would have agreed with you; but I have seen them together since then and she also could not stop looking at Fitzwilliam. I believe they feel something for each other, but neither is taking action.”

  Kitty joined me on the bed, her brow creased in thought. “I wonder …”

  “What?”

  “Well, there is a ball in a few days, maybe we can arrange for them to dance. Mr. Darcy appeared to be a good dancer, even if he was not enjoying himself.” Kitty sat quietly, muttering under her breath. “Lizzy normally will not allow people to appear exceedingly serious. She would definitely make him speak while they danced. If she knew what topics would interest him …”

  “I could tell her things he likes,” I offered quickly. “I have seen her gown, and Fitzwilliam has a waistcoat which would complement it perfectly. I shall tell his man to prepare it. I do hope it is not in town. If so, he will have to send for it.”

  “Georgie, you have to be at Netherfield to do so,” Kitty reminded me.

  “Oh, this wretched rain!” Another thought crossed my mind and I fell back upon the bed. “The bridge! What if it does not stop raining in time and they are unable to fix the bridge? Is there any other way to Netherfield?”

  Kitty shook her head sadly.

  “Oh, Kitty, however are we going to bring them together?”

  The sound of doors opening and closing as individuals greeted each other and went below to break their fasts interrupted my thoughts.

  Kitty stood and held out her hand. “I suppose we shall have to watch for any opportunity.”

  Nodding, I accepted her hand and we crossed to the door. I was about to open it when a thought occurred to me and I stopped and turned back. “What about Miss Lydia?”

  Though her complexion blanched, Kitty held her head high. “I believe Maggie will have told Hill what Lydia did. If Mama hears of it, Lydia may be sent to her room as was threatened.”

  “Do you believe that will happen?” I asked doubtfully.

  “No, but I will not spend the day listening to her when I can be speaking with you.” She smiled timidly. “I am glad I told you about the dress.”

  “So am I.” I could feel the grin spreading across my countenance and I reached out to embrace Kitty. “I have never had a friend who shared my birthday before. We are as good as sisters!”

  Kitty giggled. “Yes, as good as sisters!”

  Chapter Ten

  Miss Lydia’s eyes widened as Kitty and I entered the dining room arm in arm. She glanced down at the yellow morning dress and frowned before turning to glare at her sister. Kitty was so busy whispering to me, she did not even notice.

  We took seats next to one another near Mr. Bennet’s end of the table, with one chair separating me from the youngest Bennet, and waited for the remainder of the family to join us. We did not wait long before Jane and Elizabeth entered together, looking about anxiously, probably for me. Relief flooded Jane’s smile when she saw me already in attendance, but Elizabeth peered at me curiously.

  “I forgot Kitty had Lydia’s yellow dress. It suits you very well, Georgiana; but was there some problem with the blue?” She looked suspiciously toward her youngest sister who fiddled with the serviette and refused to meet her gaze.

  “Kitty brought it to me this morning and we agreed it might be a more comfortable fit.” I smiled at Kitty as I squeezed her hand under the table.

  “I see.” Elizabeth glanced between the three of us. It was clear she suspected more, but she soon took her seat as though she would not pursue it further at this time.

  Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Annesley entered next, with Miss Mary close behind them on Mr. Collins’ arm. After seating her between Mrs. Annesley and Jane, his countenance revealed his realization that the only remaining seat was between Miss Lydia and myself. Drawing himself to his full height, which was surprisingly closer to Fitzwilliam’s than I had originally believed, he rounded the table and stepped in front of the available seat; but he remained standing.

  A moment later, Mr. Bennet entered the room and moved to his place, just as Mr. Collins cleared his throat. “Shall we bow our heads in thanksgiving to the bounties supplied by our wondrous Lord?” He folded his hands before his thick middle as Miss Lydia’s sigh reverberated about the room.

  I could not resist the urge to peek at my friends who sat across from me and felt the need to bite down on the inside of my cheek to suppress my grin. It appeared Mr. Collins was determined not to be overlooked, and we all knew we would not be enjoying a hot breakfast this morning.

  I felt my eyes begin to glaze over as the man recited the numerous blessings bestowed upon himself, repeatedly thanking his creator for the wisdom and guidance of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. It took most of my inner strength to maintain my silence as the man beside me made every argument for my insensitive, demanding aunt’s sainthood. No wonder Fitzwilliam was so ill at ease in his presence.

  Finally, as Kitty began to lean heavily against my arm, Mr. Collins closed his prayer and took his seat. Glancing about, I noticed everyone blinking rapidly as though waking from a dream or realizing the droning sound of the man’s voice had ended, effectively breaking a spell under which they had fallen. As I nudged Kitty back into her own seat, I saw the corner of Mr. Bennet’s mouth turn up and thought I heard him whisper, “Well played, Cousin.”

  As expected, the food had cooled, but Mrs. Hill made certain the tea and coffee were hot. We ate little and soon adjourned to the front parlour, while Mr. Bennet disappeared into his book room before Mr. Collins could address him. Kitty and I took the window seat and stared out at the gloomy day.

  “The rain appears to be slowing; perhaps it will stop so repairs can be made to the bridge.” Kitty smiled hopefully in my direction before taking up her sketchpad.

  The light was not the best, but I sat in the brightest spot, looking out at the rain dripping from the bare branches of the massive elm. Kitty moved to a chair close by and tapped her pencil against her lips as she studied me, before finally beginning to draw.

  Approximately half an hour later, I stared at the reflection in the glass and saw Elizabeth stepping silently up behind Kitty and viewing the drawing over her sister’s shoulder. “Why, Kitty, that is very good.”

  Startled, the younger sister clutched the sketchbook to her chest and looked up at Elizabeth. Reluctantly, she lowered it again. “Do you really think so?”

  “Oh, yes. You have perfectly captured the curve of Georgiana’s nose and chin. I am anxious to see it completed.”

  I smiled, happy to see my friend receiving Elizabeth’s praise. Returning to my position so Kitty could continue, I stared absent-mindedly out the window. Kitty had been correct; the rain had slowed, and even appeared to be stopping. My eyes focused on a distant movement as I wondered whether I wou
ld be able to return to Netherfield today.

  “Oh!” I cried a moment later and leaned closer to the window, trying to get a better view of what appeared to be approaching. “I believe someone is coming.”

  “Where?” Kitty asked, dropping her sketchbook and joining me in the window seat. “It appears to be someone on horseback.”

  “Who?” Miss Lydia rushed forward, pushing her way between us, and looked out. “Is it one of the officers?”

  “I did not see red,” Kitty replied, trying to see around her sister.

  “Bah,” Miss Lydia cried as she turned away. “It is only Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy.” Flouncing down into the seat Kitty had just vacated, she picked up the sketchbook. “What is this scribble?”

  Kitty snatched the book from her sister’s hands as I stood to get a better look out the window. I had only seen one rider and had not suspected it to be my brother. Now, as they drew closer, I realized it was indeed as Miss Lydia had said. I looked excitedly toward Kitty who grinned in response.

  “Mama,” Kitty called as she carried her book away from Miss Lydia. “There are gentlemen approaching.”

  “Gentlemen? Good gracious!” She looked about the room and quickly determined all was satisfactory. “Mary, see to tea.”

  I watched Fitzwilliam and his friend dismount and stride toward the front door. It appeared he carried a portmanteau and I hoped it contained some of my belongings. I did not wish to borrow any more from the Bennet sisters, particularly not Miss Lydia.

  The gentlemen were announced and I stood patiently by as my brother addressed the Mistress of Longbourn.

  “Forgive our intrusion, Mrs. Bennet. I fear with the continued rains my sister must trespass upon you another day and I believed she would prefer to have a few of her things.” Fitzwilliam turned toward me with a searching gaze. “Mrs. Hill has taken your bag to your room, Georgiana.”

  “Thank you, Fitzwilliam.” I stepped forward and smiled reassuringly before embracing him. For the first time since Ramsgate, his concern for my well-being did not upset me.

  “You are all consideration, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Bennet crooned before turning her attention toward his friend. “Mr. Bingley, I hope the continued rains will not cause the ball to be delayed.”

  “Certainly not!” the man cried. “Darcy and I saw the men at work on the bridge before leaving Netherfield. I pray the rains hold off for a few hours so the work might be completed. Miss Darcy and her companion may be able to return this evening.”

  “Oh, but we quite enjoy having her here. Miss Darcy is such a joy, Mr. Darcy. You must be exceedingly proud of her.” Mrs. Bennet waited for his answer, a frown slowly overtaking her features as none was forthcoming.

  Puzzled, I turned my attention to my brother and found him quite distracted. Following his gaze, I realized he was watching Mr. Collins.

  The man had taken up position by Elizabeth, who appeared quite discomforted. In the arrival of the gentlemen, Miss Mary had gone to the kitchens per her mother’s orders. Mr. Collins had seized the distraction to claim the place on the small sofa beside

  Elizabeth and was speaking quite intently.

  As a silence fell over the room, Elizabeth’s soft response was clearly heard. “But I have agreed to dance the first with you, sir.” She looked up, realization that they were now the centre of attention crossed her countenance and her eyes begged for assistance.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Bingley stepped toward her. “I had hoped during our visit to secure a dance with each of the Bennet ladies.”

  A grateful smile crossed her lips. “Of course, Mr. Bingley. I am engaged for the first set, but the second is available.”

  “Excellent!” He turned toward Jane and intently held her gaze. “Miss Bennet, might I hope to dance the first with you?”

  Jane’s colour rose as she demurely granted his request. I held back my amusement as Mrs. Bennet nearly bounced in her seat with joy. I looked toward my brother to judge his reaction, but his eyes still lingered upon Elizabeth.

  “Miss Elizabeth, I too wish to secure a dance. I fear I am engaged to dance with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst during the third and fourth dances, but am hoping you are available for the dinner set. You would then be guaranteed to sit by Georgiana during the meal.”

  His voice was even, but I noticed his fingers twitching by his side. He had not done this in years. It was a trick he used when speaking to dispel his unease. He had only disclosed it to me after he had done it while holding my hand during his address to the Pemberley servants following our father’s death. The distraction of his twitching fingers allowed him to conceal his anxiety, but went mostly unnoticed by those about him.

  “I would quite enjoy Georgiana’s company at dinner, sir.” Elizabeth’s relief in his offer was palpable, so much so that I began to wonder if Mr. Collins had been pressing for that very dance, and more, whether my brother was aware of it.

  Glancing once more at Fitzwilliam before returning my attention to Elizabeth, I suspected a silent conversation to be playing out between them. I quietly excused myself and returned to Kitty in the window seat, where I waited expectantly for what might transpire next.

  “Do you think they will speak aloud?” Kitty whispered.

  I glanced at my friend, whose eyes remained glued to her sister and the silent suitor. “I am uncertain. Has anyone else noticed?”

  Kitty shifted as she glanced about. “Mama is too busy with Jane and Mr. Bingley; and Lydia is pouting in the corner. Mrs. Annesley is watching us, so she may know what we are discussing. Mr. Collins appears confused. Do you think he might move so your brother can sit there?”

  “I believe he is torn between fighting for Elizabeth and praising my brother for his connection to Lady Catherine.” I felt the giggle over the man’s ridiculousness rise in my throat and was unable to stifle it.

  “That is quite a predicament,” Kitty agreed, joining me in my merriment.

  Mrs. Annesley’s eyes narrowed and we quieted, hoping no one else had noticed us. Nonchalantly, I turned to take in the others in the room and found Miss Lydia watching me closely, a frown set upon her countenance. I smiled in response, but felt a chill run through me as Miss Lydia turned her attention toward Fitzwilliam.

  He had taken a seat in the chair closest to the sofa and was carrying on a quiet conversation with Elizabeth, completely excluding Mr. Collins. Their heads were bent toward one another in an intimate manner.

  I looked back to Miss Lydia and found the young girl now had a rather disturbing smile playing about her lips. Surely Miss Lydia would not do anything to separate Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth. What interest could she have in them?

  All conversations and contemplations ceased as Miss Mary returned with a maid carrying the tea service. Mrs. Bennet called for Kitty to help her sister, and they began to pour out the tea and hand it about.

  I debated moving closer, but decided my current seat allowed full view of the room and its occupants. I was grateful for my choice a moment later as Miss Lydia began slowly drawing closer to my brother. Unfortunately, I realized her intentions too late to be of any assistance.

  Reaching Fitzwilliam’s seat, Miss Lydia met and held my gaze as she leaned forward and spilled her drink upon his hand. The heat of the fresh tea caused him to startle, upsetting his own cup upon Elizabeth. In an instant, the entire room was in an uproar.

  “Oh, how clumsy of me.” Miss Lydia exclaimed as she reached for something to soak up the spill.

  It took me only a second to suspect the paper Miss Lydia handed my brother was from Kitty’s sketchpad, which she had laid on the table by

  Elizabeth.

  “Lydia, what are you doing? Fetch a towel.” Elizabeth ordered as she reached out toward Fitzwilliam. “Your hand is quite red, sir. You must allow me to bandage it.”

  Clearly, Fitzwilliam was in no small amount of pain, but he turned his full attention to his companion. “I am well, Miss Elizabeth, but please reassure me you are uninjured.”
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  Looking down at her dress, Elizabeth chuckled softly. “This was never a favourite, sir. Lydia has given me reason to remake it. Perhaps I should have it dyed to match the colour of the tea?”

  I watched my brother’s shoulders relax as he met Elizabeth’s gaze. Only Miss Lydia dropping a towel upon his injured hand caused him to wince.

  “I insist, sir.” Elizabeth took the towel and wiped the remaining tea from her dress before she stood and held out her hand to Fitzwilliam. “If you will accompany me to the still room, I have a cream which will relieve your discomfort.”

  Fitzwilliam took up the towel she had discarded and wiped away any moisture from his trousers. Reluctantly he stood and offered his arm to her while holding his injured hand protectively at his side. “Lead the way, Miss Elizabeth.”

  Fluttering her hands, Mrs. Bennet nodded toward her daughter. “Yes, yes, Lizzy. Tend to Mr. Darcy. Hill!” Mrs. Bennet called as the housekeeper stepped into the room. “Oh, thank goodness. Hill, please see to this mess. Lydia bumped Mr. Darcy and now tea is everywhere.”

  As I watched, the housekeeper picked up the paper, now soaked with tea, and tossed it into the fire. Finally free from my surprise, I jumped from my seat and rushed over in time to see the drawing, on which Kitty had worked so hard, begin to smoke.

  “Oh, Kitty,” I muttered.

  “It wasn’t very good, anyway.”

  I turned to see Miss Lydia standing a few steps away; a smug smile lingered upon her lips.

  “I saw what you did; all of it.” I glared at her. “Keep your distance from my brother.”

  “Perhaps it would be better should you and your brother return to London where you belong.” Lydia’s tone was sweet, but her expression hard.

  I was about to reply, but Mrs. Hill moved toward us shaking her head ever so slightly. Taking a moment to look about, I realized we were drawing attention. I straightened my shoulders and raised my chin. “I much prefer the country,” I replied in a haughty voice and walked away.