Georgiana Darcy, Matchmaker

by Bronwen Chisholm

“Will others not believe it was planned?”

  Mrs. Annesley shrugged her shoulders. “Is it important? They look very well together, but it is their behaviour that may cause talk, not the colour of his clothing or hers. Should your brother pay sole attention to her, fawn over her, or stare moon eyed …”

  “As Mr. Bingley?” I giggled as I glanced at our host who was grinning like a schoolboy at the eldest Bennet daughter.

  “Precisely. Expectations have formed regarding their future. I would not be surprised if they announced a courtship before the week ended. Prying eyes will then turn to Miss Elizabeth, but they still remember her initial reaction toward Mr. Darcy, as well as his insult. They will not quickly accept such a reversal in feelings.”

  I fell silent, deep in thought, and missed the remainder of the dance. There was so much I had not considered when attempting to secure what I believed would be my brother’s happiness. Absent-mindedly I rubbed my temple.

  “Georgie? Are you unwell?”

  I looked up to find my brother and his partner standing before me. “Oh, has the dance ended?”

  Fitzwilliam frowned. “Did you not rest this afternoon? Perhaps you should take a plate to your room and retire early.”

  Elizabeth laid a hand upon my cheek, concern showing in her eyes. “You are not warm; does your head ache?”

  Smiling at the loving attention, I shook my head. “I am well, thank you. I was simply lost in thought and am now disappointed that I did not see the whole of the dance.”

  My brother’s eyes narrowed as he studied me. Though it was clear he did not fully believe me, he held out his hand. “Then let us go into supper before you miss more of the festivities.”

  I smiled gratefully as I rose and took his arm. I noted Elizabeth held his left arm as he cradled that injured limb against his chest.

  “Does your hand pain you, Fitzwilliam?”

  He glanced down at the wrapped appendage before allowing his gaze to drift toward his companion. “During previous dances, it did; but Miss Elizabeth was most attentive to my comfort.”

  “As the injury occurred in my presence, I was most mindful of it, sir. I would not like you to believe the Bennets were determined to always cause you harm.” Her brow rose as she smiled at him in a teasing manner.

  “Are you my protector, Miss Elizabeth?”

  Her lips drew together in an attempt to hide her amusement. “That will not do, Mr. Darcy. You have promised to guard your sister and me. You cannot abdicate your responsibility so easily.”

  “No, I suppose you are correct,” he sighed. Turning slightly, he winked at me. “Though Georgiana shall be retiring after supper.”

  Elizabeth’s light laughter carried us into the dining room. “And when it is just the two of us remaining behind, you would place protection upon my shoulders?”

  “Never,” he said softly as he led her to her place. Once she was seated, he assisted me, and then claimed the chair between us.

  I watched as he questioned Elizabeth regarding her preferences. He flinched as he served her, and I was pleased to accept the young officer to my right when he offered to fill my plate. It was obvious to me that Fitzwilliam was in more pain than he acknowledged. I wondered how to send word to Mr. Preston. Perhaps I could ask Fitzwilliam to escort me to my room and he could have his hand tended to at that time.

  “Georgie?”

  I looked up to see my brother frowning at me. “Forgive me, Fitzwilliam. I …”

  “Mr. Darcy, I apologize for stepping over my bounds and attending your sister. You may not remember me, but I served with your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. My name is Jacobs, Captain John Jacobs.” The man bowed his head.

  “Jacobs? I do remember you. Were you not … an intricate member of my cousin’s squadron?”

  I looked between the men. I could tell my brother meant to say more, but was uncertain that he should. While the young officer was attempting to provide information without speaking.

  “Yes, yes. I was wounded in battle and returned to England to recuperate. The Colonel suggested I spend some time with the militia, see over certain interests, and regain my strength before returning to his side.” His brow rose upon the word ‘interests’ and I wondered what my cousin was about.

  “I see.” Fitzwilliam glanced at me and then back to the young man at my side. “Perhaps we should speak after supper.”

  “I believe it would be wise, sir.”

  My brother looked at him a bit longer before turning to me. “Georgiana, may I introduce Captain Jacobs. Captain, my sister, Miss Darcy.”

  Feeling as though I had been passed along, as one would pass a precious trinket to a trusted companion to guard, I lowered my head in acknowledgement to the introduction.

  “Miss Darcy, I feel as though we are already acquainted; your cousin speaks of you frequently.”

  I glanced toward my brother, but he was speaking quietly with Elizabeth and I was unable to hear what was said. “Well, you have me at a disadvantage, sir. Unfortunately, my cousin rarely speaks to me of his work or his troops.”

  Captain Jacobs blushed. “No, I suppose he would not. Shall I tell you of myself and how I came to be friends with your cousin?”

  Looking back at my brother once more, I nodded and turned my full focus to the man at my side. As he spoke, I realized he was not as young as I originally thought. Though his features were youthful, the creases about his eyes spoke of years in the elements.

  “Like the Colonel, I am a younger son; however, I did not grow up longing to serve my King as he did. That decision came later. My father is the Earl of Suthridge.”

  “Suthridge? I know that name. Your father and my uncle are friends, are they not?”

  “Indeed, tis how I became a soldier.” The Captain motioned a servant forward to fill their cups as he continued telling his story. “I was captivated by philosophy when I was a lad, but my father feared my outspokenness would not fit well within the Church. When he learned your cousin had entered the Army, he determined I should follow in his footsteps. Our fathers were able to force hands a bit, and I was placed under the Colonel’s command. He is a good man.”

  “Yes, Richard and my brother are the best men I know.” I took a spoonful of soup and waited for him to continue.

  “I have been pleased to serve with him, and to now be of some assistance here.”

  “You mentioned that earlier. Does Richard know Mr. Wickham is in Hertfordshire?”

  I was forced to look away when Captain Jacobs began coughing on the piece of meat he had bit into just before my statement. Obviously, he believed me to be ignorant of that man’s presence. Before he could fully recover and respond, I continued. “I believe Fitzwilliam wishes to tell you we suspect Mr. Wickham will make an appearance this evening.”

  The man eyed me suspiciously. “He has told the officers he will not attend.”

  Nodding, I picked up my glass and brought it to my lips. After taking a sip, I replaced it and turned my attention to him once more. “It appears he had made plans to meet with … a young woman this evening.” Though I tried, I was unable to call Miss Lydia Bennet a lady.

  Captain Jacobs’ eyes narrowed as he studied me. “And will that rendezvous continue?”

  My jaw fell open. “It is not me!” I glanced about to be certain no one had noticed my reaction. “Her father is aware of her intentions and has taken measures to thwart their plans,” I said in a calmer tone.

  “I am pleased to hear it.” He smiled before returning his attention to his plate. “I understand you are not yet out, so you will be retiring following dinner?”

  “Yes. My brother had thought to have me retire earlier, but Elizabeth and I convinced him it would be better for me to remain below.”

  “Miss Elizabeth is a wise lady. I believe it would be best to determine Mr. Wickham’s whereabouts before you leave the safety of the ball.”

  I turned to catch his eye. “But would it not be odd if I remained beyond the time expec
ted? Would people not talk?”

  The Captain shrugged. “They may simply believe your brother is unable to refuse your wishes.” He smirked. “I am certain you are not the only young lady of the first circles who has been spoiled by her family.”

  I straightened, suddenly taking offense. “I beg your pardon? I am not spoiled.”

  “Are you not?” His lower lip curled out as though he considered my words doubtful. “Yet most young ladies are. Those I have encountered are exceedingly accustomed to having their way.”

  Doubt tickled my conscience, but I held my head high. “I do not see that as being spoiled. I am not like other girls who faint or cry to gain their heart’s desires.”

  His countenance became exceedingly serious as he studied me. “I believe you.”

  I was just about to smile when he continued.

  “You are far too intelligent to use such simple means. No, I suspect you prefer to eavesdrop and manipulate what you hear to your advantage.” His eyes narrowed a bit more, just before a slow smile spread across his features. “Though I see pouting is not beneath you.”

  Realizing my lip had indeed begun to do as he said, I pulled it back in and turned away. A low chuckle drew my attention back to him.

  “Forgive me, Miss Darcy, I meant no offense. I have several sisters, you see, and am quite familiar with the means they execute when they are most desperate to have their way.” He laughed again as he took up his glass and tipped it toward me. “A truce?”

  Reluctantly, I took up my glass and nodded. “I believe I understand why Richard likes you.”

  The man laughed once more and the lines, which aged him moments earlier, now appeared what they should have been all along; signs of a joyful life. “I suppose the Colonel and I do share a similar outlook; we have been known to find amusement in situations when those around us are bereft of humour.”

  “I suppose a soldier’s life is not often a pleasurable one.” I moved the food about my plate as I considered the man at my side. “How was my cousin when you last saw him?”

  His countenance became serious once more. “He was well. I fear I am unable to say more.” He laid his hand on the table between us. “The Colonel is an honourable man who is unwavering in his support of his King and country. It is men like him who will win this war.”

  Lifting my glass once more in his direction, I forced a smile. “May it end soon.”

  “Here, here.” He drank with me.

  The glasses were returned to the table and we said little while we finished our meal. I was about to ask the Captain what he thought of Hertfordshire when Fitzwilliam once more turned in our direction.

  “Captain Jacobs, if you have a moment, I would like a word with you.”

  “Certainly, sir.” The officer bowed to Elizabeth and myself as he and Fitzwilliam stood and left the room.

  Elizabeth looked at me, a strange smile gracing her lips. “I suppose they must go and fortify the castle walls.”

  Having been lost in contemplation of my earlier conversation with the Captain, I responded with a weak smile. Suddenly feeling exceedingly guilty for my behaviour, I reached out to my friend. “Elizabeth, I must ask your forgiveness. I realize I have been quite horrid in my actions of late. I have not behaved as a proper lady would at all.”

  Concern flooded Elizabeth’s countenance as she moved to the seat Fitzwilliam had vacated and took my hands in hers. “How so? I have seen nothing inappropriate.”

  I shook my head. “I have listened while you and Fitzwilliam spoke privately, and tried to force the two of you together though you both asked me to stop. I have been so disrespectful.”

  The corner of Elizabeth’s mouth twitched as she patted my hands. “Oh, you behaved like any sixteen-year-old girl. I believe that is forgivable.”

  I shook my head again. “But I knew I should not do so.” I lowered my eyes, afraid to meet Elizabeth’s gaze.

  “True, and of course every young girl knows what is right and does it faithfully. It is obvious you are the only one to act so truly horrible.” There was a pause, but I refused to look up. “And what is more important are your motives. I am certain, for you to feel so terrible, that you did these things solely for your own benefit.”

  This brought my head up, my eyes opened wide in innocence. “No. I wanted only what I thought was best for you and Fitzwilliam.”

  Elizabeth smiled brightly. “Of course, you did.” She laughed quietly. “Dear Georgie, I am beginning to believe you are a puzzling combination of all that is sweet in Jane and all that is puckish in me.” She slipped an arm about my shoulders. “Come; let us go see what is keeping your brother.”

  “But will he not be displeased? I am certain he would not want us wandering the halls.” I blushed as I remembered his words earlier. “He told me couples sometimes steal away during balls, and I must remain with a large group so I am not found in a compromising situation.”

  “Oh? Well I suppose that may be true in town, but I doubt the watchful eyes of the Meryton matrons would allow such here. I am certain they know where every young maiden is at all times, or so I was led to believe when I attended my first ball.” She winked and took my arm as we stood. “If your brother is displeased, we shall simply tell him we were on our way to the retiring room before the dancing began again.”

  “I suppose.” I bit the inside of my cheek as we left the dining room. My mind returned to the couple I had glimpsed in the hallway earlier. Obviously the matrons’ skills are slipping.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The thought of the mysterious couple still lingered in my mind as Elizabeth and I walked down the hall leading away from the ballroom. My brother was nowhere to be seen. As we approached the alcove, I allowed my gaze to linger there.

  It was a simple recess, unremarkable really; in fact, it appeared exceedingly barren. I wondered why Miss Bingley had not filled it with some notion or other; perhaps a table, bench, or pedestal holding a flower arrangement. Of course it was November and few flowers were to be found, those that were graced the front hall.

  As I was turning to continue on my way, I noticed something on the floor. Disengaging my arm from my companion, I bent to pick it up.

  “What is that you have found?” Elizabeth asked as she looked over my shoulder.

  Frowning, I passed the bit of fabric to my friend as I stood. “I am uncertain. Could it have been torn from someone’s gown?”

  “Hmm,” Elizabeth studied it closely. “It appears to be a token.”

  “A token?”

  “Yes, to a passer-by it might look like a bit of fabric and lace, perhaps torn from a gown or a handkerchief; but see here? It feels as though there is a lock of hair sown inside. The gentleman could wear it close to his heart and people would think nothing of it.” She sniffed it. “And it has been scented, most likely with the lady’s favourite fragrance.” Her brow creased and she sniffed it again.

  “What? Is there something odd about the scent?” I leaned closer in an attempt to smell it.

  Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and handed it to me. “Not odd, I simply thought I recognized it. It isn’t rose or lavender as many ladies wear, but it seems familiar to me for some reason.”

  I smelled the bit of linen and lace, but shook my head. “What should we do with it?”

  “Do with what?” my brother’s voice came from behind me.

  “Oh, Fitzwilliam. We found this on the floor in the alcove.” I held it out to him, but he frowned as though he had no desire to touch it.

  Captain Jacobs stepped forward and accepted it instead. After studying it closely, he leaned forward. “Mr. Darcy, see here. There appear to be initials stitched into the fabric.”

  Taking the token, Fitzwilliam stepped closer to a wall lamp and examined the spot the Captain had indicated. “I cannot make it out.”

  Elizabeth crossed to his side, smiling. “Perhaps I might be of assistance. My stitching was quite ill when I was younger. I may be able to read another’s le
ttering.” She leaned forward and stared at the material in his hand. “Could that be an M? See how the second stitch is quite close to the first? At first I thought it was a backwards N.”

  Lifting it closer to the light, Fitzwilliam nodded. “I believe you are correct. Do you think the next might be a K?”

  “Yes. M K?” She thought a moment before her eyes widened. “Mary King! And that is the scent she wears. It was a gift from her grandfather when he travelled to Paris. Since he passed, she has worn it frequently.”

  I looked to my brother who had continued to study the remaining stitches.

  His lips pursed as he handed the token to Captain Jacobs. “If I am not mistaken, the remaining letters are G W, though the W does resemble an N.” He turned toward Elizabeth. “You said her grandfather has passed? Is she an heiress?”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she looked to me and then back to Fitzwilliam. “I have heard it said she inherited ten thousand pounds.”

  “Oh my,” I murmured as I began chewing my nail.

  “What is it, dearest?” Fitzwilliam took my hand, lowering it to my side.

  “I found it in that alcove.” I pointed to the spot just behind me. “Earlier this evening, when Kitty and I were walking from the retiring room to the ball room, I heard noises coming from there and saw a flash of red.”

  “Why did you not speak of this earlier?” Fitzwilliam questioned me brusquely.

  “I doubt she thought it important.” Elizabeth slipped an arm about my shoulders as her eyes flashed at Fitzwilliam.

  “Not important that Wickham was here?”

  “How could she know it was him?”

  “Forgive my interruption,” Captain Jacobs said just loud enough to draw their attention. “Miss Darcy, this was before you were aware Mr. Wickham may be at the ball?”

  “Yes,” I responded timidly.

  “And were you able to see anything other than the colour red?” He smiled reassuringly at me.

  “Nothing. I was glancing over my shoulder as I walked in the other direction. I heard a woman’s giggle and soft voices and looked back to see who was there.”