An Arranged Marriage

by Jan Hahn

  "Do not interrupt your game," I said, advancing into the room. "I shall sit quietly until you finish."

  "As you like."

  He bent over the table once more and made a shot that I assumed to be correct, as it hit another ball into the side pocket. I knew little of the game and watched with interest as he walked around the table, positioned his cue stick with studied precision, and evidently executed perfect shots from the sound the balls made as they smacked into each other and then dropped into the pockets around the table. He had removed his coat and I could not help but notice his excellent form. He was handsome - there was no denying it - and through his long-sleeved white shirt I could see the broadness of his shoulders and the manner in which his arms filled out his clothing. I wondered if such a figure was God-given or how he had come to possess such attributes. I also wondered what it would feel like to touch those arms, to experience their strength. While I was musing upon such idle thoughts, he stopped playing and stood there watching me. Upon becoming aware of his gaze, I started visibly. Could he read my mind? Of course not! Then why did I feel guilty and exposed? I spoke quickly to conceal my consternation.

  "Do you enjoy other physical games, sir?"

  "When in town, I engage in fencing at least twice a week."

  I could think of nothing to say in reply and nodding, I turned away from his gaze.

  "Have you ever played billiards, Elizabeth?"

  I raised my eyebrows at such a question. "Hardly, sir. It is a gentleman's game."

  "Would you like to try it?"

  "Pardon?"

  "We are quite alone. Are you not at all curious to try your hand?"

  I was intrigued by the suggestion and yes, I did want to do so. I rose and took the cue stick from his outstretched hand. He took my right hand, placed the stick between my fingers and then told me where to position my left hand.

  "Now, place your hand upon the table and aim at the white ball nearest the red one."

  I attempted to do so, but I felt awkward.

  "You must bend over the table in order to do so. Here, let me show you." He took the stick from me and demonstrated the correct posture. We stood quite close, near enough that I could have reached out and touched him, touched that arm that proved so attractive. Such distraction limited my power of concentration so much so that when I attempted to copy his position, he stopped me once again.

  "No, no, you must bend over closer to the table in order to make your aim."

  I leaned over further, suddenly cognizant that the neckline of my gown proved far too revealing. I was thankful that Mr. Darcy stood behind me and not on the opposite side of the table, but then I thought of how the shape of my derriere must be exposed from the back. No wonder women do not play this game!

  "You still do not have it right. Let me help you," he said, and to my utter amazement I felt him lean over me, his left arm circling round my shoulder as he clasped my left hand and moved it further back, while his right arm surrounded mine and he placed his hand over mine. I could feel the heat from his body, his breath warm upon my cheek, and the scent of his skin heady and pleasing, filling my senses until I found it hard not to tremble. "Now, pull the cue stick through your fingers like this," he said, pulling it back and forth through our combined fingers, "keep your eyes on the ball, and shoot."

  With a deft movement, we sent the white ball rolling across the table, where it hit a red ball neatly into the corner pocket.

  "There! See with what ease you made the shot!" he said, as we both straightened up together. Was he as aware as I was that his arms still encircled me?

  "Yes," I managed to say, "easy, indeed with your guidance." I turned my face towards him and there was not an inch between his countenance and mine. We gazed into each other's eyes for what seemed like minutes to me, but surely could not have been more than an instant before he released me and stepped aside. I felt my colour rise and I averted my face, busying myself with replacing the cue stick in its holder.

  "Shall you not try it again?"

  "No, sir, I believe I have tried enough for now. Perhaps another night."

  "Yes, perhaps," he said, keeping his gaze upon me. I looked up, met his eyes and wondered if it was billiards of which we spoke.

  I excused myself and left the room, all too shaken by the feelings that engulfed me. I found my way into a small parlor where I had left some needlework; how grateful I was to find something with which to occupy my hands, but how disconcerting to discover my fingers trembled too much to make a straight stitch. I had never experienced such feelings before, such attraction to any man, not even to the young swains who had courted me in earlier times. I liked dancing with handsome young men well enough, even flirting with them at balls and assemblies, but not one of them had ever affected me the way that Mr. Darcy had just accomplished. In one way the sentiment filled me with anticipation and in another with great dismay. Could such sensations occur with someone I professed to dislike, with someone I could not possibly love?

  My thoughts were interrupted when he entered the room. I applied myself to my embroidery with a renewed focus while he poured himself a glass of Madeira. He offered me one, but I declined. I needed nothing more to cause my head to swim. I determined to discuss his sister with him once again, not only because we needed such discussion, rather because it was the safest subject I could think of.

  "Sir, I would importune upon you to speak more of Georgiana. You have instructed me not to talk with her about Mr. Wickham, but I fear he is the object she most needs to discuss with me."

  "I fail to comprehend your meaning."

  "Your sister was heartily misused by my brother-in-law. Can you possibly think that she does not hold that against me?"

  "Why should she? You had nothing to do with it. Your sister married the scoundrel without your sanction, did she not?"

  "She did not, sir. By the time Lydia and Mr. Wickham wed, I was all too relieved that he married her."

  "That is not what I meant. Let me rephrase my words. You would never have desired your sister to elope with Mr. Wickham, would you?"

  "Of course not, but Georgiana is unaware of that."

  "But she is, for I told her that very truth on the day she departed with Fitzwilliam. The entire subject is one that causes her great pain and I do not want the issue even mentioned in her presence."

  "Are you sure that her feelings correspond with yours? Could it be that she might benefit from talking of her fears and anxieties about the matter?"

  "Absolutely not. I do not see wisdom in such an approach. My wishes and directions remain as they were, Elizabeth. Do not mention Mr. Wickham to Georgiana, other than to assure her she need have no contact with him."

  I glared at him. How could he be so infuriating in his demands, so insensible in his discernment? How did he know what Georgiana needed to talk about? For that matter, how did I? Once again, I thought of the morrow with diffidence.

  ~ * ~

  The next day I arose late, my sleep disturbed for much of the night by strange dreams. At times some unseen menace chased me and then, without explanation, I turned willingly to embrace that same fearful, faceless person. I had not the slightest idea what it all meant and awoke exhausted.

  Added to my fatigue was the fact that before I went to bed, I had spent nigh on to two hours rummaging through my books and correspondence, searching out the letter Mr. Darcy had given me last April in Rosings Park. My efforts proved in vain. I longed to read the letter again, to once again review the history between the writer and Mr. Wickham. I am a great believer in reading between the lines and I wondered if that letter might enlighten me as to Mr. Darcy's character, for I certainly needed no further enlightenment as to Wickham's nature. I recalled the anger that had beset me upon reading it the first time - oh yes, I had been ashamed that I had ever believed Mr. Wickham's lies - but I confess that Mr. Darcy's further admittance that he had willingly kept Bingley and Jane apart had so infuriated me that I had thrown the letter aside
after only one reading. Instead of carefully weighing his words, I had discarded them and evidently I had done an effective job of discarding the letter, itself. I wondered if I had forgotten it at Longbourn or even worse, left it at Hunsford parsonage. I vowed to write Jane that morning and ask her to make a thorough inspection of my room and upon finding the missive, dispatch it to me immediately. I should like to do the same with Charlotte, but I feared she might read it or even worse, it might fall into the hands of Mr. Collins. I would begin with Jane, for I knew I could trust her to send it unread.

  As for the present, I was in great need of a cup of coffee and so I descended the stairs to the sound of voices within the breakfast room. I assumed Mr. Darcy's sister must have already returned and what must she think of me still abed at that hour? With a determined straightening of my shoulders and a forced smile on my face, I raised my head and resolved to face my new responsibility - that of winning over Georgiana.

  I entered the room only to relax and beam at the welcome sight of Mr. Bingley. How relieved I was to see him instead of my sister-in-law.

  "Miss Bennet!" he exclaimed. "That is, I should say Mrs. Darcy! How good it is to see you. Let me be the first to offer you my best wishes on the occasion of your marriage to this dull fellow here."

  "Thank you, sir. I am very glad to see you as well."

  "Only yesterday I returned to town and I could not believe the two of you married without letting me know. I have upbraided Darcy for the past half hour. Tell me, were all your sisters present at the wedding?"

  "All but one, sir."

  "Ah," he said, and I felt certain he was fishing for information about Jane.

  "My youngest sister is lately married, herself, Mr. Bingley, and has moved to Newcastle with her husband. It was too far a distance to travel for my wedding and, in fact, I have not seen them since their marriage."

  The relief on his face shone through in his eyes and even broader smile. "I see. And so all of your other sisters are well, I trust, and still reside at Longbourn?"

  "Yes," I assured him. I shot a glance at Mr. Darcy, wondering if he had yet deigned the time appropriate to inform Mr. Bingley of his part in preventing him from seeing Jane when she was in London last winter. From the easy camaraderie between them, it did not appear that he had, for I felt certain Mr. Bingley would at least countenance some anger toward his friend at such deceit. Oh, how I hoped that discussion might occur between them today! But at present, I discovered they were making plans to attend a concert together on Wednesday evening.

  "Shall you not enjoy such an outing, Mrs. Darcy?" Mr. Bingley asked.

  "I do not know, sir. I have never been to a concert in London, but I look forward to it."

  "Excellent."

  Just then a commotion in the hall signaled the return of Georgiana, accompanied by Colonel Fitzwilliam. They were greeted and offered refreshment, but it appeared all had eaten except for me. I decided to forego the meal and made do with coffee. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley made much of Miss Darcy and brother and sister were soon engrossed in conversation. I observed Mr. Bingley to see if his attentions to her were apropos of a man in love (as Caroline had insisted that he was), but I could ascertain no special attention other than that he paid to any other woman. Certainly, it did not compare to the interest he had shown my sister when at Hertfordshire.

  "And so, Mrs. Darcy," Colonel Fitzwilliam said, joining me in a cup of coffee, "how do you like married life by now?"

  I blushed at the question and tried to smile. "I am much intrigued by London, sir. I have never been so excessively diverted. There is much to see and do. One is quite bewildered by all the choices."

  He agreed with me, and I hoped that he did not wonder why I had answered his question by changing the subject. If so, thankfully he was too much of a gentleman to pursue it and we passed no little time in casual conversation. Three-quarters of an hour later, he arose and announced that he must return to his unit.

  "Come and walk me to the door, Georgie," he said, holding out his hand to her.

  "And why should I, Richard? Just so you can lecture me once again?"

  "Lecture?" Mr. Darcy asked. "Has she needed lecturing, Fitzwilliam?"

  "You would not believe how often, Darcy! I have spent two weeks trying to make a lady out of her, but I fear the task is impossible."

  "Richard!" She blushed a rosy pink. "You will have Mrs. Darcy think I am a hoyden! Truly, I have not needed lectures. He simply enjoys having someone to harangue. I fear he has been away from his troops far too long and I have borne the brunt of their absence."

  "Go along with you, now, Sprout," the colonel said, laughing as he escorted her out of the breakfast room. We could hear their gentle banter continue down the hall. Once again, I found myself envy their easy spirit with one another.

  It was not long after the colonel left the house that Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy made plans to depart for their men's club. Out in the hall, Mr. Darcy kissed his sister's cheek, telling her how glad he was that she had returned.

  "Then why do you leave almost as soon as I arrive, Wills?"

  "Appointments, my dear. Besides, this will give you time to acquaint yourself with Elizabeth."

  As soon as the door closed behind the men, however, she turned for the stairs and I could see that she was poised to flee my presence.

  "Georgiana, might you accompany me to the music room? I found a fugue by Bach that I am unable to play. Will you not take pity and assist me with the fingering?"

  I could see the hesitation in her manner, but the enticement of a piece of music proved to win her over. We sat down at the pianoforte together and she demonstrated the correct manner in which to play the selection.

  "I fear I have not practiced near enough," I said. "It is evident you have progressed much farther in your mastery of the technique required for this difficult a piece. Pray, tell me how many hours you devote to your art."

  "It depends upon the day. When I am alone, as is often the case, I seem to lose myself in the music. At times half a day has gone by before I rise from this instrument."

  I shook my head. "I am impressed, my dear. You are even more dedicated than my sister."

  She stiffened at my remark and I wondered what I had said to cause her response. "Your sister who married recently? Is that the one to whom you refer?"

  "Lydia? Oh, no, Lydia has neither ear for music nor patience to practice. I refer to my sister, Mary. She is the one who loves to play."

  "So you have two sisters then? I should have liked to have a sister." "I have four sisters...and now, it appears I have five."

  When she looked at me with a question in her eyes, I said, "You, Georgiana, are now my sister, are you not?"

  "Oh, I had not thought of that. I am afraid I do not know how to act with a sister."

  "Well, it is not difficult, believe me. I hope that you and I shall be friends, as that is what the best of sisters become."

  "I have never had many friends, Mrs. Darcy."

  "Oh? And why is that? I do not understand."

  "Most of the year I live at Pemberley with my companion, Mrs. Annesley. I have had a succession of companions, but never many friends my own age. I am rarely in London, for my brother prefers that I stay in the country, and when in town, I see only his friends who are all much older than I."

  "That is abominable! The house should be filled with young people your age. Why does not your brother see to it?"

  "Wills is very protective. I...I have been taken advantage of in the past and he is careful that it should not occur again."

  "I understand protection, but Georgiana, you must not be forced to live a solitary life."

  "Oh, I am not complaining," she said quickly, rising from the piano stool and walking to a chair near the fireplace. "I love my brother."

  "That is well and good," I said, following her, "but he cannot be your only companion."

  "My mother died shortly after I was born and I fear my father did not know what to do
with a daughter. He loved me dearly, but I think he and Wills have always been afraid something would happen to me, perhaps because of the loss of my mother. Thus, I have seen little outside of our home in Derbyshire and this house in London."

  "But who did you play with when you were little?"

  "As I said, I had a number of companions and governesses, all much older women who were more like mothers than friends. About six years ago, however, I did make friends with one of the servants. I know that sounds strange, for such an attachment is not usually sanctioned, but we had a common affliction, having both lost our mothers when very young. She was a few years older than me and for some reason, we took to each other immediately and I loved her. When she could steal away from her duties, we would run and play in the orchard at Pemberley. She taught me to climb trees and wade in the shallow end of the pond, things that scandalized my governess."

  I smiled with her at the memory, gratified that she would confide in me. "And is she still at Pemberley?"

  "No, she is here. In fact, Wills said he was giving her to you as your personal maid."

  "Fiona?"

  "Yes, does she satisfy you, for if not, I should be glad to have Fee transferred to my service?"

  "She is quite satisfactory." This turn in the conversation surprised me. "Fee" seemed to be a favourite of both brother and sister, it would seem.

  "I hope that you do not object to the fact that she has a child." She blushed slightly and looked at her hands in her lap.

  "As long as it does not interfere with her duties, I can see no reason to object."

  "She is not married, you know." Georgiana pressed her lips together and kept her face averted.