She gave a little shiver, her eyes filling, and reached for his hand.
‘Have no worries on that score, my dearest. We are going to marry. Is it not plain to you?’
Relief spread through him. He breathed deeply, before replying: ‘You seemed quiet these last days, even downcast. Perhaps it was the rigours of the journey.’
She shook her head. ‘It has been a reaction, I believe, to the period we passed in Brussels after the battle. I have never experienced such excitement and comradeship before. I cannot say how much it meant to me. For the first time in my life I contributed to something worthwhile. I longed to return home, but still it was a wrench to leave Lorraine and the others.’
He nodded, understanding what she meant. ‘You have not been in anxiety over—our future.’
‘Not at all. Before, while we sailed down the Rhine, I had doubts. In Brussels I was too immersed in nursing to have any thoughts about myself. And when it was over, I knew, without further reflection, that our destiny was decided. Perhaps it is perverse, but I feel in spirit we are already married. The ceremony will merely confirm it.’
‘Because we pretended to be man and wife in Italy?’
She laughed. ‘No. Because of what happened later. I was so proud of what you had achieved at the camp, and longed to help, like you and Lorraine. To my surprise and relief I found that I really could do it. I could face terrible wounds, disgusting chores, life-and-death decisions, and care for those poor men. And I was proud that we were both overjoyed to find Mr Wickham alive; and that without a second thought you secured him the best treatment. I recalled with shame my panic on the boat when you told me of Mr Wickham’s designs on your sister. How inconvenient for me that such a scoundrel should prevent me from marrying the man I loved! But the truth is …’ She faced him, taking a breath. ‘The truth is that the world was not created for our convenience. We fear Georgiana’s distress that my sister is now Mrs Wickham, but as you pointed out, is it so awful that she should be upset for a while? Must everything be perfect? I am flawed, so are you, so will our marriage be. No matter. We both know we belong together, and that is that.’
They were silent a long time, until Darcy said, with a smile, ‘So imperfection is the human condition.’
She laughed. ‘It took me a long time to say that.’
‘Yet some moments are perfect, and this is one of them.’ He raised her hand to his lips.
She faced him, radiating confidence, delight, certainty. ‘You could kiss me even better if we stood up.’
They rose, and observing the protruding edges of her bonnet, he began slowly to unlace it.
‘You seem in no hurry, sir,’ she complained.
‘I am savouring the moment.’
She coloured, her whole body trembling in anticipation as his arms went around her.
57
St Margaret’s Church struck six as they crossed Westminster Bridge, festooned with flags to celebrate Wellington’s victory. Elizabeth sat opposite the gentlemen, with Rosie Briggs at her side playing with one of Herr von Essen’s wooden dolls. They were not far now from Brompton, where Martha lived with Corporal Briggs’s mother; however, Darcy preferred to proceed first to his town house in Mayfair, so that driver and horses could be changed before taking Mrs Briggs and daughter to their home.
They traversed the parkland around St James’s Palace and Buckingham House—now Queen Charlotte’s residence—and before long entered Park Lane, with Hyde Park and the Serpentine on their left, and grand town houses on their right. A turn into Grosvenor Street, and the carriage at last stopped outside a broad terraced house with three stories plus basement and attic.
Darcy handed Elizabeth down, and she took in a well-kept facade with black-painted railings overhanging the basement area, and pillars framing three steps leading to the main entrance, also black, with brass fittings. A footman ushered them to a palatial drawing room papered in crimson, with a parquet floor, Indian rug, and comfortable chairs and divans in unobtrusive good taste.
A young woman appeared in the doorway, looked shyly at the party, then cried out and ran to Darcy with arms outstretched.
‘William! Home at last!’
Elizabeth observed the girl with curiosity. The family resemblance was clear: she was quite tall, with a straight nose and intelligent blue-grey eyes. However, unlike Darcy her colouring was fair, with very pale skin, and blonde hair carefully pinned.
‘Miss Bennet.’ Darcy led the girl towards her. ‘May I introduce my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy.’
Georgiana regarded her with a mixture of shyness and avid interest, but seemed lost for words.
Elizabeth smiled. ‘You must be relieved to have your brother back safe.’
‘Oh yes. I had his letters of course.’
‘And Colonel Fitzwilliam too. You have been left quite alone.’
‘Well, I have had Mrs Annesley. Also, since last week, Mr Bingley is in town. I believe you are acquainted?’ She put a hand to her mouth. ‘But how foolish of me! He is betrothed to your sister.’
‘I have heard the good news, but the post has been so unreliable that one can take nothing for granted. I hear you are fond of music, Miss Darcy.’
‘Oh yes. It is my favourite pastime.’ Again she stopped abruptly. ‘But I am forgetting! My brother said in a letter that you had accompanied a famous singer at a concert in Italy. I’m sure you play far better than I.’
Elizabeth laughed. ‘You will be disabused of that idea directly you hear me play. Perhaps we can try a duet this evening.’
‘I would love that.’
Darcy clapped his hands and addressed the whole gathering. ‘Welcome to our London home. Dinner will be served in half an hour. Meanwhile, permit us to show you your rooms. Miss Bennet, perhaps Georgiana can escort you, since your chamber is next to hers.’
‘You are all kindness, sir.’ She met his eye with an arch smile, and then looked away, realising how closely Georgiana was observing them.
‘Shall we go immediately?’ Georgiana asked.
‘One moment.’ Elizabeth drew Darcy aside. ‘I ought to call on my uncle and aunt Gardiner to reassure them I am well. However, it is getting late and I am tired of sitting in carriages.’
‘Why not send a message? I can invite them to visit us tomorrow morning, if that is convenient.’
Elizabeth smiled her relief. ‘Perfect. I will feel so much better if they are informed.’
With a glance at Georgiana, now talking to Colonel Fitzwilliam, Darcy whispered: ‘My sister too should be informed, of what we agreed earlier.’
‘Certainly,’ Elizabeth whispered. ‘But can you wait until tomorrow? Let me get to know her first.’
At eleven o’clock, Elizabeth accompanied Georgiana to their corridor on the second floor. She was tired, but not quite ready to sleep: with the gentlemen enjoying brandy and cigars in Darcy’s study, no doubt exchanging tales of the war or some such masculine topic, it was time for a private chat with the lady of the house.
The evening had passed in an atmosphere of relaxed contentment, as she reacquainted herself with the routines of English life. Familiar brands of rouge and cream were laid out in her dressing room. Instead of challenging continental dishes, they had enjoyed Irish stew, still fashionable in the ton. She had sight-read duets with Georgiana in the music room, happily trilling out handfuls of wrong notes that would have shocked Carandini. It also served her purpose that Georgiana knew these pieces while she did not: after their session, the girl was no longer daunted.
They shared Georgiana’s maid, and when they were in their dressing gowns, Elizabeth suggested cocoa before retiring.
‘I would like that. We can go to my boudoir.’
The maid left for the kitchen, and they made themselves comfortable in the cosy retreat, furnished like a miniature salon, which adjoined Georgiana’s bedroom. While waiting for their drinks they talked of safe topics, but sooner or later the nettle would have to be grasped. How much did Georg
iana know? Had Darcy told her, in person or in his letters, of his feelings for the woman that had shared his Grand Tour?
‘You find your brother well?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘Oh yes! So much more content than formerly.’ Georgiana flushed, as if unsure how to continue, and sipped cocoa to occupy the silence. ‘You see, Miss Bennet, last year William was not himself. He had been preoccupied for some months, then in the spring returned from Kent in the darkest mood. I have never seen him so low.’ Her eyes moistened. ‘It is unpleasant to contemplate, for I believe his distress was my fault.’
Elizabeth stared at her. ‘My dear Miss Darcy, what do you mean?’
Georgiana hung her head, biting her lip. ‘I ought not to speak of it. You see …’ She looked up, as if in supplication. ‘I made a mistake. A bad mistake, which upset my brother exceedingly, and gave him no end of trouble. It was resolved, covered up anyway, but it took him a long time to get over it. He was often away in those months, visiting Mr Bingley in Hertfordshire. I believe he found it painful to remain in my company.’
Elizabeth’s heart went out to the girl as she struggled to retain her poise. Impulsively she moved to the divan and took her hand. ‘Listen. I happen to know why your brother returned from Rosings in a black mood, and the reason is not what you imagine. Your, ah, mistake was far from his mind. The person who angered him was—me.’
Georgiana gaped at her.
‘I will explain.’ Elizabeth smiled. ‘And you will discover that you are not the only person who makes mistakes. I met your brother in Hertfordshire, and then by chance at Rosings, while visiting a friend who had married the parson. Mr Darcy, much to my surprise, offered me his hand in marriage, whereupon I made my first mistake. I rejected his offer in the rudest fashion imaginable.’
Georgiana gasped. ‘No! I cannot believe …’
‘Wait. There is more. Not only was I rude, but I justified my refusal by accusations that proved entirely false. Mistake number two. Still more: when he wrote a letter explaining my errors, I refused to read it. Three!’
‘But Miss Bennet …’
‘I have not finished! Having rejected the finest man I had ever met, I befriended an unscrupulous Italian woman, allowed her deranged brother to believe I would marry him, and ended up a prisoner in Venice. Four! Were it not for Mr Darcy I would probably be there still, the victim of a forced marriage.’
‘So that is why …’ Georgiana’s eyes were like saucers. ‘Is that all the mistakes?’
Elizabeth laughed. ‘On my side, yes. However, earlier today your brother committed the ultimate folly of asking me again to marry him …’
‘Oh, Miss Bennet!’ Georgiana faced her with a radiant smile. ‘I see it all now. That is why William is so changed, so relaxed and happy …’
Elizabeth nodded. ‘Just so. Perhaps the stars were in a favourable configuration, perhaps divine providence came to our aid, but for once in my life I did the right thing. I accepted, and unless he comes to his senses and quickly changes his mind, we are to be married.’
Georgiana hesitated, perhaps nonplussed by so many twists and turns, but her warm smile returned. ‘I am overjoyed and wish you every happiness.’
‘Thank you.’ Elizabeth relaxed a little: the first hurdle was crossed. But she had to go further. ‘Miss Darcy, being serious for once, I am aware of my good fortune in marrying your brother. However, a concern remains.’ She leaned closer and lowered her voice. ‘You may have heard that my youngest sister, Lydia, was recently wed.’
Georgiana coloured, and nodded assent.
‘To a man we are both acquainted with. Mr Wickham.’
She flinched, and managed another tiny nod.
Elizabeth swallowed. ‘I am now going to distress you, but I see no alternative. For a very special reason, your brother has explained what passed between you and Mr Wickham at Ramsgate, when you were fifteen. Let me assure you that he has confided in myself alone, after I, like you, had been deceived by Mr Wickham, and accused Mr Darcy of maltreating him. Thus I am already aware, in outline, of the mistake you referred to before.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Could you bear the thought of your brother marrying a woman who now finds herself, much to her distaste, that gentleman’s sister-in-law?’
Georgiana fell silent, biting her lip in concentration. ‘I see no difficulty, except …’ She coloured. ‘I would be discomfited if the Wickhams were to visit Pemberely.’
‘They will never be invited. You have my word, as well as Mr Darcy’s.’
Georgiana looked away dreamily. ‘You will think me foolish, but I feel no hatred towards George—I mean, Mr Wickham. I know he is unprincipled. But he was kind to me when I was a small girl, and our … indiscretion was as much my fault as his. I hope he will mend his ways, and find joy in his marriage to your sister.’
Elizabeth thought for a while, before replying: ‘Then I should acquaint you with the latest developments.’ And Georgiana listened open-mouthed as she told of Wickham’s heroism in the battle, and the injury from which he was now recovering.’
‘So William actually helped him!’ Georgiana said.
‘He did, and without my prompting.’
‘William is so good.’ Georgiana pressed her hands together, as if in prayer. ‘And to think that George was so heroic! Do you believe in redemption, Miss Bennet?’
Elizabeth pressed her lips together. ‘Not really. Yes, a scoundrel may act nobly once in a while, but I fear the habits of cheating and excess will re-emerge.’
‘You think I am innocent?’
‘I don’t know you well enough to draw any such conclusion. What I do think is that none of us is perfect. After all, you have made one mistake, and I have just admitted to four. Mr Wickham may justifiably lay claim to a far greater number. But at root we are all flawed, and must get on with one another as best we can.’
Georgiana shook her head. ‘William is always honourable.’
Elizabeth smiled. ‘To tease him I sometimes claim he is without flaw, but that is not really true. Why, at the ball where we met, he disdained to dance even though gentlemen were scarce, and told everyone within earshot that my appearance was barely tolerable.’ She put a hand to her mouth. ‘Never tell him I said that!’
‘I cannot believe William would insult a lady in that manner.’
‘You think I made it up?’
Georgiana reddened, but seemed to realise she was being teased, and smiled shyly. ‘You have confused me so much that I don’t know what to think.’
Elizabeth took a final sip of cocoa. ‘Then we had better retire before I reveal more than I should.’
‘Very well, but sometime I want to hear all about your journey. William’s letters were vague on many points.’
‘So you shall.’ Elizabeth rose and stretched. ‘We shall be good friends, and conspire to outwit your brother as often as may be.’
58
They came. Waiting at the window, Elizabeth recognised the carriage she had occupied just over a year ago, on the day she had met Giuseppe and Regina Carandini.
As Mr Gardiner helped down his wife, Elizabeth spotted behind them another woman, familiar blonde curls framed by a familiar bonnet …
She turned to Darcy, who had also heard the carriage. ‘It is Jane!’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Indeed?’
‘You knew!’ She confronted him, hands on hips. ‘My uncle must have told the messenger last night.’
‘It slipped my mind.’
‘What nonsense! You wanted to surprise me. Oh, what does it matter?’ She ran to the door, and stood with arms outstretched as Jane mounted the steps.
‘Lizzy! At last!’ Jane’s normally composed countenance crumpled as she took Elizabeth’s hands and burst into tears. ‘I was afraid I might never see you again.’
The Gardiners came through, and Elizabeth greeted them warmly before leading Jane away in search of a more private place to talk. At the back of the hall Georgiana stood in readiness, and Elizabeth perfor
med the introduction.
‘Miss Bennet, what a pleasure,’ Georgiana said earnestly. ‘Ever since Mr Bingley told me of your engagement, I have been hoping you would come to London so that we could meet.’
Elizabeth was gratified by this confident speech: she had wondered whether Georgiana herself had feelings for Mr Bingley, and might see Jane as a victorious rival.
Jane, still struggling to compose herself, regarded the elegant, unpretentious girl with evident admiration. ‘I also have longed to meet you, having heard from Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy of your many accomplishments. Excuse my agitation.’ She dabbed her eyes. ‘I have not seen Lizzy for a year. I can scarce believe she is really back.’
‘Truly I understand, Miss Bennet; I felt the same when my brother returned yesterday. But you will want to catch up on your news. May I show you to the parlour?’
‘So Jane, you must confess all,’ Elizabeth said. ‘What did Mr Bingley have to say for himself last autumn after his return to Netherfield?’
They had been served coffee in the parlour while the others congregated in the drawing room. Jane, now her usual calm self, took a modest bite from a jam tart. ‘It was after Lydia and her husband visited us, you know, on their way north.’ Jane grimaced—Elizabeth had told her of Wickham’s injury in the battle. ‘Poor Mr Wickham, I do hope he makes a full recovery.’
‘As do we all, dear Jane, but you are digressing.’
‘Oh. Mr Bingley. Well, he said he had recently learned of my presence in London the previous winter, and was distraught not to have known at the time, since otherwise he would have called on me; but he hoped he could make amends now by calling very often, provided of course that such attentions would be welcome …’
‘Did he say who told him you had been in London?’
‘No. Miss Bingley, I imagine.’
‘Hmm.’ Elizabeth decided to keep silent on this point. ‘And why did he tarry so long before returning to Netherfield, loving you as he did?’
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