Mr. Darcy's Little Sister

by C. Allyn Pierson

  “Heaven forbid!” Georgiana said, smiling wanly through her tears.

  “Now dry your eyes, my dear, and we will see what we can do.”

  She carefully blotted her eyes, and, after sitting quietly for a few minutes with their arms around each other to compose themselves, they each went to their own room to think about the problem.

  Chapter 19

  When you have done all you can in the interest of prudence,

  Leave the rest to the gods and take the plunge.

  —Horace, Odes

  The next morning, Elizabeth came to Georgiana’s room after breakfast.

  “Georgiana, my dear. I have been thinking. I believe that we should talk to Lambert and see what she suggests to catch the colonel’s eye.”

  Georgiana looked dubious. “Do you think she could help?”

  “I am quite sure she can.”

  “Can we trust her to keep a secret?”

  “She is most discreet.”

  They walked down the hall to Elizabeth’s room and found Lambert touching up some of Elizabeth’s dresses with an iron. Elizabeth explained the problem in general terms: that Georgiana was trying to attract the attention of someone she had known for many years and who treats her like a child.

  “How can we convince him that she is an adult?”

  Lambert considered for a moment, tapping her chin with her finger.

  “I would suggest that we try to make a complete change in appearance. Mademoiselle Darcy is very attractive so we do not want to make her less attractive—quelle horreur!—but a style and colour of dress and a hairstyle which are completely different and make her appear older may do ze job. Because, Madame et Mademoiselle, ze gentlemen, they do not respond to subtlety; while Cupid’s little arrows sound lovely and romantic, he would be much more effective with ze truncheon.”

  Elizabeth laughed and Georgiana collapsed onto a chair giggling. When she recovered herself, Georgiana said, “But what would you specifically suggest?”

  Lambert looked at Georgiana and said, “If you would come here, please, Mademoiselle Darcy.”

  Georgiana stood up in front of the maid and Lambert looked her over from head to toe, felt the texture of her hair, and examined the colour of her eyes and the dimensions of her figure.

  “Mademoiselle Darcy, you usually wear ze white or ze cream gowns, oui?”

  Georgiana nodded, fascinated by this evaluation.

  “I would suggest that we try to find ze silk in ze sea-green colour; a light green with ze grey tone. Mademoiselle has beautiful eyes of a changeable colour; they will look more green or blue depending upon what she wears. Let us emphasise ze less common colour. We will also use just ze most subtle touch of rouge, and I have something to darken ze lashes a bit. She also has a beautiful long, white neck which we want to feature. Here is ze gown I would recommend.”

  She took a piece of paper and sketched a detailed gown, with colours marked for the various parts.

  Elizabeth asked, “What about her hair?”

  “You usually wear ze simple style, so I would suggest several tiny braids looped from the front to the back, a cascade of curls at the crown and a few wisps of curl around ze face to bring attention to your smooth, white forehead. To finish it off, three long ringlets to hang over your shoulder. Very enticing!” She kissed the tips of her fingers. “Now, about ze jewellery. I have seen you wear ze pearls with ze tiny cross?” Georgiana nodded. “Zay are very nice, but he has undoubtedly seen them. What else do you have?”

  Georgiana looked at Elizabeth, who immediately said, “Your mother’s diamonds, Georgiana.”

  Lambert was pleased. “Ze diamonds will be ze perfect finish. What could be more elegant and sophisticated? When are we to make this transformation, Madame?”

  “Do you think we could have the dress finished by this weekend? The Elliots are giving a very large ball and I think all the single men in London have been invited.”

  “Oui, I will send for the seamstress and we will start immediately.”

  She bustled off to begin preparations and Georgiana tried to stifle another nervous giggle with her fingertips.

  “Do you really think it will work, Elizabeth?” she whispered.

  Elizabeth put her arms around her. “I think that we have nothing to lose. I think it will take an earthquake to bring the colonel out of his complacence, and I, for one, am willing to do my best to bring about that earthquake, if that is what you want.”

  Georgiana’s faced turned grim. “I will do my part, too, if it kills me.”

  ***

  The next five days flew by. They continued to have engagements every night and although Georgiana tried to be sparkling and friendly to her cousin, she did not see any signs of awareness of her existence by him beyond the indulgent notice he had always given her. She was becoming increasingly frustrated with him and complained (with a petulance that was very unusual for her) to Elizabeth when they were alone.

  “The colonel is oblivious to me. How can men be so unaware of what is going on around them? I wonder if I must knock him over or do other violence to him before he notices that I am alive.”

  Elizabeth laughed a little. “You must forgive him, my dear sister, for men do not like change any more than the rest of us and ignore it for as long as possible.”

  “He has been paying a lot of attention to Justina Dalrymple lately; he has danced with her more than once at several of the balls. You don’t suppose that he is considering making her an offer, do you?” she said with a frown.

  “I certainly hope not; I have seen her speak rather sharply to her mother a couple of times in public—I would not be easy about his chances of happiness with her, even were there no other considerations. However, I agree that he is spending far too much time with her, but tomorrow night is the Elliots’ ball and you are ready to make your ‘appearance’ there.”

  Georgiana put her hand to her throat nervously, but she nodded in agreement. That night, she wrote,

  23 May: All of the plans have been made and my costume prepared for the ball tomorrow night. I have been distracting myself and trying to calm my nerves with Horace, figuring that reading ancient works would be either boring or soothing enough to help me sleep. I came upon a line in his “Odes” which I found quite apt: “When you have done all you can in the interest of prudence, leave the rest to the gods and take the plunge.” That is strong: permitte divis cetera.

  ***

  The next evening, the ladies went upstairs earlier than usual to prepare for the ball. Elizabeth hurried through her toilette with Lambert, quickly donning her cream silk dress with the green sash and her Chinese jewellery and then they went to Georgiana’s room where Durand had all of the clothing ready. Georgiana had continued wearing white and cream-coloured dresses while the new gown was being sewn, so the new gown would be a splash of colour to contrast vividly with the others, as well as being the last word in decorous sophistication.

  Lambert swept up Georgiana’s light brown hair into three shining braids on either side of her head and into a confection of curls on her crown, emphasising her height, and the three ringlets hung tantalizingly over her left shoulder. Durand then helped her into her stays, tightening them to enhance her bust line. Next, Lambert and Durand helped her into white silk stockings and a white cotton batiste petticoat that ended just above her ankles. The gown was next, a sea-foam green satin bodice and skirt, which was reflected in the colour of her eyes. The skirt of the gown was split from the waist to the hem to show an underskirt of finely pleated white silk that swept almost to the floor, peeping out below the green skirt. At the shoulder began the barest suggestion of a puffed sleeve, in green satin to match the bodice, and the low, scooped neckline was enhanced with a sweep of stiff, finely pleated white silk that stood up from the front of the shoulders and around the back, gently cupping the back of her long
, slender neck and framing her face.

  Durand helped her mistress don her white satin dancing slippers and then Elizabeth stepped in. She brought out the jeweller’s case she had been holding and opened it. She fastened the diamonds that had belonged to Lady Anne, obtained from the bank that afternoon, around Georgiana’s neck and the eardrops onto her earlobes. She stepped back, and she and the two maids examined their charge. The diamonds sparkled in the candlelight, the central pendant just reaching the top of her décolleté, and the dress picked up the colour of her eyes beautifully. After a moment of intense consideration as they walked around Georgiana, looking at all sides of her costume, Lambert smiled and nodded, and Elizabeth said, “Yes, you are ready, Georgiana.”

  Georgiana examined herself in the glass and smiled slowly at Elizabeth.

  “Yes, my dear sister, I believe I am.”

  They covered her gown with a white satin cloak, careful not to crush the pleats around the neckline of her dress. By the time Darcy had appeared from the drawing-room Elizabeth had her cloak on as well, and they left as soon as Kitty appeared a moment later. Darcy commented in the carriage that the ladies looked very well. Georgiana and Elizabeth smiled at each other and at Kitty as they thanked him.

  When they arrived at the ball, which was given in a large ballroom at the rear of their host’s home, Elizabeth took Georgiana and Kitty to a dressing-room to make sure that their costumes were perfect before they went into the ballroom. Darcy had gone ahead and was standing with Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lord St. George. They all three turned when the ladies entered, and both Georgiana’s cousins and her brother stared for a moment in surprise at Georgiana. She wanted to laugh at the astonishment on their faces. The viscount recovered first and stepped forward to take Georgiana’s hand, bowing over it and saying, “My dear cousin Georgiana, how lovely you look tonight! I hope you will give me the pleasure of your hand for the first dances.”

  “Of course, Cousin,” she answered gravely.

  The colonel watched them as his brother led her to the dance floor and joined the lines facing each other then walked over to Justina Dalrymple and asked her to dance. Darcy looked quizzically at Elizabeth and she said brightly, “Doesn’t Georgiana look well tonight, Mr. Darcy?”

  “She does indeed,” he answered, turning his gaze to follow his sister speculatively as she danced. “She looks like a queen. Is there some reason for this dramatic change in hair style and ornamentation?”

  “We are merely increasing the stakes in the matrimonial game—sometimes men need to be hit over the head before they notice the obvious.”

  He looked at her in perplexity. “And who might she be trying to ‘hit over the head’ tonight?” he asked as he watched Georgiana dance, her eyes glancing over at Colonel Fitzwilliam several times. He looked at the colonel, who was watching Georgiana rather to the neglect of his own partner, who looked piqued. Before Elizabeth could form an answer which would not give away Georgiana’s confidences, Darcy’s face took on a look of surprised awareness, “Surely not Fitzwilliam?”

  Elizabeth smiled briefly. “Would you have any objections if it were the colonel?”

  “None at all; my cousin is a fine man. I am just—surprised—I did not expect it. The last I heard she was sniping at him. How long has this been going on?”

  Elizabeth temporised, since Georgiana had not yet given her permission to tell Darcy. “Georgiana finds it very frustrating that he treats her like a child. She is not a child any more.”

  “No, much as I hate to admit it, she is definitely no longer a child,” he replied, lifting one brow at Elizabeth’s avoidance of his question. She watched the dancers and pretended not to see.

  They watched as the pair of dances ended and a crowd of young men surrounded Georgiana. The colonel observed them from across the room until his cousin accepted a partner then approached an unattached young lady and obtained her hand for the next dances. After they finished, Georgiana was again besieged by several young men, and Colonel Fitzwilliam joined Darcy at the side of the room. While Elizabeth was talking to Jane, who had arrived not long before, she overheard the colonel comment to Darcy,

  “I hope that all these young bucks don’t overwhelm Georgiana, Darcy. Perhaps I should rescue her from them.”

  Elizabeth, watching them from the corner of her eye, was surprised when Darcy looked his cousin in the eye, his face expressionless, and said very quietly, “Oh, I don’t think she needs to be rescued any more. She’s not a child, Fitzwilliam.” The colonel stared at him for a long, frozen moment, his brows raised in surprise and then he looked back towards Georgiana.

  “I believe you may be right, Darcy,” he said slowly, “but I think I will ask her to dance anyway.”

  Without another word he walked towards his cousin as she stood with a couple of other girls in the cluster of admirers. Lord St. George appeared on the opposite side of the group but, before he could catch Georgiana’s eye, Colonel Fitzwilliam neatly manoeuvred himself between the others, as he had done at the Pemberley ball, and took Georgiana’s hand, cutting off one of the young men before he could finish his awkward attempt at asking her to dance. Georgiana nodded to her cousin and took his arm, her eyes downcast as he led her to the floor, acutely aware of the warmth and strength of his arm through her gloves. As she rose from her first curtsey to start the figure she brought her eyes up to meet his, and she saw him stiffen. He covered his discomposure quickly and began the dance, but he appeared rather bemused as he danced the figures, his neck flushing slightly each time the dance returned him to his partner. Georgiana, for her part, kept her eyes modestly downcast as she moved down the line but raised them to meet his briefly each time they faced each other, the challenge in hers offering a counterpoint to the small, serene smile on her lips.

  When they finished their dances, the colonel led Georgiana back to her friends and made his way to the refreshment table, where he slowly drank a cup of punch while he watched his cousin dance the next dances.

  Later in the evening, Viscount St. George again asked for her hand for a pair of dances, and Georgiana accepted him, but she was distracted during the dance because the colonel was watching them with a serious intensity that was quite uncharacteristic. She hoped that he would ask her to dance again, but he kept his distance, maintaining his observation post and ignoring the other young women.

  Georgiana was exhausted as they rode home from the ball and she noticed that Elizabeth looked very tired also. They both had entertained such intense hopes for the evening and she did not know quite what to think of the results.

  ***

  When they arrived home, Georgiana and Kitty went immediately upstairs, but Darcy held Elizabeth back and gestured towards the drawing-room, closing the door behind them after they entered.

  “Did you know that Georgiana was interested in the colonel before tonight?”

  Elizabeth paused but could see no way to avoid the direct question, “Yes, I have known for a few days.”

  “Why did you not tell me?”

  “Georgiana told me in confidence and asked me not to tell you, so I felt I could not betray her trust.”

  “Why did she not want me to know? I could have spoken to Fitzwilliam…” His brows knitted in irritation.

  Elizabeth glared at him. “That is exactly what she does not want!”

  “I don’t understand; why would my sister not want me to know her feelings when it concerns her entire future?” he exclaimed, his voice momentarily rising before he forced it back down to a whisper.

  “She is in love with him and wants him to marry her because he loves her, not because he feels a family obligation,” she said crisply. “If you talk to him about her feelings for him, it is tantamount to asking him to marry her. He probably will agree because he feels a responsibility towards her and the match is very eligible for the both of them as far as fortune and background. She, however, d
oes not want to spend the rest of her life with a guardian; she wants to spend it with a husband—and it is entirely your fault that she feels that way!” She stopped, shocked at her own vehemence.

  “My fault! What do you mean?” he asked with asperity.

  “Your sister, my dear husband, wants a marriage with the love, affection, and, I hope, trust,” she said dryly, “between husband and wife that you have achieved.” Then she added hurriedly, with a slight blush, “…albeit through months of agony and uncertainty beforehand, of which she has probably only the slightest comprehension.”

  They stared at each other.

  “I am sorry, my love,” Darcy said finally and slumped down onto the sofa, rubbing his brow. “I am being a mutton-headed dolt. I, of all people, cannot blame Georgiana for not wanting a neat and polite marriage arranged by family members when she could have a ‘marriage of true minds’ as her brother and sister have.” He finally smiled at her and took her hand and she felt a rush of relief that he was not annoyed because she had not shared Georgiana’s confessions with him earlier.

  She returned, quietly, “Comprends-tu la situation maintenant, mon amour?”

  “Oui, je la comprends parfaitement. Mais, mon Dieu, quel problème!”

  “Oui, c’est vrai.”

  They slowly mounted the stairs, both musing over what she had told him. As Elizabeth turned to go to her room, Darcy stopped her again and whispered, “Is there nothing we can do to help this situation?”

  “I think that we have done everything we can do; it is up to Georgiana now,” she said, her confidence returning.

  He nodded in reluctant agreement then turned to his dressing-room, shaking his head as he went.