Miss Darcy's Companion: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Joana Starnes

  “Oh, far from it. Over half, perhaps. I recommended those and a few others I have long aimed to peruse, and then Miss Darcy and I searched the library together for items of interest. It is a remarkable collection.”

  “I thank you. It ought to be. It has been the work of many generations.”

  “Is there a catalogue of its contents?”

  “There is. Pray remind me to show you it after dinner. It might be of assistance in completing your reading list. Although, from what Georgiana told me, you have already selected enough titles to keep you occupied till Christmas.”

  “True,” Miss Bennet smiled. “Besides, she will have plenty of other occupations.”

  “Such as her music practice. I was very impressed with her performance yesterday.”

  “I fear I can take no credit for that,” Miss Bennet candidly owned. “Miss Darcy is very diligent in all her efforts and plays delightfully. If anything, her proficiency and good example served to complete my own education.”

  “Doubtlessly the hours dedicated to the task have been to the advantage of both,” he civilly replied. “Any pursuit of the kind is preferable to idle dissipation.”

  She cast him a brief questioning glance at that, before replying:

  “I hope you would not be severely disappointed to hear we have had times of idle dissipation too. One could not and indeed ought not dedicate every waking hour to study.”

  “Perhaps,” he conceded. “So, might I ask, how did you fill the hours of idle dissipation?”

  “With strolls in the garden, long walks, lengthy conversations…”

  “The topic of them being?”

  “Yourself, in great part,” she candidly retorted. “She speaks of you often, with the greatest affection, and has longed for your return. It would do her a world of good to spend more time in your company.”

  Darcy looked up sharply. Surely she had not just taken him to task as regards his lengthy absence. What would a slip of a girl know about the duties and the time constraints imposed upon one of his station in life?

  Blissfully unaware of his vague displeasure, Miss Bennet resumed:

  “I hope I am not betraying her confidence if I disclose that she also speaks quite often of another matter that gives her a great deal of unease,” she began with some hesitation, and at that Darcy’s thoughts were promptly redirected to what she had to say about his sister.

  “Which matter would that be?” he inquired, but when no reply seemed to be forthcoming his countenance grew solemn as he drew to a halt and spun around to face her. “Miss Bennet, let us be rightly understood,” he enunciated, his diction precise. “No misplaced sense of loyalty should confuse the matter. Your first and foremost allegiance is to me, and nothing that troubles Georgiana could ever be deemed confidential,” he concluded firmly, only to note that her brows rose and her lips thinned at his pronouncement.

  For once the very picture of a remonstrating governess, she evenly replied:

  “Let me assure you I perfectly understand my duties, Sir. But pray allow me to observe that Miss Darcy is fast approaching the age when gentleness and patience go much further than stern edicts. When it comes to delicate matters, it would be preferable to inspire your sister with the confidence that she could safely disclose her own concerns to you. Demanding that I relate them regardless of her wishes would only ensure she henceforth keeps them to herself.”

  To say that Darcy was offended would have been an understatement. He was stunned. In living memory as master of Pemberley he had not been spoken thus. Well, Fitzwilliam had often allowed himself the licence, but that was beside the point. There was a world of difference between what he was prepared to allow from an older cousin – and what from a wisp of a girl in his employ.

  “Upon my word, Miss Bennet, you give your opinions very decidedly for so young a person,” Darcy exclaimed with manifest pique at her presumption to not only censure him, but also direct him in his dealings with his own sister. “Pray, what is your age?”

  The words had barely left his lips when it occurred to Darcy that Fitzwilliam would say this sort of speech befitted Lady Catherine, and not him. Unacquainted as she was with the chatelaine of Rosings, Miss Bennet could not observe the same, but he saw her smarting at the question. Doubtlessly she was neither accustomed nor best pleased to find herself thus interpellated.

  True enough, such a direct inquiry would have been an unthinkable impertinence to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. But someone in her present situation should learn to expect it. He was entirely within his rights to ask. Moreover, he should have done so at their first formal interview, as he had intended, when she was considered for her present position. A great deal more should have been ascertained on that fateful day. Such as the fact that she was decidedly too prone to challenge her betters.

  As though intent to prove that very point, which frankly did not require further proof, Miss Bennet replied coolly, with a touch of resentment:

  “I have turned twenty a few months ago, although I fail to see what bearing this has on the present conversation. You have asked me to voice any concerns I might have regarding Miss Darcy’s welfare. If you have reconsidered and you would much rather I did not, you only need to say so.”

  He frowned, still too riled to acknowledge the justness of the implied reproach. Yet his righteous indignation swiftly paled before the need to learn what was troubling his sister, so he retorted crisply:

  “No, Madam, I have not. If you would be so kind to share that information, I would be exceedingly obliged.”

  She glanced up again at the cold sarcasm of the comment but thankfully for all concerned she forbore from taking up the part of the remonstrating governess and did not censure him again. Instead, she offered quietly:

  “Your sister speaks with great unease about her launch into society. She does not relish the attention, nor the prospect of extensive company. Since there is no avoiding any of the above, she might look upon them with less trepidation if she is given the opportunity to practise. We have kept ourselves to ourselves here, just as you have requested upon our leaving town, but now that she is restored to your protection it might do her good to mix in society more, in preparation for the future. That is all.”

  Silence fell at last, and neither seemed disposed to break it. Whatever Miss Bennet might have thought Darcy could not tell, but for his part he had begun to feel more than a little guilty for his earlier display of temper, and no less for having had to learn from a third party about Georgiana’s fears.

  He should have guessed them. He should have known without being told that she would be plagued by the same foreboding. He had experienced it himself several years ago and, truth be told, it had not fully left him. The proverbial Darcy reluctance to pander to dull crowds must have been passed down in their blood.

  He should have seen that Georgiana’s shyness would make her feel the discomfort even more acutely. But, in his defence, he had not expected the issue to come up so soon. She was so very young! Surely there was plenty of time until they had to consider her entry into society, leaving Pemberley, leaving him…

  Unthinkingly, he voiced his thoughts aloud, in an unconscious attempt at both defence and reassurance, for himself as well as his absent sister.

  “She need not fret. Her coming-out is very distant. She is fifteen, a mere child.”

  To his vast surprise, a small hand was laid comfortingly on his sleeve and he looked up to meet Miss Bennet’s glance, settled upon him with none of the earlier governess-like censure, but with something very much like warm understanding.

  “My father used to say that a man’s heart was more his own when he had no daughters, but the poorer for it. I suppose the same can be said of younger sisters,” she observed softly. He made no reply but a half-smile, and she continued, “Aye, Miss Darcy is full young, but ‘tis not so very long until she is sufficiently grown up to go out into the world, find her place, form an attachment. You should prepare yourself for it, Sir, or
it will break your heart. As it would to discover she is so much in awe of you that she cannot disclose her feelings until there is a suitor on your doorstep, coming to ask for her hand in marriage. I hope you will not take further offence at my forthrightness,” she added as an afterthought and at that, Darcy surprised himself with a rueful chuckle.

  “I will not,” he said at last. “Your father was very wise, Miss Bennet, as are you. Wise beyond your years.”

  “I thank you. ‘Tis kind of you to say so.”

  “Now,” he resumed in a suddenly jocular manner, “within a terribly short time I have discovered you are also kind and cheerful, exceptionally well-read, fiercely independent and exceedingly outspoken. So, before I find myself shocked by further revelations and as a result disgrace myself with another fit of passion, pray tell me, what else are you?”

  She laughed lightly in response, a most becoming sparkle in her eyes.

  “Much as I would like to sum myself up in a satisfactory manner, Sir, I cannot find the words to suit the purpose. I could use other people’s words, but they might be misleading, so I fear you must find another way to settle the hopeless business. All I can say is that thanks to the kindness I have uniformly found at Pemberley I feel myself quite restored to Elizabeth Bennet, with all that it implies. For better or worse. I trust none of us will come to regret it,” she playfully concluded, her manner an admixture of diffidence and archness which Darcy found pleasing and also rather touching.

  Equally touching was her appreciation of the kindness she had been shown at Pemberley. It was good to know that, after everything she had endured, Pemberley was the safe haven that had allowed her to feel at ease again. He ought to foster that, and he intended to.

  Admittedly it was not his way to encourage such freedom of address. While a considerate master, he had uniformly maintained the natural distance between himself and the people in his household, with the sole exception of Mrs Reynolds, who had known him since he was unbreeched. But then they always said that the position of the paid companion, and likewise the governess, was in the marshy middle ground. Above the servants, yet below the family. She was not part of the family of course, but it would do no harm to treat her with kindness. Which was why, at least on this occasion, he saw fit to indulge her with a matching retort:

  “Regret it? Why? Is Miss Elizabeth Bennet such a fearsome creature?”

  “Perhaps not fearsome, but far too outspoken for her own good, as she has been repeatedly reminded. Speaking of which, Sir, I find I rather value my position here. Should my forthrightness become rather too difficult to handle, pray say so before we reach the point of no return.”

  “Be assured I shall. For now though, pray rest easy, I can handle a little forthrightness. I am known to favour the unvarnished truth over obsequious fawning. Though perhaps your truths could be delivered with just a hint of varnishing,” he good-naturedly quipped, and she laughed, but also blushed.

  “This I have also been told. I shall endeavour to apply myself to the task, Sir.”

  “Pray do, Miss Bennet, and we might get along tolerably well,” he smiled, offering his arm.

  She took it, and they returned at a slow pace to the house.

  CHAPTER 6

  The following weeks saw the establishing of patterns, and Darcy easily fell into his own. There was a vast deal at Pemberley that required his attention and long conferences with his steward or riding out to attend to the concerns of the great estate filled most of his morning hours. As for the young ladies, they resumed their occupations, and gradually Darcy was occasioned to learn more about their daily pursuits, and thus about Miss Bennet.

  Apparently she had not only encouraged Georgiana to read extensively and practise her drawing and her music, but also show more interest in the housekeeper’s domain. This was a surprise for Darcy and no less of a pleasure, for such skills would stand her in good stead when she was older. To date, mundane tasks such as choosing menus had been within Mrs Reynolds’ remit, with little or no contribution from his sister, but lately she had begun to ask him about his preferences and confer with the elderly lady as to how they could be met.

  Likewise, at Miss Bennet’s instigation, the young ladies spent many hours not on decorative embroidery, but on sewing tiny garments intended for the poorest children of the parish. Miss Bradden, the new parson’s sister, regularly joined them in that particular activity. Darcy soon learned that although Georgiana and her companion had kept themselves to themselves at Pemberley in his absence and had not entertained acquaintances, nor ventured further than Kympton Church or Lambton, Miss Bradden was an established visitor to the great house. She came to call every Tuesday and Thursday, and the ladies would sit and knit or sew together.

  Miss Bradden was very plain and Darcy found it difficult to tell if she was younger or older than her brother, but she was clearly determined to assist him in his duties. Whether or not she was also determined to assist him in establishing an interest with Miss Bennet was equally hard to tell. For his part, Darcy could not claim to have seen much sign of it, other than the lady often speaking of her brother with a great deal of praise and obvious affection.

  He conceded it was natural that it should be so. He was her protector and provider and her sole surviving relation. Moreover, Darcy had long determined that the man was well worthy of praise. Bradden did not call at Pemberley often and when he did, it was mostly to see him rather than the ladies, and discuss the manifold concerns of the parish. So perhaps he need not worry yet that Georgiana might lose her companion to the Braddens. There seemed to be no imminent likelihood of Miss Bennet becoming Mrs Bradden. Perhaps if matters were allowed to take their course, one day she would, and Darcy eventually acknowledged it might not be such a bad thing after all. Bradden was a very decent man. Miss Bennet could scarcely do much better.

  Nevertheless, it was reassuring to know it would not happen for some time, if ever. Georgiana was not ready to relinquish her and, truth be told, neither was he. Having gone past their rather tempestuous differences of opinion, he found he could not truly fault her. She was a welcome influence on Georgiana in many ways, and an equally welcome addition to the household. Conversation flowed easier at the dinner table, much easier than in the days when Darcy and his sister used to dine alone, when she was conveyed home from Mrs Rossiter’s school on Sundays. Those days it was Fitzwilliam who kept the conversation going whenever he came to call, which was very often if he could be spared from his duties. Now his role was seamlessly fulfilled by Miss Bennet and, Darcy chortled to himself, she could play and sing considerably better too.

  Surprisingly, she was quite as apt as Fitzwilliam to hold her own at the chessboard. Darcy had discovered this by accident one evening, when he had consented to indulge Miss Bennet with a game expecting an easy win, as was the case with Georgiana, only to find himself losing to a very skilled opponent.

  “Pray allow me to guess,” he casually observed as he set the pieces for a rematch. “This is another art you have perfected at your father’s knee.”

  “So it is, Sir,” she smiled back.

  “A remarkable gentleman, your father. I should have liked to make his acquaintance.”

  “I daresay you would have enjoyed each other’s company,” she evenly replied, but said nothing further. Instead, she applied herself to thoroughly slaughtering his army for a second time.

  Since then it had become a habit to have a game or two in the evenings, while Georgiana played on the pianoforte, and afterwards talk about everything and nothing, from their daily pursuits to the progress along the reading list. They discussed the recently read books in great detail, and Darcy could not be anything but pleased with Georgiana’s sensible remarks and Miss Bennet’s keen judgement.

  On a few occasions their debates continued late into the night, long after Georgiana had retired, and it was a novel experience for Darcy to find in her as incisive an observer as Fitzwilliam – or himself. Once or twice he had even found it enterta
ining to argue the opposite and unreasonable point, just to see what her response would be. Predictably, she remained a stranger to the manner of compliant and malleable young women and did not change her stance, but showed herself verily horrified that he would argue such an untenable position. That is, until she understood his game and broke off mid-sentence to lean back and shake her head in mock despair, brows arched and lips pursed in unconcealed amusement.

  As he closeted himself in his study in the mornings or rode away wherever his duties took him, Darcy found that he was looking forward to joining the young ladies in the evenings, and sometimes for a mid-day cup of tea.

  They still saw little of their neighbours, although Darcy had rather grudgingly acknowledged Miss Bennet’s point. It might be to Georgiana’s advantage to become accustomed with moving in society more. But, to begin with, paying the odd morning call or accepting occasional dinner invitations would have to suffice. She was reluctant to do more, and he would not force her.

  Perhaps it would be easier when Lord Vernon returned from his Hampshire estates. His daughters were very close in age to Georgiana and she had enjoyed their company in the past. Or perhaps their cousin Amelia could be asked to come and stay. And of course there would be a vast number of guests expected for Christmas, as there always were.

  For now, they were quiet and content at Pemberley with their peaceable pursuits that drew them to the library or the music room, and often on long walks. Neither of the young ladies ventured abroad unescorted – that old bone of contention had not emerged again. Sometimes Darcy chose to join them in their explorations, other times they walked with one of the footmen or the grooms, and it was only when they undertook to keep to the gardens or stroll around the lake that the escort requirement was waived.

  One day, on their return from their long lakeside amble, they told Darcy that they had come across a most unusual structure in a glade, a little further uphill from the far end of the lake.