He smothered a laugh as Jane said “Lydia!” in shocked tones.
“That is quite all right, Miss Bennet, I assure you I take no offence. Quite the opposite, Miss Lydia pays me a high compliment. Only my mother ever calls me handsome, in uniform or out of it!”
“Oh, I am sure that is not true, sir, you are fishing for compliments now,” Jane said with a small smile, studying him. It was true that he was not classically handsome, not in the way that his cousin Mr Darcy was, but certainly he was not an ugly man. He had sandy-fair hair, plainly cut, and a face which was not quite symmetrical, a longish nose and strong chin… but the features about his face which were not handsome were more than offset by his genuine smile and the twinkle in his blue eyes.
“Darcy will tell you that fishing was never my forte, I lack the patience for it,” Fitzwilliam said with a grin, trying to make her smile. Making Miss Bennet smile properly, a true smile which brightened those cornflower-blue eyes, had suddenly become very important.
A small bell tinkled, and he took advantage of the opportunity to say “Might I escort you in to dinner, Miss Bennet?”
“Why, thank you.” She rose and placed her hand on his proffered arm; he didn’t even care that Lydia promptly latched onto the other. Why the hell hadn’t Darcy mentioned the beautiful Bennet daughters before? Fitzwilliam couldn’t believe that Charles Bingley hadn’t said a word about them either, Bingley always had an eye for a pretty girl, but he’d seen Bingley at White’s just a couple of days ago and he hadn’t said a word. In fact he’d seem quite broken, heartsick almost…
Oh.
Damn it all, Darcy, what have you done?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Georgiana woke up while Elizabeth and Jane were buttoning her into Lizzy’s warmest woollen nightgown; she blinked up at them uncertainly before asking;
“Where am I?”
“My home, Miss Darcy, Longbourn House. This is my sister Jane,” Elizabeth said in soothing tones. “Do you remember coming here with us? You fainted just after we arrived.”
Georgiana nodded slowly, looking at Jane, who smiled softly at her as she drew the covers up around Georgiana.
“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Jane,” she said politely.
“It’s Miss Bennet,” Elizabeth corrected, but Jane interrupted her.
“Please call me Jane.”
“You’ve very kind… I am Georgiana.” She hesitated, looking at the two young women moving gracefully around the chamber, Elizabeth going to stoke the fire while Jane picked up the discarded wet clothes from the floor. “But… I have always wished for a female friend who would call me Georgie.”
“We should be delighted to call you Georgie,” Elizabeth said immediately, her tender heart touched by the obvious need of the girl for friends her own age. “And you must call me Lizzy. Jane does not shorten, I am afraid, so we just call her Jane.”
Georgiana gave a weak little smile at that. She did not seem inclined to speak, just lay back against the pillows.
“Are you hungry, Georgiana?” Jane asked gently.
“No. Thirsty, a little.”
“I have water here for you. Do you think you could perhaps manage some soup? You must keep your strength up.” Jane coaxed a few sips of water between Georgiana’s lips, but the girl declined the offer of soup.
“I just want to sleep,” she whispered, her voice ragged. “And then George… I want to be with George.” Her blue eyes closed, long lashes drifting down onto cheeks still childishly rounded with puppy fat, and she slept.
“And who might George be?” Jane asked after a moment of silence.
“Oh, Jane.” Elizabeth shook her head with a sigh. “I do not know what to think.” Taking Jane’s arm, she drew her to the far corner of the room, as far away from the sleeping girl as they could get while keeping her in sight. “The George she speaks of is Mr Wickham!”
Jane’s mouth fell open, and stayed that way as Elizabeth quickly summarised what she knew. That Georgiana had apparently run away from home in an attempt to join Mr Wickham, to whom she claimed to be engaged, and that Darcy and Fitzwilliam had apparently left London in all haste as soon as they discovered her absence.
“She took the post? Alone? But… did not I hear Mr Darcy once say that she is but fifteen?” Jane could hardly believe her ears. “Why, something quite terrible might have happened to such a gently-bred young lady, alone like that!”
“Any number of terrible things could have happened to her, not least that she might actually have managed to get to Wickham,” Elizabeth said grimly. “Jane… I am beginning to suspect all is not quite as it seems, regarding that gentleman.”
“Certainly he never mentioned anything about being betrothed to Miss Darcy!” Jane agreed.
“Quite the contrary; he has never mentioned the Darcy name save to blacken it, and Mrs Forster revealed this evening that he today became betrothed to Mary King.”
“Oh my goodness.” Jane’s hand went to her mouth. “Lizzy, something is not right.”
“I know.” Elizabeth cast a glance back at Georgiana. “I have promised to stay with Miss Darcy - Georgiana - and watch over her. Will you go down to dinner and hear what is said, hear if Mr Darcy speaks of Wickham at all? Perhaps ask his cousin the Colonel, who seems to be a most amiable gentleman.”
“Whatever I can do, Lizzy,” Jane pledged. “I shall come back up directly after we dine and let you know if I learn anything. Shall I ask Hill to bring you up a tray?”
“Yes please, I am famished,” Elizabeth agreed, privately thinking that it was unlikely that Darcy or his cousin would let anything slip over dinner, but one never knew. At least Jane would be listening out for information on Wickham now, and might perhaps pick up on things she could otherwise have missed.
“She looks very young,” Jane said quietly, looking at the sleeping Georgiana, “for all she is well-grown.”
“Far too young to be wed to anyone,” Elizabeth pointed out. “I doubt she has any more idea than Lydia of what being an officer’s wife would truly entail.”
Jane’s lips tightened, and she nodded. “I will be back soon, Lizzy.” Impulsively she dealt out a hug to her younger sister, frowned as she felt Elizabeth’s clothing. “And you had best get changed yourself; your own things are damp! Put on a gown and robe and sit by the fire.”
Smiling at Jane’s motherly concern, Elizabeth promised to obey her directives. Once her sister had departed, she moved quietly about the room, hanging up her damp dress near the fireplace to dry out, putting on a woollen nightgown, her robe, and some lambswool-lined slippers. Sitting down by the fire, she took her hair down and began to comb out the long, damp curls, wincing as she occasionally caught on a snarl, her mind busy as she thought back over what she had learned in the last few hours and tried to make sense of it all.
A scratch at the door alerted her to Mrs Hill’s arrival with a tray.
“Here you are, miss,” the housekeeper whispered, setting the tray down on her writing-desk. “Miss Bennet said the young lady was sleeping.” She peered across the darkened chamber towards the bed. “Is it true she’s Mr Darcy’s sister?”
“It is. Unfortunately she took a terrible soaking this afternoon. We met them quite by chance in Hatfield and Mama begged them to accept our hospitality,” Elizabeth said, thinking that sounded like a version of the story that had a reasonable chance of being accepted as the truth. Mrs Hill certainly seemed to accept it, nodding and clucking her tongue.
“Poor wee lass. Will she take a little hot broth, do you think?”
“I will ask her again if she wakes, but I think a good night’s sleep in a warm bed will be the best treatment for her right now, Mrs Hill, thank you.”
“Very wise, miss,” Hill nodded approvingly. “Well, I shall tell Cook to leave a pot to stay warm on the stove when she damps it down for the night, just in case she wakes hungry. You sit down and eat your dinner while it’s hot now, Miss Lizzy.”
Elizabeth once again promis
ed that she would do so, smiling at Mrs Hill’s bossy fondness. The housekeeper didn’t even leave until she had seated herself and spooned some soup into her mouth.
She had just finished her dinner and was sitting beside the fire again, eyelids drooping with weariness, when she heard her name whispered.
“Lizzy!”
Thinking that Jane must have returned and opened the door without her hearing, Elizabeth looked in that direction, but the door was still firmly closed. She frowned in puzzlement.
“Lizzy!”
It was Georgiana! Startled, Elizabeth stood and hurried to her side. Georgiana had pushed herself upright, swung her legs over the edge of the bed and seemed to be trying to stand.
“Lie down, Miss Darcy - Georgie. Please, you must stay in bed.” As she touched Georgiana’s hand to try and persuade her back into bed, she felt to her horror the extreme heat of it. Quickly, she placed a hand to the younger girl’s brow. It was burning with fever.
“Lizzy, you have to help me,” Georgiana whispered, her voice hoarse and rasping. “Please. Will - he hates George, he won’t let us be together, but I love him so - please, you must help me go to him.”
“Georgiana, you are not well,” Elizabeth tried to keep her voice firm and steady, hoping the younger girl would respond positively to a confident attitude. “You must lie down and rest. You have a fever.”
“I have to get to George…”
“Tomorrow,” Elizabeth lied, hoping desperately that such a promise would make Georgiana settle down, though she had no intention of keeping it in the current circumstances. With any luck, Georgiana would not even remember the conversation in the morning. “It is far too late tonight and raining dreadfully besides, listen, can you not hear the rain drumming on the roof tiles? Tomorrow I will help you find your betrothed.”
“You promise?” Georgiana begged.
Elizabeth winced, put her fingers behind her back and crossed them. “Of course. Here, take a sip of water and lie down again - are you hungry?”
Georgiana shook her head, pushed away the water. She did lie down though, for which Elizabeth gave silent thanks. She gave a little shiver and clutched the blankets around her.
“I’m cold,” it was a hoarse whisper.
Blessedly, the door opened at that moment and Jane slipped in. Elizabeth cast her a panicked glance and Jane hurried to her side instantly.
“She is fevered,” Elizabeth whispered. “Help me…”
Between the two of them they managed to settle Georgiana down again, and the girl fell into a shallow, restless sleep.
“Will you fetch Mama, Jane?” Elizabeth asked. “I am not quite sure what to do…”
“She is in Papa’s study with Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Jane replied softly. “They spoke of nothing in particular at dinner, I’m afraid, but afterwards Papa invited them to his study and Mama went with them and closed the door.”
How Elizabeth wished she might listen in to that conversation! Her concern at that moment must be for Georgiana, though, so she chewed on her lip as she considered what to do.
“Shall I fetch Mrs Hill?” Jane suggested tentatively. “She helped Mama nurse us through innumerable fevers, after all.”
“Excellent idea!” Elizabeth agreed, and soon the redoubtable housekeeper was there, helping them rouse Georgiana enough to drink a little willowbark and oregano tea, Hill’s sovereign remedy for fevers.
“Should we send for the doctor?” Jane whispered as Georgiana muttered feverishly, trying to bat their hands away from her.
“You’ll not get Mr Jones out here tonight,” Hill said. “He was up all last night delivering Mrs Langley’s baby, I heard him say when he stopped by this morning to check on Miss Kitty, and he had several calls to make after that.”
“We shall send for him first thing in the morning,” Elizabeth decided. “I can take care of her for tonight.”
“We will take care of Miss Darcy,” Jane said firmly, and Elizabeth smiled at her.
“You are such good, thoughtful girls,” Mrs Hill said fondly. “I shall send William to Meryton at first light to fetch Mr Jones for the young lady.”
Once Mrs Hill had gone, leaving Jane and Elizabeth alone with Georgiana, the two girls looked at each other.
“We should take it in turns to sleep, and watch over her,” Jane said. “You’re dressed for bed; why don’t you go and sleep in my room for a while? I’ll come and get you in a few hours.”
Elizabeth was prepared to argue, but she was also tired. “All right,” she conceded, “but wake me up at midnight, no later.” She refused to leave until Jane, with a roll of her eyes, had solemnly promised.
“And wake me sooner if Georgiana is distressed!” Elizabeth hissed before closing the door quietly behind her. She only had to cross the landing to reach Jane’s room; the sound of voices at the foot of the stairs had her pausing mid-step.
“I’ll have John bring your horse around at first light, Colonel,” her father’s voice said. She could hear dry amusement in his tone; whatever they had talked about in the study, Mr Bennet was highly entertained.
“Thank you again, Mr Bennet, for your generosity,” the colonel replied smoothly. “We’ll retire now and hopefully not trespass upon your hospitality longer than we must.”
“Oh, my dear sir,” Mr Bennet said genially, “trespass as long as you wish, I pray you. I have not been so intrigued this age.”
There was a brief silence before the colonel said “Yes. Well, good night, sir.”
“Good night,” a slightly deeper voice said, and a curious little shiver went up Elizabeth’s spine at the sound of Mr Darcy’s voice. As heavy feet began to mount the wooden stairs, she quickly opened the door to Jane’s room and slipped inside, not quite closing it so that she might listen at the crack.
CHAPTER NINE
Darcy wasn’t sure how he managed to get through dinner. The food was well-prepared, if plain; he had actually been slightly caught off guard by the quality of the meal, especially considering the late notice the cook must have had for preparation. Longbourn in and of itself was rather more impressive than he had expected, too; larger and more handsome. Caroline Bingley’s prejudice must have rubbed off on him, he acknowledged to himself a little sheepishly, because he had been under the erroneous assumption that Longbourn and the Bennets were of rather less consequence than this.
It was the conversation which grated; obviously they could not speak of Georgiana’s predicament in front of Miss Bennet and Miss Lydia. The last was particularly unthinkable as the silly chit prattled on about whatever came into her head to poor Fitzwilliam, who had the misfortune to be seated beside her. Fitzwilliam spent too much of the meal staring across the table at Miss Bennet, too; Darcy would have to warn him off. She was even more unsuitable a match for Fitzwilliam than she was for Bingley. At least Bingley had his own money.
At last, the interminable meal was over. Mr Bennet set down his napkin, rose to his feet. “If you would, Mr Darcy, Colonel; my study?”
Darcy rose with alacrity and followed Mr Bennet from the room. He could hear Fitzwilliam behind him, gallantly excusing himself, but Darcy had no patience for pleasantries just now. The only thing he wanted was to take Georgiana back to London, after he ensured somehow that Wickham would never cast his repugnant shadow upon their lives again.
The study turned out to be completely lined with books, piled even upon the chairs; Mr Bennet muttered to himself as he shifted several teetering piles to clear some seats for them. Looking around, Darcy could not help but recall that day when he had come across Elizabeth reading in Netherfield’s library. Growing up with a resource such as this at her disposal, she had certainly had the chance to improve her mind with extensive reading.
A small smile touched his lips at the thought, banished quickly as Mr Bennet finished his self-appointed task of clearing seats and took one behind his desk. The door closing behind him made Darcy look around; he was only slightly surprised to see Mrs Benn
et had also joined them.
“Now, gentlemen,” Mr Bennet’s voice snapped Darcy’s head around again. “Please take pity on an old man and explain, in simple terms that I can understand, just what in the name of God has transpired to cause you to land you upon my doorstep with such dramatics?”
Taking a seat once Mrs Bennet had chosen one, Darcy looked wryly at the pile of books on the table beside him. “I suspect that a gentleman who reads Plato and Aristotle in the original Greek does not require simple terms, sir.”
Mr Bennet gave him a razor-sharp smile. “The classics hold few mysteries for me, Mr Darcy. The machinations of English high society, however, are a puzzle I have little wish to decipher. I leave all that nonsense to my wife.”
“We all have our areas of expertise,” Mrs Bennet said primly. “I believe that raising five girls of my own makes me uniquely qualified to advise you as regards your sister, Mr Darcy.”
He opened his mouth to sharply refute that statement, but it remained hanging open. Because no matter how silly the younger Bennet daughters appeared, the older two were ladies who could only be called admirable, despite their lack of marriage prospects. Nor had any of the Bennet daughters, so far as he knew, attempted to run off with a reprobate almost twice their own age.
“We are deeply grateful to you for your kindness to Georgiana today, Mrs Bennet.” Fitzwilliam admirably filled the silence when Darcy could not make a word come out. “I hate to think what might have happened had you not taken her up.”
“I should hope that I would do the same for any gently-bred young lady I discovered in such a situation, even if she were not related to an acquaintance,” Mrs Bennet said with a little nod. “Christian charity would allow for no less.”
“Please,” Mr Bennet cut in, “what situation is this, my dear?”
Darcy and Fitzwilliam were quite content to listen as Mrs Bennet detailed - in perhaps a little too much detail for Darcy’s patience - the exact circumstances in which she had discovered Georgiana in Hatfield.
A Christmas Miracle At Longbourn (The Darcy And Lizzy Miracles Book 1) Page 5
