“You have spent far too much time cooped up in here with me,” Georgiana paused to cough. “I insist that you must go and take the meal with your aunt and uncle, I am so looking forward to getting better so that I can meet them and your little cousins for myself!”
“They are eager to meet you too, dear one.” Elizabeth smiled fondly at her.
“It is settled then,” Georgiana said, and in the next breath demanded “What shall you wear?”
Miss Darcy had quite an interest in fashion, it transpired, and decided opinions. She dismissed most of the gowns Elizabeth and Jane presented for her inspection, finally nodding her approval of a new blue gown with a lace collar and cuffs Mrs Bennet had bought Jane in hopes of cheering her spirits and a pretty yellow gown Elizabeth had lately finished making over with a blue sash and embroidered blue flowers at the hem and cuffs.
“Yellow is a good colour for you, Lizzy,” Georgiana declared. “I cannot wear it at all, I look positively sallow. Blondes should avoid yellow wherever possible, and orange too. I cannot imagine why orange is Miss Bingley’s favourite colour, it makes her skin look almost green.”
Kitty burst into a fit of the giggles at Georgiana’s cheeky remark. Elizabeth did not bother to suppress her laughter, and even Jane pressed her fingers to her lips.
“That is a little unkind, Georgie,” Jane reproached.
“Perhaps it is, but so was Miss Bingley when she spoke of the country bumpkin she had to detach her brother from after their recent episode of rustication in the country,” Georgiana said gently.
Jane’s hand flew to her mouth. Elizabeth at once threw her arms around her older sister. “I knew it,” she said fiercely, “I knew she was never your friend, for all her false smiles.”
“Miss Bingley is very poor at actually being a real friend even when she makes a genuine effort, you are not missing out on much,” Georgiana said dryly before succumbing to another coughing fit. Kitty picked up her tea and held the cup while Georgiana steadied herself to take a sip.
The sound of hooves clattering to a halt outside the window had them all looking at each other, wondering who could be arriving so late in the afternoon. So close to Christmas, it was dark by four o’clock, and they did not expect any more visitors today; the doctor had been by earlier and pronounced Georgiana to be on the mend, if slowly.
Going to the window Elizabeth twitched the curtain aside, peered down to see if she could see who had arrived. The chestnut gelding John was leading around to the side of the house looked quite familiar. Suppressing her delight, she turned back around.
“I am not at all sure who that can be. Come, Jane, we must get ready. Put your gown on and let me arrange your hair nicely.”
“Do not fuss, Lizzy,” Jane tried to brush her off, but Elizabeth persisted and in the end had her way. Jane insisted on doing Elizabeth’s hair in return, which delayed their transition downstairs by a few minutes.
“You both look beautiful,” Georgiana said mistily. “Don’t they, Kitty?”
“Like princesses, or at least duchesses,” Kitty said with great ignorance but boundless loyalty. Georgiana, who had met both princesses and duchesses, smiled.
“I couldn’t agree more. I am sure my brother will be quite struck dumb.”
“How should we know the difference, with how rarely he speaks?” Kitty said, making Georgiana giggle.
“Oh, Will has been quite voluble of late. At least whenever I have seen him in Elizabeth’s company, anyway.”
Those blue eyes saw a little too much, Elizabeth thought. Putting another log on the fire, she poked it up to a healthy blaze.
“Do not talk too much, you two. And Kitty, if Georgiana takes a turn for the worse, promise you will ring the bell? I am counting on you.”
Kitty drew herself up, her expression full of pride as Elizabeth expressed her trust. “Of course I will. Georgie and I will just sit here and drink our tea and look at these fashion plates and maybe draw one or two dresses…”
Elizabeth chuckled as Kitty pulled her chair a little closer to the bed and laid her sketchbook down on it. “Very well, dear one, but if you get charcoal on my pillow you will not soon be forgiven!”
Kitty and Georgiana’s giggles followed them as Jane and Elizabeth left the room and proceeded downstairs. They could hear a great deal of chatter in the parlour, looked at each other curiously.
“Whatever can be causing such a commotion?” Jane wondered aloud.
Elizabeth had a fairly good idea, but she shrugged as though she did not, urged Jane to precede her into the room. She rather suspected that Jane might need a steadying presence at her back.
“Jane!” Mrs Bennet cried as soon as the door opened, “oh Jane, the most wonderful thing has happened!”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
For Jane, the world narrowed to pair of beseeching blue eyes and a shock of tousled reddish hair, as Charles Bingley turned from speaking with Darcy by the window and took several quick strides towards her. She tried to step back instinctively, found Elizabeth’s firm hand at the small of her back holding her in place.
“Jane,” Charles breathed, gazing at her reverently, utterly careless of the presence of their audience.
“I believe that the two of you might need a few moments to speak,” Mr Bennet, for once both present and fully aware of the undercurrents in the situation, declared. “Come to my study, if you please.”
Jane could hardly stand, certainly could not drag her eyes from Bingley’s face as he extended his arm for her to take, his expression hopeful. Elizabeth moved out of their way and smiled at her father as he passed, giving her a nod.
“Dear Jane, oh my dear Jane, she will be so happy!” Mrs Bennet declared even before the study door had closed. “Oh, my dear brother! My dear sister!”
Mr and Mrs Gardiner attended to her at once; Mary was sitting in the corner with a book in her lap, Elizabeth saw with an assessing glance around the room, Lydia pouting in the seat beside Mrs Bennet.
Crossing the room to where Mr Darcy stood beside the window, she said quietly “Thank you.”
He shook his head. “Do not thank me, Miss Elizabeth; were it not for my unwarranted interference Bingley would have proposed to your sister weeks ago. I almost thought he might hit me when he arrived, in truth. I dread to think what words were exchanged between Bingley and his sisters before he left London. I have never seen him angry before.”
“Only imagine if you discovered that someone you trusted had sought to separate you from someone you loved,” Elizabeth suggested. “I am sure your anger would be quite fearsome to behold!”
“Anyone who dared try to separate me from the object of my affection would be lucky to survive such efforts,” Darcy declared, his eyes boring into Elizabeth. “Only the lady herself could discourage my attentions.”
A slow blush rose up Elizabeth’s cheeks at his words, their meaning very clear. She could not seem to break her gaze from his, dark and intense as he stared into her eyes. Neither of them said a word until the sound of the door opening once again broke the spell, making them both look around.
Mr Bennet preceded Jane and Bingley back into the room, Jane’s cheeks flushed a becoming pink, her eyes sparkling like stars. Her hand clasped tightly in Bingley’s was all the affirmation Elizabeth needed; with a glad cry she rushed across the room to embrace her sister.
“Oh, Lizzy!” Jane gasped, hugging her tightly. “Oh, was anyone ever as happy as I? If only there could be another such man for you!”
Elizabeth sneaked a glance at Darcy, pumping Bingley’s hand and expressing his pleasure at the happy news. “Do not worry about me, dearest Jane. Nobody deserves happiness more than you.”
“I am sure that I do not deserve such joy!”
Mrs Bennet descended then with great shrieks of gladness, and Jane suffered herself to be petted and made much over. Even Lydia, still pouting over Wickham’s disappearance, unbent enough to congratulate Jane.
“Well, that is rather a
relief,” Mr Bennet murmured to Elizabeth as they watched the happy scene. “Especially since it seems that young man may have a backbone after all. He was positively furious when he first arrived; I almost thought he and Darcy might come to blows in the hallway.”
“He and Jane will be very happy together, I am sure,” Elizabeth declared.
“Oh, indeed; they are both of such an easy-going nature. Nobody will think ill of either of them, but their servants will certainly cheat them blind.”
“Papa!” Laughing, she nudged him in the ribs. He put his arm around her and hugged her close, rather to her surprise; though she knew she was his favourite, Thomas Bennet was not a demonstrative man by nature. “What is it, Papa?”
“Just an old man’s foolishness. I always knew my beautiful daughters would be claimed some day by men who captured their hearts, but now the day has finally arrived, I find I am not so sanguine about the idea as I had hoped to be.”
“Oh, Papa,” smiling, she kissed his whiskery cheek. “We will all miss Jane, but we still have each other.”
“For now,” her father said, giving her a sly sideways look. “For now.”
She could not possibly mistake the way that he looked away from her and straight across the room at Mr Darcy. Feeling the blush rising up her cheeks again, Elizabeth hastily excused herself. What had Mr Darcy said to her father?
In the hallway, she found Mrs Hill wringing her hands. It was already twenty minutes past the time Mrs Bennet had ordered dinner to be served and Cook was apparently going wild in the kitchen.
“I shall shepherd them all in directly, Mrs Hill,” Elizabeth promised, glad to have a task to turn her mind to. “Go ahead and tell Cook to serve the meal.”
Bingley at least was eager to eat; it transpired that he had ridden from London with only the briefest of pauses to rest his horse and had not eaten since that morning. He took Jane upon his arm and led her into the dining room without care for protocol, and everyone else followed along after. Elizabeth found herself seated between Mr Darcy and Mary, who was even more silent than usual in the face of the merriment in the household that evening.
“Miss Bennet seems very glad that Bingley has come,” Darcy said quietly to Elizabeth as he passed her the gravy boat. “I cannot now comprehend how I might ever have thought that she might be indifferent to him.”
Elizabeth smiled. She had never seen Jane look more radiant; her sparkling eyes were never turned from Charles Bingley’s face for more than a few moments together, and he gazed back at her with equal if not even greater adoration.
“Jane does not readily show her emotions to those who do not know her well,” she replied. “It has not been so easy for her, despite her beauty, or perhaps even because of it. Ever since she was twelve years old or so, she has been constantly told that she must marry well to save our family from being thrown out of Longbourn upon Papa’s demise.”
Darcy shook his head. “Entails are damnable things. Pemberley is not subject to one, I am glad to say. Should I have only daughters, their futures would still be assured. Or, if I have no offspring, Georgiana or her children may inherit.” He grimaced then. “I have a sneaking suspicion that should Wickham have succeeded in wedding Georgie, I would likely have suffered an unfortunate accident before much time had passed.”
The colour drained from Elizabeth’s face. “You must not say such things,” she gasped, horrified. “Oh, Mr Darcy!”
Instinctively, he reached out, placed his hand very lightly over hers for a second before swiftly removing it. “All will be well, Eliz - Miss Elizabeth.” Red touched his high cheekbones briefly at his near-slip. “Wickham has been found out, and once Georgiana feels a little better, I will sit down with her and tell her the truth. The whole truth. I hope that you will accompany me when that conversation takes place.”
“Me?” Elizabeth blinked at him, obviously bemused by the request.
“Indeed. Georgiana has clearly taken to you, and to Miss Bennet. I hope that… well, I know she will be angry, and distressed. Likely she will not want to take my word for the facts of Wickham’s perfidy. Perhaps with you there as a witness, she will be more willing to believe.”
“I know little,” she disclaimed.
“You know what Lady Lucas and your aunt Mrs Phillips talked of yesterday, the dreadful incident at the Gouldings and his behaviour towards this other young lady — Miss King, was it?”
“Wickham was very keen on Lizzy until Miss King and her inheritance entered the picture,” Mary said snidely, and rather unexpectedly, from the other side of Darcy. “I daresay they both have had a lucky escape.”
Startled, Darcy looked back at Elizabeth, found her gaze firmly focused on her plate, her knife and fork gripped tightly in her hands. “Wickham was courting you?” he asked, trying to suppress a flare of jealousy.
“He was attentive,” Elizabeth said, keeping her eyes on her plate. “While I confess to feeling a little flattered when a handsome man in uniform pays me attention, I am not one to lose my wits over a red coat. Mr Wickham had nothing to offer beyond pretty words and I was not dismayed when he turned his eyes elsewhere.” She gave a little smile then, cast an arch glance sideways at Darcy. “No more dismayed than I was when Mr Collins was persuaded that I would not, after all, make him a good wife.”
Darcy could still not quite believe that Collins had the gall to think for one moment that Elizabeth would have accepted him. He could only imagine how ghastly the man’s proposal might have been, doubtless full of self-serving platitudes and obsequious references to his illustrious patroness, Darcy’s aunt.
“I cannot think that Miss Lucas will make him a good wife either,” Darcy said honestly. “She seems far too intelligent and sensible a woman to be happy with such a sycophantic buffoon.”
“You and I are of one mind on that matter, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth said, “and I have expressed my opinion honestly to Charlotte, but she is of the mind that love is not necessary to make a good marriage.”
“Perhaps it is not, but a measure of mutual respect must be the least that one could desire!”
They were briefly interrupted by the main course being cleared, but Darcy sensed that Elizabeth was looking at him quizzically.
“You do not believe that love is necessary in a good marriage, Mr Darcy?”
He hesitated, framing his words. “I have seen happy couples that did not begin their marriages in love with one another. My parents had an arranged marriage; they barely knew each other before the wedding and yet they loved each other very deeply. Whereas I have seen others who believe that they are in love rush into marriage, only to discover within a year or so how ill-suited they are.”
“The first flush of passion fades into indifference,” Elizabeth said, and Darcy realised that she was looking along the table at her father. “Eventually, there is little left but contempt.”
There was little he could say. She saw only too clearly the state of her own parents’ union. Finally, he said “Mutual respect, Miss Elizabeth, is a good foundation to begin from, and a commonality of character and interests. Your sister and Mr Bingley have all those, at least.”
“They do.” Her smile returned as she turned her head to look at Jane and Bingley, heads bent close together as they talked, quite oblivious to anyone else in the room. “But we were not speaking of them; we were speaking of Charlotte and Mr Collins. How I wish I could convince Charlotte that being ‘comfortably settled’ is not worth the price of marriage to such a man!”
Darcy did not know what to say to comfort her; Elizabeth’s concern for her friend’s happiness was commendable, but the wedding was mere days away. Charlotte could not back out now without irreparable damage to her reputation, and Collins would certainly not give up such a woman easily. The parson might be silly but he was clearly intelligent enough to recognise Charlotte Lucas’ fine qualities.
Lydia was chattering loudly about preparing the house for Christmas; she looked across the table at Darcy then and said
;
“Will you help us to decorate the house with holly and ivy tomorrow, Mr Darcy?” Her tone suggested that she fully expected him to refuse; she looked positively astonished when he said that he should be delighted.
“Miss Elizabeth has already mentioned that my height will be of service, in that none of you will have to climb on chairs to hang the greenery,” he said, “and so I could not possibly refuse.”
“You are not at all like the proud, rude Mr Darcy who stayed in Meryton in the autumn,” Lydia said, “what happened to you?”
“Lydia!” Elizabeth hissed, scandalised. Lydia rolled her eyes and sat back in her seat with a huff.
“You are not incorrect, Miss Lydia, that my manners were poor on my previous visit to Hertfordshire,” Darcy said, startling Elizabeth who looked at him wide-eyed. “I have little excuse to offer but that I had a great deal on my mind. I was in no mood to be social with anyone.”
“Ha, you are certainly not wrong,” Bingley said in cheerful agreement. “I have never seen you so moody!”
“Yes, thank you, Bingley.” Darcy smiled at his friend to take the sting of sarcasm from his words. “However, on reflection, I realised that I had met a great many people in Hertfordshire worthy of esteem, not least the members of the Bennet family. On this return visit, I am resolved to pay off every arrear of civility and make myself now as agreeable as before I was, as you observed, Miss Lydia, proud and rude.”
For a few moments there was a startled silence at the table, and then Mr Bennet said “Well said, Mr Darcy. It takes a man great in spirit to admit to his past mistakes so openly and vow to do better.”
“Thank you, Mr Bennet, but I could not lay claim to such a label.”
“You are too modest, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth said softly at his side, and he looked down to find her eyes fixed upon his face.
A Christmas Miracle At Longbourn (The Darcy And Lizzy Miracles Book 1) Page 13
