Deception

by Ola Wegner

  There was a moment of hesitation on her part before she answered, lifting her calm eyes at him. “Yes, I have.”

  Mr. Brooke did not reply with words, but he took her other hand and brought it gently to his lips, kissing her gloved hand, his eyes not leaving her face, even for a short moment.

  “I have been in London,” he said when they resumed their walk.

  “Really?” Elizabeth asked blankly, staring in the opposite direction.

  “Yes. I had the pleasure of meeting there our mutual acquaintance and neighbour, Mr. Bingley.”

  Elizabeth stopped and turned abruptly to him. “You saw Mr. Bingley…,” she whispered. “Did you talk to him?”

  “Yes, we talked but shortly, and he invited me to call on him. When I did the other day, he enquired much about your parents and about your elder sister. Can you imagine that he had no idea whatsoever that Miss Bennet had been staying in London since New Year’s? Well over a month.” He glanced at Elizabeth intently. “It is rather odd, will you not agree?”

  Elizabeth stared at him, her expression tense. “I understand you made him aware of the fact of my sister’s stay in London,” she said breathlessly.

  “Yes, I did.” Mr. Brooke allowed himself a little smile when her eyes were not directed at him. “Do you think that I should not have done it?”

  “No, I mean yes, I am very glad that you did.” She shook her head, staring at the frozen ground beneath her with a frown, before lifting her eyes to him again. “How did he react?”

  “As I said, he was very much surprised to hear about it. He asked me whether I was aware where exactly she was staying. I said that all I knew was she was staying with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner in Cheapside.”

  Elizabeth stood as if frozen in place, her mind still focused on what she had just been told.

  “Miss Bennet, I think we should go inside,” Mr. Brooke said, giving his horse to the stable hand as they neared the stables. “I do not want you to catch a cold.” He touched her arm.

  “Yes, of course,” Elizabeth agreed, still distracted. She accepted the proffered arm again, and they walked into the house.

  The following day, Elizabeth received a new letter from her dearest sister. Jane wrote that, quite surprisingly, Mr. Bingley had called on her at their uncle’s house. He had heartily apologized for not calling earlier, but he had not been aware that she had come to London at all. If not for an accidental meeting of Mr. Brooke, he would not have been aware of the fact at all. The letter was short because Jane and Mrs. Gardiner had plans for a short shopping trip. Jane needed new gloves, as Mr. Bingley had invited all of them to his opera box the following week.

  ***

  It was broad daylight, in a spacious room, on the upstairs of the elegant home in the fashionable part of London. A tall, well built man was disrobing himself, throwing the items of his clothing dismissively on the nearest chair. A beautiful, raven haired woman was sitting on the bed, her naked form barely covered with the sheet.

  When the man removed his last article of clothing, he walked to the edge of the bed and took hold of her abundant curls, moving her face to his groin.

  She took him obediently into her mouth, pleasuring him till he stopped her. He then flipped her over on her stomach, pulling her shapely bottom high. He reached beneath her, palming her breasts roughly for a few moments. Next he started rubbing her purposively between her thighs. All too soon, he entered her swiftly from behind. The woman’s eyes widened, she whimpered softly and swallowed hard.

  After a few minutes, the man collapsed on her and then rolled from her onto one side of the large four poster bed.

  “This is the last time you will see me,” he said after a long moment.

  She snuggled close to him. “You are not pleased with me?”

  “I am pleased, but I plan to marry soon. I am not going to cheat on my wife. She is young and beautiful. I will not need a mistress anymore.”

  “But perhaps…” The woman reached her hand to stroke his chest. “In time you will change…,” she said softly.

  He stopped her hand wandering over his body. “No.” He stood up and started dressing himself.

  The woman got up as well and walked to him. “You met her in the country, did you not?”

  “Yes, she is a real lady,” the man said, not looking at the woman. “A gentleman’s daughter, well bred, innocent, genteel and accomplished.”

  The woman’s expression hardened. “Congratulations. You always get what you want.”

  “Yes, I do,” he said, not paying any attention to his lover’s now somehow bitter tone. “This house is in your name. You can stay here or sell it; I don’t care. You will receive your monthly allowance for half a year yet.”

  He finished dressing and left the room.

  ***

  Georgiana Darcy tiptoed to the door of her brother’s study. Reaching for the doorknob, she opened it, trying not to make the slightest noise. She peered inside cautiously, but seeing her brother sleeping on the couch instead of working, she entered.

  She walked to him quietly and smiled. The furniture he lay on was undoubtedly too short for him. His long legs stuck out at the other end of it. Once she had tried to convince him that perhaps he would need a bigger and more comfortable sofa in his study, knowing very well that he liked to nap there when his eyes got tired from reading his correspondence.

  But he only huffed at her, informing her that he had a bed in his bedroom, and that was enough for him. He would have never admitted openly that he often took a nap in his study during the day. Georgiana gazed lovingly at his darling face. He looked tired and pale, and he had lost weight lately and now was much too slim, always working too much, wearing himself down too much. She sighed. He would not listen to her when she told him he needed more rest.

  With an affectionate smile, Georgiana took out the papers from his limp hand and put them neatly aside on the small side table. Next she retrieved the soft woollen blanket from one of the bottom drawers of the bookcase and covered him with it.

  He murmured something and turned on his side, his hair falling over his eyes in the process. Georgiana reached with her hand to gently comb away the disobedient curls. She stilled in surprise, when he caught her hand and kept it firmly to his chest.

  “Elizabeth…” he murmured. “ Do not go… Stay with me, my love.”

  Georgiana perched on the edge of the sofa beside him, letting him keep her hand, watching his blissful expression. Elizabeth again, a mysterious Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She was curious to meet her, to know her better. Georgiana shook her head at the thought of her brother being in love; it was so hard to imagine. She had never seen him pay any attention to any of the young ladies of their acquaintance. On the contrary, usually he seemed to use all in his power to escape from their attentions.

  This Miss Elizabeth could not be as horrible as Miss Bingley described her if her brother clearly admired the lady. Miss Bingley, when Georgiana had seen her in London in December, made a few condescending remarks about Miss Elizabeth, her mother and four sisters. Georgiana, however, thought that it must be a very happy family indeed with five girls in it. She loved her brother. He was the best brother she could wish for, but there were matters she could not discuss with him. It would be different if she had a sister.

  Fitzwilliam murmured something again and released her hand. Georgiana adjusted the blanket around his neck, put another log on the fire so he would not get cold and left the room quietly.

  Later that day when they sat in the smaller, private drawing room, Georgiana carefully observed her brother while she was playing for him. Her fingers were moving swiftly over the keyboard, performing the complex composition, but her eyes were on her brother’s absent expression.

  “That was beautiful, sweetie,” he said when she finished.

  “I am happy you enjoyed it, Brother.” She walked to the sofa that he was sitting on and took a seat beside him.

  She smiled at him with her sweetest smile and wa
s rewarded with a grin of his own, showing his dimples. She had always secretly thought that it was rather unfair that it was her brother who inherited such adorable dimples and not she.

  “What is the matter, Sister?” Darcy gazed at her perceptively. “Are you up to something?”

  She gave him her most innocent expression, and shook her blonde head. “No, everything is perfectly all right. It is just…” she started, as she let out a little sigh and peered at him through her eyelashes.

  He was looking at her patiently.

  “Have you had any news from Mr. Bingley lately?” she asked at last.

  “Yes, I received a letter from him yesterday, but why you are asking?”

  Georgiana lifted her eyebrows and spoke lightly. “Oh, some time ago I was reading the book about the geography of England, and there was a very interesting chapter there about Hertfordshire.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And then I remembered that Mr. Bingley leased an estate there. Netherfield, was it not?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “And when we saw Mr. Bingley in London before Christmas, he talked with such an enthusiasm about Hertfordshire and the people he had met there. Do you know, perhaps, whether he intends to go back there?”

  Darcy leaned back in his seat and took a careful look at his sister, his expression not a bit perplexed. “As a matter of fact, he does, and soon, next week or so. I think he intends to stay there for some time, for the entire spring at least.”

  “Oh, perhaps you could visit him?” Georgiana cried, clasping her hands together. “You could take me with you, as I would like to see Hertfordshire very much indeed.”

  “You know that I am scheduled to visit Lady Catherine together with Colonel Fitzwilliam, and you are to stay with Lord and Lady Matlock during that time.” Darcy reminded her.

  “Yes, I know, but I would prefer to spend the time with you.” She pouted. “I could go with you to Kent, and later we could perhaps visit Mr. Bingley in Hertfordshire.”

  “Georgiana, you have never wanted to visit Lady Catherine before.” He looked at her with concern, taking her small hand into his. “Sweetie, you can tell…” he started gently. “Do you like Mr. Bingley?”

  “Of course I like Mr. Bingley,” Georgiana answered instantly. “He is your friend and he is terribly kind.”

  “Yes, but I meant whether you like him in a different way…” Darcy gave his little sister an embarrassed look. “You know what I mean.”

  Georgiana looked at him, greatly confused, before the understanding of his meaning dawned on her. “No, of course not, no!” she exclaimed without hesitation.

  “But you want to visit him.” Darcy persisted worriedly.

  “Brother, that is truly a strange idea.” she glared at him. “Mr. Bingley is simply Mr. Bingley. He is like Cousin Richard to me, like my other brother. Besides, I think he is quite taken with that Miss Bennet he met in Hertfordshire. I heard him telling you that she was an angel.”

  “Yes, he was quite taken with her,” Darcy agreed. “And from his last letter, I can guess that his intentions towards her are most serious.”

  “Will he marry her?” Georgiana asked, biting her lower lip.

  “It is possible.”

  “Splendid!” Georgiana cried, all but jumping up in place. “You will attend the wedding, of course, as his best friend.”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” Darcy said, greatly confused with the turn of the conversation. “Georgiana.” he spoke earnestly. “Why are you asking me all these questions? I truly cannot fathom the reason for your sudden interest in Bingley and his affairs.”

  Georgiana took a deep breath and spoke with determination. “Correct me if I am wrong, but Mr. Bingley’s Miss Bennet has a younger sister, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

  Darcy blinked in surprise. “Yes.”

  “I heard her to be very accomplished and witty. I understand she enjoys reading, long walks and lively conversation. She plays the pianoforte and sings with great feeling.” Georgiana enumerated on her slim long fingers. “She has beautiful dark eyes and possesses a kind heart.”

  “How on earth do you know so much about her?” Darcy cried, astonished.

  “From you, brother,” Georgiana said softly.

  Darcy opened his mouth, staring at his little sister. At last he spoke unbelievably. “Georgiana,…?”

  “We could go together to Hertfordshire after visiting in Kent,” she said quickly, placing both of her hands on his arm. “I am sure Mr. Bingley will welcome us.”

  Darcy still stared at her, not commenting. His sister leaned to him. “I would very much like to meet her.”

  “Meet who?”

  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, of course,” Georgiana said a bit impatiently, thinking that her very smart brother could be quite daft at times. “I imagine her to be very amiable.”

  Darcy stood up and walked to the fire place. “Georgiana, it is not so easy as you may think,” he murmured.

  She walked to him quietly and snuggled closely to his side, resting her head on his arm. “Why not? Miss Bingley said she was very horrible, and that is the best proof that she must be quite the opposite.”

  To Georgiana’s satisfaction, her last comment brought a reluctant smile to her brother’s face. She took his hand and lifted herself on her toes, gazing at him pleadingly with her big blue eyes.

  “Georgiana Darcy, you are not ten any more, and this pleading expression does not work its charm on me.” he said sternly, but there was a smile hiding in the corner of his eyes.

  In response, she let a little sigh, pouted, and folding her hands together as in prayer, whispered. “Pretty please?”

  “You are impossibly spoilt,” Darcy said at last, shaking his head. “We will talk about it later.” he added formally, kissing her on the cheek and leaving the room.

  Georgiana Darcy smiled in triumph and rubbed her hands together. She knew she had won.

  ***

  “Mama, Mama, we must go to Meryton, I need a new bonnet!” Lydia Bennet cried, approaching her mother, who seemed to be hiding behind a tree.

  “Child, do not speak so loudly,” Mrs. Bennet hissed, catching her youngest daughter’s hand, and pulling both of them behind the large rose bush.

  “But, Mama,…” Lydia started again, but Mrs. Bennet shushed her and pointed to the couple passing some twenty yards in front of them.

  Lydia frowned and spoke quietly this time. “It is only Lizzy with Mr. Brooke,” she said dismissively. “Mama, I want a bonnet made like the one Jane brought from London for Kitty. I cannot imagine why she did not bring me a similar one.”

  “Jane brought you very lovely gloves and new ribbons,” Mrs. Bennet reminded her absently, her attention entirely focused on her second daughter talking with Mr. Brooke.

  “But a new bonnet is much better than gloves,” Lydia protested. “Kitty is so selfish. She refuses to exchange her bonnet for my gloves. That would be for the best, for the bonnet suits me much better than her.”

  “Lydia, child, there are more important things now for me to deal with than your bonnets,” Mrs. Bennet whispered impatiently. “Look.” She pulled at her hand to make her look at the couple in front of them.

  Lydia’s eyes widened. “He’s kneeling…,” she gasped. “Do you think he is proposing?” she frowned, moving a bit forward. “I cannot hear a word from what he is speaking.”

  Mrs. Bennet bit her lower lip, her face all tense. “Good Lord, I beg you, do not let that girl do anything stupid,” she muttered to herself.

  “Yuck.” Lydia stuck her tongue out in obvious disgust a moment later. “He has kissed her on the cheek.”

  Mrs. Bennet turned to her youngest daughter and hugged her. “At last!” she cried in a hushed tone, her eyes following Mr. Brooke and Elizabeth walking slowly back to the manor. “He has been taking ages. I almost thought him to be lost to us. Lydia, child, just imagine, fifteen thousand a year, Purvis Lodge and a house in town. We are truly blessed!”


  Lydia shrugged her shoulders. “I am only happy that it is Lizzy marrying that old man and not me.” She peered at her mother and added thoughtfully after a moment. “But you are right, Mama. It is a good match for Lizzy. Do you think Mr. Bingley will propose as well? He calls every day. Jane sits for an hour before the mirror every morning, as if she did not always look beautiful in any case.”

  “I think he will, Lydia. I think he will.” Mrs. Bennet squeezed Lydia’s rosy cheek.

  Lydia smiled and asked pleasantly. “So if we are so fortunate, and Lizzy is to be so very rich, perhaps I could get a new bonnet after all?”

  Chapter Eleven

  The day was pleasantly warm, and Elizabeth Bennet was taking her everyday walk on the grounds surrounding Rosings Park. Since the day of her arrival, when she had had the opportunity to admire the countryside through the carriage’s window, she had taken a strong liking to the natural beauty of Kent. She especially fancied the wilder parts of the park, far away from the precisely manicured in the French style gardens situated in the closest vicinity of the manor. However, in the past few days, she had taken special care to keep her distance away from the great house and its surroundings, being well aware of the guests who had come to stay there.

  For the duration of the last week, the inhabitants of Hunsford had not received an invitation to join Lady Catherine for dinner, or even for tea, even though it had been an established custom that the parson and his wife dined at Rosings every few days. Elizabeth rightly thought that her ladyship now had more attractive company to amuse herself in her nephews, Mr. Darcy and his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of the Lord of Matlock, as Mr. Collins had readily informed her. The lack of invitation was much to Elizabeth’s satisfaction, who, contrary to her cousin, considered visits at Rosings to be neither highly pleasant nor stimulating and not in the least something to look forward to. She treated them as a duty she had to perform for Charlotte’s sake.

  There were many different reasons Elizabeth Bennet was extremely glad to leave Longbourn for a few weeks to visit her friend, Charlotte, in her new home in Kent, even though she had definitely had mixed feelings about it when the invitation had been placed the previous autumn. Back then, spending several weeks in the company of Mr. Collins had not held that level of attraction for her. But when in the last days of February the letter had come from Kent, renewing the invitation to spend the Easter at Hunsford in the warmest of tones, Elizabeth had found herself more than eager to accept it.