"You look very nice, Georgiana. You should stop fussing now."
Georgiana Darcy looked away from the glass above the fireplace. She had not realised her brother had been watching her from where he stood by the drawing room windows. He had seemed preoccupied with the street below. They were the first to be ready, punctuality being a Darcy trait, rather than a Fitzwilliam one, and they waited alone for the arrival of both the rest of their family and their guests. She smiled at him "I was not sure about my hair."
"Tis fine, leave it well alone."
She had to smile at her brother's brevity and clipped tone. Anyone who did not know him might call him abrupt or rude. She knew better and understood he was trying to reassure her, but he was not accustomed to flattering women, or dispensing compliments designed to subdue their fears.
"I was thinking I might leave in a few days," he said.
"Leave Bath! You have only just arrived.”
He shrugged. "I am happier at Pemberley. You might stay if you wish. I am sure our aunt will arrange for you to be brought home whenever you are ready. I do not wish to detract from your enjoyment."
"Fitzwilliam," she crossed the room and put a hand on his arm. "My enjoyment of Bath is great because you are here with me. To see you out in society again makes me happy, you have been too long shut away."
"It feels somewhat improper. I am still in mourning."
"There is no impropriety. It has been nearly a twelve month since Anne's death. I have known men to take a new wife in half the time." She touched the armband on his sleeve. "I know you are not like most men and your commitment to her memory does you credit, but it is time to let go a little. Could you not cast off the black? I am afraid it scares people."
Darcy chuckled. "Perhaps I like to scare people a little. It saves me the trouble of finding something to talk to them about."
Her look was tender. "I am not always easy in society either, but we have to exert ourselves."
"Do we? Says who?"
Georgiana gave him a reproachful look.
"Since when did you begin to give me advice anyway, little sister? Was it not always the other way around?"
"I am all grown up in case you had not noticed and I am concerned about you."
He kissed her forehead. "Do not be." He checked his pocket watch and looked down at the street again. "Let us hope our relations do not tarry too much longer or they will not be in the drawing room before our guests arrive." Just as he spoke they heard the commotion in the hallway of his aunt being accompanied downstairs by her husband - bickering and fussing at one another as they descended.
"Fitzwilliam, please do not go,” Georgiana pleaded. “Do not leave Bath yet. While I boast of being grown up, I confess, your presence in this house and at every social occasion makes me feel better. You give me confidence. I might face anything if you are with me."
He looked at her for a long while before acquiescing. He could deny his young sister nothing that was within his power. Having lost both parents by the tender age of eleven, he was all she had. His own life may have taken a turn into darkness and be full of disappointment but he would do anything to make Georgiana happy. He shoved aside his own unease and greeted his uncle and aunt, his cousin and then Caroline Bingley as they all entered. Then just as they had settled down, the footman announced Mrs Mountford and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Darcy stood, of course, as was expected during the greetings but he lingered at the back and watched while others talked, made enquiries as to health, exclaimed delight at seeing one another and generally made themselves agreeable. He had the embarrassment of seeing his uncle, on being presented with Elizabeth, stare at her chest while speaking to her, before pronouncing her a ‘fine girl’. Elizabeth, Darcy realised, was now a woman of four and twenty and not quite as innocent as she had been when he’d first known her. He could tell she was fully aware of where the Earl’s notice was directed and she bore the affront on her not inconsiderable front, with admirable tolerance and a quirky smile.
He moved to the window, his gaze directed again at the street below. Yet while he watched the ebb and flow of Bath he could not claim to have attended to any of it. Here she was again! Four years ago, after he thought he had left her behind forever in Hertfordshire, she had turned up at his other aunt’s house to disturb his equilibrium and torture him down to his very soul. It was as if he had committed some great sin and was to be punished for it by having they very thing he could not have dangled in front of him at odd intervals. He looked around to where she stood and noted, with a little surprise, that she looked as uncomfortable as he felt. He had never seen her nervous and unsure before, she always seemed to him to have an unfailing confidence, but now she fiddled with the sash of her dress and then with the cross around her neck, until Mrs Mountford discreetly took her forearm and pulled it down by her side to still her.
It must be his presence which gave her cause for alarm. How embarrassing it must be for her to be dragged along to a dinner with a man she detested; a man who had made such an ass of himself before her. To think he had almost embarrassed himself further the other night at the assembly. He’d been overcome with an urge to ask her to dance, to show her he bore no ill will. She would have had to say yes, politeness would have demanded it of her and how miserable she would have been to go through the steps with him. He turned back to the window, determined not to add to her unease. Tonight he would say as little as possible, sit as far away from her as he could and trouble her not. It was the kindest thing to do.
Elizabeth excused herself from the conversation between Mrs Mountford and Lady Fitzwilliam. It was with a deep breath and no small amount of trepidation that she crossed the room to stand behind Mr Darcy at the window. She said his name twice before he turned around. He tugged at his cuffs and frowned.
“I am sorry to disturb your reverie; I just wanted to express my apologies. I was unforgivably rude when we met the other night. I had not heard of your bereavement…”
“Georgiana passed on your apologies, as requested,” he cut her off. “Think no more of it. Do not trouble yourself. It is of no consequence.”
With the smallest of nods he walked quickly away, leaving her standing alone on the rug, in the middle of the room, and feeling a little foolish for having made the effort to seek him out. What had she expected, civility for a change, or perhaps that his manners might have improved? That they would converse freely, without thrust and parry, perhaps even laugh together, the past forgotten? It was obvious he had not forgiven her for rejecting him, or for the wild accusations she had slung his way. She sighed, shrugged her shoulders and re-joined the ladies.
When they were called into dinner, Mr Darcy was absent and by the time he arrived in the dining room the only empty seat was next to Elizabeth. She saw him look at the chair with some annoyance before stalking towards it. She arched her brow at him as he sat down. “Bad luck, Mr Darcy.”
He gave her a quizzical look before sitting but said nothing, flicking his napkin out and laying it across his lap in short, angry moments. It was not a large table and there were eight of them sitting down at it. She was close enough to Mr Darcy for their elbows to bump occasionally and when she reached for her wineglass and he for his soup spoon, their fingers brushed. He withdrew his as if he had been burned.
However, Elizabeth could not truly complain about the seating arrangements, for she had been directed to take a place next to their hostess and saw Lady Fitzwilliam meant to compliment her. However, the Countess was now speaking to Georgiana, on her other side.
“I understand you are in Staffordshire now. How do you like it?”
Surprised by Mr Darcy’s enquiry, Elizabeth coughed a little on the sip of wine she had drunk and it was a few moments before she could answer. “I like it very much, particularly the opportunities for walking. It is very different to Hertfordshire. I am used to orchards and neat fields, small brooks. Staffordshire is quite rugged and flat by comparison but I find some of the vistas about Oakdene quite breathtaking.”
“Yes, I’m sure they are,” he said, curtly, and then turned away from her to speak to Miss Bingley, who was on the other side of him. Elizabeth assumed he felt he’d done his duty as a dinner companion and considered there was no need to elaborate; or else he found her comments very dull. Either way she felt done with him. She was exhausted with the effort of worrying about what he thought of her. They might be in close company this evening and perhaps they would meet a few times again before she and Mrs Mountford quit Bath and then, she determined, she would quite forget about Mr Darcy. The memory of the earnest expression he had worn when he’d declared his love for her four years previously at Hunsford would be banished from her mind – forever, she was quite determined.
Lady Fitzwilliam turned back to her and was more sociable, conversing on all the safe subjects one would cover at dinner, before asking about Elizabeth’s family. “Do you have any brothers or sisters, Miss Bennet?”
“I have four sisters, no brother sadly.”
“I should have liked to have a sister,” Georgiana said shyly from the other side of the table.
“Georgiana, you would not say that if you’d had four of them. Why the petty thievery they would stoop to. I had not a bonnet, a glove or a hair ribbon that was not pilfered at some stage. And getting ready for a ball or party…” Elizabeth shook her head, “we never arrived anywhere on time, or without argument.”
“Still, you smile when you talk of them, Elizabeth. I am sure you love them dearly.”
“Your brother is not enough for you, Georgiana? Have I been failing you in some way?” Mr Darcy said sternly.
Georgiana looked aghast for a moment before she laughed at Mr Darcy, becoming aware that he was merely teasing.
Elizabeth looked on, surprised, and saw his features soften into a becoming smile. Though he might be taciturn and haughty with others, there was no mistaking his regard and affection for his sister.
“Five daughters, Miss Bennet! My Goodness, was your father disappointed not to have a son?” Lady Fitzwilliam asked.
“Not as much as he ought to have been perhaps. His estate is entailed away from the female line, so a son would have secured Longbourn for his children and grandchildren, but my father is a philosophical man and treats both hope and disappointment with the same equanimity. Now, my mother is a different character altogether. I have always been a source of great consternation to her. I am the second child and, after first having a girl, she was certain I was to be a boy. Blue caps were knitted in expectation, so when I arrived it was to her great vexation. Not only did I dare to be female but I was born on Christmas Day. My mother had been fattening up a great goose for the occasion and she never got to eat it, having been taken to bed in the morning and my not arriving till almost Boxing Day. She has scolded me for it ever since. I, apparently, have always been awkward.”
Elizabeth heard a sound then that had never reached her ears before, Mr Darcy’s laughter! A genuine chuckle escaped him. It was a rich, melodic sound. She looked his way.
“I am sorry, Miss Bennet. You will excuse me for saying so, but having met your mother, I can well imagine her annoyance.”
“Yes, Mr Darcy, and having met my father, I am sure you can imagine how he likes to tease her by commenting regularly about the succulence of that goose and how it was the best he had ever tasted.”
“I can. Indeed.”
“And perhaps, having met me, you might vouch for my awkwardness?”
He inclined his head thoughtfully. “Awkward, no. Perhaps obstinate.”
Georgiana gasped. “Fitzwilliam, you cannot say such a thing.”
“Oh do not worry, Georgiana. I am not in the least offended. I cannot blame your brother for his honesty. Disguise of any sort is your abhorrence is it not, Mr Darcy? Isn’t that what you once told me?” As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them, because she instantly remembered exactly when he had said it. Had she ruined a moment of levity between them, a rare moment of accord?
Mr Darcy only smiled at her, however. “I do like honesty. Yet, I have learned that sometimes honesty is neither welcomed, nor appreciated. In order to avoid being ‘ungentlemanlike’ is it not better in certain circumstances to say nothing at all?”
She blinked. “Nobody could accuse you of verbosity, Mr Darcy.”
“No, I have been accused of many things, but not that.”
“Whereas I, on many an occasion, have allowed my tongue to run away with me. I tend to speak in haste and repent at leisure.”
“Isn’t that a saying about marriage, Miss Bennet? ‘Married in haste, we may repent at leisure’?”
She thought she had quite given up blushing but the warmth that spread over her chest, climbed up her neck and into her cheeks, could not be stopped, or denied.
Mr Darcy looked at her intently. “I am sure someone with your scruples and good sense, Miss Bennet would say nothing of someone that was not thoroughly deserved.”
Elizabeth wished she were one of those ladies who carried a fan around, as she could do with cooling down. Either that or she could just hold it up in front of her to hide from his scrutiny. He was waiting for a reply. She picked up her knife and examined it before placing it back down again. “You are over-generous, sir. I am sure I have often said a great many things that were entirely without foundation and my temper can be quick.”
“I think you are the generous one. You do not suffer from implacable resentment, Miss Bennet. You might be quick to temper, but I believe you are even quicker to forgive.”
Implacable resentment? It took her some moments before she realised why the phrase sounded so familiar and then she remembered them back in the drawing room at Netherfield, taking verbal swipes at one other. It was so long ago but she was suddenly struck by how rude she had been to him, what saucy little speeches she had directed his way and yet she had accused him of incivility! She let out a small laugh, amused by her own ridiculousness. “No, I hope I have no implacable resentment.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
“So we have established my capricious nature. What of your character, sir? I remember you once saying you hardly ever forgave and that your good opinion once lost, was lost forever. Do time and distance maybe lessen some of your animosity towards those who have lost your good favour?”
“No, not particularly, I am of a firm mind in such matters.”
Elizabeth was astounded; surely he understood her words had been an apology for the more unjust things she had said at Hunsford. She’d expected to have her own wish for peace and accord expressed back in return. She looked across the table absently, wondering what to say next, if anything. Her eyes fell upon Georgiana who was watching them carefully, almost fearfully. She then realised with embarrassment that everyone at the table had fallen silent and had been listening to their exchange.
“But in case you are wondering, Miss Bennet,” Mr Darcy went on. “It would take quite something to destroy my good opinion completely; something of a fair magnitude. I do not change my mind about people on a whim.” He then proceeded to eat his soup.
Completely confounded, Elizabeth picked up her own spoon and smiled hesitantly at her hostess, rather afraid her spirited conversation with her nephew might have caused offence. However, Lady Fitzwilliam looked more intrigued than annoyed. Elizabeth dared not look down the table at Mrs Mountford. She hated to think what might be going on in that sharp lady’s mind.
What did he mean? Had she never lost his good opinion, or had her refusal been ‘something of magnitude’. Just when she had resolved to stop thinking about him, he had given her whole new sources of wonder and doubt and she felt such painful confusion as to make her quite cross. Teasing, teasing man! They said not a word to each other for the rest of dinner.