“Her friendship with Georgiana is something I value as well, and I think you make too much of this. It is a childish infatuation, which is barely perceptible the majority of the time. It is, for the most part, confined to long looks and blushing.”
“And the occasional head on your shoulder?” There was a teasing note to the elder Darcy’s voice.
“She really did simply fall asleep.”
“Of course.” Mr. Darcy sounded unconvinced. “Shall we review Stearns’ letter, or should we wait until the morning?”
Elizabeth stood outside the door for another moment before slowly making her way back to Georgiana’s room. As she climbed into the bed next to her sleeping friend, she felt the sting of tears.
Nothing she had heard was so very bad. Or so she told herself. But it was incredibly embarrassing. Mortifying, really. She had always wondered if her feelings were detectable by those who observed her and Darcy together. Indeed, her reaction to him was so strong within herself that she imagined it must be visible somehow, but she had never allowed herself to think on it too much. Likely because if she had, she would have realised on her own what the overheard father-son conversationrevealed. Everyone knew. Though later she would dwell on this mortification, in those hours while her friend slumbered beside her and Elizabeth cried herself not quite to sleep, this was not what seemed to matter most. The ubiquitous knowledge of her feelings was embarrassing, but her Mr. Darcy’s dismissal of them was acutely painful. He saw her as just a child whose feelings were so inconsequential as to not warrant concern. He had not been intentionally unkind; indeed, he was almost defending her. If she had felt less, this may have been a balm, but his words wounded her.
By the time the sun could be seen rising over the hills beyond Pemberley Wood, Elizabeth had gained control of herself, though she had not resolved her feelings or determined a course of action. It was all too much. And so she put the conversation and the emotion and heartache it had triggered into a box in her mind where she told herself it would be safe until she could pour it out to the only person who might help or at least understand. Jane. Elizabeth knew her aunt would offer consolation and likely advice, but she could not bear to think about repeating the words she overheard nor speaking the feelings they had caused. Jane’s distance, the requirement of writing and the time it would take to hear a response all made this feel like the best course to Elizabeth.
So it was that Georgiana barely perceived any change in her friend as they set about their day the next morning. Perhaps the only thing that might have given away Elizabeth’s inability to completely contain her confusion and heartache was when Miss Darcy suggested they seek out Fitzwilliam to join them for their morning walk.
“No, please,” Lizzy said quickly, then collecting herself, went on. “If you do not mind too much, I should like to have you all to myself.”
Georgiana was flattered and assured her friend that she would also be glad to have Lizzy to herself. The sunshine, exercise and animated conversation did much to restore Elizabeth’s equanimity. Combined with the absence of the younger Darcy for the rest of the day’s visit Lizzy was able to salvage her enjoyment of her stay at Pemberley.
Elizabeth and Georgiana spent the entire carriage ride talking to one another in their somewhat more than rudimentary Italian. Miss Baxter, being fluent herself, had been tutoring the girls informally at their request. She offered an occasional correction or instruction as they rolled along towards Lambton.
Three weeks had passed since their birthday festivities, and this was to be their last outing before Lizzy returned to Hertfordshire. They were eager to make the most of it. The plans included taking tea at the Rose and Crown Inn and shopping for gifts for Elizabeth to bring home to her family at the bookstore and the haberdashery.
After sending a three-page letter to Jane about what had happened at Pemberley on her birthday—in which she included all of the good along with the very bad—Lizzy made an effort to forget about the overheard conversation and its implications. She thought she was more or less successful at this, but her continued consideration of it manifested itself inthe occasional bouts of melancholy which were noted by both Georgiana and Aunt Gardiner. In addition, Lizzy studiously avoided conversation with the young Mr. Darcy beyond polite necessities, during which she expended great effort to appear as if all were well. Though proud of herself and certain of the necessity of such action, she found she missed talking with and teasing him a great deal.
As Miss Baxter led them into the private sitting room at the inn, they were greeted by its proprietors.
“It is an honour to have you, Miss Darcy,” Mr. Morton said. “And you as well, Miss Baxter and Miss Bennet. My wife will be serving you. Please feel free to let us know if you require anything.”
Just then, a plump older woman with grey-blond hair tucked neatly inside her white cap bustled into the room holding a tray of biscuits, cakes and fruits. She placed it beside the tea things on the large centre table. The ladies took their seats around it, and when the proprietors left, Miss Darcy moved to serve the tea. Elizabeth and Miss Baxter took their cups from her.
“Georgiana, you are becoming quite the hostess,” Elizabeth told her friend.
“Perhaps next summer you and Miss Bennet can host a small party of friends at Pemberley,” Miss Baxter suggested.
“Oh, do you think Father would allow that?”
“I think it is likely he will be eager to give you an opportunity to practice for the role you will someday hold at Pemberley and someday your own home. Indeed, it will giveyou an opportunity to demonstrate all you will learn this year at Bembridge.”
“Miss Baxter, this is meant to be an enjoyable outing. I do not wish to think on that place,” Georgiana protested with a pout.
“Miss Darcy,” the governess admonished, “you must resign yourself. It is an incredible opportunity not only to learn, but to make new friends.”
“I do not wish to be forced to spend time with spoiled girls—”
“Georgiana,” Lizzy interrupted, “you mustn’t judge your schoolmates before you meet them. That is unkind, and you are the kindest young lady I know. Besides, I am looking forward to all of your letters. I will wave them about, bragging of my intimate friend from the prestigious Bembridge Academy. I will consider myself an honorary student by virtue of our correspondence, which I know will be detailed and frequent enough to justify it.”
Miss Baxter shot a grateful look at Elizabeth before adding, “I too look forward to hearing about everyone you meet and everything you learn as well.”
“It is you who will have the most to share,” Georgiana answered.
“Yes, I hope you will write me as well if it is not too much trouble. I should love to hear all about St. Petersburg and, moreover, what it is like to be in the household of a diplomat in that city. I imagine it will be quite grand.”
“I do not know about grand, but I am certain it will be quite interesting,” Miss Baxter replied. “But I would be happy to write you and receive letters from you. I am certain I will be grateful for any news from England when I am gone.”
“Are you sorry to be going after all?” Georgiana asked. “I know Father was speaking to Lord Cavan . . .”
“No, nothing of the sort, Miss Darcy. I am grateful to your father and brother for referring me to Lord and Lady Cavan and look forward to spending the year as companion to Lady Cavan’s mother. It is just that I have travelled before and know that regardless of how agreeable a situation may be, a part of me will always long for home.”
