“And how did your brother respond?” Elizabeth asked when Georgiana paused.
Perhaps recognizing the stiffness in Elizabeth’s voice or the fact that she was holding her breath, Georgiana grabbed her friend’s hands once again, “Oh, he was very complimentary towards you, extoling your virtues and explaining how thankful he is for your friendship. But he was very clear that you were like a little sister to him.”
“So you have realised you must give up your matchmaking?” Elizabeth teased. Her smile was forced, and she was not sure how much longer she could hold in her tears.Though she told herself she was no worse off than she was before and this was precisely how she imagined Mr. Darcy saw her, somehow her heart was still breaking.
“I suppose I must, but what do you think of Mr. Bingley? He is a fine-looking man with a good fortune. If you have other ideas for Jane, perhaps I missed an opportunity . . .”
“Have you given up on Mr. Robertson so soon?” Elizabeth asked.
Knowing it would be some time before she could surrender to the tumult of her heart and mind, Elizabeth thought to introduce a new subject that was sure to distract them both. “No, Georgiana. This is not giving up at all. You must leave us all to our own devices, or you shall not thank me when I return the favour once you are out. You seem to have two men in mind for me?”
Elizabeth stood and declared her desire to return to the house. They set out on the path side by side. It was just wide enough for both of their mounts for the first few miles.
“Since you brought it up . . . will you speak about Mr. John Robertson?”
“You were trying to put us together by sending me in the carriage with his family?”
“I confess I was. Although I have always held out for you and William, anyone can see how much John Robertson admires you. He is so open and yet tactful about it. I appreciate that and of course applaud his taste, so I thought I would give him what opportunity I could, and it did occur to me that perhaps his interest would force my brother’s hand. That was before Irealised that you two simply do not think of each other that way.”
Hearing it the second time was just as hard as the first. Elizabeth took a breath and banished her feelings, or tried to.
“Very well, I’ll not chastise you for it,” she said, turning to offer a reassuring smile before giving her attention to the path once more. She let the silence hang between them, knowing Georgiana was dying to hear more.
“And!?” Georgiana pleaded.
“He did not declare his love for me as we rode home with his parents and brother,” she laughed. “But we did run into one another in Lambton yesterday. We took a turn about the green while Mr. Barlow took King to the blacksmith.”
“A coincidence?”
“Not precisely, but not a secret assignation either,” Elizabeth explained. “He asked for an opportunity to meet before he left. I spoke with my aunt, and she saw nothing untoward.”
“Indeed,” Georgiana agreed. “What topics did you canvass in this not-secret Mrs. Gardiner-approved not-assignation?”
“He told me of his hopes for the future, how he imagines he will be a curate for some years to come, but after that, he believes he will be able to earn a respectable living. As you likely know, his brother has been made the heir to their uncle, and it is possible that something will come of that for both of them. Morethan anything, he said he hopes to one day not only marry for love, but to be able to support a wife in comfort.”
“He was quite specific and quite general, was he not?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed.
Though she had suggested this conversational topic to distract herself from thoughts of Darcy’s lack of regard. However, talk of John Robertson always seemed create confusion within her. With Darcy, at least everything was simple and stayed in its assigned place. She loved him. She hid this as best she could. He cared for her as a sister. He showed this as best he could. With John, it was more complicated. She did not care for him the way she did Darcy, nor were her feelings the same as those she had for John Lucas, who had been a friend since childhood, or even Mr. Bingley or Colonel Fitzwilliam, both fine-looking men whom she was beginning to know. It was confusing.
She had previously believed there were three categories for her feelings for others—the love of family, the love of a friend and romantic love. This last category had only ever had one person in it. And everyone else slotted nicely into the other two. But not John Robertson.
“He did not ask you to wait for him?” Georgiana asked with mild alarm.
“No, nothing so bold. I think he went as far as he could without making a declaration.”
Elizabeth had felt it within her power to prompt him to declare himself, but she did not desire it and was not ready for it. He followed her lead with his general specifics, and they partedas friends. Thinking he would be home the following summer during her visit to Barlow Hall, the promise of being in the same place at that future season was all that they gave one another. Though she was not entirely pleased with that, she was not particularly worried either.
Georgiana seemed to think on this for some moments.
“I suppose that settles that for the time being, then. Are you satisfied with how things stand?”
It was a good question and one she could not exactly answer. She told her friend as much.
“That makes sense. It is well that you need not reach a conclusion at this time.”
“I suppose that is true.”
