But it was not yet time to press her. The years of acting as his sister’s guardian had taught him that beyond a shadow of a doubt. With a last shrug, Darcy went in search of Bingley, who was always pleasant and unperplexing company.
∞∞∞
Georgiana hurried to her guest room and locked the door. It would not do for her to be disturbed during her search. She went to the bedside table, where she had placed her copy of Mrs Laurence’s last novel, purchased in the second printing.
Elizabeth had been so gracious to lend it to her. At the time, Georgiana had thought it little short of miraculous that she should have obtained three copies, and little short of saintly that she would lend one to a stranger. Sometimes even miracles have explanations. Georgiana strongly expected that she had just found such a case.
Upon opening the novel, Georgiana flipped to a passage she had read repeatedly, always touched by its beauty. Mrs Laurence described the countryside around her heroine’s home, making it sound so wonderfully gentle and welcoming. Georgiana had thought it a wonderful invention, but in the past few days, something had been tugging at her memory. She had it now.
The countryside Mrs Laurence described was exactly like the view outside her window now, the gently rolling hills and fields of Hertfordshire. Georgiana placed the book on her lap and stared out, though she saw nothing. She was only frozen, trying to make her thoughts work as quickly as she needed them to.
Miss Bennet had certainly shown an impressive understanding of Mrs Laurence’s intentions and themes in the books. And then there were her perpetually stained fingers, which bespoke the countless hours spent writing. Miss Bennet had passed it off as her ample correspondence, but what if all that time she had been writing under the pseudonym of Mrs Laurence? It would make sense why no one had ever been able to find the woman, though many had tried.
Georgiana closed the novel with a thud and set it back on the nightstand. It would also make sense why Elizabeth had left so suddenly and why she might dread being made to see Miss Bingley again. Had Miss Bingley discovered her secret and threatened to expose her as the author of shocking Gothic novels? In most circles, the news would have been scandalous. To Georgiana, it was certainly exciting, but it would in no way diminish her estimation of her friend. Indeed, it made her prouder than ever to know Elizabeth, if her theories were indeed correct.
Poor Elizabeth! If Miss Bingley had used her secret as blackmail, she could certainly understand why she had fled Pemberley. Not everyone would be as understanding as Georgiana was.
At that thought, she stifled a gasp. What would Fitzwilliam think if he knew? He was deeply in love with Elizabeth already, despite her lack of fortune and connections — and what a difficult pill that had been to swallow, for a man raised as he had been to believe he must put his duty to the estate and the family name above everything. Could Fitzwilliam possibly forgive her this? And if he didn’t, would he ever forgive himself?
In the end, there was surely only one path before her. Georgiana bit her lower lip. With a firm nod, she walked out of her room. She knew what she must do.
Chapter 25
On the night of the supper party, Elizabeth was in no condition to enjoy herself. Though perfectly well in body and, at least if Jane’s assurances could be believed, in fine looks, she was so nervous she felt little short of fainting as they approached Netherfield in Mr Bingley’s carriage.
She might excuse herself, at least, with the thought that the rest of the party was in an equal state of turmoil, and one more openly expressed. Her younger sisters had talked of nothing else since Mr Bingley had issued the invitation, and their mother had been whipped up into a veritable frenzy. Mary, poor dear, was little short of dreading the party, and making up for it by stoutly declaring that she would be delighted to play for the company, if it were asked of her. Even Jane, though maintaining an air of calm, was not quite her usual steady self.
Understandably so, for it had been an age since their family had been out in society. The prospect of some breach of propriety being committed by one member of the family or another seemed only too high. Lydia and Kitty were ecstatic to the point of giddiness, and equal to any foolishness. Mrs Bennet was cause for still more concern. After her mother’s near-slip the other day, it seemed all too likely that she might let the secret out. And what Elizabeth would do then, she could not say.
“Are you well?” Jane asked in an undertone as the carriage came to a stop in front of the house.
Elizabeth swallowed hard. “Yes, thank you.” She silently congratulated herself, for she had kept the nervous shake out of her voice almost entirely. There could be nothing gained from making her sister as ill at ease as herself. How could she not be nervous when her family had not been in society for over two years? The younger girls were especially worrisome, for Kitty had barely been out when their father was alive, and Lydia not at all. And now they were so sorely out of practice, anything might come flying out of their mouths.
Jane gave her a knowing smile. “All will be well. It was so kind of Mr Bingley to invite us here this evening,” she said. “Since it is a private family party, it will not be too shameful if the girls say anything they ought not to say. And we will keep them in check.”
It was not only the girls that she was worried about. After Mrs Bennet’s near slip during her last meeting with Mr Bingley, who knew what she might say? Unfortunately, their mother was more concerned with appearances than with the need to keep Elizabeth’s secret, no matter how often its importance was explained to her. There was little Elizabeth could do to counteract the risk. She could not be at her mother’s side the entire evening.
“I suppose you are right,” Elizabeth replied. Though she gave the words her best attempt at cheerfulness, the gentle, encouraging smile Jane gave her in response suggested that it had not been entirely successful.
As they climbed down from the carriage, Lydia immediately went into raptures. “Oh, Mama! How fine it is! How I should have liked to see Netherfield all lit up for a grand ball!”
“Well, hopefully we will soon see a restoration to the grand parties that old Mr Rensfield and his wife used to give before they moved to Bath. I do hope Mr Bingley plans to give parties and galas aplenty, once he is married.” Their mother flashed a knowing look at Jane.
Knowing her sister as she did, Elizabeth caught Jane’s brief sigh for patience. It lasted only an instant before she turned the conversation with a more general wish for Mr Bingley’s comfort and happiness as their neighbour. Elizabeth smiled to herself. Jane never wished to show anyone her private heart, but polite and neutral as her comments had been, she had yet caught something more in them. Janedidlike Mr Bingley, Elizabeth was sure of it, even if she refused to be as obvious as Mrs Bennet would have counselled her to be.
“Come along, girls!” Mrs Bennet called, recalling her to the present moment. “We should not dilly-dally.”
They walked up the limestone steps to the front door, which was swiftly opened for them. The butler invited them in, and their wraps were taken to be hung by several maids.
Mr Bingley and his guests were there to greet them. He smiled broadly, especially when Jane came into view. “Welcome, Mrs Bennet,” he said, turning to their mother. “It is a pleasure to have you under my roof, and all of your charming daughters, of course.”
They all exchanged their bows and greetings. Very interestingly indeed, Jane developed a slight blush upon perceiving how often and how admiringly Mr Bingley’s eyes stayed to her. Elizabeth wondered if her elder sister would be in a perpetual state of redness throughout the evening, for she did not perceive any likelihood of Mr Bingley ceasing to admire her.
It would be a good match, at that. Elizabeth had met few gentlemen who might claim to be as friendly, sensible, and even-tempered as Jane, but Mr Bingley was just such a one.
At that point, Miss Darcy could restrain herself no longer. She flung herself at Elizabeth, embracing her with an enthusiasm that Elizabeth found as charming as it was undoubtedly over-familiar. If all her own younger sister’s offenses against good manners could be equally pleasing, Elizabeth would be delighted.
“Oh, my dear friend, it has been far too long,” Miss Darcy exclaimed. Oddly, her expression did not seem purely delighted. She was glad at their reunion — there could be no doubt of that — and yet there was something else as well, something Elizabeth could not understand.
