“Well, there you are right. I do know that it is not always what one knows, but who one knows, that makes a difference in business.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Exactly. That is why I do not like to take too much of the credit. If Mr Tilney had not givenme a chance, we might be sitting in a very different set of circumstances today. Indeed, you might have had to take my mother and all of my sisters under your wing, until something could have been done to help us get back on our feet.”
He rolled his eyes heavenward. “You know I love my dear sister. And we would have taken you all in under our roof if it had been necessary.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice, as though fearful Mrs Bennet might overhear, even all the way in Hertfordshire. “I am glad, however, that it was not. My sister does much better with a place of her own. And I rejoice for my sister and all my nieces that your earnings permitted a larger and finer cottage than her funds alone would have allowed.”
Her uncle’s meaning was not difficult to catch, despite his welcome diplomacy in expressing it. Elizabeth knew very well how her mother was, especially when she was having one of her “nervous spells”. If they had all been forced to move to London for a time, Elizabeth did not know if any of them would still have their sanity intact. The Gardiner’s townhouse, though very comfortable, was not large enough to absorb five sisters and their excitable mother.
“I point that out only to say that I never want to take this success for granted. It can all be taken away in a matter of moments. People are fickle. I am grateful to my readers for their support. But who is to say that the third novel is not a complete disaster? I might only sell ten copies, and then where will we be?”
“That will not be the case, my dear. Mr Tilney is right. You have much more experience now, and you will be better able to deliver what your readers want.” Her uncle set about choosing a few of the delicate pastries that had been delivered with their tea. He hummed in approval as he tasted it.
Elizabeth chose a pastry, but either the food was too rich or she was too anxious to really enjoy it. She knew she should try to take her uncle’s advice and focus on the success of the moment. But she knew all too well that her success was not assured. Her readers, and her readers alone, would decide her fate.
Chapter 4
“I am so glad you are here now, brother. I have missed you dreadfully,” Georgiana beamed at him from the other side of the carriage. Darcy grinned back, his contentment equalling her own. Their Christmas had been most pleasant, full of the company of good friends and family. Though Darcy hated to admit it, the absence of Miss Bingley had been a particular relief. It hardly seemed gentlemanly to think such things of a lady, not to mention a good friend’s sister, but it was so. Not until Darcy left the Netherfield party had he realised the toll her manners had taken on him. The combination of obsequiousness to himself and smug superiority to others was most unpleasant.
Georgiana was a breath of fresh air in comparison. His little sister was growing up, but she did not have a scheming bone in her body. To Darcy’s great relief, she seemed to have recovered from the debacle that had occurred at Ramsgate the previous summer. He was not sure how she had come out of her shame and self-doubt so quickly, but he was glad to see she was on the other side of her grief. The man who had broken her heart and lied to her to get his hands on her fortune had done more damage than he could ever know. Georgiana had been so impressionable back then. She had given her heart to the blackguard without reservation, only to learn that not every man — he would not call Wickham a gentleman — had her bestinterests at heart. For a time, Georgiana had gone too far in correcting her error. She should not cloister herself away and feel as if she did not have a future because of one near mistake.
Surely, Mrs Annesley’s kind heart and good sense must have a good deal to do with it. She was a most dedicated companion, and most deserving of the day off she was presently enjoying. Indeed, Mrs Annesley deserved much more. That Georgiana’s spirits were much improved was a very welcome blessing.
“Thank you for taking me out shopping today. It was just what I needed,” Georgiana went on. “I do hope this last shop has what we are looking for!”
“This Mrs Laurence is quite the famous author, I take it?” Darcy asked. He was not one for reading silly Gothic novels, but if it brought his sister enjoyment, he saw no harm in it. “Her publisher must not have thought the book would do very well.”
“Not at all! I heard they printed a thousand copies, and there still were not enough to go around. Mrs Laurence, whoever she may be, is on her way to being one of the most widely read authors of our time. I hope I can meet her someday.”
“I doubt she goes out much, Georgiana. She is probably an old spinster who spends all her time dreaming up Gothic thrills to terrify young ladies.”
“How can you know that? Perhaps she is a married woman who has travelled all over the world with her husband, or a member of theton. She might be anyone.” Georgiana frowned, picking at her gloves — a sure sign that he had offended her.
Darcy took no offense. On the contrary, it was rather delightful to see Georgiana having recovered her spirits enough to contradict him. The Georgiana of three months ago wouldhave meekly agreed to whatever he said, no matter her own feelings. “I know her first novel was welcome entertainment to you, especially while I have been gone so long on business and with my long stay at Netherfield with the Bingleys. I did not mean to diminish your enjoyment of her work.”
“Well, thank you. I mean only to say that you should not judge her work before you read it. Would you like to have my copy of her first novel? I am sure you will find it very diverting. Perhaps you will even learn something about the female mind,” Georgiana suggested. Was that even a glint of mischief in her eyes?
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “No, thank you. I think I can learn all I need to know of the female mind from you, dear sister.”
Georgiana laughed at that, as he had hoped. She looked out the window, growing almost too excited to sit still as the carriage pulled up to the last shop they were due to try that afternoon. “I simply must have her second book! Oh, how I hope they have at least one copy left!”
Darcy climbed out of the carriage first to help her over the slight berm of slushy snow that had been piled against the curb. He offered Georgiana his arm, and they walked into the shop arm in arm. When they entered, a little bell rang out above the door, announcing their presence to the shopkeeper. A rotund older man came out from behind the shelves and greeted them. “Is there anything in particular you are looking for this afternoon, sir?” The man’s cheeks were rosy red with warmth, and he looked like a jolly fellow.
Darcy turned to his sister and allowed her to step forward. “We are looking for a new novel that has just come out,The Mystery of Castle Skybree—”
“Ah, the new one by Mrs Laurence?” The shopkeeper shook his head sadly. “Perhaps I should have a sign painted. I sold out early this morning. I do apologise, Miss.”
“Sold out?” Georgiana asked, shoulders slumping. “Are you certain? Would you have any in the back that might not have been set out yet?”
“I’m very sorry, Miss, but no. I put out the rest of what I had, which was only twelve, this morning.”
Georgiana’s mouth turned down into a pout for a moment before she rallied. “Do you know of any other shops that might still have some, sir?”
The man shook his head and scratched at a bald spot as he thought. “As far as I’ve heard, every bookshop in London has sold out.” He sighed heavily. “You’re not the first lady who has come in asking after the new book. And I daresay you will not be the last. I assume the publisher will have to do a second printing, but I am afraid you may wait a good long time for that. I do apologise.”
Georgiana was bitterly disappointed, but there was nothing to be done. They left the shop and climbed back into the carriage, even though the shopkeeper had tried to suggest several other female authors she might enjoy. It was Mrs Laurence’s new book, or nothing.
Darcy hated to see her so downtrodden. And he hated that he could not provide her with what she wanted so desperately. Georgiana so rarely asked for anything for herself that he hated to say no to her on the rare occasions she made a request.
As they rounded a corner, Darcy saw a neatly lettered sign advertising a teahouse. Everything about the place, from itselegant appearance to the fashionable patrons visible through the large windows, proclaimed its popularity.
