Darcy’s jaw hurt from clenching it to hold back the details of a fine house in Berkeley Square. “And you are impertinent and assuming.”
“I prefer the country to town.” Georgiana blushed under their sudden attention, and cleared her throat. He had forgotten the poor girl in the midst of his own annoyance.
“I quite agree, Miss Darcy.” Miss Bennet looked a little ashamed, and he felt the same. He was not so pretentious that he could not be gentlemanly to a lady, and his sister’s sole acquaintance.
“Yes, Hertfordshire is peaceful, and the country air is beneficial to my sister.”
“On this point, our feelings coincide. I would always prefer to be in the country with my morals uncorrupted.”
There was a playfulness in her manner that had not been therebefore. “Do you think there is virtue in nature and vice in an urban existence? What a simplistic philosophy.”
“I delight in the natural scenery, and I am not ashamed of that. You cannot deny that morals are more firmly held outside of London or Bath. Perhaps the beauty of the country inspires greater decency in its inhabitants.”
“You sound like a proponent of Gilpin and the picturesque. Does the fair meadow or winding hedgerows have value only in how it looks?”
He had expected to silence an ignorant girl, but Miss Bennet was quick with an answer. “I see its usefulness, not just something to be formed into a pretty picture. Why can one not have both?”
“You would unite beauty with utility?”
“It is why men marry pretty wives.”
Darcy blinked. He had expected, at best, a platitude in reply, but Miss Bennet had more wit than he had supposed. They continued in this vein for Georgiana’s benefit, who followed the conversation even though she did not join it. Miss Bennet was the daughter of a gentleman; she had the manners and the education marks of the station, and she was a person of notable intellectual endowments.
As soon as Georgiana’s drooping eyelids stayed closed and her head settled into her pillow, Miss Bennet stood. “I intend to call on your sister again, even if you are at home. As much as I like conversation with a clever thinker, I could do without the incivility that preceded it.”
Darcy rose and opened the parlour door himself, long-now accustomed to having no footman and an overworked maid. “Was there not some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? You came here, uninvited, and presumed your acquaintance on an ill girl whilst her guardian was away.”
“I have already defended my calling on your sister to my family. I hope I will not have to plead my case with you.”
“I suspect your pleading would be more akin to haranguing and obstinacy.”
To his surprise, his honesty did not offend her; she laughed. “Thatis more accurate than I should admit on so short, and indifferent, an acquaintance. Why would you not want your sister to have visitors?”
He could hardly say it was because they had too many secrets to hide. “I do not comprehend your motives. What do you gain by befriending her?”
“Motives? How suspicious you are! The vulnerable must be cared for. A woman trapped at home—any person, in truth,” she corrected quickly, “needs companionship, someone to sympathise with them. I like Miss Darcy, and she needs a friend and something to think on other than her illness and the four walls of that parlour. You clearly have affection for her, but that is not enough to ensure her survival.”
“Miss Bennet, do you not see? At this point, I am told to think only of her comfort.” Darcy willed her to overlook the way his voice broke, and although she said nothing, the compassionate look in her eyes said enough.She seems to have a sincere esteem for Georgiana.“I would do anything for her. Georgiana desires your friendship, and if your presence is a comfort to her, then I must accept that you may come as often as you like.”
CHAPTER SIX
Georgiana Darcy spent too much time alone for Elizabeth’s liking. She needed more than someone to just give her medicines. Mr Darcy loved his sister and did his best to provide for her, and Miss Darcy enjoyed having him near, but he was a stern, reserved man, and his interests often took him away from home. She could at least give the girl friendship and kindness.She felt a kinship to a young, lonely girl reliant on a male relative.
She entered the apothecary’s shop where Mr Jones’s partner, Mr Lynn, was helping the apprentice roll pills, and Mrs Baker was at the counter complaining about her shortness of breath until she was red in the face. She made Mr Darcy seem agreeable by comparison.
Elizabeth had time to doubt the necessity of seeing the apothecary while Mrs Baker blamed Mr Jones for her sweating sickness along with her other paralytic heart complaints.
“Mrs Baker, you have your pills, and I would guard you against mental agitation.” Mr Jones’s voice was calm, although he looked as though he wished to shrug his shoulders or rest his forehead on the counter. “If you have no bilious or feverish complaints, I will call on you on Monday, as always.”
Mrs Baker must be in fine health if she has the strength to berate the person she came to consult and call his credentials into question.The apothecary bore it all, knowing, as did all of Meryton, that for all her raging against him, Mrs Baker could not go a week without demanding Mr Jones’s attention.
She turned from the counter, and glared at Elizabeth. “How d’ye do, Miss Bennet? My, how old are you now? Have you not managed to catch a husband like your sisters?”
Elizabeth endeavoured to answer without raising her voice. “How do you do, ma’am? Please, do not let me keep you from your errands.” Mrs Baker may be ill, but she was too ill-natured for Elizabeth to make attempts at good humour. Mrs Baker huffed and shuffled away, and Elizabeth approached the counter.
“Mr Jones, I wondered if I might consult with you?”
“Certainly. I can call at Longbourn at your convenience.”
