“It is the truth. Mr Jones says the same with his eyes every time he looks on me.”
“Mr Jones can only dispense and compound. He is no better than a village quack with patent medicines!”
Darcy had the good grace to feel embarrassed when she stared at him with disapproving, sunken eyes. He knew rationally that it hardly mattered at this point, that Mr Jones the apothecary could do no more than the finest physician in town.
“Fitzwilliam, you are unhappy here, and it has made you disagreeable.”
“I worry for you, is all.” He worried for his own wretched soul, too, but not nearly as much as for her health.
She gave a long cough before answering. “’Tis not all. You need not stay. Your reputation is not beyond redemption, after all.”
“And neither is yours.” He gave her a weak smile. “That is why we are in this dismal, secluded place, denying ourselves our nearest connexions and greatest comforts. Besides that, you cannot imagine that I would leave you.”
His sister had by now raised herself to her feet and wrapped a shawl around her narrow shoulders. “I am so sorry.” Georgianaaddressed her own shoes. “My wickedness and folly have cost you much.”
“Come, my dear, Mr Jones charged me with keeping you easy and cheerful.” Darcy embraced his sister, pressed a kiss to her head, and led her to the door to the garden. Dutifully, or perhaps merely lacking the strength to argue, she came along. “Too much excitement is not good for you.”
“Neither is too much seclusion. I am lonely, however much I might deserve it.”
“You do not deserve this!” Darcy controlled his temper, knowing his anger would weaken her spirits. “I could hire a companion now. We are supposed to be a brother and sister of limited means, but now that?—”
“I would rather be alone than be pitied by a stranger you hired to tend to me. Besides, the new maid gossips too much as it is. She makes me long for Mrs Reynolds and home.”
After all this time, they had just now made it to the trees that ringed the house. “You know why we could not go home after Ramsgate, for all that mattered in the end.” Georgiana began to cry softly, and Darcy cringed at his mistake before whispering an apology.
“I just wish for something to occupy my mind now that—something to occupy me now and then. If you went into society, you could at least amuse me with anecdotes of our neighbours.”
“Society! Here?” Darcy barked a laugh. “I think not.”
“If there is a public ball, you could tell me about the musicians and the dances called and the gowns your partners?—”
“An assembly, here, in the spring? Good God! The lesser gentry, the professions, and the genteel trades will be the best this society has to offer. It would be insupportable.”
“We are thought to have only a few hundred a year and no connexions?—”
She coughed heavily, bringing a handkerchief to her mouth, and when she pulled it away, Darcy saw it was tinged red. He handed her his; he had been in the habit of carrying as many as could fit in his pockets.
“Have you any of the draught Mr Jones made for you?” She shookher head. “Let me see you to the house, and after I take care of a few matters, I will walk to Meryton.”
“His shopboy will bring more on Monday,” she choked out as she leant on him. “You need not go on my account.”
“I do not have a footman to send, the maid will never finish her work if I send her, and you cannot wait that long. I shall go myself after I see you to your bed.”
Lady Lucas,her aunt Philips, Mrs Long, Mary, and her mother were still gossiping. Lydia and Maria Lucas were at the table ripping a bonnet to pieces. Elizabeth sat on the other side of the room with her work. She could not join in the conversation with the married ladies as she had no home and husband, and she did not feel equal to joining the chatter of two girls discussing a militia regiment that had wintered in Meryton.
“Lizzy, did I tell you that the Bakers are as usual?” Her mother continued to try to include her. “They are greatly happy since their daughter Sophia finally married Mr Beverly.”
“I did not think it was usual for Mrs Baker to be happy.” Silence followed, and Elizabeth realised her thought about their unpleasant neighbour had been voiced aloud. “I meant, I remember Mrs Baker was not well when I left.”
“Mrs Baker is always unwell,” said her mother. “She has a weak heart and a feeble constitution for so large a woman. If she did not lose her temper so often, it would do her good.”
Mrs Philips reached for a plate, and her mother passed it before Mary could. Mary huffed in displeasure.
“Mr Robinson was heard being asked by another gentleman if he thought there were many pretty girls in Meryton,” said her aunt, “and Mr Robinson said that he thought Miss King a handsome girl.” Her aunt Philips kept her parlour windows up and made it a point to share everything she heard.
“He might not think that if he knew she nearly eloped in Januarywith that officer,” her mother answered. “I suspect he wanted the ten thousand pounds she inherited the month before.”
“Mr Robinson needs spectacles. She is a nasty, freckled thing. Her inheritance is her only charm!” cried Lydia.
