“We are having an evening party tomorrow at Lucas Lodge, and I insist you and your sister join us. A small group of friends, none of the officers, just a few neighbours. I have not seen you outside of church since I persuaded you to join us for a dinner in February.”
“I am much obliged to you for your invitation, but it is not in my power to accept it.”
He will not be missed.
“Three months is too long without some society, and your sister is also welcome. These lovely ladies will be in attendance and would be pleased to make her acquaintance. Girls, may I present to you Mr Darcy, lately of Netherfield Lodge?”
The look on Mr Darcy’s face suggested that this was an impertinent freedom. Elizabeth knew she had fallen from being a daughter of MrBennet to only a sister to Mrs Collins, but who was this rude man who did not keep a carriage to refuse to be introduced to her?
“Miss Lydia Bennet, you might have seen in church, but Miss Bennet is lately returned from her relations in town. I daresay she spends half her time in London.”
Mr Darcy’s eyes widened in interest slightly, and then settled back into their critical observation as Elizabeth and Lydia curtsied. Lydia ignored him, eyeing a shop window display. Sir William did not seem to heed the prevailing gossip, but he was overly sociable. Scandalous rumours or not, Elizabeth could tell this Mr Darcy was a discourteous man. The silence stretched long enough to slip into awkwardness.
“Sir William, perhaps we might step aside to let Mr Darcy be on his way?”
“Maybe he could climb over the gate like you used to do, Lizzy!” Lydia cried.
Sir William laughed, while Elizabeth gasped in mortification. Mr Darcy looked indignant while Lydia said she simply had to peer in a shop window and left her to defend her dignity.
“I remember a time when you hung on the swinging gate as each passing traveller paid their toll,” Sir William said, laughing. “Did not the gatekeeper once have to help you down when your foot got stuck between the rail and the?—”
“I assure you, I have not swung on a gate nor climbed over one in ten years.”
Sir William seemed to finally realise her embarrassment and Mr Darcy’s disgust.
“Mr Darcy, you ought not to judge our brightest Hertfordshire jewel from childhood accounts. Miss Bennet, who as you can see is a genteel lady, has the liveliest of spirits and the wittiest mind. Time spent in town, no doubt, has added to her charm. When you join us tomorrow evening, you can hear her play something new from one of the musical evenings she no doubt attended this winter. You see, it is quite the settled thing; I do beg for you to join us.”
He is making it worse.
“Did you say, sir, that this lady was in town all winter?”
Sir William bowed. Elizabeth met Mr Darcy’s eye, expecting him to withdraw his own; she instead found him an acute observer.What is so reprehensible about me to draw his notice?He was the man with the notorious reputation who, if rumours were to be believed, had installed his mistress in his own house.If he lived with a mistress, he would have a cheerier disposition.
“Although my sister must decline on account of her delicate health, I accept with pleasure your invitation.”
Elizabeth tried, likely in vain, to conceal her shock; it need not have mattered because Sir William’s lengthy civilities occupied all of Mr Darcy’s attention until the older man finally stepped aside to allow him to pass between the posts and move beyond the toll gate.
“Equal parts lemon juice,fine honey, syrup of poppies. Four ounces of each, simmered over a gentle fire?” His cook read the prescription. “I suppose you would like Miss Darcy to have this now? It will hold back your dinner.”
Darcy tried to remember a time when he had an enviable cook, three diligent kitchen maids, and a housekeeper to manage this part of the house with precision, efficiency, and courtesy. He had been in this place so long he had almost become inured to incompetence. “Miss Darcy’s cough is troublesome, and it cannot wait.”
Darcy then left to see Georgiana, who was propped upright in bed with a book. He had heard her noisy, difficult breath before he opened her door.
“Mr Jones has prescribed a stronger draught that might compose you to sleep and abate the sense of some of your pain. He plans to see you himself in a few days’ time.”
“On account of the wasting disease, or the other matter?”
This euphemism was for his benefit, he knew. She could not know it, but guilt struck him with every fresh reminder. Thinking of the “other matter” tore at his heart. Speaking of it, and allowing his anger to come through with every word, would only distress the sister he had been told to keep easy. “I suspect the other matter has had no lasting effects at this point. It is your lungs that are the concern.”
“I am weary of the bloodletting and purgatives. Not even the novelty of leeches or cupping or blistering could make my days—” Georgiana coughed, and then rested her head back against the pillows.
“I encountered Sir William Lucas in Meryton, the knight who feels his distinction too strongly and who is as fond of company as the sound of his own voice. He pressed me to join him tomorrow evening, and I accepted.”
Georgiana patted his hand. “There is less reason to be retired from society now. I am glad you shall have some company.”
“It is not for my sake!” he cried, surprised she thought he was eager to go. “I suspect it will be a punishment. However, I met two sisters who will be in attendance, gentleman’s daughters, although of no consequence. The one who appears to be your age was boisterous, but the other more genteel. She spent the winter in town, and although she is neither rich nor handsome, her spencer was a style I have not seen you wear, and she plays the instrument.”
“You will learn of these ladies? Listen to the songs they play, take notice of the gowns they wear, and tell me if they dance?” Darcy nodded while Georgiana gave him a wide smile. “I have not heard music in so long; you must tell me what she plays. Oh, Fitzwilliam, you are such a good brother!”
