“Unfortunately, my dear friend, I must refuse your proposal and make way for a younger lady.”
“And who is this musician you wish me to hear?” he asked, as they sipped their glasses of sparkling wine.
“She is almost as talented as our dear Georgiana—in fact, they had the same master—and she is capable of playing Haydn’s complete works with elegance and feeling. But I still expect you to bring Miss Darcy to sing one evening.”
“Georgiana is not yet in London,” he replied quickly. He could not imagine his sister among the people who strolled through the hall. They were his friends, and he respected them, but Lady Axton’s salons were not the place for his sixteen-year-old sister.
“You are mistaken,” Lady Axton said, as though she had read his thoughts. “There are many young ladies who attend here with their parents.”
“Perhaps they have already been presented at court.”
“Yes, they have. Why not ask Lady Eleanor Matlock to accompany Miss Darcy to Her Majesty’s Drawing-Room in January?”
“It is already arranged.”
“Splendid! She will curtsey to Her Majesty, and then she may attend parties and balls, and be eligible for marriage.”
“Marriage?” he almost exclaimed, causing a few spectators to turn and call for silence.
Again, Lady Axton tapped him gently with her fan and then pointed towards the pianoforte.
As he looked more closely at the young lady playing, his heart nearly stopped in astonishment. For a moment, hebelieved her to be Elizabeth Bennet. He remained at the back of the room, striving to recover himself, unable to understand how he had been so mistaken. Perhaps it was the figure, or the dark hair arranged in a style resembling Elizabeth’s. Soon, however, he perceived that the resemblance was slight; yet his heart gave a dangerous leap at the mere possibility.
Listening to the music, he recalled Elizabeth playing one evening at Netherfield. Standing at a distance and determined not to admire her performance, he had been wholly unprepared for the feeling she expressed. He remembered her white dress, so simple and unaffected, and the blue ribbon that held her hair. At the end of the aria, when she rose, his heart had ached at the expression of her countenance, still lost in the music. And to think that, only moments later, he had silently agreed with Caroline Bingley’s sharply whispered criticism of Elizabeth’s technique. He had inclined his head in accordance with Miss Bingley’s remarks—though he knew himself to be insincere. In truth, he had admired her interpretation and her courage in playing as she felt, rather than as strict rules demanded. He could not bring himself to praise her; instead, he had stood near a window, observing the room with a studied indifference she could not have failed to notice.
Now, surrounded by the music at Axton Hall, he forced such thoughts away. Elizabeth was not suitable for him. He could not understand why her image troubled him so persistently. She had no distinction, and he could never imagine her accompanying him among his friends. He lived in a strange contradiction, as though two selves contended within him: one despising her family and connections, refusing to believe she could be different from them; the other striving to defend her, and dwelling upon those qualities no other woman present possessed.
“What do you think of Miss Flora Baylis?” Lady Axton asked; and it took Darcy a moment to understand whom she meant.
“She appears gifted,” he said; though, in truth, the only merit he could discover in her was a slight resemblance to Elizabeth.
It had been more than a week since they had left Hertfordshire, but his thoughts of Elizabeth, instead of fading with time and distance, seemed only to increase. And Bingley was no better. The only occupation he enjoyed was their morning ride. He sought solitude, and any gathering made him uneasy. In the evenings, he preferred to remain in the library with a book in his hand, though he scarcely read.
Three days after their arrival, his butler announced that his house was ready to receive him; yet he could not resolve to go. He was unable to decide anything—to visit friends, to attend a party, or to go to the theatre or opera. Even a conversation with friends, such as the colonel, required an effort. Thus, he remained at Darcy House until the evening of Lady Axton’s party.
Darcy was uneasy at the thought of Bingley living alone; yet at the same time, he was relieved that his friend had at last made some decision—even one so small as returning to his own house.
He still attempted to dissuade him from leaving the next day, but Bingley only shook his head. “Miss Darcy is returning,” he said—an argument that made Darcy smile.
“And Georgiana will disturb us greatly!” he replied lightly; but Bingley was not in spirits to perceive the jest.
“She must prepare for the Drawing-Room,” Bingley continued.
“Georgiana has her own apartments, and she is a gentle girl who will not disturb us.”
But nothing could persuade him to remain.
“Promise me, at least, that you will join us for our morning rides,” Darcy said the next day, as his friend prepared to depart.
Chapter 3
Georgiana was to be presented at court on January 18. More than a month before,The Gazettehad announced: “Her Majesty’s birthday, which falls on January 18, will be celebrated by a Drawing-Room at St James’s Palace.”
It was the most important Drawing-Room of the year, and only young ladies of the nobility could participate. Lady Catherine and Lady Eleanor, as Lady Matlock was called within her family, were accepted as presenters for Miss Anne de Bourgh and Miss Georgiana Darcy.
Anne de Bourgh had rather passed that ideal moment between sixteen and twenty when young ladies of the nobility were presented at court. Still, in her case, an exception was made, as she was not known to the ton, having lived almost entirely secluded in Kent, at Rosings, the estate she had inherited from her father. However, it was managed by her mother, who made no attempt to involve her. Fortunately for Anne, Lord Matlock decided otherwise. And he knew how to impose his decision upon his sister, who agreed reluctantly, hoping that after the presentation they would return home and that their life would continue as it had in the years sinceher husband’s death—she the mistress of Rosings, while her daughter remained a pale figure with no voice of her own.
Georgiana’s situation was the opposite. She was almost too young, but Darcy agreed at his uncle’s insistence, who dreamed of seeing his two nieces married into illustrious families that would further add to their family’s prestige in the ton.
