Elizabeth raised her brows in question. “An old maid, sir?”
“Yes, Miss Bennet. I do not mean to suggest that a woman must be either beautiful or particularly amusing, but a person ought to possess at least one attractive quality. My poor sister has never excelled in any of the usual feminine accomplishments, nor in conversation either.”
He paused with mock solemnity.
“However, my mother writes that our neighbor, who owns a respectable little estate some six miles from our home, has asked for her hand. According to my mother, they fell in love over geology.”
“Geology, sir?”
“Yes, ma’am. Geology. It appears they have spent the past month in very earnest study together, and my sister is considerably more learned in the subject than her suitor. That circumstance, it seems, captivated him entirely.”
Elizabeth listened, her eyes lively with interest.
“And what think you, Miss Bennet? Is it love, or admiration for an intelligent mind?”
“I believe they are one and the same, sir. I congratulate you. It sounds as though your sister will be happily matched with a gentleman of means who shares her passion. I confess I envy her. We should all be so fortunate.”
“We should indeed, ma’am.”
Georgiana and Kitty watched the couple from their corner. After a moment, Kitty reached for a sheet of paper and a quill and soon bent over it, composing a short note. She handed it to her friend, who read, “I believe Mr. Allen is in love with Lizzy.”
Georgiana took the proffered quill and wrote her reply. Kitty drew nearer to read the words as they appeared upon the page.
“I am truly happy for her. When she is with him, she scarcely notices anything else. I declare, the house might be burning down, and she would still have eyes and ears only for him.”
Kitty lifted her eyes to her friend and smiled broadly. Then she sighed and wrote again.
“He is very handsome. Any woman might fall in love with him.”
Georgiana studied her friend’s face and wrote, “Are you in love with Mr. Allen, too, Kitty?”
Kitty’s eyes scanned over the note and answered in a lowered voice, “No indeed. I have been in love with Alexander Lucas since I was five.”
“Five? How old is he now?”
“He is Jane’s age, two and twenty. But it signifies nothing. He does not even know that I exist in the world. He has been away for many years. First, to a private academy, then to university, and afterward he went abroad upon a grand tour. He is expected home by the end of this year. I have only seen him twice, when he came home from school. He is handsome, Georgiana, and amiable, very much in the style of Mr. Bingley. But he has had eyes only for Jane.”
She sighed. “We once believed he might marry Jane, but he left and has never returned. Which is neither here nor there, for what would a sophisticated gentleman of the world want with a green girl like me?”
The two young ladies spent the remainder of Mr. Allen’s visit whispering together of Kitty’s misgivings and the anticipated return of Mr. Alexander Lucas.
That evening, Georgiana wrote a long letter to her brother. It was filled with news of Elizabeth’s happy courtship and Kitty’s unrequited love. She ended her letter with these words:
Brother, love appears a very perplexing thing. Perhaps you are wise to desire a woman whom you may respect, without the consideration of love. In Lizzy’s case, Mr. Allen seems to love her very much, and in these three short weeks, I believe she has opened her heart to him, for she appears quite happy, and when he is with us, she has eyes for no one else. Yet what of my poor friend who has no hope of ever securing Mr. Lucas? How does one overcome such feelings? Kitty says she has loved him since she was a child. Is it possible for her to move beyond such early, long-held affections? Can affections formed in childhood be genuine?
Darcy sat in the darkened room with Georgiana’s letter in his hand. For nearly half an hour, he had been staring out the window of his bedchamber in Haddon Hall, considering what he had read. Elizabeth Bennet, his Elizabeth, was in love with another. Allen had remained in Hertfordshire for nearly a month and was seriously courting her. How could this be?
She still loved him. He was certain of it, for he had seen her eyes when she refused him. There had been love, pain, and resolve.She had told him then that she would not allow herself to be brought low by him, nor by men of his stamp, arrogant, wealthy men who believed they might purchase anything, even the love of a woman.
What had she said that night? That she would rather remain unmarried than be a rag beneath his feet? She must be deliberately turning away from him.
He laughed bitterly.
But who was the downtrodden one now?
He had been moving through his life as one lost. His future had become a bleak prospect. What were money, position, even life itself without love? Without the love of a good woman? Without Elizabeth.
But what was to be done now? It was too late. She was in love with another.
