Naturally, there were no after-dinner drinks either. Elizabeth had arranged for expensive hot chocolate to be served instead, paired with tiny honey wafer biscuits which Mr. Bingley exclaimed over (with very brief joy, until his mouth was full and ecstatic silence was required).
Miss Bingley did not dare repeat her snide asides where the gentlemen might overhear, but in a parting shot to Elizabeth complained about having to keep ‘country hours’ as she stalked out of the room.
Elizabeth sighed and rubbed her eyes. Miss Bingley was not just unpleasant, she wasexhausting.
It was clear that they were not destined to be friends.
Chapter 43
Mr. Bingley was the first person Elizabeth had met, outside of the household, who had known Miss Darcy before her illness. More, he was the only person who had knew about the foul events that had led to her wretched choice. He knew details which even Elizabeth was not privy to. They were cold, wretched facts, spilled like bile from the lips of a drunk and desperate man. Yet, that man was Bingley’s closest friend, and so he listened with compassion.
Bingley did not encourage Darcy to speak, nor did he ask questions. He was there when Darcy needed to weep and spent long days at his side when he stared blindly into the abyss.
He concentrated on the brother. Bingley cared deeply for Georgiana but was sensible enough to know that he could not help her. He could do far more for Darcy, even with Caroline’s scathing objections. Bingley held Georgiana tenderly in his thoughts, but he held Darcy in his arms.
When Darcy wrote to him of Georgiana’s recent recovery, Bingley was delighted. He sent a huge box to Pemberley filled with embroidery silks, creamy paper and watercolour paints, ribbons and sheet music, marzipan and an exquisite Indian shawl. Save for the shawl, the gifts were all pointless, but he hadno notion of that. He only thought of the kinds of gifts an invalid might like.
Darcy had not the heart to tell Bingley the truth. He was afraid that if he told his friend that the gifts were inappropriate, he would break Bingley’s heart. After the admission would come the explanation - that recovery, for Georgiana, was of the spirit but not the body. She could no more use embroidery silks than she could climb a mountain.
Darcy discussed his deception with his wife. She understood his feelings, but now that she had met Bingley, she suspected that he was stronger than Darcy believed. He gave off an air of oblivious friendliness, but was a realist, nonetheless. Jane had confided that Mr. Bingley had been the one to comfort her in London, long after Caroline and Louisa had decided that she should ‘stop sulking and move on’. His advice was often couched in naivety (he expressed an outrageous opinion, at one point, that Louisa had married Mr. Hurst out of love and not for his fortune), but it was kindly meant.
Still, Elizabeth was nervous about Bingley’s reaction to seeing Georgiana. He expected to see the sweet girl he had known as a wide-eyed child. She had been very young the first time Darcy had invited Bingley to Pemberley and had quickly grown attached to her brother’s ridiculous new friend.
No doubt Bingley’s idea of her convalescence involved a sunny bay window, a high-backed chair and an elegant lace blanket warming an elfin waif. She would have a dainty sampler in her lap. Her fingers would be weak on the keys of the fortepiano, but all that would do was make the music more delicate.
The truth was far different, of course.
The music room was long forgotten. Mrs. Reynolds and Elizabeth had repurposed it into a smoking room the moment it was vacated. But the heavy weight in the air had not been made by the darkness and dust. It followed Georgiana wherever she went. The ladies had done their best to make her bedroom light and pleasant, but they could not work miracles. Miss Darcy was like an iron weight on a silk sheet, pulling all creases in.
That was the young lady whom Bingley had asked to see.
Elizabeth asked Darcy if Jane might also be introduced to Georgiana. She would not have faulted him for refusing; Jane was a comparative stranger, and Darcy had no notion of her kindness. He had only seen her as a weary victim, with her spirit almost completely extinguished. During their honeymoon he had told Elizabeth that he did not want Georgiana to be exposed to unhappiness. Surely, he would want Jane to stay away.
But Darcy agreed at once. He even suggested that Jane met Georgiana before Bingley.
“Bingley is terrible at hiding his feelings. He may upset Georgiana without realising it. Your sister seems far more circumspect and can mediate that.”
“Circumspect?” Lizzie asked in genuine surprise, “She has no talent for deception, Darcy. She is the most honest person I know.”
“That is my meaning exactly. Miss Bennet will not pretend that Georgiana is anything other than herself. She will not think of the past, only the present, and she is patient and gentle. Bingley, on the other hand, tries much too hard. He is like… have you ever seen a spaniel, Elizabeth? They cannot help barking when they are surprised, but even then, they wag their tails as if their lives depend on looking happy.”
It was a patronising comparison indeed! Alas for Bingley, it was very apt.
After a serene morning, where Jane and Georgiana quickly started sharing sweet smiles, there was a knock at the door. Bingley bounded into the room like a puppy.
Georgiana would not raise her eyes from the floor. She did not see the undisguised horror on her old friend’s face or witness the step he instinctively made towards the door.
Bingley had been given a simple, firm instruction:do not lie.He swallowed hard and met Mrs. Darcy’s eyes. She gave him an encouraging smile and then knelt beside Georgiana.
“My dearest,” she murmured, “Mr. Bingley has come to see you.”
“Charles.” Bingley blurted out, stepping forward with sudden courage. After his initial shock he rallied remarkably well, “You always call me Charles, don’t you Puddles?”
“Puddles?” Jane asked, smiling. Bingley looked at her, for a moment distracted by the new softness in Miss Bennet’s expression and then laughed.
“The first time I came here, Georgiana wanted to show me around the gardens. Her governess warned her to be ladylike, but there was a puddle she could not resist stepping in. It was much deeper than she thought! She feared that Miss Channel would scold her, so I convinced the grumpy old bat that I had pushed my new little friend into the mud. She scoldedmeinstead, didn’t she Georgie? I am sure my ears are still ringing!”
Georgiana’s eyes swam slowly up, as lovely and bright as he remembered. Bingley was relieved to see the familiar sparkle in them. His tense shoulders relaxed.
