“Are you well, Georgiana?”
Her cousin’s gentle voice broke through the dark cloud that had descended over Georgiana the instant she saw Miss Bennet. It enveloped her as though it were a shroud. She bit her lip and nodded.
“Is it very difficult even to see her? You know your brother will do nothing to cause you injury, and he tells me he is avoiding her and has given up any notion of them marrying. I have no reason to suppose he is being untruthful.”
He patted her hand which still rested on his arm. Part of her wanted to separate herself from him, run back to Berkeley Square, and hide in her chamber, but she knew that would be cruel when he was doing his best to be considerate of her feelings. Besides, the thought of being alone in the park, or anywhere in public, frightened her.
“Knowing she knowshim, is his sister, when I see her—it is too much. I know how important Mr Bingley’s friendship is to my brother, and I am trying to be comfortable with Mrs Bingley for his sake, but it is worse with Miss Bennet.”
“It is because you know Darcy wanted to marry her, to make you accept her as his wife. He ought to have known it was a terrible idea.”
Georgiana said nothing for a while. When she had first met Miss Bennet, she had liked her a great deal. She had even thought that it would be a rather wonderful thing if her brother married her. He would be happy, and she might have the sort of sister she had always dreamt of. Her cousin’s objection to the match, along with that of her aunts and uncle, made her realise she was wrong to ever look upon it with favour. As kind as she was, the social gap between Miss Bennet’s family and that of the Fitzwilliams and Darcys meant such a union was inappropriate, just as her own withhimwould have been. Georgiana would die if she was forced to be sister tohissister.
However, seeing her brother’s misery made her hate herself. It was because of her, and she was to blame for all the family upset since the autumn—no, dating back to last summer, when she had so stupidly believedhisfalse proclamations of love. Worst of all, Fitzwilliam and her brother were fighting, as much as they tried to hide it from her. They had been the best of friends, but their connexion was destroyed.
“I wish you and my brother were not angry with each other,” she said, her voice quiet and tentative as always.
Colonel Fitzwilliam squeezed her hand. “Do not concern yourself with us. We shall be frustrated and disagreeable and believe the other is being unreasonable for a little longer, then this period will pass, and we shall be friends again. It will happen before you know it. Our only concern is you, and seeing you improve will encourage us to forget every difference of opinion we have ever had. You are doing so well, sweetheart, and that makes him, me, all of your family so very happy. Think only of what you need to continue to recover, and let Darcy and me worry about everything else, including our connexion.”
Once again, Georgiana nodded. She kept her eyes on her boots as they completed their walk.
“Is something amiss, Brother? Y-you are not happy.”
Darcy looked up from his almost full breakfast plate to his sister. In truth, he had been thinking about Elizabeth. He tried to keep his distress from Georgiana, knowing she would blame herself and it would interfere with her recovery, which he believed was proceeding well. He had accepted that Lady Catherine had been the one to tell her of his intentions, and he would never forgive his aunt for giving her the idea that, should he and Elizabeth marry, Georgiana would be thrown into Wickham’s company regularly. It was false, but once the notion was put into her head, his sister was incapable of banishing it.
I did the right thing by giving up Elizabeth, as much as I suffer for it. Georgiana needs more time to heal, and shemustbe my chief concern.
Aloud, he said, “I am perfectly well. Do not worry yourself over me.”
“Fitzwilliam and I saw her, Miss B-Bennet, during our walk the other day. Did he tell you?”
This caught Darcy’s attention, and he stared at her. It was the first time she had willingly mentioned Elizabeth since learning of her youngest sister’s elopement. Was she remembering how much she had liked her? Had the shock of learning of the Wickhams’ marriage lessened? Would she tell him that she would gladly accept Elizabeth as her sister-in-law? Darcyprayed such a day would come to pass, but it was soon evident it would not be this day.
“He did not,” he said in answer to her question. “Did you speak to her?”
Georgiana shrugged. “Our cousin did. I…” She reached for her neck and pinched herself, digging her nails into her flesh.
Quickly, Darcy stood and went to her, covering her hand with his own. “Let us not talk of her further,” he said, hoping he adequately masked his disappointment and being forced to acknowledge that her objections had in no way lessened.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Over the next days, Elizabeth visited Mrs Gardiner, occupied her time with new friends, and amused herself as much as possible. Bingley made a habit of introducing Elizabeth to his acquaintances, promoting her as someone with whom they could have a ‘splendidly good conversation’. He once remarked that it was a shame she and Mr Darcy were not on better terms.
“Last summer, I believed you had become friends, but now you do not seem to have much to say to each other,” he had said one afternoon.
He sounded disappointed, and Elizabeth was struck with regret; he did not understand because she was deliberately keeping the truth from him. Yet, she continued to believe it was for the best.
Mr Darcy and I shall continue exchanging stilted greetings where I attempt to keep my feelings hidden and not see the warmth in his eyes. Surely, in time, it will become easier. If I keep myself busy with new people and activities, perhaps I shall cease thinking of him so much.
In her heart, she knew it would not be so easy. The looks he gave her when they met were like those she had come to expect during the glorious weeks when she had anticipated marrying him. How could that be? He had decided against her, and it should be reflected in his behaviour! Once, she had spent several minutes watching him speak to Miss Reed and her mother. There was something in the way he stood and the expression on his face that was so kind and caring. It reminded her what it was like to have his attention all to herself and to know that he was truly listening and interested in what she had to say. Not questioning if it was right or not, she did not attempt to avoid him but neither did she seek him out. If nothing else, she would not want anyone to comment on her disliking her brother’s dearest friend. Their conversations, when they took place, were brief and polite.
Shortly before the end of March, Bingley introduced Elizabeth to Mr Robert Grey, a friend of some ten years, who owned an estate slightly smaller than Netherfield in Northamptonshire. They were at a party at which conversation was to be the main entertainment. It was a risky choice on the part of the hostess, and Elizabeth was not sure the evening would be a success. After meeting Mr Grey, she no longer regretted attending, even if others did. He was dark-haired and handsome—though not as good-looking as Mr Darcy—and after just a few minutes’ conversation, Elizabeth decided his company would be no hardship.
Bingley left them, saying, “Grey, I am trusting you with my dearest sister.” He turned to Elizabeth. “Please do not tell Louisa or Caroline I said that, but they have only themselves to blame.”
Elizabeth chuckled and smiled at Mr Grey. “I am afraid his sisters are not entirely happy with his choice of wife,although there is nothing objectionable about Jane. Have you met her?”
Mr Grey returned her smile, creating thin wrinkles around his startlingly blue eyes. There was something about him that spoke of an easy humour—without being devoid of seriousness when it was called for. But Elizabeth had learnt her lesson about first impressions. Thus, while she thought she could like him, she remained guarded.
