His expression altered, though only slightly. “I shall do what I can.”
She seemed content with that, and the conversation, having reached its natural conclusion, shifted without effort into more ordinary matters. They spoke of the journey itself, of what might be expected upon their arrival, and of those small particulars which, though insignificant in themselves, often serve to lessen the weight of anticipation.
At length, Georgiana rose, smoothing the folds of her gown with an absent motion before turning back toward him. “I am glad we spoke,” she said, and though the words were simple, they were not lightly given.
“So am I.”
She hesitated for a moment, as though something more remained, then added quietly, “Thankyou.”
Darcy shook his head and smiled at her. “There is nothing to thank me for.”
“I think there is,” she said, with a small firmness that did not invite contradiction, and with that she left the room.
Darcy remained where he was for some time after she had gone, his thoughts no longer fixed on the immediate subject of their conversation, but on what lay beyond it. The visit to Rosings, which he had at first regarded as an obligation of little consequence, now presented itself differently. It would not be an easy engagement for Georgiana, nor, in all likelihood, a particularly agreeable one for himself. Lady Catherine’s expectations were seldom moderate, and her manner of expressing them still less so. That Georgiana should choose to face it willingly altered his own sense of it.
He would not allow her to be made uncomfortable where it could be prevented.
Fitzwilliam would understand this without being told. The bold colonel had all the courage of a man who has faced Napoleon’s troops and an ease of address that made him the centre of any room he entered. Better still, as Georgiana’s other guardian, he loved her dearly. Between them, they would ensure that Georgiana was not left to bear the full weight of their aunt’s attention.
Yet even as he considered this, his thoughts did not remain entirely fixed on Rosings. Georgiana’s earlier question returned to him with a persistence he did not attempt to dismiss.
You must think very well of Miss Bennet.
He did. Darcy had answered as he thought proper. Whether he had answered fully was another question.
He rose at last and crossed the room, pausing beside the pianoforte where Georgiana had been sitting. The music lay open as she had left it. He closed it with a quiet, absent motion, his mind already moving ahead to what was to come.
Chapter 15
Though not entirely unfamiliar to Elizabeth from former journeys, the road to Kent presented itself with a different aspect when one half-anticipated and half-dreaded the end of the journey. The season, now advancing with more determination than it had shown only a fortnight before, had softened the edges of the landscape. The fields no longer lay in the rigid stillness of winter, and though spring had not yet declared itself fully, there were signs enough of its approach to give the journey a pleasantness which might otherwise have been wanting.
Within the carriage, however, the scene was less tranquil.
Sir William Lucas, who had taken upon himself the agreeable duty of ensuring that no subject of general interest should be allowed to pass without proper acknowledgment, had already introduced the topic which must inevitably occupy them all.
“My dear Miss Bennet,” he said, leaningforward slightly as the carriage turned onto a narrower stretch of road, “I cannot express how exceedingly gratified I am that this unfortunate business in Meryton has been brought to a conclusion so entirely satisfactory. Such things, when allowed to proceed unchecked, reflect very ill upon a neighbourhood.”
Elizabeth, who had expected no less, received this with composure. “It is certainly better that it should be understood,” she said, careful to give the observation no greater weight than it required.
“Understood, yes,” Sir William continued, with increasing animation. “And properly examined. That is the essential point. There must be an examination. There must be authority. Without such measures, we are all at the mercy of appearances, and appearances, as we have lately seen, are not to be trusted.”
Maria, who sat beside him and had been following her father’s remarks with earnest attention, turned quickly to Elizabeth. “It is all over the neighbourhood,” she said. “Everyone is speaking of it. I do not believe there has been anything so talked of in Meryton for years.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly. “Meryton is rarely at a loss for subjects of conversation.”
“But this is quite different,” Maria insisted. “It is not merely talk. It is known. That is what makes itso remarkable.”
Sir William nodded approvingly. “Exactly so. Known and established. It is not every day that such a character is so thoroughly exposed. One must admire the firmness with which the matter has been pursued.”
Elizabeth inclined her head slightly, though she did not immediately answer. The conversation might have ended there, but Sir William, whose inclination toward agreeable reflection was not easily exhausted, continued for some time in the same strain, enlarging on the dangers of an imprudent man and the necessity of proper judgement, while Maria listened with evident satisfaction and occasionally added some remark of her own.
Elizabeth allowed them to proceed without interruption. She had no wish to contradict what was said, nor to encourage it further. The subject, though settled in fact, remained unsettled in her own mind in a way she could not entirely explain. That justice had been done was beyond question. That it had been done through means not her own was equally certain. She had neither claimed the credit nor desired it, yet she was not insensible to the manner in which it had been accomplished.
She did not speak his name. That, too, was part of the discretion Mr Darcy would expect.
The carriage continued steadily on, themotion of it lending a rhythm to the conversation which gradually softened its earlier animation. As the miles passed, the discussion turned from what had been done to what might follow from it, and from there to subjects of a more ordinary nature.
At length, the parsonage at Hunsford came into view. As the carriage drew nearer, Sir William leaned forward to observe the approach with an expression of increasing approval, as though the appearance of the parsonage reflected not only on its inhabitants, but on himself as well.
