“No. But you have begun to imagine what she did not feel.” Georgiana’s tone remained gentle, but it no longer yielded. “That is not the same thing.”
He stood still for a moment, looking at her. “Our aunt has given me another explanation.”
Georgiana’s expression changed at once. “What explanation?”
He hesitated only because to repeat it was to give it substance. “She claims that upon being told that marrying me would mean being shunned bythe rest of our connection, being unable to use our family’s consequence, she thought the better of it. That to sweeten the deal, Elizabeth was offered an inducement to remove herself from my notice, and she accepted it.”
For the first time, Georgiana’s composure gave way to visible indignation. “That is impossible.”
“I told her so.”
“And yet you have repeated it yourself.”
He did not deny it.
Georgiana rose now, the quiet gravity of her manner sharpened by feeling. “You cannot believe that of her. Not after all you have said. Not after all I have seen.”
“I do not wish to believe it.”
“That is not enough. Do you believe it?”
He answered with difficulty. “No. Not wholly. But I cannot explain what has happened in any other way.”
“You cannot explain it because you do not know enough, not because our aunt is right.”
He looked at her, and for a moment, there was something almost painful in the steadiness of her regard.
“Fitz, my dear brother,” Georgiana said. “I think you ought to have more faith in Elizabeth. Notto mention more faith in yourself.”
Darcy looked away. “I only wish I could,” he said.
When he could bring himself to look back at her, Georgiana was watching him sorrowfully. Her eyes searched his, as though she were looking for the answer to a difficult question.
When she did not find it, she gave him an understanding smile and a gentle touch on the arm, and went away. Some minutes later, he heard the sounds of the pianoforte, as Georgiana attempted to find the answers he could not give her.
∞∞∞
A few days later, the Bingleys came to dine.
Their arrival brought a degree of animation to Darcy House that had been badly lacking of late. Bingley entered with his usual warmth, all gladness and openness, expressing himself delighted to see Georgiana again and pleased beyond measure that Darcy had at last returned to town. His good humour, never difficult to excite, seemed if anything increased by absence, and he spoke so readily of mutual acquaintances, recent amusements, and plans yet to be formed that even Darcy, who had little inclination for company, felt his mood lift a little.
Miss Bingley’s attentions were less welcome.
She paid court to Darcy from the first moment, as she had always done when she had any opportunity to distinguish herself to him, and though she preserved the ease of polished society in her manner, there was nothing in her conduct which could be mistaken for indifference. She placed herself where she might address him often, listened for his answers with more solicitude than the subject required, and returned again and again to whatever might keep him longest engaged with her. Darcy had rarely felt his patience so much tried.
“How glad you must be to be back in London at last!” Miss Bingley exclaimed. “London society is everything. Now at last you may have culture, and conversation, and every good thing.”
“You are very good to be concerned,” Darcy told her, “but allow me to reassure you. I was very well entertained in Kent and suffered no lack of conversation.”
“I am all astonishment!” Miss Bingley said archly. “Indeed, how lovely for you, Mr Darcy. I am accustomed to thinking that there is nothing in Kent but hops.”
“Indeed, there are many fields of hops,” Darcy agreed gravely. “And the beauty of the countryside is only one of the pleasures to be found there.”
“But they do not supply much conversation.”
“They do not,” Darcy agreed simply. “For that, one must rely on one’s companions.”
The answer, simple as it was, was not lost on her. “Indeed? Then I must conclude you found society there more agreeable than I had imagined.”
