Georgiana was not dying. She was neither ill nor injured. Her abdominal pain was caused by something altogether different: for the first time in her life, she was starting her courses.
She had not known that her cramps had such a benign explanation, and although her aunt had warned her once, almost a year ago, that she should expect the onset of pain and bleeding, that possibility had never occurred to her.
Darcy wondered if his sister’s lady’s maid had thought of the possibility. If so, no wonder Madison had been so calm as she attempted to soothe both Darcys that everything would be well.
Being considerate, Darcy had written an express to his friend, Charles Bingley, almost the minute he had arrived in London. He had explained that his visit was either cancelled or delayed due to Georgiana’s illness; a day later, he wrote again to assure the Bingleys that Georgiana was almost entirely recovered and in no danger.
He waited a week, as his aunt requested, and then he returned to Matlock House to visit his sister with some new sheet music, a packet of lemon drops, and a single perfect rose from the conservatory at Darcy House.
Georgiana’s wan smile and ashen face did little to reassure him, but she told him that she was well, and she said that everyone had assured her that the pain would not be so unexpected nor so intense in the future. She was genuinely grateful for the gifts he had brought, and she told him that she felt so embarrassed to have been “such a baby” about a perfectly ordinary experience.
“You were in a great deal of pain, Georgiana. The pain was real, and there is no need for you to apologise to anyone for anything in this regard.”
Eventually, Georgiana returned to Darcy House, where she urged him to go help Bingley with his leased estate. “But I need to visit longer with Aunt Helen,” Georgiana said.
Darcy responded, “We do need to find you a companion, however, and I should never have attempted to go to Bingley’s without having someone whose main responsibility is your care. After all, if I am to train Bingley on estate management, I will have to ride out with him, staying away from you for hours. It was very wrong-headed of me to not consider this a top priority.”
Georgiana winced a bit when he said the wordcompanion, but she said, “I suppose you are right, Brother, but I wonder if I should go to the Bingleys at all. I—forgive me, but I do not much like your friend’s sisters.”
Darcy closed his eyes in brief recriminations. What had he been thinking, organising his visit to Bingley without considering the awful ladies he would be stranding his sister with?
“Nor do I like them,” he assured his sister, “and of course you need not come if you do not wish to. Have you asked Aunt Helen if she is able to host you?”
“Yes, I have, and she is apparently as excited about me staying with her as I am. She has been telling me that I am now a young lady, and that some of my country manners should be smoothed out. I am not sure of what she speaks, but I am eager to please her.”
Darcy smiled a bit and said, “But please, please, do stay recognisably yourself, Poppet. I dearly love you as you are. Now, let us go see your aunt to learn about how to choose a better companion.”
Darcy was very happy with the companion that Aunt Helen managed to find for Georgiana. Mrs Annesley was an older lady, someone who was both kind and strong, someone whowould put up with no nonsense but would patiently explain and faithfully model what should be done, and how.
Mrs Annesley was with them for a week before Darcy, Georgiana, and Aunt Helen agreed that she would suit the position perfectly. He wrote once more to Bingley, advising him that he was finally ready to join him at Netherfield Park, if he was still invited; he sent the note with his own special courier, who would wait for a response and switch horses from the mounts he had earlier sent to the Netherfield stables. That way, he had his answer by nightfall, and as expected it was a warm welcome. Darcy was already packed and had farewelled his sister and relations. His life in the short term neatly organised, he was able to get a solid night of sleep.
Which was lucky, as his nights would soon be very restless indeed.
CHAPTER 2
25 October 1811
ELIZABETH
Elizabeth Bennet was not looking forward to the evening’s gathering nearly as much as her sisters—particularly Jane, since she looked forward to spending time with her gentleman caller, Mr Bingley. Elizabeth examined her restive, discontented feelings and thoughts as rigorously as she could, attempting to see them as a stranger might. Since she thought more clearly when she was in motion, she put on her half-boots, bonnet, and outdoor layers, and she strode outside to take the familiar trail to Oakham Mount.
Elizabeth’s fear was that she envied her elder sister Jane, and she dearly hoped that was not the reason for her lack of enthusiasm. Jane deserved every happiness. The two eldest Bennet sisters used to whisper together about their hopes and dreams, and the ridiculous notion that handsome, rich strangers would swoop into their lives and fall in love with them—well, when they got a bit older, they knew how very unlikely those daydreams were. And yet, this very scenario had occurred. For Jane, that is.
Mr Bingley was very handsome, with his fine form, dark blond hair, and green-blue eyes. His smile was almost perpetually on display, and he showed grace and manners ineverything he did. He was also very rich, according to the gossip that their mother insisted was verified, with an income of five thousand a year!
That sum, for a single man, seemed astronomical to Elizabeth. Their entire family of seven made do with only two thousand a year.
Jane was sweet and kind and quietly contented, and she had been thus her entire life. As their mother constantly said, she was also very beautiful. She looked perfect on Mr Bingley’s arm, and her smiles and blushes and kind interpretation of others’ words and behaviours seemed to be a perfect complement to Mr Bingley’s happy mien and his friendly approach to man, woman, and beast. The two had immediately become smitten with one another, starting the night they met less than a fortnight ago. Since then, Mr Bingley had called on Jane five times, and Elizabeth did not doubt that they were both in a fair way of falling in love.
Having thought about all of that, Elizabeth felt very certain—and relieved—that her feelings about Jane and Mr Bingley were entirely positive and unmuddied by jealousy.
So…why am I reluctant to go to Lucas Lodge?
She reiterated her original question as she reached the top of the hill. The flat-topped boulder that she always climbed happened to face Lucas Lodge, although most of the year it was difficult to see the house through the trees.
Finding herself facing the home of her best friend, Charlotte Lucas, and having just considered (and, thank goodness, discarded) the possibility that she herself was jealous of Jane, a memory cropped up.
The morning after the Meryton assembly where Mr Bingley met Jane, the Lucas ladies had come as they always did, eager to discuss the dance. At the time, Elizabeth had not thoroughlyanalysed Charlotte’s words, but now she thought,She is the one who is jealous of Jane!
