Mr. Darcy's Little Sister (26 page)

“After obtaining a cup of punch for each of us, Mr. Darcy led the way to the inner room in search of breathing space.”

“So much for ‘a few friends,’” Georgiana murmured.

“Quite. The dance floor was sparsely filled as a cotillion began and we managed to find two seats near a window where we could observe the dancers and find some relief from the suffocating heat. I did not recognise any of the people in the two rooms through which we had passed, and your brother did not stop except to briefly introduce me, so I assumed that he had not found any acquaintances to his taste. It would have been difficult to converse in either of the rooms in any case because of the terrific clamour of voices and music. It was absolutely deafening.

“After watching the dancers and greeting the occasional associate or old schoolfellow for about half an hour, Mr. Darcy, looking very bored, offered to fetch me another drink, which I accepted gratefully. I was very warm and was happy to cool myself with my fan and look out of the window at the full moon rising over the treetops.

“He had not been gone long when the string quartet struck up a different sort of tune than those that had preceded it. I looked around at the dance floor and my eyes nearly stood out of my head as I saw the dancers pair off in couples. Although I had never seen it danced, I realised immediately that they were starting a waltz. I was put completely out of countenance, as you might imagine, and debated with myself whether it would be preferable to remain where I was and have it thought that I condoned such activities or to try to make my way quietly towards the salon and risk losing Mr. Darcy in the crowd. As I hesitated, trying to appear both detached from the dancing and unconcerned, I saw a movement to my right from the corner of my eye and turned with relief only to find myself confronted with—not my husband as I had expected but—Lord Rathburn. Our host bowed unsteadily, clearly much the worse for drink and requested my hand for the dance. As I paused—I was too shocked to answer immediately—he mumbled, ‘C’mon Mrs. Darcy. I’m sure your husband wouldn’t mind you dancing with an ol’ schoolfellow.’ His tongue stumbled over the final words, but he managed another wobbly bow.”

“Do you mean that he thought that you would allow a complete stranger to touch your… your
person
while you danced? That is unbelievable!” Georgiana gasped.

“Without a doubt. I was finally able to exert myself enough to say, ‘I am sorry, I do not waltz, my lord,’ and was frantically racking my mind to find a way of extricating myself without causing an unpleasant scene when relief came from an unexpected quarter. A voice behind me, filled with disgust, said sharply, ‘Rathburn, you are disgracefully drunk or you would not even consider insulting a lady such as Mrs. Darcy with your offensive suggestion.’

“I turned and was face to face with Lord Byron.

“Rathburn attempted to draw himself up in affronted dignity but only succeeded in throwing off whatever precarious balance he still possessed and was forced to lean on Lord Byron to remain upright.

“Our host started to say, ‘I say, Byron, you’ve no right…’ but Lord Byron interrupted him. ‘I have the right of any man of culture and manners to prevent an insult to a lady.’

“He stopped a young lady in a scandalously diaphanous gown who was passing and said heartily, ‘Mrs. Carleton, our host desires to waltz with you but is too modest to ask. I beg you to indulge him.’

“The woman smiled and eyed Rathburn before she said, ‘I am not sure that Lord Rathburn is up to the waltz at this moment, Lord Byron.’

“Lord Byron pleaded with her, ‘Do try, please, for my sake. He will be desolated if he does not waltz tonight. I would be most grateful.’ He gave her an intimate smile and she finally agreed, taking her partner’s hand and steering him carefully onto the dance floor.

“He turned to me and began to say, ‘I apologise for Rathburn’s behaviour, Mrs. Darcy. I am sure that if he was not in a drunken stupor he would not behave like such an idiot…,’ when Mr. Darcy suddenly reappeared behind his left shoulder, to my intense relief. Following my gaze, Lord Byron looked around at your brother, who towered over him, and greeted him coolly. Mr. Darcy bowed courteously enough, but I saw his eyes blaze for a moment and I knew he had seen my predicament and come to rescue me from both my host and my rescuer. I decided that the best thing I could do was to extricate us all from this embarrassing situation, so I stood up and turned to Lord Byron and said, ‘I hope that you will excuse me, my lord, but I am not feeling very well. The heat is stifling and I was only waiting for his return to ask my husband to take me home.’

“He returned with, ‘I am desolated, Mrs. Darcy, but I hope that you will feel better with some fresh air. Perhaps we will meet another time under more auspicious circumstances.’

“I managed to say, ‘Perhaps. I thank you for your assistance.’

“Mr. Darcy took my arm and, as we were walking away, said, just barely loud enough for Lord Byron to hear, ‘I apologise my dear, you should not be in such a crowd in your delicate condition.’”

Georgiana gasped and covered her mouth. “No, I do not believe my brother would say such a thing!” A giggle broke through and she glanced at the closed door.

“I would have laughed, too, if the situation had not been so embarrassing. We left the room as quickly as we could through the throng, which seemed even more crowded than when we had arrived. Our host was still struggling through the waltz with his partner and his cousin was hidden somewhere in the crowd, obviating the need to say goodnight. When we were safely in the carriage your brother began to whisper furiously, ‘I am absolutely livid that disgraceful rake had the audacity to ask you to waltz with him! How dare he insult you with his disgusting attentions!’

“I tried to calm him for several minutes, since there had really been no harm done, and I do not think that our host was trying to offer me an insult. I suspect that Lord Rathburn thinks any woman would be eager to waltz with him. After all, his patron, the prince, has given the dance his tacit approval.

“Finally, when Mr. Darcy’s anger did not abate, I said archly, ‘Well, I certainly learnt how the haut monde enjoys itself, did I not?’ and that seemed to bring him to himself. It was quite an evening. We both agreed that we were glad you were not with us!”

“How disgraceful their behaviour is!” Georgiana breathed.

“It is. There were, however, plenty of couples who were waltzing, so there are obviously some who think that it is acceptable. And truthfully, it would not really be so shocking if all of the couples were married.”

Georgiana lowered her voice and glanced at the door. “What does the waltz look like?”

Elizabeth walked over and peeked out of the door to make sure there was no one to interrupt them, shut the door again then took Georgiana’s right hand in her left and put her right hand at Georgiana’s waist, standing about twelve inches from her and facing her. She tried to imitate the steps but they kept tripping over each other’s feet, so Elizabeth tried to show her by herself, turning in graceful circles as she swept around the room.

“I am not sure if I have the footwork down, but this gives you an idea. It actually would be quite beautiful to watch, if it were not so scandalous to see unmarried couples dancing that way. And… Georgiana?” She stopped dancing and looked intently at her sister.

“Yes?”

“Please do not tell your brother that I told you about last evening or showed you the dance—I believe that he would not approve of this conversation. However, I feel that it is better to know how to avoid society’s pitfalls than to pretend that they do not exist.”

Georgiana smiled impishly and said, “Of course, Elizabeth, I would not
dream
of mentioning this to him.”

So he passed over, and the

Trumpets sounded for him on the other side.

—John Bunyan,
The Pilgrim’s Progress

Late the next morning, Georgiana was sitting alone at the piano again working on her new sonata. Elizabeth had retired upstairs to rest, and Darcy had gone to his library to meet his man of business. The house was silent, except for the occasional sound of a quiet footstep as the servants went about their duties. Georgiana was surprised when Burton announced Colonel Fitzwilliam. She felt her cheeks redden a little in both trepidation and embarrassment but greeted him politely and asked Burton to bring them some coffee. When she rose to move away from the instrument he exclaimed, “No, do not move! I’ll pull a chair up next to you.”

She sank back down on the bench but picked up Lucky, who had been sitting beside her, and put him on her lap with her fingers in his hair to conceal their trembling. She stared at the keys, feeling as if a hand was twisting her stomach into several knots. The colonel asked her how Elizabeth was feeling, and she was about to answer when the coffee arrived. She thanked the footman breathlessly, following him with her eyes as he departed, and closed the door. The colonel cleared his throat as she turned back to stare again at the pianoforte keys and, after a long pause, said, “Georgiana… I am glad that you are alone this morning because I wanted to talk to you.”

He seemed to lose his voice momentarily, and Georgiana glanced up at him quickly and then back down at the keys. His face was flushed. He pulled at his collar, cleared his throat again, and finally said, “I want to tell you that, well, that I-I love you.” He took a deep breath and hurried on “I mean, I, of course, have always loved you as a cousin, but now, in the last few weeks, I have come to realise that you are the most important person in the world to me, and I wanted to know if you would consider… if-you-would-do-me-the-honour-of-becoming-my-wife…”

He stopped in confusion and then leapt to his feet as her face blanched white and she closed her eyes.

He stammered in dismay, “Are you all right, Georgiana? I-I am so sorry; I did not mean to upset you…”

Her face suffused with colour again, and she opened her eyes and turned to him. She took his hand and looked up at him with a smile of such happiness on her face that he was unable to support himself; he sank back down onto his chair as she whispered, “I thought that you would never ask.”

Interpreting this correctly as an assent, Colonel Fitzwilliam took her hand, placed it gently against his heart, and said, “Georgiana, my darling, I have been in agony for, oh, I do not know how long—it seems like an eternity—trying to decide if I dared tell you how I feel. I was so afraid that you would say no, or, worse yet, say yes only because you felt an obligation to me as your guardian.”

They talked for some minutes, he of how he had gradually come to realise that his feelings for her were not those of merely a cousin or a guardian, and she of how she had grown to love him and how his rescue during her kidnapping made her realise that his veneer of calm and ease concealed a man of deep feeling. She also revealed how she had struggled to try to make him see that she was no longer a child. The colonel finally said, still a little diffidently, “I have been walking around the last few weeks feeling very strange. When I see myself in a glass I look exactly the same on the outside as I ever have, but inside I feel rather like the vase over there would look,” he pointed to a bouquet on the table in a crystal vase, “if you struck it with a hammer.”

“Shattered?” she whispered with a small smile.

“Indeed, yes, shattered is the perfect description of my state. I wondered that it was not visible to everyone I met. I left the ball early last night, risking my mother’s displeasure, because I could no longer bear to see you dancing with so many men who were younger, richer, and more handsome than I am. I have so little to offer you beyond my devotion, and you deserve everything good in the world.” He added grimly, “As your guardian, I also felt that you could do so much better than a soldier with no patrimony.”

“Ah, but the problem with these younger, richer, and more handsome men is that I do not love them. I do not care about anyone but you, dearest Edward.”

He kissed her hands affectionately and softly continued, “I was particularly afraid that my brother would make you an offer and that you would accept him,” he said. “He has so much more to offer you in the way of fortune, but it would be unbearable to me to see you married to him when I would meet you frequently as a close relative—and you would be the wife of another man, one not nearly good enough for you.” He smiled sadly. “Not that I have even a fraction of your worth, my dearest cousin.”

Georgiana turned to him with a small smile. “Lord St. George did make me an offer last night before the ball.” Fitzwilliam sat up straighter in surprise. “I turned him down. Your brother seems to think that I am unable to remember how badly he treated me when I was a child,” she said tartly. “It was understandable that a young man of more than twenty years would not be interested in spending time with a little girl fourteen years younger than he, but he was always scornful and cruel to me when you and my brother were not present. I am afraid that I don’t believe his character has undergone any revolution since then, in spite of his compliments and attention.” She added in a softer tone, “You, on the other hand, dear Edward, were invariably kind to me.”

“I hope that you have not agreed to marry me merely because I was not unkind to you when you were six years old.”

“I am afraid my gratitude to you for teaching me to ride my pony does not extend that far!” she exclaimed.

He kissed her hands again and then went on to tell her, “I felt for a long time that I would rather risk losing you than to take the chance of putting a wall between us forever if I was mistaken about your feelings; but I finally realised that the years would stretch out in an eternity of regret if I did not at least try.”

They soon agreed that he would go speak to her brother immediately and ask for his consent. He left the room just as Elizabeth was entering and bowed to her with a distrait expression on his face. She turned to Georgiana with a questioning look when he had shut the door. Georgiana promptly threw herself into her sister’s arms and burst into tears.

***

When the colonel appeared quietly at the library door, Darcy was reading some documents but was alone at his desk, his man of business having left some minutes before.

“Darcy,” he said, and his cousin looked up, startled. “Darcy,” he said again, his voice tight and strained, “I have asked Georgiana to marry me and she has accepted me. I hope that you will give your consent.”

Darcy rolled his eyes heavenwards and closed them briefly before saying in a pained voice, “Good God, man, what took you so long?”

He opened his eyes, laughed briefly at the sheepish look on his cousin’s face, and added more seriously, “I will most happily give my consent, Fitzwilliam.”

The colonel began to say, not very fluently, that he knew that he had nothing to offer Georgiana in the way of fortune, but Darcy stopped him with an upraised hand, saying quietly, “Except yourself, Fitzwilliam, except yourself. If marriage with you is what Georgiana wants then it is enough.”

They shook hands with all the warmth of their many years of mutual regard and respect and then returned together to the drawing-room where Georgiana was sitting silently, holding tightly to Elizabeth’s hand and waiting for them. When she saw their faces, she ran to her brother and embraced him, shedding a few more joyous tears, while Elizabeth warmly shook the colonel’s hand and wished him joy. When the congratulations were finished and everyone had expressed their pleasure in the prospect of the cousins’ marriage several times, the colonel finally recollected himself and said, “I had better go to Longford House and tell my parents. They will be very happy to finally have one of their sons bring home a bride, especially one with such an irreproachable family background.” He grinned at Georgiana.

They all repeated their congratulations and, after extracting a promise to join them for dinner that night, sent him away.

***

Georgiana spent the next few hours in a state of happy distraction, quite unable to believe that all her hopes had been realised. Even Lucky had to resort to barking at her several times to get her attention when she was staring into space instead of rolling his ball for him to chase. She finally gave up her attempts to remain calm and had Durand escort her to Freemont House as early as she could decently call. When Catherine came down she said, “Why Georgiana! How good it is to see you!”

Georgiana clutched her friend’s arm and said, “May we go to your room?”

Catherine raised her brows, but said, “Of course, my dear.”

She directed Durand to the servants’ hall and took Georgiana directly upstairs to her sitting-room.

“What is it?” Her face was eager.

Georgiana took a deep breath and said, “I am engaged!”

“What?”

“Yes.” She nodded emphatically and grinned at her friend. “I am engaged to my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

“The Colonel! You astonish me, but I am very happy for you, my dear! Tell me all about it. I had thought that the elder brother might be the one; do not think that I missed his attentions to you!”

“Actually… Lord St. George did ask me, but I turned him down.” Georgiana swept St. George away with a flick of her fingers. “Somewhere, somehow, this spring I realised where my affections lay; and it was not with my elder cousin! I suppose when I compared the gentlemen of London to my tall, handsome, easy-tempered, gentle, and completely exasperating cousin I realised that I no longer wished to be his ‘little cousin’ any more.”

Catherine embraced her friend and then swung her around the room. “You sly thing! I saw you watching him, but I had no idea that you were sizing him up for matrimony.”

Georgiana laughed, but her expression was a little wry. “It happened rather suddenly… a bit like falling off of a horse, a combination of pain and the pleasure that one has survived the experience! But truthfully, I tried to be circumspect until I had an idea of his mind. Just when I was ready to despair he appeared on my doorstep—or at least in my brother’s drawing-room—and laid his heart at my feet.” She grinned at her friend. “But, perhaps you would have noticed if you had not been so deep in conversation with Sir Robert Blake.”

Catherine endeavoured to smile mysteriously but was too overcome by delight to tease her friend. They talked for almost an hour, until Elizabeth came with the carriage and gathered up Georgiana to visit the Bingleys; there was much to tell them.

Jane was surprised and delighted at Georgiana’s news, and Miss Bingley was warmly congratulatory to “dear Georgiana,” although she had a rather speculative look on her face as she wished her joy.

***

That evening Colonel Fitzwilliam came early while the ladies were dressing for dinner and drew Darcy into the library. Darcy looked at the expression on his face and said, “What in the world is the matter, Fitzwilliam?”

“I just wanted to let you know,” he said uncomfortably, “that I went home this afternoon to tell my parents that Georgiana and I were engaged.” He clasped his hands behind his back and stared over Darcy’s head at the books behind him. “They, of course, were very pleased with the news—however, my brother was also there. He was astounded when I told my news and said ‘I do not believe it!’ So I asked him to what he was referring. He said that he did not believe that Georgiana could be so stupid that she would marry me.”

“And what did you say?” Darcy asked quietly.

“I foolishly said, ‘Do you mean because she would turn you down for me?’”

“Did she?” Darcy said, glancing up in surprise.

“Yes, she told me this afternoon. He asked her to marry him before my mother’s ball and was sure that she would not turn down the Viscount St. George, future Earl of Whitwell,” Fitzwilliam said bitterly, starting to pace around the room. He suddenly stopped and looked at Darcy with a ghost of his usual mischievous grin. “Actually, I gather from the little that Georgiana said, and from his reaction, that she gave him quite a dressing down. I wish that I could have seen it. Seeing my dear brother receive such a set-down would have been salutary.”

Having been the recipient of such a dressing down himself, Darcy felt a brief pang of sympathy for St. George; however, he roused himself to say, “Elizabeth noticed that she looked fairly put out when they rejoined us before the ball, but she did not have a chance to talk to her before the guests arrived. Georgiana seemed to be fine after greeting the guests and Elizabeth did not pursue the subject. So, what did you do after St. George’s comments?”

The colonel stopped pacing and stared up at the ceiling, looking embarrassed. “I asked him to go outside with me for a private conversation. I then told him that I did not ever want to hear him say such a thing about my fiancée, or any other respectable young woman, again. He sneered at me and asked me what I was going to do to enforce that demand—so I hit him.”

“You what?!” Darcy sat up in his chair.

“You heard me. I am deeply sorry that Georgiana’s name should become involved in such a sordid display, but I can at least say that there were no witnesses to it.” His lip curled as he added, “My brother, however, will not be partaking of the gaieties of the Season for the next week or so, until the black eye that I gave him fades.”

Darcy murmured, “
A verbis ad verbera
.”

Fitzwilliam gave his cousin a sharp look and continued, “My parents are absolutely furious with him. My mother is not speaking to him and my father took him into the library while St. George was still holding a wet cloth to his eye and told him (in a booming voice that I am sure all of the servants heard) that he was ashamed to call him his son and that if he could prevent him from inheriting the estate and title he would. I have never seen my father so angry. He also cut off his allowance, which he does have the discretion to do. St. George is furious and unrepentant, and you know how stubborn he is.” He sighed deeply. “What a mess, and just when I was ready to be happily engaged and enjoy my loss of freedom. How did he get to be like this?”