Georgiana, who could not possibly have turned him down, 214
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remembered just in time to restrain her eagerness and give off an air of general indifference.
"I will not turn you down this time, Mr Channing," she said, turning up her nose, "but you must not think that I am as easily pleased as that."
He grinned. "Then I see I shall have to endeavour to do something else to please you," he said. "But you will have to tell me what it is--for I am completely at a loss."
Georgiana laughed, for he was really quite silly. But she was making inroads into his affection, and that was all that mattered.
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Chapter 18
Two days after the dance, news of Anne arrived which threw everything they had learned earlier into doubt.
The men who had been sent to watch the London-Edinburgh road returned, having waited in vain for anyone of Anne's description to appear. All traces of her had vanished after she left York. It seemed they had been mistaken in thinking she planned an elopement.
The search had now turned to other directions.
Elizabeth shook her head when she heard the news, and said that it should have been obvious to them all. Why should Anne need to flee to the border, when she was already of age? The idea of her fleeing northwards had misled them, and no one had stopped to wonder why she would be eloping. She could marry anywhere she wished, as long as she could procure a licence.
"Which leaves us with no clues at al ," said Darcy. "We cannot even be sure that the lady who was seen in York was Anne. We have lost a great deal of time fol owing the wrong trail. We can no longer be complacent. I shal have to employ a number of men to work on this."
Things once again looked decidedly grim. For if the man on the case had been mistaken, then they were back to the beginning, and who was to know what had really happened?
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Apart from the anxiety suffered by everyone over Anne, the bad news had another impact. For two days, all the young ladies' activities for the Season were cancelled. But again it was Caroline who provided the most sensible view of the situation.
"It is too late now for Georgiana and Clarissa to withdraw from the London scene. To do so would give rise to unnecessary speculation. For what reason could we possibly give for it? There could be no convincing way to explain it at this point, and society will be only too glad to supply reasons of its own."
No one could deny the wisdom of this, not even Darcy, whose mouth tightened, but who could find no argument to oppose it.
And so it was, that despite Anne's unknown fate, the round of entertainments continued, including the promised outing to the old Abbey.
Georgiana had high expectations of the expedition. She resolved to find an opportunity to spend time alone with Channing, even if both Clarissa and Mr Gatley were in the party. She lay awake in bed after she had put out her candle, and thought of ways she could draw him away from the others. If she did not succeed, then she would only have herself to blame.
But already things were not going well. First, the trip was postponed because a strong storm had been unleashed during the night and going on a picnic was out of the question. Then, on the night before they were supposed to go, Elizabeth developed a cold. Darcy hesitated to send Georgiana without Elizabeth as chaperone. But after many assurances that she would be adequately watched over, he relented, on condition that she would travel with the Gatleys.
Accordingly, a note was sent to them, and Gatley's carriage made its due appearance the next morning.
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Georgiana, who was apprehensive about spending more than three hours in a carriage with Gatley, soon put all her misgivings aside. Mrs Gatley immediately engaged her in conversation, enquiring about her impressions of London society so far and recounting some anecdotes from her own first Season, many of which involved Georgiana's mother as well.
"Ah, what a long time ago all that was," said Mrs Gatley nostal-gically. "And now to think it is your turn to go through it all."
"Would you do anything differently if you could live through it again?" said Georgiana.
Mrs Gatley thought about this for a little while. "No, for how could I? With two children I am very proud of--my daughter married well with a family of her own--and a husband I never regretted marrying for an instant, for he was the kindest man one could ever find--no, I have nothing to regret." She considered this for a few minutes. "My only suggestion to you is: do not take everything too seriously. Life has a way of becoming serious afterwards.
You might as well enjoy yourself while you may."
"I am not sure that is the best advice for a debutante, Mother,"
said Gatley. "You know only too well that any sign of flightiness in a young lady would be condemned by Society."
"Not at all," said Mrs Gatley, "you have the wrong bull by the horns, Henry. There is nothing more charming than a young lady who is enjoying life."
Gatley countered her, and the discussion went on for some time. Georgiana watched them and smiled. She hesitated to give an opinion, thinking that surely she could have little to say, when she herself was a debutante. For what could she know what Society's perceptions were?
"I hope we are not boring you, dear," said Mrs Gatley. "You 219
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have not voiced your opinion yet. Do you not think Henry takes himself far too seriously?"
Now on that she had a definite opinion. "From what I have observed of him, it is indeed the case," she said. "But I can agree with neither of you about what a young debutante should do."
She hoped she would give offence to neither. "I think one should not prescribe anything for a young debutante, for each young lady is different, and should choose her own path. What good is it to ask a young woman who is grave and serious to be full of laughter?
Or to ask the opposite of one who does nothing but laugh. And coming out is a very serious matter. It should not be undertaken lightly. Perhaps, in looking back, you may see things differently, but I cannot imagine that there can be a more serious moment in a young woman's life than the time she must select the gentleman she will live with for the rest of her life."
She spoke with some passion, and was both surprised and pleased with herself by the end of it.
"Brava, Miss Darcy!" said Mrs Gatley. "You have put us to shame. Has she not, Henry?"
Gatley was smiling. "One can hardly disagree with such earnest conviction," he said. "I concede readily that Miss Darcy has the right of it." His voice held enough warmth in it to signify his approval, and Georgiana found herself smiling back at him.
The conversation soon turned to their destination and what to expect.
"I have heard it said that the area near Farnham is among the prettiest in England," said Mrs Gatley, as they admired the view from Hogs-Back.
"A fitting setting for the hero of Waverley," said Gatley. "I have taken the liberty of bringing the book with me. I thought perhaps 220
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we could take turns reading from it. Then perhaps we will be more educated when we visit the ruins."
Georgiana, who had brought a copy herself, produced her own, and Mr Gatley laughed.
"Had I known that you owned a copy, I would not have exerted such pains to find a copy myself," said Mr Gatley.
"I never thought to mention it," said Georgiana.
"Of course not," said Mrs Gatley, leaning over and patting her hand. "Why would you? Well then, who is going to read first?"
"Mr Gatley," said Georgiana.
"Miss Darcy," said Gatley, at the same moment.
Mrs Gatley looked from one to the other. "Well, I see neither of you have chosen me."
Georgiana, embarrassed, began to stammer an apology, but Mrs Gatley dismissed it with a wave of her hand and a smile. "Oh, I am not the least offended. I would much rather listen to the two of you read. Why don't you start, Gatley, and Miss Darcy can continue when your reading becomes too monotonous. For have you noticed that even the best reader begins to lose expression after reading several pages?"
Georgiana had noticed the same, and she agreed heartily with Mrs Gatley. "If we are to switch very often, then you must also participate, and that way we can have more variety and more time to rest our voices."
Mrs Gatley accepted and urged her son to start.
Mr Gatley was a good reader. He had a rich, deep voice and a fine sense of the dramatic. At first she did not look at him, but simply enjoyed the strong tenor of his reading. Then, as he continued, she turned in his direction and began to watch the play of emotions across his face as he read. His face was expressive, his 221
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eyes dark and lustrous. Channing had said he could be agreeable, once he set his mind to it. It was clear that he had set his mind to it on this occasion at least, for he showed none of the haughty attitude he had displayed on other occasions. He read with animation, and afterwards, when they put down the novel and engaged in conversation, she thought that he really could be quite appealing, once he had decided to.
Their reading was interrupted when Channing's carriage--not the phaeton, fortunately--edged past them, forcing their coachman to swerve to avoid having its wheels caught. Channing was in the box, holding the reins, squeezed with his coachman on one side and Clarissa on the other. Clarissa was clutching her hat, which was in danger of being blown away, and her face held an expression both alarmed and thrilled. Channing shouted for them--slow coaches all--to move out of his way.
Henceforth, Georgiana found no pleasure in the reading, and all her thoughts were occupied with the picture of Channing with Clarissa by his side.
The moment Georgiana reached her destination, she was ready to spring out of the carriage to find him. She wanted to tumble out and run over to where Channing's carriage stood. She restrained herself, however, bearing in mind Clarissa's advice about the Grand Entrance.
As it is, her Grand Entrance--or exit from the carriage, in this case--was completely wasted. Clarissa, who had travelled the whole way with the Channings, jumped down from the carriage with Channing's assistance. They waved to Georgiana and the Gatleys in a friendly manner but were soon moving across the meadow 222
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in the direction of the ruins, with Clarissa tugging impatiently at his arm. Miss Moffet came forth and claimed Gatley's arm in the familiar mode of old childhood friends.
Georgiana was thus left to follow with Mr Moffet, who immediately came forward to take her arm, and they sallied forth to meet the hired guide who was awaiting them. The three matrons--Mrs Gatley, Mrs Channing, and Mrs Moffet made up a solid wall behind them.
The ruins were located on a picturesque turn of the river Wey.
A lush old yew tree watched over the ruins. Butterflies flittered around purple foxgloves and white ragged robins, and bumblebees hummed in contentment. The guide explained about the Cistercian monks who had lived there and the refractory that had housed them, and about the slow decline in their numbers over time. Everyone exclaimed over the vaulted crypt, with its arches and elegant columns, even Georgiana, for whom ruins generally held little appeal. The rest of the ruins, however, looked much like any others, and it required too much of an effort at reconstruction to bring them to life.
Clarissa was in raptures about everything, exclaiming over every stone, sighing over the crumbling walls, and peering with fascination through the hollowed windows.
"To think that this lonely spot was once visited by kings! To think of the pomp and ceremony, where now ivy clambers up the walls and only devastation remains. Imagine the glorious church, with its rich ornaments and its imposing presence. Yet this is all that is left."
"Do you really think it was richly ornamented?" said Georgiana doubtful y, looking at the drab dark stone. "The wal s seem quite plain."
"I am inclined to agree with Miss Darcy," said Gatley, passing his palm across the rough surface. "The plainness of the flint work 223
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suggests this was a humble type of abbey, not something elaborate at all."
"You heard the guide say that it was visited by both King John and Henry III, Mr Gatley. Why would two powerful Kings come all the way here if it was nothing but a humble Abbey?"
"Your vision of kings, I suspect," said Gatley, "coincides very closely with the three wise men of the East, in their turbans and shimmering robes."
Clarissa shook her head. "I am sure the old Kings of England were just as fond of riches and ornament as those of the East. No, I have quite made up my mind. There was power here. I can feel it all around us."
A sheep just then emerged from the vaulted crypt and put an end to Clarissa's flight of fancy by bleating loudly. Everyone laughed and the discussion shifted to other things.
A picnic was soon served, during which Clarissa returned persistently to the pathos of the ruins, with their air of decadence and neglect.
"If only I could write poetry," said Clarissa wistfully. "For there must be some way to capture this landscape on paper."
"Leave poetry to men," said Channing, chuckling. "Surely watercolours would be far more appropriate. There is nothing more charming than the sight of a young lady sketching or painting."
"Oh, I am not at all good at painting or sketching. I do not have the patience for it. I find it quite dull," declared Clarissa loudly.
"I am sure Miss Darcy is proficient at painting," said Mr Moffet.
Everyone turned to look at her.
"I hope you brought your sketchpad," said Channing.
"I did," she was happy to reply, glad to have Channing's attention.
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"I will sketch the scene for you," she offered Clarissa. "Then you will have a memento of your visit to reflect upon at leisure."
"Perhaps you could also sketch Miss Clarissa into the scene for me," said Channing, "Then, I too would have a keepsake to reflect upon at leisure."