Trouble With Wickham (8 page)

“I see what you mean,” Georgiana agreed. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the smooth flat lawn, rows of expertly manicured hedges and a small ornamental pond.

“I will let you be then, unless there is anything I can get for you?”

Georgiana looked around the spacious, well kept room, noting the dressing table with large mirror, the marble mantle over a hearth that housed a crackling fire, a porcelain jug of fresh water, everywhere the clean fresh smell of lavender, which Georgiana loved. Her every need seemed to be accounted for.

“No, thank you,” she said, with a warm smile.

“Drinks will be served downstairs in the drawing room at six. Just head back down the stairs the way we came up to get there,” Charlotte said. “I will see you then.”

As she said goodbye to Charlotte and closed the door behind her, a sweet feeling of satisfaction arose within Georgiana. Bennington Park was a large house and her brother could not possibly monitor her the entire stay. On one point he was right; she did like the young Mrs. Lancaster and the fact that Fitzwilliam did not even know where she was situated in this grand house was an added treat.

She pulled off her bonnet and loosened her hair. Her silver plated hairbrush had been unpacked and laid carefully on the dressing table. She picked it up, and sat herself down on the window seat to brush her hair.

So far, from what she had seen, Bennington Park was a simply delightful setting. All the room sizes were generous, the lighting plentiful, the views from the windows showcased endless grounds dotted with majestic old oak trees gnarled with age. The whole estate was taken care of so gloriously. There was a familiarity to Bennington Park that pleased Georgiana greatly, as if she had walked these halls in some long forgotten dream. Before tonight she had not thought that this horse party was anything more than a complete and total bore. But that was then, she admitted. At present, she found herself surprisingly glad to be there. 

Loud shouts and the barreling of horse’s hooves echoed from outside. Georgiana looked to see two horses galloping down the lane toward the front of the house, each rider urging his horse forward with exhilarating shouts. The horses and riders flew past the front of the house at a breathtaking clip, disappearing around the corner toward the stables. Georgiana managed to catch only a brief profile of the riders—two young men with strong jaw lines and trim builds—their aristocratic forms and joie de vivre piqued her interest. Suddenly, she decided that a house party full of handsome strangers was exactly the tonic she needed.

She wondered if Fitzwilliam would prevent her from interacting with unattached young men, were she to encounter them here? Eventually, she imagined, were she to form an attachment with a suitable young man, the truth about the incident with Wickham would have to come out—keeping the secret would seem disingenuous in such a circumstance. She shook her head and sighed. Keeping secrets was so much work. However, in regards to her past, it was the path that Fitzwilliam insisted they take.

Georgiana had refused the offer of a ladies maid so when the time came to gather downstairs, she wiggled into her blue velvet gown with the pearl trim, piled her golden hair upon her head in the latest fashion, dabbed some rose water on her pulse points, and evaluated her look in the mirror from every angle, happy with the results. Then she hesitated.

Should she, as expected, wait at the top of the stairs for her brother and Elizabeth, who would most certainly be exiting their rooms shortly, and descend together? Or, might she be bold and enter the drawing room independently?  Her heart beat at the idea of escaping her brother’s shadow. Yet she knew no one in the party beyond Charlotte and her parents and that introduction had been brief. By descending alone she could be exposing herself to social embarrassment, standing alone with no one to converse with. However, the opportunity to be presented as her own person and to socialize, albeit for only a few moments, out of her brother’s watchful glare was a temptation too great to resist. Quickly she decided to stage her own, mini-rebellion against her brother’s controlling ways, signaling to him that she planned to be unpredictable.

Before she had a chance to second guess her decision she turned the doorknob and flung open the door, walking swiftly down the corridor and across the landing, descending the grand staircase with grace, her nervous yet exhilarated heart fluttering as rapidly as a hummingbird’s wings.

T
he Bennington Park drawing room was full of well-dressed people who looked admiringly at the blonde young lady who suddenly appeared in the doorway unescorted. Charlotte saw Georgiana immediately upon her approach and ran to greet her, pulling her into the room eagerly and rescuing her from experiencing even a moment’s social awkwardness.

Georgiana was drawn into a small group of what she considered to be surprisingly pleasant looking men, for country folk, she thought. The tall, dark young man with deep brown eyes she learned was Charlotte’s own husband Guy, and the other her brother Hugh.

She recognized them immediately as the two riders who sped past her window.

“Very pleased to meet you Miss Darcy,” the young heir said, with a slight bow. Georgiana liked the looks of this young man instantly. With his refined features, unruly head of thick sandy locks, aquiline nose and towering height, she thought it would not be a small thing to earn his favor. “And you too,” she replied, and when his blue eyes lingered on her face she felt herself suddenly tongue-tied.

“And how are you enjoying Hertfordshire?” Hugh began confidently, picking a banal yet neutral conversational starting point.

“Very much. I am getting used to the rhythms of the countryside, after my long stay in London,” she replied sweetly.

“A drink, my lady?” A servant proffered Miss Darcy a tray of small cut crystal glasses of Madeira.

“Yes, thank you,” she replied, selecting a glass and taking an initial sip, happy to feel its warmth sink deep inside of her but happier still to have something to hold in her nervous hands. Guy, having himself been a recent newcomer to Hertfordshire society, sensed Georgiana’s slight anxiety and decided to inject humor into their circle.

“Let me be the first to warn you, Miss Darcy, that your hosts possess an explicit bias for their home county,” Guy explained. “Do not make the mistake of regarding any other spot in England above Hertfordshire,” he teased.

Charlotte was not having it.

“But Guy! Be reasonable! It is not peculiar or wrong-headed to prefer one’s home county above all others,” she sweetly reprimanded her husband. “I am sure she and Mr. Darcy must feel the same about Derbyshire.”

Georgiana’s moment of nerves seemed to float away, along with her fear that her opinions would not matter amongst the Meryton strangers, and she found herself eager for a break in the conversation to chime in. “Yes, I dare say Derbyshire is rich in natural beauty, but my attachment to it does not deter me from appreciating new landscapes,” she said. “I could not help but admire the countryside on our journey here. Perhaps one day I may become a Hertfordshire convert as well.”

“Oh there is no prettier place than Hertfordshire,” Charlotte said, naturally falling back into her old habit of extolling the virtues of her childhood home. “Although I am most happily settled at Ludlow Lodge there is still a charm to Hertfordshire that tugs at my heart.”

“Ah, is it not all part of England’s green and pleasant land, as the poet says?” Guy said, with the dreamy look he always got when recalling his favorite poets.

“Pray you do not become so attached to a place that you make foolish decisions based on your fear of leaving it, like Charlotte did,” Hugh said, taking another opportunity to torment his sister for her failed geographical approach to finding a husband.

Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“Excuse my horrid brother Miss Darcy. He is referring to an unfortunate short courtship I entered into with a local man, the Earl of Buckland, an innocent enough misjudgment of character on my part of which he relentlessly reminds me. Having an older brother yourself, I am sure that you have been in a similar position and will be sympathetic to my case. Pray, do tell: Does your brother enjoy reminding you of your recent follies as mine does?”

Georgiana laughed out loud in surprised agreement, thinking to herself how tightly Fitzwilliam’s nerves were wound where she was concerned, how vigilantly he investigated the society she was exposed to, and how her very presence there that night was evidence of how little trust he had in her.

It was as if Charlotte read her mind.

“What is it with older brothers?” Charlotte continued, leaning conspiratorially toward Georgiana. “As if by virtue of being first born, and a man, they are somehow granted the right to judge our poor little lives, expecting perfection at every turn, entering our mistakes in some kind of mental log book, while at the same time escaping any blame for their own errors of pride or drink or recklessness, with no stones ever thrown at them. It is almost Biblical in its hypocrisy, isn’t it?”

Hugh stood stock still in amazement as he listened to his sister’s rant. When she finally paused to take a breath, he roared with laughter, tilting his head back and meeting Georgiana’s gaze with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Now Charlotte, please, stop! What a sorry picture you paint of me in front of our guest to whom I have just been introduced! Can I not have the courtesy of enjoying five minutes of her esteem before you regale her with my many faults? Miss Darcy, I beseech you to believe that, despite partaking in mild brotherly mischief, I am not the worst acquaintance you could make here tonight.”

Georgiana was looking in wonder between Charlotte and her brother with envy. If only she and Fitzwilliam could banter together as easily as they did. Lately, it felt as if their conversations were marked by hurt feelings and harsh words. But before she could respond Guy joined in the fun.

“Five minutes of esteem? Surely here is the most pompous man in the room! Miss Darcy, I have known the young Mr. Radcliffe since he was a wee one and I can assure you that he is indeed the worst man you will meet here tonight. You would do well to avoid his company for the duration of the party.”

Georgiana laughed in response, wondering if perhaps it was partly her own fault she took Fitzwilliam’s oversight to heart and so seriously. Perhaps she should laugh at her brother more, instead of pouting. Perhaps he exerted control over her because she allowed him to? Perhaps a different sort of girl would be carving out her own life in spite of her brother’s heavy-handed supervision?

Chastened by her self-approbation, and suddenly determined to change her approach, she looked Mr. Radcliffe directly in the eye and spoke with levity.

“Perhaps you overestimate the value of my esteem. I am sure that if you asked my brother for his opinion he would say my errors of judgment are worse than your sister’s.”

“Is that so?” Hugh asked with incredulity, convinced she was exaggerating.

“Indeed!” Georgiana continued, happily supplying just enough background to explain her brother’s obvious anxiety without coming out and revealing her short-lived plan to elope with Wickham. “He considers me a slippery eel of a girl who cannot be left unattended at Pemberley for even the shortest period of time, and must be dragged along through the countryside with him and inflicted on strangers such as yourself for my own safety. Yes, I confess that my own faults are to blame for my presence here tonight, and why my brother watches me like a bird of prey. Surely
I
must be the worst person in the room for you to make an acquaintance with,” she teased back.

Both Guy and Hugh blinked in startled response. Hugh could not help but be curious as to the particular nature of these sisterly mistakes she alluded to, and thus began to think that Miss Darcy was not only beautiful, but intriguing as well. He would most definitely enjoy keeping an eye on her as the party progressed, he decided.

Guy looked at Charlotte and felt a strong wave of relief that he had arrived at Bennington Park just in time to be a witness to Charlotte’s own youthful errors in judgment regarding the Earl of Buckland. He was thankful for his present happiness, knowing that if he had not summoned his courage and kissed Charlotte in front of the whole company when he did, then she might to this day be bound forever to the Earl of Buckland.

Overcome with affection he reflexively put his arm around his wife’s waist and said endearingly, “It’s my opinion that young women with no mistakes in their past make the most uninteresting creatures.” Charlotte leaned her head into Guy’s shoulder happily, pleased as ever at his unwavering love and support.

“I am not ashamed to admit that my mistake was a beefy fellow with a permanently red face who was also a drunk, a cheat and a murderer who wanted my hand purely for my dowry! Someday, Miss Darcy, when you know us all better, you must promise to fill us in on the details of your mistake as well!” Charlotte patted Georgiana on the arm and laughed.

Georgiana’s eyes grew wide at Charlotte’s teasing and she smiled at the thought of a future friendship with the bright young people standing before her. One day, she thought to herself, she would like to laugh in public about her tryst with George Wickham. Buoyed by Charlotte’s own nonchalance and gaiety, Georgiana exclaimed loudly “I promise!”

“Promise what?” Fitzwilliam asked, beset with curiosity, as he and Elizabeth stepped up to join the group. Hugh noted the quick change in Georgiana’s expression when she realized her brother had overheard her exclamation. He rightly guessed that the shift in her demeanor revealed the existence of very real tension between the siblings, and he felt an immediate desire to protect her.

“Miss Darcy here has promised to ride out and follow the hunt tomorrow in order to better evaluate the beauty of the Hertfordshire countryside. She simply does not believe us when we say there is no prettier place in all of England!” Georgiana shot him a startled smile of surprise at his quick response. He smiled back at her.