The Companion Page 24

  Elizabeth nodded and turned to start walking back toward the house, noting that Mr. Darcy had fallen into step beside her. For some time, they walked in silence, Elizabeth considering what she had learned. It was only as they approached the house that she spoke up to break the silence.

  “I have one more question, Mr. Darcy. I understand your sister’s faithless companion was a Mrs. Younge. Do you know if she is still about causing mischief?”

  Mr. Darcy appeared nonplused at her question, but by now he knew she would not ask without a reason. “She owns a boarding house in a seedy part of town. Might I wonder why you ask?”

  “When Lady Catherine advertised for a new companion for Anne, it was answered by a woman called Miss Younge. I was wondering if she was the same person.”

  A frown settled over his face. “Part of the conditions of allowing her to be dismissed only was that she would not attempt to pass herself off as a gentlewoman again. It is possible she is still working with Wickham, but I must own that I do not know. But perhaps it is best to investigate further.”

  Elizabeth agreed that it was. Then she said: “Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Darcy. I fully understand what you have told me and will inform my father accordingly.” Elizabeth paused and smiled. “I will, of course, leave out any mention of Georgiana and her history with Mr. Wickham.”

  Mr. Darcy thanked her, but she could see that his manner was still distracted. It was not until they were only a few houses down from his that he turned and regarded her, bringing her to a stop.

  “You mentioned the phrase ‘not handsome enough to tempt me.’ Though I cannot remember my words in particular—which should tell you what importance I attached to them—are you perhaps referring to the evening of our first meeting at the assembly?”

  Elizabeth blushed. “I was, sir, but I ask you to disregard what I said. It was my vanity which allowed me to be offended.”

  “Would not anyone be thus affected? I will not offer any justification for my words. I would only ask that we start afresh. That gentleman you met that night is not the gentleman I aspire to be.”

  “Of course,” replied Elizabeth. “I believe neither of us can make the claim of exemplary behavior.”

  Though Elizabeth could not quite determine if she had heard him properly, she thought he said: “Thank you.”

  Chapter XIX

  Since her family was to come to Darcy house for dinner the very next night, Elizabeth did not have much time to think about her conversation with Mr. Darcy. Georgiana, though she was Mr. Darcy’s sister, had never hosted a dinner for anyone, and she was understandably nervous for the coming evening. Anne, of course, had never been allowed to have anything to do with any entertaining her mother had done—which was not much—and Elizabeth, though she had observed her mother over the years, was not experienced herself. Still, with much laughter and support of each other, the three girls managed to make the preparations in a creditable manner.

  Her letter to her father was quickly written and dispatched, and though Elizabeth thought the danger posed to her youngest sisters was clear and unequivocal, she could not be certain that her father would not treat it with his typical detachment. Elizabeth considered writing her mother concerning Mr. Wickham—her mother could not resist a piece of juicy gossip and would no doubt have it spread throughout the town within hours. Two facts, however, held her back. The first was the uncertainty about whether Mr. Wickham—who knew she had visited Rosings and might know that she was now in London staying with the Darcys—would retaliate by letting loose his resentment and blackening Georgiana’s name, regardless of Mr. Darcy’s assurances. The other was that she could not be certain her mother would not embellish whatever she was told, making it all that much worse.

  Mr. Darcy was quiet for the rest of the day of their discussion, and even that evening when they gathered together after dinner, he was silent and distracted. His behavior, even more than his usual reticence, drew the attention of his family.

  “You are preoccupied, Cousin,” said Anne, her tone more than a little teasing. “Could something momentous have occurred on your walk?”

  “Of course, there was,” said Elizabeth, speaking up to spare Mr. Darcy the mortification of Anne’s teasing.

  “Oh?” asked Anne, her eyes sparkling with delight.

  “Yes. We had a perilous confrontation with several rabid ducks and were fortunate to escape with our lives!”

  Anne gaped at Elizabeth for a moment, while the Darcy siblings burst out laughing. Her friend’s gaze then became slightly accusing. “At times, Elizabeth, I do not know whether to take you seriously.”

  “I am deadly serious, Anne,” said Elizabeth, injecting a solemnity in her manner which appeared to impress Anne not at all. “Let me relate our experience to you.”

  And so, Elizabeth began to weave her tale, and though what she told them was nominally the truth, it also contained so many embellishments—a swift retreat from hordes of angry ducks among other hazardous encounters—that it could only be termed a tall tale. In the end, Mr. Darcy was laughing as was Georgiana, and though Anne grinned in delight, Elizabeth could see the hard glint in her eyes which told Elizabeth her friend realized she had been diverted from teasing her cousin.

  “Perhaps you should not walk Hyde Park again, Elizabeth,” said Anne when their merriment had run its course. “If such things happen, it would be best, for your own safety, if you remained close to the house.”

  “On the contrary,” replied Elizabeth, “I found it most invigorating, and I mean to do it again.” She turned a look on Mr. Darcy. “Might I assume you will accompany me to turn back the dangers I might encounter?”

  It appeared Mr. Darcy recognized her words for the peace offering they were, for he replied with alacrity. “Of course, Miss Bennet. It was perhaps the most diverting hour I have ever spent.”

  Anne eyed them suspiciously, but she made no further comment. Soon after they retired for the night, and as Elizabeth was walking from the room, she felt Mr. Darcy step close behind her. “Thank you, Miss Bennet.”

  “It was my pleasure, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth with a beaming smile. It was an exchange which seemed to her to carry some deeper meaning, though Elizabeth decided against trying to decipher it further.

  When her family arrived for dinner the following evening, Elizabeth was waiting with barely restrained impatience. She had not seen Jane since early March, and though she thought she had seen a marked improvement in Jane’s spirits in her most recent letters, she wished to judge for herself the state of her mind.

  The Gardiners were welcomed into the room when they arrived, and at the first sight of her dearest sister, Elizabeth let out a little cry and skipped to her sister’s side, throwing her arms about Jane’s neck and whispering into her ear.

  “Oh, Jane! How happy I am to see you.”

  “I am happy too!” whispered Jane in response. “You must tell me all about your time in Kent.” Jane directed an imperious glare at her, though its effect was diluted by the fact that Jane did not have it in her to act as Lady Catherine would. “I suspect your letters have left out some pertinent pieces, no doubt in an attempt to keep me from worrying.”

  “You shall have it, of course,” replied Elizabeth. “I would not dream of keeping anything from you.”

  “Do you have another room we could use for our visiting, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth turned and noticed her uncle regarding them with equal parts amusement and indulgence. “I have never seen two sisters as close as the eldest Bennets. Their reunion may take some time.”

  “It seems you are correct, sir. Perhaps a retreat to the music room might be advisable? We could have them summoned from here when dinner is ready to be served.”

  “Assuming we could draw them away, of course.”

  “Oh, Uncle!” scolded Elizabeth. “At times, you are too much like my father! Jane and I have not seen each other for two months.”

  “A
veritable lifetime to young ladies, I am sure. Perhaps your aunt would appreciate a reunion too? Mayhap we could leave the three of you here.”

  “I am happy to see my aunt too,” said Elizabeth, greeting her aunt with the same happiness with which she had greeted Jane. “But I suppose I should mind my manners and introduce you to everyone.”

  “I would appreciate that, Lizzy,” replied Mrs. Gardiner.

  Elizabeth pulled away from Jane and made the introductions in a tolerably composed manner, and they sat down to visit, Elizabeth staying close to her sister. Anne, who had possessed nearly all of Elizabeth’s attention in recent weeks, was welcoming to Elizabeth’s dearest sister, and soon they were conversing with ease, Georgiana sitting close by and, if not speaking with equal felicity, at least with composure.

  They were called in to dinner soon after, and Elizabeth was treated to all the happiness of seeing those she considered most dear being accepted by the family who was, after all, much higher in society than they. Her uncle, as the only other man present, spoke with Mr. Darcy with animation, and the ladies enjoyed one another’s company. The table was small enough that they could all talk amongst themselves without having to speak up to be heard.

  “I am curious, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth after they had seated themselves and the first course of dinner was served. “Colonel Fitzwilliam is not in attendance tonight. Has he some duties which prevent his attendance?”

  “The colonel was obliged to attend to a matter of business which, though peripherally connected to the army, was somewhat more personal in nature.” Mr. Darcy paused, and Elizabeth thought his manner was slightly mysterious. “He is gone to the north, but I expect him to return by the morrow.”

  Mr. Darcy turned to his guests. “I apologize for his absence. He was anticipating meeting you all. I am certain there will be many opportunities in the future to make your acquaintance.”

  “I can well understand the demands of business,” was her uncle’s jovial reply. “We would to be happy be introduced to him when the occasion presents itself.”

  Her uncle and Mr. Darcy continued to speak, and Elizabeth watched them. She liked to think that she was well enough acquainted with Mr. Darcy to know when he was obfuscating, and at that moment she was certain she was not being told the whole story. As they were conversing, Mr. Darcy caught her eye, and he smiled and nodded, but there was a hint of smugness in his manner, like he knew something of which Elizabeth was ignorant. But as he turned back to her uncle, and querying him would have been impertinent, she endeavored to put it from her mind.

  After dinner, the ladies retired to the music room, leaving the gentlemen behind to their port. Though she might have thought with only the two gentlemen present they would not be eager for the separation, Mr. Darcy appeared quite willing to stay with Mr. Gardiner and speak of some matters of business. It was another facet to the gentleman Elizabeth would not have considered previously—though she had known of Mr. Darcy’s friendship with Mr. Bingley, a man whose fortune had been made in trade, she had not considered the possibility that he might become friendly with her uncle, a man who was actively engaged in that detestable profession. But he had surprised her again.

  When they had attained the music room, Anne, who had been trying to induce Jane to speak, turned and addressed her again. “Miss Bennet, I understand you and your sister have been from home for quite some time.”

  “Yes, we have,” replied Jane. “Lizzy, as you know, was in London for only a day before she went to Kent, but I came to London with the Gardiners after Christmas.”

  “That is quite a long time to be separated from your family.” Anne smiled in a self-deprecating manner. “Of course, I have rarely been separated from my mother for more than a few days. At present, however, I find that I am quite enjoying the freedom my cousin’s house provides.”

  Elizabeth had not shared anything of Anne and Lady Catherine’s situation with Jane, so she appeared a little perplexed at Anne’s assertions. But in true Jane fashion, she appeared to take the most agreeable interpretation on Anne’s words and said:

  “It is very good of your mother to agree to do without you for a time, so that you may visit your family. “I hope someday to make her acquaintance, for our cousin, Mr. Collins, has told us much of her.”

  It seemed that Anne’s question had a definite purpose, for she smiled at Jane—which changed to a smirk when her eyes darted to Elizabeth. “I would be happy to introduce you. My mother loves to be of use to all—I cannot think she would be anything but pleased with the acquaintance.”

  No doubt she would be horrified at Anne being known to another of the impertinent Bennet sisters, thought Elizabeth, but she held her tongue; the chances of that ever happening were rather small in Elizabeth’s estimation.

  “And what of your parents?” asked Anne, trying to coax Jane to speak. “I assume it must be hard to have their two eldest daughters absent at the same time. Does your mother wish for your return?”

  It was evident Jane was not quite certain how to answer Anne’s question—from her own letters from her mother, Elizabeth knew that Mrs. Bennet considered it more likely that Jane would catch a husband in London, rather than Hertfordshire, so her demands for Jane to return home would likely only happen should Mr. Bingley—or any other man Mrs. Bennet considered it likely her daughter would attract—return to the neighborhood.

  “My mother misses us, of course,” interjected Elizabeth when Jane did not immediately respond. “It is more likely that my father will ask for our return. He does not share as many interests with my younger sisters, so he will likely long for our presence before our mother does.”

  “It is well that you have a loving relationship with your father,” replied Anne. “My father died when I was very young, and I do not have any memory of him. It is something I have missed in my life, I think.”

  The conversation was at risk of turning mawkish, so Mrs. Gardiner spoke up. “Elizabeth especially shares a truly close relationship with her father, though my brother loves all his girls.” Mr. Gardiner turned to Georgiana. “I remember your mother quite well, Miss Darcy, for I was privileged to know her when I was young.”

  “You knew my mother?” asked Georgiana, wide-eyed at Mrs. Gardiner’s assertion.

  “Yes, I did. For you see, I grew up in Lambton, a village with which I am assured you are well acquainted.”

  “Of course, I am!” cried Georgiana. “My brother’s estate is not five miles from Lambton.”

  “Indeed, it is. When I was young I toured it on occasion. The rector at Lambton parish at the time was my father, and as his daughter, I was much involved in charities in the vicinity, in which your mother was invested herself. Though I did not know her well, she was always kind and attentive, and she always had lovely things to say to me.

  “You remind me of her very well, Miss Darcy. You have the same blond hair and blue eyes, and you possess her kindness, though I suspect your shyness—a trait which she also possessed—is in excess of hers.”

  “She passed when I was very young,” replied Georgiana, her ducked head giving evidence of Mrs. Gardiner’s assertions. “But there are paintings of her at Pemberley, and my brother has always said that I remind him of our mother very much, especially these past years as I have grown older.”

  “I believe she would have been proud of you, Miss Darcy. I knew her before you were born, and though she was not one to speak with great energy or to confide in those she did not know well, she always told my mother that she was fortunate to have three daughters, and that she had always wished to have one herself.”

  “Oh!” exclaimed Georgiana. “I had never considered it in that way.”

  Mrs. Gardiner bestowed a benevolent smile on Georgiana. “I am certain you have heard much of your mother, Miss Darcy, and I suspect you are aware of her love, though you have never known her yourself. But I would wish you to know that you were always wanted—she pined to have another child and
had so many disappointments after your brother’s birth. You were very much loved.”

  The pleasure which shone forth from Georgiana’s countenance attested to her gratitude in hearing Mrs. Gardiner speak in such a manner. “Thank you, Mrs. Gardiner. My brother is wonderful, of course, but his memories of my mother are those of a child, since she died when he was still quite young himself, and he does not care for the things a young lady does. Would you . . . If you know any other stories of my mother, would you be willing to share them?”

  “I would be happy to, Miss Darcy,” replied Mrs. Gardiner. “She was one of the best ladies of my acquaintance, and though I was little more than a child myself when I left Lambton, my memories of her are quite vivid.”

  The ladies began speaking of this new subject, and Elizabeth was quite happy to hear her aunt tell of her experiences with Georgiana’s mother. Though she had been taken from them many years ago, it was evident that the lives of both Darcys had been affected to a great degree by Lady Anne Darcy. Hearing a little more of her seemed to tell her more of both Georgiana and Mr. Darcy, and in a strange way, she felt closer to them both and like she understood them better than she ever had before. In an odd way, it was like becoming their closer friends by proxy.

  While Georgiana was engaged in hearing stories of her mother, Anne watched all, especially Jane Bennet, who intrigued her. Consistent with Elizabeth’s assertions, Jane was much like Georgiana in essentials, though her quietude was more the product of simply not wishing to betray her feelings, rather than Georgiana’s shyness. But there was also something about Jane which seemed to suggest that she was not nearly as content as the façade she showed the world.