Page 21 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious "Miss B"
“Not at all,” she replied, though she wondered what they would find to discuss.
The garden paths were indeed pleasant, winding between the evergreen shrubs that provided structure even in the coldest months. For several minutes they walked in companionable silence, twittering of birds the only sound.
“Your sister seems much improved today, at least that is what Bingley said.” Darcy observed. “And Lydia arrived. I saw her briefly. She appeared in better spirits.”
“She does. Lydia has been struggling since Papa’s death, but today she appears more like her old self.”
“Grief affects people differently. Some retreat inward, others lash out. There are always good day and bad, but in due course, she will find her way.”
Elizabeth glanced at him with surprise. “You sound as though you speak from experience.”
“I lost both my parents before I reached five and twenty. I was a mere lad when my mother died and not quite a man when my father followed her. Each loss changed me in ways I did not expect.”
“I am sorry for your losses. That must have been very difficult, especially losing your mother so young.”
“It was. Though perhaps harder still was suddenly becoming responsible for Georgiana. She was only twelve when our father died, and I…” he paused, his jaw working as though the words caused him physical pain. “I fear I have not acquitted myself well in the matter.”
“Why would you think such a thing?”
“Last summer, she made a rather foolish mistake that could have cost her her reputation. If I had been more attentive, more aware of her feelings, I might have prevented the entire disaster.”
Elizabeth’s steps slowed. She wanted to ask for details but knew it was not her place. “But you did prevent it, did you not? She is safe and well.”
“Only by chance. I shudder to think what might have happened.” The pain in his voice was unmistakable, and a surge of sympathy for her sisters overcame her.
“You cannot blame yourself for the actions of a practiced deceiver. Such men are expert at manipulation.”
“Perhaps. But I was her guardian. Her protection was my responsibility, and I failed her. I work too much, travel toomuch. Even now, she is with her attendant in London instead of with me. At least for the time being. It is difficult, tending to the young when a parent dies.”
“It is. And you ought not to blame yourself. You were barely more than a boy yourself when your father died. To take responsibility for a twelve-year-old girl whilst managing an estate and all the other burdens of your position. I think you have done admirably.”
“As have you,” his voice was quiet. “I watched you do your very best to comfort your sister when she was hurt yesterday. Tending to her until the early hours, and again this morning.”
A strange thrill ran through her. “We do what we must for those we love.”
“Indeed, we do.” They resumed walking, but the atmosphere between them had changed, grown easier somehow. “Though I confess I sometimes wonder if my protection has been too much. Georgiana is sixteen now, but I still see her as that frightened twelve-year-old who wept for our father.”
“Perhaps that is natural. I still think of Lydia as the spirited ten-year-old who used to chase chickens around our yard, despite evidence to the contrary.” Elizabeth smiled at the memory.
“Ah yes, I do not see Georgiana much differently. But perhaps seeing her among present company will change that.”
“She is coming here?” Elizabeth asked, surprised somehow.
“Yes. She will be joining us here tomorrow. Charles extended the invitation, and I thought… well, she is of an age with your sister Lydia. Perhaps they might get along well.”
“You may be right,” she admitted. “It will do Lydia good to have someone her own age to keep her company. Particularly if that person has experienced what Lydia is experiencing now.”
“That is my hope.” Darcy paused beside a stone bench. “She has always been around people of refinement; it will do her good to have a different scene.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose. “Am I to understand you find Meryton and its inhabitants unpolished?”
He stopped and turned.“No.” The word came swift and firm. “That is not what I meant at all I only meant that the company here is different.”
The sincerity in his voice disarmed her anger before it could fully form. “I see. Meryton certainly is less formal than London’s society. If that is what she is used to.”
“She is. Not only because of London but my uncle…” he waved a hand. “He is rather high positioned.”
Her eyebrows rose and she recalled a rumour she had heard at the assembly. “He is an earl?”
