Page 23 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious "Miss B"
“Still, I wanted you to know how much it meant to me. Not many gentlemen would have troubled themselves.”
“Any gentleman worthy of the name would have done the same.”
Lydia’s smile was radiant. “Well, I think you are particularly kind.”
Caroline then walked a few steps in Darcy’s direction and placed her hand on his arm. “Mr Darcy, my brother asked that you see him in his study when you return.”
“Oh,” he said, seemingly growing taller as he straightened his back. “Well, I shall go then. Miss Bennet, Miss Lydia, it was good to see you both.”
With that, he and Caroline sauntered out of the room, leaving Elizabeth more confused than ever before.
Chapter 8
Elizabeth
3rd April 1811
The following morning found Elizabeth and Lydia seated at the small table by Jane’s bedside, playing cards whilst their sister slept. Jane’s colour had improved overnight, though she still winced when she moved too quickly. The surgeon had pronounced himself satisfied with her progress but insisted she remain abed for at least another day.
“Piquet again?” Lydia whispered, gathering the cards with practised ease.
“If you wish,” Elizabeth replied, though her attention was divided between the game and Jane’s peaceful breathing. “Though I confess you’ve already beaten me soundly twice.”
“Papa taught me well,” Lydia said with a fond smile that no longer brought tears to her eyes, though a shadow rushed over her face. “He said a lady should know how to play cards properly, lest she embarrass herself in company.”
Before Elizabeth could respond, the sound of carriage wheels on gravel drew their attention to the window. A smart travelling coach had pulled up to Netherfield’s entrance, bearing what appeared to be a single passenger.
“That must be Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth observed, watching as a slight figure in a dark blue pelisse descended from the coachwith the assistance of a footman. Following her was an older woman—the attendant.
Lydia pressed her face to the glass. “She looks very young. And rather nervous, poor thing.”
Indeed, from their vantage point above, Georgiana Darcy appeared to hesitate at the bottom of the steps, glancing around as though uncertain of her reception. She was petite and graceful, with fair hair visible beneath her bonnet, and carried herself with the careful deportment of someone conscious of being observed.
“I wonder where Mr Darcy is,” Elizabeth mused. “Surely he would wish to greet his sister upon her arrival.”
“He and Mr Bingley rode out early this morning,” Lydia informed her. “I saw them from my window just after dawn. They said something about inspecting the tenant cottages. I think Miss Darcy was not expected until later.”
Elizabeth turned to her. “But Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley left as well an hour ago. That means…”
They looked at one another and without speaking, dashed to the door. Elizabeth was not going to have this young woman be greeted by none other than Mr Hurst, who—while not a brute—lacked manners and could be overbearing whenever he was awake. A circumstance that rarely came to pass, thankfully.
They rushed down the stairs and came upon Mr Hurst and Miss Darcy. His red, ruddy face was sweaty. From what effort, Elizabeth could not tell. Beside him, Miss Darcy blinked at them through long lashes.
“Ah! There you are. Very well. Miss Bennet, Miss Lydia,” Mr Hurst said with uncharacteristic formality, “may I presentMiss Georgiana Darcy? Miss Darcy, these are the Miss Bennets—their sister took ill and is a guest at present.” Turning to Elizabeth he added “I explained that Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley are away, as are my wife and sister-in-law.” He looked as though her was quite put out by this and given his generally lacking social graces, Elizabeth understood.
Georgiana stepped forward with a nimble curtsey. “How do you do? I am so pleased to make your acquaintance. My brother has written about your family in his last letter.”
Her voice was soft and musical, with a slight tremor that betrayed her nervousness. Elizabeth rose and curtsied in return, struck immediately by the young lady’s natural elegance.
“The pleasure is ours, Miss Darcy. Your brother mentioned you would be joining us. I hope your journey was not too taxing?”
“Not at all, thank you. Though I confess I am rather travel-weary.” Georgiana’s eyes moved uncertainly between Elizabeth and Lydia. “I do hope I am not intruding when your sister is ill?”
“Jane is much better today,” Lydia said. “She fell down the stairs two nights ago—such a dreadful crash! But she is recovering nicely. Are you very tired? You look it.”
Elizabeth winced slightly at Lydia’s bluntness, but Georgiana seemed more amused than offended.
“I am a little tired,” she admitted with a small smile. “And perhaps a touch nervous. I have not had much opportunity to make new acquaintances of late.”
