Page 40 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious "Miss B"
“Lydia!” Georgiana called out before Darcy could stop her, already moving towards the street. They had long forgone the use of their formal address in favour of their names.
“Lydia! How wonderful to see you in London!”
The effect on the Bennet party was immediate. Lydia’s face brightened, though wariness flickered in her eyes when they landed on Darcy emerging behind his sister.
“Georgiana!” Lydia called back, her voice carrying that familiar spirited edge. “What a pleasant surprise. Aunt, uncle this is my friend, Miss Georgiana Darcy.” She paused, then added “and her brother,” using the sort of tone one might reserve for the arrival of the undertaker.
The gentleman stepped forward with the practiced ease of someone accustomed to managing social situations. “Mr Darcy, Miss Darcy, how lovely to encounter you. I am Mr Gardiner, and this is my husband.” She gestured to the gentleman beside her. “We are relations of the Bennet family.”
“The pleasure is ours,” Darcy replied, though his gaze kept drifting to the rest of the party. Mary and Kitty Bennet stood behind their aunt.
“We are staying with the Gardiners for a time,” Lydia announced, her chin lifting slightly. “A change of scenery after… after recent events.”
The words carried a weight that made Darcy’s chest tighten. Recent events. His interference. Jane’s heartbreak.
“I do hope you are finding London agreeable,” Georgiana said, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents.
“Oh yes,” Lydia replied, though her eyes remained fixed on Darcy. “Although it was much more rejuvenating without reminders of the past one has fled. I do not mean you, of course,” she said and squeezed Georgiana’s hand.
Mrs Gardiner shot her a warning look, but Lydia continued undaunted. Darcy looked across the street as though the milliner’s shop had caught his fancy.
“How are Jane and Elizabeth?” Georgiana asked then. “Are they here also?”
“No. Jane is at home. She is quite miserable. Heartbroken, one might say.” Her voice gained strength with each word. “And sister Elizabeth is not herself either. She is quite disappointed in humanity. Or certain members.”
“Lydia,” Mrs Gardiner murmured, but the girl pressed on.
A flush of mortification coloured Darcy’s neck. He turned, aware he was under assault if he acknowledged it or not. “Miss Lydia, I—”
She entirely ignored him.
“Pray, would you join us Georgiana? We were returning home for tea and sweetmeats. We bought candied lemon peels that are most divine.”
“An excellent suggestion,” Georgiana agreed quickly after glancing at Darcy who was quite clearly not invited. “If your aunt and uncle do not mind.”
“Not in the least. It would be lovely.” She glanced at Darcy, awkwardness descending upon their gathering. “And Mr Darcy?”
“Mr Darcy does not care for tea,” Lydia said, though he had never uttered such words.
Georgiana turned to him. “I will be perfectly safe, William. And you can send a carriage to collect me later. Please?”
Darcy pondered the scene with growing bewilderment. How was it that Lydia could be so angry with him yet maintain such easy friendship with his sister? The girl remained an enigma—still clearly struggling with anger or grief or both, yet showing flashes of the spirited nature the Phillipses had warned him about.
He did not want Georgiana in this company but knew if he refused, he would be beleaguered all night and day and perhaps the rest of the week. Thus, he nodded.
“I shall send a carriage in two hours,” he said and then obtained the address from Mr Gardiner who, to his surprise, carried an embossed card with him. He took it, saw the Gardiners living in Cheapside, and nodded.
“You are in business, Mr Gardiner?”
“Import and export of goods from India and the Canadas,” he replied with a smile.
“I see.” Why had this gentleman not helped the family when he so clearly could afford it, if based upon his clothing and the jewels dangling from his wife’s ears and wrist. Or did he not have such funds? It occurred to him he did not even know how much money the Bennets owed.
“William,” Georgiana said and tugged on his arm. Only then did he understand he had been wool-gathering.
“Right. Yes. Two hours.”
With that, the party departed, leaving him to wonder if he would ever find a way to separate himself from the Bennets—and Elizabeth—at all.
