“And yours,” he replied with a smile, “is wilfully to misunderstand them.”
2 November 1811
Darcy turned his exchange with Elizabeth over and over in his mind that evening. It seemed nearly impossible that he should find such amusement within the impertinence of a country miss, but then Elizabeth was rather unlike any of them. The words of his book blurred before him as a smile stole over his lips. A man could do worse than to discover an intelligent young lady with sharp, sweet impudence and pretty, dark eyes within such a savage society.
A pleasant country diversion, as my cousins would say, he thought and then grew sober. If he had learned nothing else from this sad business with Georgiana, it had taught him to more thoroughly despise men who preyed upon the innocent. He should not trifle with her hopes and affections. He would not.
Elizabeth leaves to-morrow and none too soon. He groaned and muttered, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
A knock at the door startled him. He tore open the offered express and paled.
*****
A few days later, Darcy debated his wisdom as he bowed to Miss Smith. His interview with Mrs Annesley had been dreadful, full of reciprocal blushes and averted glances. He doubted this one would end much better, except that he had never known Laura to blush.
“I have no idea why I like you. You never brought me flowers or trinkets and not a word in four years at least,” the beautiful actress declared with a rueful smile. She gracefully arranged herself on the settee and looked him over until he flushed. “Perhaps I do remember.”
Darcy sat straighter. “I doubt you missed me, madam.”
“You cannot harbour a grudge? You should not, you know – a lady in my position cannot afford to refuse more constant admirers.”
Later, he could allow for regrets over his own hypocrisy, hers, and the world’s, he decided and came to the point. “I have need of your advice.”
He could hardly look at her as she bade him to continue, but her lack of embarrassment eventually conquered some of his own. “I-I thought you might advise me on how ladies in your, um, situation avoided – a child.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why would you want to know such a thing, Mr Darcy? It seems a strange subject for a gentleman to contemplate.”
“Please, Laura,” whispered Darcy. “Tell me.”
His plea softened her expression into acquiescence. At the end of her speech on potions, remedies and procedures, she caught his distressed look and gave him a half smile. “You are right to be horrified, I think. I consider myself most fortunate to have never conceived. To be sure, I can make the introductions for you, but if you care for the lady, you might not thank me,” she concluded in a soft, distant voice. She then shook herself. “Take her to the country, I say, provide her and the child with an establishment if you cannot marry her. You have the means.”
She clasped his hand and smiled a little too brightly. “Shall you stay?”
“No, I thank you. If I can ever repay your friendship – ”
She decried any need for thanks in a brisk tone, and Darcy left her to return to his sister. As predicted, she burst into tears at the sight of him, ashamed and sorry. He patted her hand awkwardly and thought of his mother with a sharp pang of longing. Georgiana needed her comfort; he needed it. A paid companion and an older brother was a poor substitute for a woman’s care.
When her sobs subsided, Georgiana withdrew her hand. “I would never blame you if you sent for him.”
“How could you think that I would?” he replied, shaken. “I could not ask it of you, not when the fault is mine. If I had warned you of him, if I had been more careful and explained how men – ”
Both siblings blushed then Georgiana began to cry again. “What is to become of us now?”
Darcy wished he knew what to tell her. He would spare no expense to protect his sister’s fragile nerves, he thought as her tears continued to fall, not to mention her respectability in the eyes of the world, once he determined what should be done. She would be more miserable, timid and ashamed if he sent her away and every other scheme seemed designed to invite speculation and dishonour upon his family name. What good is there in rank, wealth or understanding if I cannot protect my family from the unjust censure of the world?
He twisted his handkerchief over and over between his fingers until another vision for their futures presented itself. Georgiana is not fit to marry, but nothing prevents my marriage. With a quick, quiet marriage, all might be concealed.
His first thought was of Anne; his second of Lady Catherine. He could not reject the notion outright, even if his heart and mind recoiled from it. His aunt would use his failures and her position to insinuate herself into every aspect of their lives. There could be precious little happiness for them in that.
Then he thought of her.
