Teaching Eliza, page 27
Lizzy could not stop the short chortle that escaped her in her surprise, and Miss Darcy laughed briefly, a most unexpected sound. “Oh yes, Fitz was a lover of language even then, and he invented some words that were, he told me, how the pixies spoke when alone. Recalling them, they were more akin to the words of our Welsh-born head gardener, but I believed him and thought him the best and cleverest brother in the world.” Now she had truly stopped speaking, and she seemed content to remain in companionable silence with her new acquaintance.
They were still there some minutes later when Mrs. Reynolds reappeared to inquire whether the ladies desired more drink or cakes. The housekeeper seemed quite taken aback to see Miss Darcy standing on her balcony and she cast a warm smile at Lizzy. “Thank you,” she mouthed, leaving the two to enjoy the lovely day.
Lizzy stayed a short while longer with Miss Darcy, before the girl stifled a yawn and begged Miss Bennet’s forgiveness, but she wished to sleep now.
“Thank you for spending the morning with me, Miss Darcy. I enjoyed making your acquaintance.” Lizzy spoke with sincerity and was rewarded, once more, by the girl’s response.
“I would be pleased were you to come again.” Miss Darcy curtseyed and returned to her sofa, whereupon she closed her eyes and seemed to fall into an immediate sleep.
Mrs. Reynolds was waiting as Lizzy departed and closed the door to the sitting room. She took Lizzy by the elbow and guided her back down the corridor to where she might find the other ladies at their tea. “You have worked wonders, Miss Bennet. Miss Georgie has not been outside, even on her balcony, for many a month, long before our departure for Town. We hoped that London might help her regain her spirits, but she grew worse there than she had been here, and consequently we brought her home. But until today, all she has done has been to lie on her bed and sleep, unless forced otherwise. Did she speak to you?”
“Yes, though little. She expressed some interest in the books I suggested, and hoped that I might return to read to her, and I was able to have her speak to me about the cottage in the wood. She also expressed a wish for me to visit again.”
“Well, well! That is a turn for the better! To express a desire for anything or an interest in anything— ‘tis more than we had hoped for, after these long months! Will you return? May I steal you from your family? It would mean so much to all of us!”
In the end, it was agreed upon by Mrs. Gardiner and Lady Grant that Lizzy might come back the following day, and perhaps two days afterwards as well, to visit with the young miss. “‘Tis a great thing you do, bringing light back to her eyes. I had hoped only to give her some new companionship, but to see her standing, looking around her with interest, aye, that is a marvelous thing indeed!”
As they waited for the carriage to arrive to drive them home, Mrs. Reynolds offered to conduct the ladies of a short tour of the formal French gardens to the south of the house, out of view of the rose garden. Lady Grant and Mrs. Gardiner were taken by some interesting statuary and they paused to examine it, leaving Lizzy to walk with the housekeeper. “Dare I ask,” Lizzy ventured when they were out of hearing of the other ladies, “what happened to poor Miss Darcy to leave her so? Is it a melancholia that emanated from her spirit, or was there some incident that caused this?”
Mrs. Reynold frowned, indecision etched upon her pleasant countenance. At last she let out a breath, saying, “I do not know exactly what transpired, for Miss Georgie will not speak of it to anyone. We fear the worst, but cannot know anything for certain. She was always a shy and retiring child, but last year, she was wooed—against our knowledge and against her brother’s wishes—by a young man she knew from childhood. When it was discovered that the man desired only her fortune and not her love, it broke her heart. They were away at a seaside resort, and no one knows if he… importuned her at all, or merely wounded her spirits. Although,” she added with a frown, “that is bad enough, to see the girl.” At Lizzy’s questioning expression, the housekeeper continued, “She will not allow a doctor to see her, and refuses all of the medicines and tonics the apothecary sends up for her. We had tried to hide them in her food, but she can taste them, and will not eat until they are removed. It is a sorely horrid thing to see such a bright child reduced in this way.” They continued their walk in silence until the footman arrived to inform them that the carriage was waiting.
The following morning, as arranged, Lizzy travelled back to Pemberley in the Grant’s chaise, with only the driver and a maid for company, the lighter vehicle serving to significantly shorten the duration of the trip. Lady Grant had obligations on her own estate, and Mrs. Gardiner wished to visit some of the tenants she had known as a girl. Lizzy was happy for the solitude, for she had much to think on regarding poor Miss Darcy. Without the animated chatter of her aunt and friend, Lizzy was also better able to appreciate the countryside, and she found that repeated exposure only brought more of the beauty of the area to light.
Once again, Mrs. Reynolds stood waiting to greet Miss Darcy’s guest, and she conducted her up the stairs to the sitting room, where Miss Darcy was ready for her. To Lizzy’s surprise and great pleasure, the drapery had all been pulled open, and the room was awash in sunlight. The soft blues and yellows glowed with iridescent warmth, and the tasteful golden accents caught enough of the sunshine to illuminate the space, as the ornate capitals in a medieval manuscript. Glancing around, Lizzy could see more of the room as well, including, in one far corner, almost hidden behind a Japanese screen, a spinet. Surely Miss Darcy must play! Perhaps she could be coaxed into turning to her music to brighten her spirits!
As well as the room, Miss Darcy, too, was somewhat brighter, and was waiting for her on a chair, rather than half-reclined on the sofa. She rose from her seat when Lizzy entered and greeted her properly, before reclaiming her chair. This was already a marked improvement from the previous day, and Lizzy could feel Mrs. Reynold’s approval in every word and gesture. “Ring when you need me. I shall send up some tea and cakes shortly.” She patted Lizzy’s shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile. Lizzy could not help but smile back. While hardly the actions of a servant—no matter how highly placed—to a guest, the maternal affection she felt from the housekeeper more than atoned for any irregularity in distinction of place.
Again, the professor strode unbidden into her thoughts. In London, too, his household staff had been somewhat unconventional in their behaviour. He was not an ordinary man, to be sure; as demanding as he was, he clearly expected more than the norm in his staff, and he seemed pleased to allow them a fair degree of liberality and freedom in exchange. She found herself considering once more those perplexing facets to the personality she was not quite certain she knew.
But this was not the time to think about the professor. Miss Darcy was here and needed a friend, and Lizzy was determined to offer the girl her full attention.
The morning was quiet but pleasant. Lizzy read from one of the newly purchased novels for a time, and encouraged Miss Darcy to discuss a passage here or a character there, and when it so happened naturally, she allowed the conversation to veer from the text. As the conversation tended in that direction, she told further stories of her childhood in Hertfordshire, and swore Miss Darcy to secrecy at some of the tales that involved running through the fields at midnight in her friend’s brother’s pilfered breeches. “Mama never did learn why there were mud stains on the ceiling of the front parlour, as much as she swore we were haunted by goblins!” Lizzy laughed in recollection and was gratified to observe her new friend attempt another brief smile.
When Mrs. Reynolds brought the tray of lemonade and cakes, the two young ladies were sitting on opposite sides of the low table, each with a pad of paper and a pencil in hand, attempting to sketch the other. “Oh, Mrs. Reynolds,” Lizzy laughed, “you must not look at my sorry efforts, but I have seen some of Miss Darcy’s drawings, and I am astounded at her talent. I am certain she is taking a veritable likeness of me!”
“Miss Georgie, back at her drawing! How lovely.” The housekeeper beamed. “May I see, my dear? Oh, indeed, it is exactly Miss Bennet’s likeness. You must allow her to keep it when it is complete.”
“Of course, but perhaps Miss Bennet will allow me to take another drawing, so I may fully remember her kindness when she has returned to her own family. I shall send it to be framed, to hang in the family’s sitting room with the paintings of Fitz and…”
She stopped speaking all of a sudden and the liveliness drained from her face.
“What did I do wrong?” Lizzy’s eyes begged of Mrs. Reynolds, but the lady closed her eyes and shook her head in warning.
“Later,” she mouthed, and Lizzy had no choice but to agree.
The visit ended shortly thereafter, Miss Darcy feeling no longer up to company, but did sincerely express her wish for Lizzy to forgive her and to return soon. And as before, she executed a graceful curtsey and set herself down upon the sofa and closed her eyes to the world.
“Please, forgive me, Mrs. Reynolds! I have no notion of what I did to cause her such pain. What did I do?” Lizzy chewed her lips as the housekeeper sat her down in a small and comfortable room at the back of the house and poured some tea.
“’Twas not you, my dear. ‘Twas a memory that neither of us might have stopped. That man, that awful man…”
“The one who is the cause of her current sorrows?”
“Aye, he. Miss Georgie painted his likeness before the trouble, and it hangs beside her brother’s portrait in the family’s private sitting room. I will have it removed before the lass comes down and sees it. Never fear, it was not your doing. But perhaps it is good that you know more of what bothers her, for you do have a gift of drawing her out. You will forgive her lapse today and return?” The older woman’s eyes begged Lizzy’s acquiescence, and Lizzy was only too pleased to agree. For all that Miss Darcy was less than cheerful company, Lizzy had taken a definite liking to the girl and wished to be of help.
Over the next two weeks, this ritual was repeated once and again, and Miss Darcy seemed to be brightening ever so gradually, if inconsistently. By the end of the third visit, the two had agreed to be friends and had become Lizzy and Georgie to each other. “I have so longed for a friend,” Georgie confessed as they stood outside on the balcony that day. “Fitz hoped to find me companionship in London, but all I saw there was frivolity and artifice, and here, where I am comfortable, I am lonely. How your visits have been a balm for me, dear Lizzy.”
Consequently, each day when Lizzy arrived, Georgie smiled in her flat manner and was willing to engage in conversation. Some days were better than others, to be certain, but Mrs. Reynolds never failed to mention after the visit was over how delighted she was with her charge’s progress, no matter how subtle.
The mornings would pass in a similar manner. Lizzy would read for a while and the two would discuss the story. Then, whenever the weather was agreeable, she would convince Georgie to join her on the balcony to take in the sunshine and fresh air and observe the roses and the forest from their lofty position. In an attempt to draw the girl’s thoughts from her own sorrows, Lizzy suggested a project of knitting items for the tenants’ Christmas boxes and she encouraged Georgie to talk about those tenants she knew. Georgie, it transpired, did not know how to knit, but she proved rather skilled at a yarn craft she called shepherd’s knitting , which used a single needle with a crook at the end to produce the stitches. Despite its rather crude and rustic name, the result was beautiful and delicate, and Georgie showed Lizzy how to make intricate flowers and lovely lace. The project then turned into one in which each taught each other her craft, with the goal of providing even more delightful treats to Pemberley’s staff and tenants.
This project was sufficiently useful in raising Georgie from her gloom that, eventually, Lizzy was able to coax her to the spinet in the corner of the room. After many protests, the girl sat herself upon the seat and stretched her long fingers over the keys. She played a note, then a scale, and then tentatively began a simple Clementi sonatina. Lizzy listened with amazement as Georgie’s unpracticed fingers milked beautiful music from the ivory keys.
“Your talents are not limited to paper, Georgie! You play most beautifully! I can hear that you have not played for a long time, but you possess a technical mastery I can only dream of acquiring, whilst playing with sensitivity and passion. I am honoured to have heard you. I do hope you will play for me more often!”
The girl blushed a deep red. “I have never played for anybody before, other than my brother and the music master. I am pleased you enjoyed it. Perhaps I shall endeavour to return to my studies so I might one day be brave enough to play at some small event.”
This delighted Lizzy, for she heard in the girl’s words not the sad reality of the present, but her first burgeoning hopes for the future and an insistence on reaching past her fears. “Then I can only hope to be fortunate enough to be present at your debut!” She beamed and grasped Georgie’s hands in her own, giving them a squeeze before allowing the girl to return to her instrument.
Can it be , she wondered as she sat in the chaise on her return to Arlenby that afternoon, that I have actually been of use? Perhaps, rather than repaying Professor Darcy for his lessons with her supposed betrothal to him, she was instead able to discharge her obligation by helping his sister through the worst of her troubles. That would suit her most well, for no matter how hurt she had been by the professor’s betrayal, he had completed his end of the deal.
She thought about him as the vehicle rumbled across the well-tended roads, past streams and hillsides and small hamlets and green fields dotted with flocks of fat and healthy sheep. She had tried once and again to keep him from her thoughts, but it was an impossibility even to attempt such, for all that she spent many hours each day in his house, eating his food, admiring his lands, and befriending his sister.
As much as the professor had scarcely mentioned a word of his sister, she spoke dotingly about him. In all of her reports, he was the best of brothers, for she used words of the utmost affection in describing his beneficence and attributes to her new friend.
The professor, Lizzy reckoned, must be concerned for Georgie, despite so seldom speaking of her; as curmudgeonly and unconventional as he might be, he could be a passionate man, and surely his emotions, whatever they might be, extended to the sister who loved him so dearly. Lizzy could not imagine that her new friend would express such devotion to her brother were he not to return the sentiments in some way! And as the caring brother both Georgie and Mrs. Reynolds portrayed him to be, Georgie’s troubles must, in turn, weigh upon him most heavily. Then why, Lizzy wondered, had he not uttered a word of the girl’s troubles?
She reflected on what she knew of his character—or rather, what she thought she knew, for it was so changeable. It was almost impossible to know which aspect to the man reflected his essence; he was most difficult to understand! If only she could sketch his nature as easily as Georgie sketched her features, she might have a better knowledge of the real Fitz Darcy.
He could be, in turn, arrogant, careless, condescending, rude, funny, sensitive, gentle and passionate, but underlying it all was a fierce commitment to the people and circumstances around him. To his staff, he showed himself a demanding master, but one who was also kind and generous, allowing them to be individuals and not nameless and faceless servants. To his students, he gave his entire focus and effort, and in turn, he was not satisfied with middling results. As she had seen with Charles Bingley, the professor would not rest until the student had risen to the highest level he could achieve.
Even when it came to his friends, he did everything in his power to see them well-done-by. The consequences were not always positive—she grimaced at the suffering poor Charlotte and Richard had undergone because of Darcy’s interference—but she recognised that it was his concern for his cousin’s wellbeing that lay behind the debacle. He was totally committed to Richard’s best interests, or, at the least, what he believed them to be. Yes, there was a callous arrogance to the whole affair, but it was well-motivated if ill-conceived.
Then a sudden thought came to her, so striking that she gasped aloud, causing her attending maid to ask if she was well. He was equally committed to his sister. He had never mentioned her, but he must feel her pain with every breath. He had done everything in his power for her, and he had failed her.
And then he had met Lizzy. She was his attempt at salvation. Was his complete devotion to his project to create a duchess from a country miss his attempt to atone for his perceived failure of his sister?
And if it were, did the thought please or further distress her?
SEVENTEEN — RENEWED ACQUAINTANCES
~
SOME DAYS LATER, AFTER THEIR accustomed morning rituals, the two young women were examining Miss Darcy’s rather excellent portfolio of drawings when Mrs. Reynolds herself arrived with the tea—it might have been a task for a maid, but the housekeeper was clearly personally concerned about her charge—and Lizzy was praising the artist quite volubly. There was much to praise as well. As Lizzy had already seen, Miss Darcy had a good and natural eye, and her drawings were composed in such a way as to please the viewer and focus the observer’s attention on the areas of most interest. She had a gifted hand; her drawings of animals, insects, and flora would have been at home in a naturalist’s handbook, so precise were they, and her sketches and portraits of people captured both their outer appearance and their essence perfectly.
Lizzy was, at first, drawn to the portraits of Richard and Freddy. She knew both men well, and it was clear to her eyes how well Georgie had drawn them. There were Freddy’s cheerful, slightly mocking eyes, always ready for a laugh, refusing to become serious about any matter. And there was Richard, his face formed for good humour, but with that vein of sober responsibility beneath the amiable exterior. Lizzy complemented Georgie on her work, saying that she could not have imagined better likenesses of the girl’s cousins.
