A Constant Love: A Pride & Prejudice Continuation, page 6
Georgiana and Mary had been compelled to play a duet and a solo piece each, and on the whole they had found the group to be passionately devoted to music, and very forgiving of mistakes, especially when they were made by a player attempting to stretch his or her capabilities.
Mary conveyed their reception with the utmost enthusiasm, but Elizabeth noticed that Georgiana seemed a little subdued, and wondered if she had been uncomfortable performing in front of such an audience. She intended to apply to Mrs. Annesley at some point during the day to find out how the evening had gone from a more impartial perspective, but found that Mary provided her with all the intelligence she needed in an aside as the ladies were moving to the drawing room.
“Mr. Davis, on the trumpet, paid quite a lot of attention to Georgiana,” she said. “He could hardly be persuaded to leave her side the whole evening, and he said she has thirty thousand pounds. Is that true? Could she truly have such a dowry?”
Elizabeth confirmed delicately that it was true, and began to understand why Georgiana had been so subdued. She wished she had gone with them that evening, or at the very least warned Lady Tonbridge that Georgiana was not yet prepared for the fortune hunters that would come her way in society.
Georgiana joined them in the drawing room, but left soon complaining of a headache. Elizabeth followed her to her room, knocking on the door and entering when there was no response.
“Please do tell me to leave if you truly have a headache and do not want the company,” Elizabeth said. “But I understand that your headache might go by the name of Mr. Davis.”
Georgiana, sitting on the edge of her bed, looked up sharply at Elizabeth. “How did you know?”
“Mary informed me, but please do not blame her. We are both worried about you. Was he at any point inappropriate?”
Georgiana shook her head. “He was indiscreet, but his manners were otherwise unobjectionable. He could talk of nothing else but how great my family were, and how my fortune should be just what he needed to expand his small estate in Wales. He made it sound as though it was certain we would be married and yet I showed him no indication that I favoured his company!”
“Oh, Georgiana,” Elizabeth reached out and put her hand over her sister’s. “I fear he is not the last man with similar presumptions you will have to face.”
“I know,” Georgiana sighed. “Mrs. Annesley warned me that I would have many suitors who were only interested in my fortune. It is only – I suppose I did not realise some of them would be such terrible company. I went last night expecting only people who were enthusiasts of music, and I was unprepared. I will not be so in the future.”
Elizabeth felt a deep pang of sympathy for her sister. She had grown up facing the challenges that a lack of fortune brought to her potential for marriage, and had only now fully realised that finding a good partner with such a large fortune as Georgiana’s could be equally difficult.
“I am sure the viscountess would understand if you did not choose to return for future evenings,” Elizabeth said.
“Oh, no!” Georgiana cried. “That is to say, I did truly enjoy the music, and everyone else was so kind. I did not think I would be comfortable performing in a room full of strangers, but I was. I had even thought to ask if we could send back to Pemberley for my harp.”
“We certainly can. But how shall you deal with Mr. Davis?”
“I will have to be firm, and tell him that I do not prefer his company,” Georgiana said, with enough of her brother’s resolve that Elizabeth thought she might just be able to do so.
“I will go with you next time, as well as Mrs. Annesley, so you have more family to support you,” Elizabeth said, determined that if Georgiana was unable to do so herself, she would tell the man to stop his overtures. “However for now, if you are feeling well enough for it, let us practise.”
“Practise? How does one practise such a thing?”
“Oh, Miss Darcy, you are in possession of such a great fortune,” Elizabeth said, taking up her arm. “I am sure you will love my paltry little estate in Wales.”
Georgiana giggled at Elizabeth’s actions, but finally said: “Sir, I have come for the musical club. I thank you for your interest, but I would ask you to turn your attentions back to the music.”
“But Miss Darcy, we are a match made in heaven! Surely our love of music will bring us closer!”
“Mr. Davis, I am sorry, but I must make it clear that I am not interested in your suit.”
“There, you did that quite well,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes, but I fear it will not be so easy with the real Mr. Davis.”
“I think you will manage just fine.”
After Elizabeth left the room, Georgiana laid back in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Now that she had feigned a headache, she would have to stay in her room for at least a few hours, and she wished she had thought to ask Elizabeth to bring her a book. She smiled as she thought of her sister; she was feeling much better after her conversation with Elizabeth.
At the very beginning of the evening, she had actually enjoyed Mr. Davis’s company. He had sat beside her after she finished her solo piece, and was very complimentary of her playing. But then he had continued to seek her company throughout the rest of the evening, and been increasingly bold about the potential of a connection between the two of them.
The only thing she could take some consolation in was that it had been clear to her he was only interested in her fortune. After her near-elopement with Mr. Wickham – the thought of it even now made her flush with shame – she had realised that he would likely not be the last man to pretend to be in love with her in order to get at her fortune. She had been young, no one had ever paid her such addresses before, and she had thought herself in love so easily. When her brother had first brought up her coming out this year, she had known that he was right, it was time, but she had determined that she must be extremely cautious. She must guard her heart, and she must rule her own feelings so that she would never again allow herself to be persuaded to be in love by such a man.
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Georgiana was still in her room when Lady Ellen called on them; expressing concern for her niece and her hopes that she would be recovered a fortnight from Friday. The ladies all expressed their curiosity as to the significance of the date, and Lady Ellen informed them that a particular friend of hers, Lady Ruth Allen, was hosting a ball that evening. Upon hearing that Lady Ellen’s nieces were in town, Lady Allen had immediately extended the invitation to include them, and Lady Ellen thought a small, private ball would be a perfect first such outing for Georgiana, whose coming-out ball would not occur until January, when the full season began.
Catherine was disappointed at first, upon hearing this – she had been longing for a ball, and now Elizabeth and Georgiana would attend one, while she would have to stay home. But soon enough, Lady Ellen’s statements indicated that both she and Mary were also included in the invitation. Catherine had always liked Lady Ellen, but this condescension to consider her and Mary as her nieces, and for an invitation to a private town ball, of all things, now made Lady Ellen one of her very favourite people.
Elizabeth, too, noted the condescension with satisfaction, and particularly the way Kitty acknowledged it. There was no wild squealing as might have happened had Lydia been around, and instead, Catherine told Lady Ellen that she would look forward to the event with great anticipation; it had been some time since she had danced. Her enthusiasm was evident, but she controlled it carefully.
There was no such condescension, however, when Lady Catherine arrived, so soon after Lady Ellen had departed that Elizabeth wondered if she had seen the carriage with the Brandon arms on it, and ordered her own carriage to circle the block until Lady Ellen left. Lady Catherine had an invitation to deliver to Darcy, his wife, and Georgiana only, for dinner only two days before Lady Allen’s ball. She did so despite the presence of Mary, Kitty, and Mrs. Annesley in the drawing room, and Elizabeth had half a mind not to accept it, but knew that Lady Catherine must have invited at least one potential suitor for Georgiana, and she would not harm Georgiana’s chances to favour her own indignation.
Kitty had no cares about Lady Catherine’s dinner party when she would be attending a ball two days later, but Mary took greater insult; she had thought Lady Catherine favoured her, and she went over to the pianoforte and took up her practise in the hopes of reminding the lady of her diligence. Lady Catherine rose to take her leave soon, however, and so Mary was left to look forward only to the next musical evening with the viscountess, which she did, greatly.
They had a family dinner that evening, having invited only the Bingleys to join them. Everyone was much relieved to see Georgiana recovered, and she was filled in on the callers of the day, and the invitations that had been delivered. Georgiana could not garner much excitement at her aunt’s dinner invitation – she had no doubt that Lady Catherine had a suitor in mind for her, someone who matched Lady Catherine’s expectations of whom Georgiana should marry, and that they should be introduced at the dinner. The ball, however, she was quite excited for. She knew her aunt Ellen would not have sought the invitation unless she thought it to be a good event for Georgiana’s first ball, and she looked forward to it with every anticipation of finally having an opportunity to dance in company.
The gentlemen were not long with their port after dinner, but rather than taking seats in the drawing room, Darcy requested that Elizabeth and Jane join him and Charles in his study. Elizabeth felt all the strangeness of the request; she sometimes joined Darcy in his study during the day to read a book in the comparative quiet of the room, especially when Mary and Georgiana had been practising in earnest. But to request her presence there, and with Jane and Charles, was something else entirely, and she wondered if perhaps he had some bad news to share with them that he wished to keep from the rest of the family at first.
When they were all inside and seated, Darcy seemed at a loss for how to begin whatever it was he was about to broach. Finally, he said:
“Charles and I have made some very fortunate investments in the course of the last year, which brought an exceptional return when the peace was declared. We had been discussing what we might be able to do with the profits, and thought perhaps the best use of the money would be to increase Mary’s and Catherine’s portions.”
“Oh my,” Elizabeth said, seeing that Jane still looked too shocked to speak. “That is exceedingly considerate of you.”
“Nonsense!” Charles said. “They are our sisters now, too.”
“But what of Georgiana and Caroline? Surely as your blood sisters you would want to increase their portions.”
“Georgiana and Caroline already have more than sufficient dowries,” Darcy said. “Georgiana will be pursued by enough fortune hunters with her current dowry, and it is in part for her that I wish to do this. She, Catherine and Mary have struck up quite a friendship, but the discrepancy in their expectations must certainly colour the relationship.”
Darcy did not mention another reason for the decision to contribute to Mary’s and Catherine’s portions, but he and Charles had discussed at length what should happen if Mrs. Bennet survived Mr. Bennet. Certainly the woman would need to live with one of her daughters, and if one or the other of her unmarried daughters remained so, a sufficient fortune would allow them to set up house in a reasonably sized cottage. If all of her daughters married – and a larger portion would give Mary and Catherine much improved chances – Mrs. Bennet could be shuffled amongst more households, meaning that Darcy and Charles would suffer her company less frequently. This, however, was reasoning he could not offer to Mrs. Bennet’s two eldest daughters, so instead he said:
“We had thought to supplement their portions so that each of them should have five thousand pounds. Do you think this would be acceptable to your father?”
In some ways it would be an insult to Mr. Bennet, Elizabeth knew, that what her father had failed to save up over the years could now so easily be provided by his new sons. However, she also knew her father to be selfless enough that he would accept the gift politely. Five thousand pounds, although nowhere near Georgiana’s thirty thousand or Miss Bingley’s twenty thousand, should be sufficient for them to make a far better match than either of them might have hoped for previously.
“I am certain it would be,” Elizabeth said. “I know my entire family will be grateful for the consideration you have given them.”
“Oh yes,” Jane seconded her. “It is so kind of both of you.”
“Good, then we will have the paperwork drawn up, and I will write to your father indicating our intentions,” Darcy said. “Would you like to call your sisters in so that we may give them the news?”
“I would like for the two of you to give it to them without us,” Elizabeth said, looking to Jane for her assent. “They should know that this was your idea, not ours.”
“Very well, then. Please do send them in.”
Both Mary and Catherine were mildly terrified to be called into such a conference, and especially without their elder sisters. Mr. Darcy had been nothing but kindness to them as guests, and they had always known Charles as an amiable man, but they could think of no reason why they should be called into the male sanctuary on business.
When the reason for their being called in was explained, and they had absorbed the news that they were each to have five thousand pounds, they were as pleased as can be imagined. Mary did not think it likely that she would find a husband in town; she held out hopes that perhaps she might meet with a country clergyman of the highest moral standard someday. While she already knew she was no longer at risk of being turned out of Longbourn to starve, with two sisters so well married, the idea of having some fortune of her own was greatly pleasing, even if she never did marry.
Catherine, meanwhile, was ecstatic. She had come to London hoping to find a husband, and to go about it much better than Lydia had done, and now in addition to the artistic skills she hoped to acquire, she had some fortune to also recommend her. She looked forward to the ball with even more enthusiasm than before, and looked upon her brothers with nearly as much adoration as she had shown Lady Ellen earlier.
Chapter 7
The next morning, the house was once again filled with music, although far livelier than usual. Elizabeth had gone out to call on the Gardiners, and when she returned, she found the drawing room empty. She made her way to the ballroom, and there found Mary at the pianoforte, while Catherine and Georgiana were dancing.
“Lizzy, come join us!” Catherine called out. “Georgiana wanted to practise her dancing before the ball, although she needn’t have worried – she dances wonderfully.”
Elizabeth took a seat beside Mrs. Annesley in one of the chairs that ringed the ballroom, and watched as they finished the dance.
“If Mary is not too tired for another song, I should like the next dance with Mrs. Darcy.” Darcy’s voice behind her startled her; Elizabeth had been so focused on Georgiana and Catherine, she had not heard him come into the room.
“I am certainly not too tired,” said Mary. “You all will tire before I do; I could play for several hours more.”
Darcy led Elizabeth up to where the ladies were dancing, and they all bowed with mock seriousness as Mary launched into the next song. Dancing with another couple allowed Georgiana to better practise all the movements of the dance, and Elizabeth noted that even Darcy seemed to be quite enjoying himself. They all finished the dance in high spirits.
“Mary, can you play a waltz? I should like to practise that as well,” Georgiana said.
“A waltz?” Elizabeth, Catherine, and Mary exclaimed, nearly simultaneously.
“It will be some time before it becomes acceptable at country dances,” Darcy said. “But yes, the waltz has become quite appropriate at London balls. I would not be at all surprised if it is danced at Lady Allen’s ball.”
“But I don’t know how to waltz!” Catherine exclaimed, although she knew enough of the dance to like the idea of it very much.
“It is actually much easier than the dances you already know,” Darcy said. “But I am certain we can get an instructor in before the ball so that you may be taught. There are four parts, but I find the Sauteuse to be the most difficult. Georgiana and I may show you, if Mary has fast waltz she can play.”
Mary did indeed have a fast waltz she enjoyed playing, although the thought of dancing it was as abhorrent to her as it was pleasant to Catherine. She launched into it, and Darcy led his sister in a progression all the way down the ballroom, looping about with little hops, and back up to where the ladies were gathered.
Darcy then held out his hand to his wife. “Elizabeth?”
“I do not know how to waltz, either,” she admitted.
“Well, then, let us try.”
Mary continued playing the song, and after a few early missteps, one of them on Darcy’s foot, Elizabeth began to get the motion of the dance, and they worked their way down the ballroom as Georgiana and her brother had done. Elizabeth found that she quite liked dancing such a dance with her husband, but was not sure she could condone the young ladies doing so with just any partner, and from what little she knew of the dance, the Sauteuse was not even supposed to be the most intimate part.
The longing on Catherine’s face to try was clear when they returned to the group, as was her gratefulness when Darcy held out his hand to her. She picked it up even faster than Elizabeth had done, with the advantage of having watched the other dancers very carefully. Indeed, she intended to practise the steps on her own as best she could, any time she chanced to be alone.
Elizabeth watched them go around and nearly laughed to think of the first time she had seen her husband at a dance, so uncomfortable and unwilling to dance with anyone he did not know. It was difficult to believe this was the same man before her, encouraging her sister to move her feet just a bit faster. How she had misunderstood him then! And yet, also, he had changed, even since their marriage; he was far more lighthearted, now, and Elizabeth wondered how much of his old serious demeanour had been caused by worry about his sister.
