“Then you look forward to their coming to dine,” he asked, “and do not regret the invitation?”
“Yes, oh, yes! Mrs. Gardiner is all that is amicable, and Mr. Gardiner seems a jolly, indulgent sort of gentleman whom no one but a complete goose would fear for long!”
Darcy chuckled at the scorn for her earlier fears in her voice. “Yes, only a complete goose, I grant you!” The horse’s gait slowed as it prepared to pull the curricle over the high arch of the bridge. The rush of the merry waters and the clatter of hooves against cobblestone drowned out Georgiana’s response. When they were crossed, he looked over to her. “You realize that Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mrs. Gardiner will likely return the call tomorrow. Will you be easy? Shall I return early from fishing?” He presented his offer with what he hoped was light disinterest, but in truth he struggled with competing desires. On the one hand, he should absent himself from the salon if he truly wished to remove every obstacle to the growth of a friendship between Georgiana and Elizabeth; on the other, he could hardly think how he could know Elizabeth was at Pemberley and stay away from her.
“Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst will be there. Will they not be happy to see Miss Elizabeth as well?”
“I would not depend on the joy of either of those ladies to carry the morning,” he replied, “but Mrs. Annesley will know how to make your guests feel at ease.”
“Of course, Mrs. Annesley.” Georgiana nodded and then looked askance at him. “Still, it would be good if you came…just to be sure. Near the end of their visit, perhaps?”
He briefly looked down on her and then away. Was this a bit of feminine subterfuge or a resurfacing of her shyness? Whichever, it was an open door that he was glad to step through. Taking both reins in one hand, he reached down to squeeze the gloved fingers curled about his arm. “I shall make an appearance then, near the end.”
Mr. Gardiner’s grasp of the art and nuances of angling was a pleasure to behold, but it was his easy, companionable silence that particularly recommended him to Darcy’s growing circle of those he respected. That Bingley or Hurst would ever achieve the status of true angler was doubtful; Bingley’s laughter and Hurst’s roars gave neither him nor the trout in the river any peace to be about their business. It was not long, therefore, before he and Mr. Gardiner found themselves side by side away from and above the spots along the Ere that the other two gentlemen had staked out. Glancing over at the older man, Darcy was reminded of the last angling trip to Scotland that he and his father had taken the summer before he entered Cambridge. Although he had not then been his sire’s equal in the sport, he had been treated as such, and the quiet companionship and good humor of that expedition were not unlike what he felt at this very moment. If it were not for the distracting awareness that even at this moment Elizabeth was in Pemberley’s salon and a raging curiosity about the events taking place there, he could have put it down as a satisfying expenditure of a morning.
“Mr. Darcy, allow me to thank you again for this invitation,” Mr. Gardiner offered, his voice low. “I hesitate to say how long it has been since I have had this pleasure and did not think that, as escort to two ladies, such an opportunity would come my way. Quite providential!”
“It is my pleasure, sir,” Darcy responded and was gratified to discover that he truly meant it. “I hope that you will not pass Pemberley by on any future holidays in Derbyshire. If I am not in residence, Sherrill, my steward, will be happy to see to you.”
“You are very kind, sir.” Ten minutes of silence ensued before the older man coughed and cleared his throat. “Ah, Mr. Darcy, I beg you will not think you need attend me. I am quite content to spend the next hour communing with Providence and the trout on my own should you have obligations elsewhere.” The guileless eyes rested on him briefly. “You must not let me detain you.”
Had he been so obvious? Looking narrowly down at the man, Darcy could detect no sly or conspiratorial humor, only a quietly blissful gladness to be just where he was. Another open door? He pulled in his line and set the tackle down next to the box they shared. “There is something that I promised Miss Darcy that I should see to before her guests leave,” he explained. The excuse sounded weak and insubstantial to his ears, but Mr. Gardiner nodded sagely, as if his explanation bore all the marks of reason. “If you will excuse me, I will attend to it directly.” Leave was promptly given, and with a deep breath, Darcy turned for home, his pace increasing the closer he drew to the house. Forcing himself to walk up stairs he wished to take in bounds, he paused only long enough to straighten his waistcoat and coat before nodding to the footman to open the salon door.
As soon as he stepped inside the room, all conversation ceased, and Darcy found himself under the curious regard of every feminine eye in the room. “Ladies.” He made his bow after sweeping them all with a polite smile. “I hope you will excuse my intrusion.” Although all his being was alive to Elizabeth’s presence, he knew at once that Georgiana was under some strain. The source he could easily guess, for Miss Bingley’s countenance was wreathed in one of the most false smiles he had ever had the misfortune to receive. But Caroline Bingley was not his concern on this excellent day, and he passed by her quickly to take Georgiana’s hand in his. “Come, my dear,” he whispered, moving her from Mrs. Annesley’s side to sit next to Elizabeth on one of the divans. “Miss Elizabeth, has my sister told you of the last concert we attended before leaving London?” He took up a station on the other side of Georgiana and dared to look down into Elizabeth’s smiling face. She wore a simple but becoming gown of pale yellow muslin sprinkled with delicate flowers that enhanced everything about her. He particularly noted the curls at her nape, which brushed her shoulders and played enticingly with the lace at her throat. It was all he could do not to reach out and entwine his fingers in them.
“No, she has not, sir!” Elizabeth turned her beautiful, laughing eyes upon Georgiana. Good Lord, she positively glowed! “Please, Miss Darcy, you must tell me. Whom did you see, and what did you hear?”
Georgiana colored a little but responded readily enough, and Darcy could have asked for no better than the gentle questions and sincere exclamations that Elizabeth contributed to their conversation. He could sense his sister’s tension slipping away as, with either Elizabeth’s help or his, their conversation flowed from one topic to another in a seemingly natural manner. As for Elizabeth, she gave every indication of developing a warm regard for Georgiana, which made his heart rejoice. It was not long before he had the further satisfaction of assuming the part of observer only, withdrawing from participation as the exchanges between the two became more animated, until all he needed to contribute was the broad smile that would not be contained.
“Pray, Miss Eliza.” Miss Bingley’s voice carried imperiously across the drawing room, bringing all other discourse to a halt. “Are not the — shire Militia removed from Meryton? They must be a great loss to your family.”
Darcy stiffened as the room fell into shocked silence. What devil had seized control of that woman’s tongue that she would attempt to introduce Wickham into his drawing room? What could be her purpose? Surely Caroline Bingley could not know of Wickham’s attempts against Georgiana! No, that was impossible! He glanced at Elizabeth, who had gone very still at the mention of her name. Yes, it was Elizabeth whom Miss Bingley wished to defame in this exceedingly ill-bred attack. His blood raged at the thought, but even so, it was his sister for whom he feared. As he looked down into Georgiana’s pale face and large eyes, he saw that the damage had been done, for at his glance she quickly lowered her head and looked away, all her former animation having fled. His color heightening in helpless anger, his eyes sought Elizabeth’s. It remains with you, he tried to tell her through the agency of his earnest regard. Miss Bingley must not delve further.