Chapter 8

Elizabeth looked up from her book as her mother came into the parlour. She mumbled to herself, lifting the basket of sewing on the side table near the iron settee, then shuffled over to the mantle. "Where did I put that blessed thing —"

"What are you looking for, Mama?"

Her mother looked up sharply, surprised. Likely, she had not even seen Elizabeth when she came in. "Oh, Lizzy, my dear. I am looking for my brooch. The one with the butterfly on it. Have you seen it?"

"I believe you wore it on your green Sunday dress, did you not?" Elizabeth asked. "Have you asked Maria?" The maid was ever losing things, her head in the clouds as she sang her country songs to while away the days.

"Oh, yes. I shall ask the maid if she saw it in the laundry. Thank you, dear." Her mother turned to leave, but Elizabeth stopped her before she cleared the doorway.

"Mama?"

"Yes, dear?" Her mother asked breathlessly. Her eyes darted impatiently down the corridor toward the kitchens, in which the laundry was also housed.

"May I invite Miss Darcy and Mrs Younge to supper? I have been so enjoying the young woman's company." Elizabeth chose not to voice the other reason for the request. She did not think Miss Darcy had received many invitations since coming to Meryton. If any.

"What a splendid idea. Yes, of course, my dear. And invite her brother, as well. I believe he has come to our humble village as well?" Her mother's eyes looked hungry, as if there were an opportunity awaiting her in the suggestion. "It would not do to snub him and risk losing their good opinion of us. The Darcys are an upstanding family, by all that we've been told."

"I do not want to invite them for our own ends, Mama. From all Miss Darcy has said of her brother, I am sure he will be good company." Elizabeth could not deny that she was looking forward to meeting the gentleman. "In any case, thank you, Mama. I shall write the invitation now."

"Very good. Now, what was I doing when I came in here —" Her mother turned two circles around herself as if that would help her memory. She turned back to Elizabeth and pursed her lips. "Lizzy?"

"You were looking for your butterfly brooch. And we decided it must be in the laundry."

"Oh, yes, thank you, dear." She walked away, humming softly to herself.

Elizabeth shook her head, retrieved her book, and went up to her room to draft the invitation. When she arrived, her oldest sister was sitting on the window seat, neatly embroidering a handkerchief. Jane looked up and smiled, then went back to her task. "What are you doing up here at this time of day? I thought you would be out walking the fields and reading to your heart's content."

"I was reading in the parlour. But I've just asked Mama if we might invite the Darcys and Mrs Younge to supper. She has agreed." Elizabeth set her book on the edge of the desk and sat down to draft the letter. "You should go into the garden and sit in Papa's rocking chair to do that. There is no telling how much longer we'll be gifted with these mild days."

"I prefer my spot here by the window. I can enjoy the sunshine without the wind blowing my sewing away," Jane said. The needle darted nimbly through the cloth, carrying bright silk behind it, as Jane continued talking without looking up. "Who will be included in the invitation?"

Elizabeth gave an impish grin. "Are you asking after our dear Mrs Younge?" she asked.

Jane did look up at her then, wrinkling her nose in annoyance. "What are you implying that I am implying, Lizzy?"

"Do not be coy with me, sister. I know you better than anyone, I think. And though you are disposed to think well of everyone, I do not think that Mrs Younge is your cup of tea? Am I correct?"

"Perhaps she is only careful with her charge. That is to be commended, is it not?"

"No, it is not. Not the way she is careful, at any rate. You will not speak ill of anyone, but I do not like her condescending tone. Besides, I feel she has something to hide and that it may have to do with Miss Darcy. I mislike it."

"You are ever too distrusting, Lizzy. I will only say that Mrs Younge does not seem the kind of woman that wants to be friendly. Perhaps we caught her on a bad day. Our next visit may be far more pleasant." Jane stood, looking over her work in the sunlight streaming through the window. "There. One more, and there will be a new handkerchief for each of us."

"Should not Mama be helping with that?" Elizabeth asked, nodding to the basket.

"I do not mind," Jane replied. "Now, let us write this invitation to the Darcys."

∞∞∞

"It is a charming place, really," Georgiana said as they walked down the cobblestone street. To do so took some attention, for the road was rather worn and would have benefitted from repairs.

Darcy did not mind that, so much as the contemptuous looks that people cast toward his sister. Thankfully, Mrs Younge kept her so busy by pointing out different shops and commenting on the various things to be seen in their windows that Georgiana did not seem to notice. Or if she did, she did not allow it to wipe the smile off her face. She linked her arm through Darcy's as they walked, and he was glad of the kinship they shared. It was odd indeed that the townspeople seemed to dislike her so. There was certainly no legitimate cause for dislike in Georgiana. It would have been hard to imagine a kinder or gentler young woman. She was only rather shy.

When they walked into the milliner's shop, the older woman greeted them with a smile, until she saw his sister. Her face fell as soon as Georgiana and Mrs Younge entered. "Oh, hello." She waved her hand around the shop, then quickly went back to her work. "Let me know if you need assistance with anything."

Darcy stood aside as the women looked around. Two other women came in a few minutes after them and began whispering behind their hands almost immediately.

The rest of the stroll around the village did little to alleviate his anger. No one seemed pleased to see Georgiana, no matter where they went. By the time they returned to the rented lodgings, Darcy was fit to be tied. He gave his gloves and hat to his valet and followed the ladies into the formal parlour.

"Has anyone come to call while we've been about town?" Georgiana asked the maid expectantly.

"No, Miss. Not a soul," the maid reported.

Georgiana's face fell, but she quickly recovered. "Well, no matter."

"But there was a letter delivered for you and Mr Darcy from Longbourn," the maid went on. She went to the silver tray and retrieved a single letter. "It arrived an hour ago."

"Very good. Thank you, Sally."

The maid curtsied and went out, closing the door behind her. Mrs Younge joined them in the sitting area and sat down in the chair across from him. Georgiana joined him on the settee and opened the letter. She scanned its contents, her smile growing wider with each line. "Oh! It is an invitation from Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She asks us to join them for supper. And her father has added a postscript. How very civil." She handed the letter to him to read.

∞∞∞

Dear Miss Darcy,

I hope this letter finds you and your brother well. Please send our fond regards to Mrs Younge, as well. We should like to invite you to join us for supper at Longbourn on Friday evening. I hope you will send me your acceptance straightaway — I should be delighted to enjoy your company and, after all you have told me of him, to meet your brother.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth Bennet

∞∞∞

The postscript from Mr Bennet was simple enough, merely repeating the invitation and expressing his intention to call on Darcy. There was nothing entirely objectionable in the letter, Darcy admitted to himself, but it irked him that this Elizabeth Bennet so obviously expected them to accept.

"It is a good letter, is it not?" Georgiana asked. He hated to crush her spirit, but after what Mrs Younge had told him on the day past, he was unsure how wise it would be to encourage the acquaintance.

"It is certainly to the point," Darcy replied, handing the letter back to her.

Her face fell. She scanned the letter again, her shoulders slumping. "Do you think it is too informal for such a brief acquaintance?"

Darcy hated to see the insecurity seeping back into her eyes. He had hoped she would make a goodly amount of friends in Meryton. It had pained him to see her so cloistered inside Pemberley, with nary a soul to talk to except her companion and the servants, especially when he was away on business. However, was it worth it to keep her here, where people had already rejected her? What kind of town was this that they should turn their backs on a girl who would never even hurt a fly?

"I think I shall wear my new pink satin gown. And what about your new blue waistcoat, Fitzwilliam? It would look very well with the dark suits you like so well, would it not?"

Georgiana's happy chatter called him back from his reveries. She looked at him expectantly, as if there were not even a question of their accepting the invitation. "What?"

"For the supper with the Bennets, of course. I said I think that new blue waistcoat you had made for you in London would do nicely. You brought it with you, did you not?"

Darcy stood, casting a knowing glance in Mrs Younge's direction. "Well, Georgiana, I am uncertain whether we should accept —"

"What? Why ever not?" Georgiana asked. "They have been so kind to me, Fitzwilliam. It would be rude to refuse them." She took a step back from him, something she had never done before. A pain clenched in his chest. He had hardly refused her anything since she was a little girl, but this could have a bearing on her future. If Elizabeth Bennet was only using Georgiana to get close to him, the pain of such a betrayal would be worse the longer he allowed their friendship to grow.

"I am not saying that we should never accept an invitation from them, but I should like to meet them first —"

"But you can meet them at supper. Please, Fitzwilliam," Georgiana pleaded. Her eyes were filled with such longing that he could not very well tell her no.

He sighed heavily and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Do you really want to go?"

She lifted her chin and gave a decided nod. "Yes. Yes, I do, brother."

Darcy let his hands fall back to his sides, defeated. "Then you may write back and accept."

Georgiana gave a squeal of delight, jumped up eagerly, and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll go write the letter now! Thank you, brother! Oh, thank you!" She rushed toward the parlour door and turned just as she was about to clear the door jamb. "You will not regret it, I promise you."

Once Georgiana had gone, he turned to Mrs Younge and took his seat once more. "I suppose accepting this supper invitation will be a good way for me to judge their character. If Elizabeth Bennet is trying to gain entrance to my society, and thus earn my good opinion, I will see through her ruse and better be able to protect my sister."

Mrs Younge shifted herself on the settee but did not look convinced. "If you say so, sir." She took a cautious sip of tea. "You know best."

For some reason, he did not think she meant that last part. But she was right, after all. He did know what was best for his sister, and no one could tell him otherwise. There was no need to fear this Elizabeth Bennet, anyway. Many women had thrown themselves at him in the past, and none of them had succeeded. He could hold out against a scheming young lady, however cunning she might be.