Chapter 14

Music Room

After Dinner

Darcy pushed open the door to the music room where the ladies had repaired after dinner. It had been decorated some years before to fit Georgiana’s tastes – with warm colors and an airy feel. Several candlesticks and a massive fire had been lit by the servants before the party had arrived, and now the room was flooded with welcome heat. The orange firelight touched the yellows and the peachy pinks of the room with gold, the brass candlesticks aglow like pieces from the royal treasury.

The harp sat abandoned and silent in the corner, half hidden in the shadows. A multi-armed candelabra set atop the pianoforte lit it up brilliantly, and Miss Bennet, seated on the bench, was a vision in her green dress and dark hair turned a deep chestnut by the light, and she played a charming piece while the other ladies watched and listened. Darcy was relieved that no new unpleasantness had broken out in the ladies’ short separation from the men.

Dinner had been an awkward and slightly uncomfortable affair, but not nearly as bad as it could have been. Everyone had come down in their fine dinner dresses and coats and been more or less stiltedly polite. Darcy had ensured that the feuding Miss Bennet and Miss Bingley were placed as far from each other at the table as could be arranged, with Georgiana beside Miss Bennet and Miss Bingley safely sequestered at the far end beyond Mrs. Hurst.

Hurst had relapsed back into a stoic silence and applied himself heartily to his trencher, but Bingley was, to Darcy’s relief, returning to his usual gregarious self. Every so often he would fall quiet, a melancholy look in his eyes, but he could be drawn easily enough from these downcast moments with a light remark addressed to him. No doubt he was still dejected over his separation from the former Miss Jane Bennet, but perhaps his increasing cheer was indicative of a healing heart.

Neither Bingley nor Hurst had objected when Darcy drank his port rapidly so that the gentlemen could quickly join the ladies. They were all, Darcy thought with a wry smile, anxious to prevent any truly serious altercations from flaring up between the women.

The peace of the music room was a boon, and Miss Bennet’s performance was pleasing. She lacked Georgiana’s great technical skill, but she played with verve and enthusiasm, and the lively air lifted Darcy’s heart.

The song came to an end, and Darcy clapped his appreciation. Miss Bingley, who had been staring at Elizabeth, turned toward the door and smiled brightly. “Gentlemen, you find us enjoying ourselves on the instrument!”

“Indeed,” Darcy agreed and looked at the fair performer still at the pianoforte. “Thank you for providing such lovely music, Miss Bennet.”

“It was my pleasure, of course,” the lady replied cheerfully, rising to her feet. “Now, who would like to play for us next?”

“My dear Miss Darcy,” Caroline Bingley said in a fawning tone, turning toward Georgiana, who was seated on a yellow settee. “I am certain we would all enjoy listening to you play.”

Darcy winced as Georgiana’s eyes widened in panic. She was a truly excellent musician, but she was also extremely shy, especially when it came to playing in front of others.

“Miss Bingley,” Miss Bennet said quickly. “I know that you and your sister make a delightful pair; Mrs. Hurst has a wonderful voice. Would you, perhaps, be willing to entertain us?”

This, of course, appealed to Bingley’s sisters, and after the slightest show of reluctance, both ladies made their way to the pianoforte, whereupon Miss Bingley, after searching through the available music, found a difficult piece and played it, while Mrs. Hurst sang.

Darcy, who enjoyed good music, found himself more distracted than usual, as Miss Bennet had chosen to seat herself next to Georgiana. He found himself glancing toward the two ladies frequently, and was relieved to observe his younger sister noticeably relaxing. Georgiana seemed to like Miss Bennet very well, which, while not surprising, was a relief.

Bingley’s sisters played and sang for two songs, and then, after a round of enthusiastic applause, stood up and Miss Bingley said, once again, “Miss Darcy, now will you not play for us?”

Darcy could hardly keep from grinding his teeth. Was it not obvious that Georgiana was nervous about playing in company?

“Miss Darcy, I noticed that you have music sheets for Mozart’s Allegro in F major,” Miss Bennet said. “I have difficulty with that piece; would you be willing to play it while I turn the pages and watch your fingering?”

Darcy, watching Georgiana, observed her brighten with pleasure.

“Of course, Miss Bennet,” she said, rising to her feet with alacrity.

Darcy was startled at his sister’s quick surrender, but then caught sight of Caroline Bingley’s smug expression. Within a minute, he realized why. The piece in question was not a difficult one. Georgiana played it with complete ease, and Miss Bennet’s admission to struggling with that piece was not a positive reflection upon her own skill.

He knew that he was not adept at truly understanding the motivations of those around him – the former Jane Bennet was an obvious example of his own blindness – but he was quite certain that he knew what was happening here. Miss Bennet, seeing Georgiana’s anxiety over performing, had made it easy for the young lady to play a simpler piece without feeling any sense of shame. Miss Bennet had kindly denigrated her own abilities to make Georgiana feel at peace.

She was truly a marvelous woman, Miss Bennet. Kind, intelligent, friendly…

It was a pity that he could not marry her.

And he could not, could he?

The tumult in his mind and heart were increasing by the day, and his dreams at night were often filled with images of Elizabeth Bennet as mistress of the estate, as sister to Georgiana, as mother to his children…

He truly did not know what to do.

/

Billiard Room

Pemberley

Midnight

Darcy carefully added a log to the fire and then sat down again, enjoying the pleasant dimness of the room. He and Bingley had just finished playing a game of billiards and now were relaxing together in front of the fire, appreciating silence after a long and challenging day. Richard had departed some time previously in order to escort his wife up to bed, and Hurst had only just said his goodnights and followed, and the candles beside the door still wavered in the residual draft. The fire cast a low glow and leaping shadows across the oak-paneled walls and wainscoting, and Darcy turned back towards the welcome warmth.

Bingley finally moved, lifting the glass of Madeira in his hand to take a swallow, and gazed at the glowing logs, with their occasional showers of sparks.

“So, Darcy,” he remarked, “I looked over those papers regarding estates for sale in Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire, and I am thinking that Greymond might be the best option.”

Darcy sat down across from his friend and regarded him with surprise. “Truly?”

Bingley wrinkled his nose and said, “I know what you told me, that Greymond has been badly neglected, but you also said that the land is itself excellent, and given sufficient attention and money, could prove nearly as rich as Pemberley itself. I know that … well, if there is one thing I have realized in the last days, it is that I have been entirely too lazy for some years. My father wished me to purchase an estate, and I leased Netherfield to learn how to be a good master of land. Then I fell in love with Jane Bennet and devoted myself largely to parties and courtship, only to abandon her like a clodpoll. Before I pursue another lady, I need to mature. I need to labor at something worthwhile, and I think purchasing an estate with real problems that require diligence and hard work would be best for me.”

“That is very wise,” Darcy said approvingly, and then started in surprise as a familiar voice inquired, “So, Bingley, you are intending to purchase an estate?”

Darcy and Bingley turned to observe Richard Fitzwilliam a few feet away, pouring wine into a spare glass. The conversation and the sound of the crackling fire had drowned out the former colonel’s entrance into the room.

Darcy blinked at his cousin and then nodded. “I had forgotten you were not part of that discussion, Richard. Yes, Bingley has given up Netherfield Hall in Hertfordshire and is hunting for an estate elsewhere. I sent out letters of inquiry and have received some possibilities, and Bingley has been looking over the information that has arrived thus far.”

“And Greymond is not well maintained?” Richard asked, turning a curious look on Bingley as he sat down on a convenient chair.

“Yes, precisely,” Bingley agreed. “It is a large estate some forty miles from here, and the owner has been irresponsible for many years.”

“Sir Mark Montague is a baronet,” Darcy interpolated, “with a notable passion for the gaming tables. He has finally decided to sell so that he does not end up in debtors’ prison.”

“I see,” Richard said. “You know, Rosings is not in particularly good heart either, thanks to my mother-in-law’s extravagance. I hope that you do not mind if I insert myself into this conversation. Darcy, you are the expert among us. Could you provide some guidance about how to effectively use our money and time to improve an estate whose tenants and fields and fences have been neglected?”

Darcy nodded his approval. “Of course, I would be honored to provide my insights to you both.”