Page 16 of A Quiet Affection

Georgiana quickly became a sweet darling companion who was ready to participate in any games that Elizabeth made up, willing to play any duet that Elizabeth suggested at the piano, and generally happy to read any book of fairy tales aloud (if the words were simple enough for her to manage). Most importantly, Georgiana did not think that Elizabeth was a helpless burden who must be pitied always. She held Elizabeth in as much awe as a girl of seven ought to think of any much bigger girl who by now had achieved her twelfth birthday.

Despite an essential core of self-sufficiency, Elizabeth Bennet was a social being who loved to speak and talk to others, and who had been extremely lonely after Fitzwilliam left.

Within a month Elizabeth and Georgiana were the dearest of friends, and Georgiana shared everything in her heart with her: How terribly scared she was of disappointing her father, how Fitzwilliam was a perfect brother—this topic pleased Elizabeth equally—how charming and handsome George Wickham was, how the best most pleasant thing in the world was to play on the piano, and to how very pretty Miss Wilson was, even if she was nearly fifty.

Elizabeth heard the story several times about the night that Georgiana’s mother had died, and about how devastatedFitzwilliam had been when they called him home from school. She heard about how Jane had barely ate for weeks after they’d all heard about poor Mr. Bennet and all of Elizabeth’s family. She learned about how nice the housekeeper Mrs. Reynolds always was and which of the kitchen maids would give Georgiana a cookie if she asked with a sweet smile.

Georgiana was the first person that Elizabeth told about how she’d held Lydia’s hand when her little sister was crushed by the falling beam. She talked about how much she hated the scarf over her eyes that Mr. Darcy insisted she wear, because it itched, because it meant that she couldn’t tell if it was day or night, which she could otherwise from the light, and because she hated the color black. Elizabeth told Georgiana about how highly she thought about Fitzwilliam, and about how he’d always sent letters to her father, and how sadhehad said he was about what happened. Elizabeth told Georgiana that she was determined to not be a burden on Jane, even if she did not yet know how to avoid burdening her.

Georgiana offered that Lizzy could stay withherwhen they were both older, since she would never be a burden forherto have about.

This left Elizabeth feeling deeply touched, and happier than she had felt since the fire.

But, no matter how close she became to Georgiana, there was much that Elizabeth refused to speak about. She knew that the roiling anger she felt towards Jane and towards Mr. Darcy and sometimes towards the whole entire world was not proper. These were not feelings that she should put into the mind of a girl who was terribly young and impressionable, and who thought very highly of Elizabeth.

Mr. Darcy hosted Lord Matlock, the brother of his late wife, and Lady Catherine, her sister, at Pemberley during the Christmas season.

Lady Catherine did not think much of Elizabeth and she sternly lectured Georgiana until the young girl sobbed; she spoke in a sneering way about Jane that made Elizabeth angry, despite her own unhappiness with her sister; and Lady Catherine inquired at length about their connections in Meryton, before deciding that they were contemptible, and far too low for her liking. She once scolded Elizabeth for tripping over her cane, as though it wasElizabeth’sfault that Lady Catherine had placed it in the path of the blind girl.

Further, Lady Catherine did not like the notion of having children out in the drawing room for more than an hour at most, and while her daughter, who was of an age with Jane, was kept down, Elizabeth and Georgiana were sent up to the nursery far earlier than they usually were to accommodate this preference.

When this happened for the second time, the night before Fitzwilliam was supposed to arrive at Pemberley, the two children complained to each other at great length about Georgiana’s aunt. Georgiana told Elizabeth many stories about her most annoying behaviors, and about how her mother and Lady Catherine had planned for Fitzwilliam to marry Lady Catherine’s daughter.

“I hope he doesn’t!” Georgiana said. “I wouldn’t want to have Lady Catherine visit more often. And Anne is so dull and sallow, and she scarce says a word in company.”

“Youscarce say a word with those you do not know very well,” Elizabeth replied to her friend. “Perhaps she is merely shy.”

At this time Elizabeth still had in mind how it had been necessary to go to some length to cultivate her friendship with Georgiana, and that it had been most worthwhile.

This notion did not please Georgiana, who after several attempts to convince Elizabeth of the utter dullness of Anne de Bourgh, challenged Elizabeth to make a friend of her if she could.

Elizabeth however declined to make the effort. For an odd reason she could not explain to herself the story that Fitzwilliam was meant to marry Miss de Bourgh gave Elizabeth a feeling of antipathy and distaste for the girl, that was in no way mollified by the fact that she had not heard the girl mumble more than three words.

Soon they both went to bed, though it was yet early. But when Georgiana fell asleep, Elizabeth snuck out of the bed. She wandered into a room from which she knew that she could hear loud conversations that occurred in the drawing room, and she was rewarded by Lady Catherine’s loud voice. Not being the sort of girl who thought exceedingly ill of the practice of eavesdropping, Elizabeth sat to listen.

“I do not like those Bennet girls being here. Can you not send them off to a school?” Most conversations were muffled, but Lady Catherine was easy to hear.

“I am their guardian,” Mr. Darcy’s solemn, barely audible, voice replied.

“Oh, nonsense. Send them to school. Simply off to school. That fulfills your duty to attend to their education and welfare—no fortune, no consequence. There is no purpose to paying them such attention.”

“You know that I have paid Miss Bennet a great deal of attention for many years,” Mr. Darcy said. “She is my goddaughter, and I take that responsibility seriously. And I have a solemn moralobligation to do all that I might to prepare Miss Elizabeth for her future.”

“I do not like their presence.”

There was burst of male laughter. Elizabeth thought it was from Lord Matlock. He’d been kind enough to her and Jane and given all of the children chocolates, and protested, though not strongly, when Lady Catherine had Elizabeth and Georgiana sent to the nursery.

“I do not,” Lady Catherine repeated, louder.

“It is not your place to like or dislike my arrangements,” Mr. Darcy said coldly. “I respect you as Anne’s sister, and for the love that she always held for you, but my duty is always of paramount importance to me.”

“Are you not worried about letting such a pretty girl as Jane Bennet hang about your son? He is just of an age to be influenced into foolishness, and she has exactly the look to do so.”

“Jove,” Lord Matlock exclaimed. “She is not yet fifteen.” He then said something in a quieter voice that Elizabeth could not catch.

“Am I the only one here who is prudent? Darcy, you always liked the notion that Anne and I had that Fitzwilliam[GB2]would one day marry my daughter. Would you let that chance, to unify two of the great fortunes of England, be destroyed by a nobody from Hertfordshire, even if she is your goddaughter?”

Mr. Darcy coldly replied, “My son is of Darcy blood. By Jove, he will control his instincts. He will never be the sort of man to make a fool of himself over a woman, no matter how beautiful she is. And as for any such marriage, it can only be decided upon when we know what your daughter’s character settles into once she is of an age to marry.”