16 • Georgiana Darcy

If the power to evaporate were in his repertoire, James would use it. He peeked up to see Mr. Darcy equally baffled and lower into a bow. James initiated his and Kitty’s rising and stepped backward to find her hand. “My lord, I’m sorry to intrude—”

“You’re not,” Darcy breathed. James’ eyes flicked toward him to find those amber ones trained on him, but not angry. “I was told people were here to see the house, but I never imagined… Do you like it?”

He and Kitty were speechless, their silence adding to the already present tension between them. “Yes,” James managed to croak and he blurted, “It’s beautiful. Not like your aunt’s at all.”

Then, Darcy smiled. More, Darcy laughed. “Ehm,” he exclaimed with mirth, taken by surprise. “I cannot disagree. Goodness knows she’s tried to assert her influence, but to no success.”

James felt as if he had been struck by a door opening to a different world. His own blundering aside, Darcy…fit here, as he had nowhere else. A few words, and he was visibly the most comfortable he had ever been. And why would he not? The man was in his home.

“Was it you who was playing the piano?” Kitty’s voice yanked him back.

“Oh,” Darcy glanced behind him toward the music room. “Yes. We are a musical family, even though my skill is nowhere near my sister’s.”

“I thought it was wonderful!” she exclaimed.

James’ eyes felt like they were falling out of his head as the man’s head lowered. Darcy was…bashful. “You are too kind.”

“I’m not, usually,” she blurted.

James’ eyes widened. “We need to be getting back.”

“Back?” Darcy took a step forward.

“We came with our aunt and uncle,” he said, and saw Darcy’s eyes lower to his hand sandwiched between Kitty’s.

“All of you?”

Kitty giggled against his shoulder as he amended, “No, just myself, Kitty, and our aunt and uncle Gardiner. And—em…”

“Darcy?” the namesake raised his brows at the squirming cat. James exhaled, unable to conjure an answer. “Why are you in Derbyshire?” he pushed softly.

James’ mouth opened to speak but his gaze was trapped in Darcy’s. His chest swelled but still no words used the air. Thankfully Kitty supplied, “Our aunt used to live here! She is a friend to your housekeeper — Mrs. Reynolds won’t be in trouble, will she?”

Darcy’s eyes flicked to her, releasing James. “No, she is not in trouble. I’ve given her liberties to see her family and close friends through the house before. She lives here too, after all.”

His eyes pulled back to Jamie, who was distracting the cat with several kisses to its forehead. The first froze the creature in a stunned daze before it recovered and twisted around to paw his mouth and bite his nose. Kitty’s attention moved between them before she said, “We thought they might be in the gallery upstairs.”

Darcy blinked. “Yes, likely. The gallery is Mrs. Reynolds’ favourite room. I’ll take you there.”

He strode past them to reopen the doors Kitty had shut and waited in the vast corridor where — what was a grand staircase to them but likely just another set of stairs to Darcy — rose from the floor below, used the corridor to wind around, and then led up once more to the upper levels. James’ heart shuddered as he realized Darcy intended to walk beside him.

“You were not far off. The stairs lead directly into the gallery,” he narrated for Kitty ahead of them. She lifted her skirts and eagerly skipped up the stairs, leaving James and Darcy with enough room for their own conversation. “I am surprised you brought the cat with you.”

The animal in question was only behaving since James held it under his chin for belly rubs while it gnawed on the ends of his hair. “My aunt’s children are in Longbourn, and there are too many for anyone to pay much attention to this one.”

“Is there not another cat?” Darcy remembered.

“There is, but I haven’t introduced them. Cats do not always get along as immediately as dogs.”

“I see,” he voiced, and fell silent as they crested the stairs. Before them was a long, wide hall which was clearly the gallery. Paintings of all sizes hung around them; even the ceiling was a landscape of forest fringing a cloudy peach sky.

James reacted to the rough sound deep in Darcy’s chest. “What?”

“They’re looking at my portrait.”

James had not even seen them yet, but he now realized the figures on the other end of the gallery were indeed his family gazing up at a figure before a dark backdrop.

“I moved the smaller one, but Mrs. Reynolds is relentless,” Darcy complained, and James was sure he was ogling the man like a fish. Darcy did not like his own portraits. He was complaining about it. How in the world had James ever thought he was proud?

Darcy peeked down at him and returned, “What is it?”

James snapped his mouth shut and looked away. “Nothing. We…just missed each other, then. She showed us your father’s parlour first.”

“Oh. Yes,” was all Darcy said. James noticed his steps were slowing, as if reluctant to reach his portrait.

James asked, “Where is your sister?”

Darcy looked at him. “Georgiana arrives tomorrow.”

James puzzled, “You don’t travel together?”

“We do,” he assured, “but I had matters to attend to, and she is not alone. Now I understand why the townsfolk were amused when I returned.”

His eyes once more fell to the cat, who James had set down since there was little to no furniture for it to destroy or hide under. He sputtered, “I didn’t mean — I didn’t — the cat’s name is not meant to be a jape of you.”

“I was not insulted,” Darcy replied calmly. “Only…confused. The children were meowing and the adults were laughing. It never occurred to me that I was even remotely the cause. On the contrary, you leave a lasting impression.”

James was sure the heat rising in his face radiated all the way to Darcy. He looked away and soon heard, “Have I said something wrong?”

“No, not at all. It’s nothing more than I deserve,” James disregarded, moving to step away.

A sharper clip on the floor sounded as Darcy stepped with him. “I meant it was a good impression.”

“My lord,” James rushed. “I didn’t…know that you would be here. Your housekeeper informed us that you would not be here until tomorrow. I never meant to be so forward as to intrude in your home.”

“I told you, you’re not intruding,” Darcy soothed. “Although I am curious…how long are you to be in Derbyshire?”

James admitted, “For the week, to be sure.”

Darcy nodded thoughtfully. “Then I wonder what your thoughts were that I would be returning at all, during your time here.”

James did not have an answer. “I didn’t have…I don’t know,” he finished softly.

Darcy’s features were gentle as he released him from the inquiry. “Though it is good fortune you are here at this time. The rest of the party with whom Georgiana and I were traveling is to arrive early tomorrow, and among them are some who will claim an acquaintance with you. I mean Charles Bingley and his sisters.”

James’ eyes swooped up as he repeated bluntly, “His sisters? ”

Mirth splashed across Darcy’s face. “Yes, his sisters. Bingleys come in threes, inescapably.”

James closed his mouth. Both because he was caught between laughter and shock — shock that Darcy had incited the mirth — and because Darcy had quite said it all. He read James’ expression and a small smile softened his features.

Darcy looked up and, seeing that the Gardiners had noticed them, broke their gaze. “I meant to finish my affairs quickly. I must go. Where are you staying?”

James’ heart did strange things before the name of the inn fell out of his mouth. Darcy bowed curtly, and was striding back from the direction they came. In a daze, James met his family partway through the gallery. Kitty held his arm while his aunt voiced, “That was him, surely? Goodness, he does have a presentable figure…”

The housekeeper chortled. “I hope you won’t take offense? He’s back early, and surely is rushing to make the house and affairs ready for his guests.”

“Guests? Notables from London?” Mrs. Gardiner asked as they continued through the house. James scooped up the kitten and held it close, no longer interested in the house so much as the owner.

Thankfully they moved out of doors to see the various gardens. Most of the estate was rustic woodland, but groomed to provide space for lounging or sport. James had his head turned longingly for the more decorated flower garden when Kitty squeezed his arm. “Oh my god, he’s coming back.”

The Bennets gawked at Lord Darcy striding forward while the housekeeper curtsied, inducing the Gardiners’ attention to turn. James could not read him; whether Darcy felt more pain or pleasure in seeing each other, but he bowed with composure to his unlikely guests.

“I trust Mrs. Reynolds is seeing to your every need?”

“Certainly, my lord,” Mr. Gardiner said upon standing up straight. “And a fine job she does for your house!”

“Though I was just about to ask for a respite,” his wife voiced. “As an urban breed, I am not a great walker. I am sorry to have drawn you out this far, my lord.”

“I’ve actually just had tea set out on the west side of the house for you,” Darcy assured, “not a far walk at all from here.”

Sure enough, between the water around the house and the trees, the estate was large as well as deceptively easy to navigate. Darcy led the way up to the veranda, where covered trays protected a tea set and sandwiches. Mr. Gardiner occupied Darcy’s attention regarding the river and lakes around the place, fond as he was of fishing. Darcy met it with the knowledge to appease him and more: the promise to fish there as often as he chose during their week here.

Mrs. Gardiner, who sat opposite James, looked at him with no small amount of wonder before she japed, “You are too kind, sir, or too smart, for though my husband is fond of fishing, he will certainly not thin the lake of inhabitants.”

Mr. Gardiner harrumphed but said nothing to interrupt Darcy’s reply. “As long as they were well seasoned and enjoyed, I would not mind. My guests tomorrow are not the type to notice a shortage of stock. They do not fish.”

A short burst of air came from James’ nose. The notion of any Bingley fishing was ludicrous, although Charles would certainly give it his best go.

Not ones to overstay a welcome, the Gardiners soon declared it their time to depart, and thanked Darcy for the late luncheon and tea as he walked them to the front of the house. James was handing Kitty into the carriage when Darcy said, “Do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance? She would be overjoyed to meet you.”

Kitty, half hanging out of the carriage to gape with Jamie, waited for their aunt and uncle to reply. Husband and wife looked at each other and responded a resounding pleasure to do so. Then the family was within the carriage, Mr. Gardiner sitting with the driver, as his wife otherwise voiced all of her thoughts on Mr. Darcy.

“Don’t get me wrong, my dear friend has lived there for the better part of thirty years and has certainly fanned the flames of his character. I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes, her fondness breeching into the territory of mothering. But there is something so pleasing about his mouth when he speaks. It is not common, a baritone that soft yet clear upon the ear.”

I know, James thought bluntly, pressing his fingertips into his eyes and enthusiastically looking forward to a nap before dinner.

* * * * * * *

“Are we really going to meet his sister?” Kitty said the moment he opened his eyes. Hers and the cat’s glowed in the darkness descending around the inn. Outside of their room could be heard the general hubbub of tenants readying for supper.

True to his promise to the neighborhood, however, he postponed that line of thought in favour of letting the children of the village play the kitten to exhaustion. Thus he and Kitty were allowed to talk throughout the night while the creature slept between them. “Darcy is not the sort of man to offer empty words. He means for us to meet her.”

“Do you think she is much like her brother?” Kitty worried.

“Are you and I much like each other?” he considered.

“Not at all,” she worried. “Have you heard much about her?”

“Not enough upon which is sound reason to judge a Darcy,” James refused. “But he said the Bingleys were arriving as well.”

“Really?” she perked up before deflating somewhat. “His sisters do not care for me.”

“They care for few apart from themselves,” he consoled. “Charles is kind enough.”

“Will he think ill of me and Lydia for forcing the Netherfield ball?”

“No. Charles likes festivities, and he won’t be cruel to you.”

He did not mention how it was possible they would not even meet the Bingleys, if Caroline had her say. It would not surprise James in the slightest if she kept her brother away from any Bennet for the week.

Kitty’s lips pursed to the side as she thought, and then uttered, “Why did you name the cat, Darcy?”

James sighed. “It was a mistake I cannot take back now. He answers to it.”

“Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

James was content with closing his eyes and letting the matter drop, but Kitty asked, “Would you tell Jane if you thought he was handsome?”

“What are you on about?” his eyes opened.

“Nothing. Never mind,” she said.

They joined their aunt and uncle the next morning to break their fast and listen to the potential plans for the day. There was a boutique their aunt wanted to visit as well as a number of places Mr. Gardiner was intrigued to see before a great commotion sounded downstairs.

“Is he here? You know how he walks around! What if we’re too late?”

A woman’s voice laughed as a man murmured a reply. James and Kitty froze, staring at each other before the latter realized, “Is that—?”

“James!”

The entire dining room rotated to see Charles Bingley crest the stairs and maneuver through the tables. James had just managed to stand when Charles threw his arms around him. “I thought William was lying, the bastard! Or making a joke of me!”

“Then he remembered how my brother isn’t funny,” the woman seconded.

“Um,” James blurted, but his sole focus quickly went to holding himself and Charles up.

He heard his aunt and uncle rise from the table and begin to greet, “My l—”

“Lovely eggs, yes,” she cut off. “Would we be overly imposing if we dined with you all?”

Charles finally released James and he was able to properly look at Georgiana Darcy. Her brother stood beside her, looking mildly apologetic while she was otherwise composed and smiling. James pulled his eyes to the others in the room, their various states of rising, should the new comers be someone important to greet.

James’ eyes flicked to Georgiana’s, and he silently fetched a chair from an empty table. Charles followed suit, quickly helping him to pull a table alongside theirs with the necessary chairs, and then all were seated for composure to return to the room. By the manner in which the innkeepers stood at the door and waiters brought fresh platters of food, they knew perfectly well who had strolled into their establishment. They were likewise silent for the other tenants to remain oblivious.

James could hardly process his rising embarrassment, let alone observe the picture they made. He could only try to send Kitty reassuring glances across from him as Charles sat next to him and the Lady Georgiana next to her. Darcy took the end of the table, his eyes lingering on Charles but he said nothing.

Georgiana extended her hand over the table to more casually greet the Gardiners. It was some surprise to James that her hands were not gloved, but he was given the time to further observe her before she got to him. Miss Darcy was tall like her brother, and though little more than sixteen, her figure was well formed; womanly and graceful. As Mr. Gardiner had noted from her miniature, she had her mother’s colouring: all light ambers and faint golds. Together the Darcy siblings had richly warm eyes.

She is less handsome than him, James realized distantly, and then outwardly startled at his own thoughts. Charles was speaking but he could feel Darcy’s eyes on him and realized it was doubled. It was a startling thing, having two pairs of the same eyes on him. James wondered briefly if this was how people felt when he and Jane were next to each other. Georgiana smiled, good humour and sense in her face. She played the part of unassuming well enough as she gently reached for him.

“My brother’s told me a great deal about you.”

“Good lord,” he blurted, horrified.

“James,” his uncle warned, but she and Charles laughed heartily.

“He’s a delight, I promise you,” the latter grinned, “and Miss Bennet! I hardly expected to see you here!”

“Kitty, please,” she smiled shyly. “It’s easier to differentiate us now.”

Charles’ smile faltered. “I always knew which one you were.”

Her eyes lifted brightly as James rescued, “It is a surprise either of us are here. My aunt is the one with the connection to Derbyshire.”

“That’s not true,” Georgiana said with her chin resting on her fingers. One of them pointed to her brother. “Did this fool never invite you?”

Darcy coughed on his tea, stunning the table. James fumbled, “He…might have. I’m not the best listener.”

“Huh?” Kitty puzzled. James silently begged her to keep quiet.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re here now,” Georgiana navigated tactfully. She then asked what plans they had interrupted, providing the Gardiners the opening they needed to eagerly manage the conversation. The three arrivals, indeed, incited a lively attention. James was certain his aunt’s observations were directed toward Charles after having Jane for so long, but also to the Darcys. James could not help himself either; the pair carried the same sort of confidence and silent dialogue that he shared with Jane. There were moments when Georgiana would say something and look to her brother for verification. The admiration meeting her was evident enough.

When his aunt and uncle’s reign ended, he realized the lull that ensued was waiting for him. He alone knew two of the party, and the third was obviously there to meet him. Georgiana appeared bright and eager, Darcy calmly determined, and Bingley ready for anything.

“I heard your sisters were with you,” James provided toward Charles. “How long until they manifest around us?”

“I don’t have a curfew!” Charles accused. “And frankly I’m as good as a phantom the moment Georgi appears. If they do show themselves, it will be for her, not I.”

Charles’ arm rested across the back of his chair, familiar and nostalgic. James missed him, but not without likewise longing for Jane. Charles had not yet given any hint as to his often, if any, recollecting her.

“Yes, I am so curiously popular,” Georgiana voiced, earning surprise from the rest of the table.

“Well,” Charles tried to salvage, “my siblings are overly affectionate. A symptom to being orphans before the eldest was married.”

But the way Georgiana’s eyes moved, avoiding others until they flickered up to his and then switched to James…the lady was shyer than she let on.

However long their gaze lasted, she then broke it and changed, “Thankfully we pushed through the night and arrived well before the sun. It should not surprise me at all if they are still sleeping now.”

“You don’t require sleep?” James wondered.

“Alas, I don’t sleep much,” Georgiana replied.

“Neither does he,” Kitty commented. James smiled faintly.

“I wonder if it is because of a creature of which I’ve heard tellings,” she looked back at him. “But I suppose cats are not allowed in the dining room.”

“He is in our rooms,” he granted. “I am finished here, so I will be just outside with him.”

“I’ll join you!” Charles shot to his feet, and followed James out of the room. “Did you know that Caroline forbade us from having pets? Not that Louisa argued against anything; it was a scheme for the sake of protecting their dresses and slippers, but I do miss dogs.”

“I should warn you that cats are a bit different from dogs,” James laughed as he unlocked his door. The small Darcy met him eagerly, yelling around his ankles and then purring in his hands as the door shut behind them.

Plopping himself down on the grass outside of the inn and wiggling his fingers at the cat, Charles grinned, “I would have twenty of each.”

“Twenty,” James huffed with mirth. “Be serious.”

“Charles is always serious,” Georgiana’s voice sounded from the inn’s doors. The kitten spooked at the rustle of her skirts and then waddled over them, pouncing on mountains of air and silk. As her hand slid over its back, she exclaimed, “William said my aunt had its mother killed? And then you made a spectacle of yourself rescuing it?”

Charles intercepted, “Is kindness a spectacle?”

James smiled softly. “I don’t know what goes on in the great minds of lords and ladies.”

“Gilded hogwash, mostly,” Georgiana murmured, taking James completely off guard before he doubled over with laughter.

He heard her giggle and Charles’s soft laughter before he recovered to say, “My sister, Jane, would like you; if for nothing else, than your refreshing cynicism. She too often puts up with my own.”

“How is she?” Charles blurted. The breath in voice drew James’ gaze to those blue, blue eyes, suddenly so filled with…a kind of sad hope. He seemed to read James’ expression like a mirror and bowed his head. “I only mean, I’ve realized it has been a very long time since I’ve had the pleasure of seeing her. We have not met since we were all dancing together at Netherfield. It was perfect.”

James’ lashes sagged over his eyes even while his heart did a clumsy flight upward at his words. Charles’ lips parted, ready to say something more, but a clip of a boot over the inn’s stairs was heard, and then Darcy saying, “Perfection is an abstract concept created out of man’s imagination.”

Charles appeared crestfallen, but only as long as it took Georgiana to declare, “Good grief, one would think you’re not romantic. Sit down.”

James peered at the grass she suggested, and then up at Darcy, who had the most genuine look of confusion he had ever beheld. He silently did as he was bid, settling between his sister and Charles, his eyes again flicking to Charles’ placement next to James.

James quickly made to rise, “I should get blankets or we can move to the benches—”

“You needn’t,” Darcy interjected. Charles and Georgiana watched him as he otherwise held James’ gaze. “It’s been a long time since anyone of my house has seen a grass stain. I must test their skills on occasion.”

Georgiana laughed, her tone full of surprise. “Careful, you sound too much like myself.”

James smiled warily as he said quietly, “I think your raiment costs thrice as much as his, my lady.”

“And I hear you dig around gardens for cats. Can’t we have a little fun while we are yet still anonymous?”

James granted her a smile but his head turned at the sound of children nearby. “I do not know how much longer that will be, my lady.”

“DARCY? Darcy!”

“Is it Darcy?”

“It’s Darcy!”

“Oh!” she piped as children, who almost fell over themselves to bow, swarmed them. “No, no, you’re clearly here for this one. Don’t mind us.”

They looked at James for guidance, who simply hoisted the cat into the air, before pulling it back when one reached for it. “Gently, remember?”

The child nodded and he relinquished the creature. Their high pitched voices quickly softened into coos. To their credit, the children were more interested in watching and petting it than vigorous play. James turned back to stare at the man opposite him. Lord Darcy’s expression was one of deep contemplation with a raised brow until he came to a decision. “That won’t do. You must call me William.”

James’ own brows lifted while Charles and Georgiana laughed. Without a reply, he lifted himself to sit upon the benches lining the front of the inn. He averted his gaze and forced composure as the bench lightly creaked with the added weight of Mr. Darcy. James was suddenly aware of the picture he made: hair hardly brushed and bits of grass on his trousers, including a small white blossom stuck on his laces. It was no more than a weed, surely, which seemed too symbolic — a pretty weed that had somehow found itself among silks and—

“Did you enjoy the books?”

James looked at him vacantly. “What?”

Darcy looked at the flower he had plucked from his boots. “There was a book on horticulture, or something like it… In the pile I gave you from Charles’ library.”

James felt his mouth hanging open. “You?”

“I replaced Charles’s so you might keep the ones you selected,” Darcy elaborated, his expression slowly falling. “Did you not like them?”

Dumbfounded, James’ brows deepened as he pointed at the inn. “I have them with me! I mean, some — You…? But Charles gave them to me.”

“During an unfortunate meeting I had not planned for,” Darcy nodded. James had to think back to that day, realizing it was the first moment Darcy had made plain his connection and regards toward Wickham. “It was fortunate Charles was carrying them, or else you might not have ever received them.”

Astounded, James exclaimed, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Darcy’s expression opened. “I did not think you’d had enough time to read them all at your leisure. And it hardly mattered from whose hands you received them, as long as you did and then enjoyed them.”

James rested his back against the bench, processing. “I know you’re not good at conversation, but it might have cured some initial misconceptions.”

“I am aware of how others view me,” he consoled. “I have learned to not hear them as anything of consequence. Their judgments are usually the same as one thinks of beauty. A look is all it takes for an immediate conclusion, an unfair decision upon which the entire relationship or lack thereof is built upon.”

James did not have a ready reply to that, so far was he in his astonishment and anguish at Darcy’s simple kindness.

Then Darcy voiced, “Though, perhaps, a little more effort would not be unwarranted.”

James huffed, clearing his throat. “Don’t strain yourself.”

Darcy eyed him. “You said you have them with you?”

“Did I?”

“You did.”

“That makes me a slow reader, then, doesn’t it?”

“And a fast talker,” he agreed patiently. “Perhaps you should read as much as you talk.”

“And vice versa to you,” he retorted, sounding childish in his own ears before he blushed at the sight of Darcy’s smirk.

“I’ll try,” he relinquished softly.

“Fine,” James returned.

The Gardiners joined them, then, and the fishing scheme was not long afterward renewed. Darcy was gracious and accommodating, rising from the bench only after Mr. Gardiner extended the invitation to James. “Are you joining us?”

James fixed him with a look. “When have you ever known me to fish, uncle?”

“I thought you might discover the interest if the lake was in our company’s property,” he declared with a slight warning in his voice. “Though I suppose you were always more of the fish and less the fisherman.”

Darcy looked at him. “You swim?”

“Why not?”

“I did not think it was common for inland people to know how to swim,” Darcy admitted.

James returned, “But you fish?”

“Only when I have to,” he replied so quietly James almost missed it. He turned his head but failed to hide his snicker.

The party was leaving with Mr. Gardiner while his wife, James, and Kitty were free to do as they wished. They were slowly strolling back into the inn when Georgiana ran back through the stone gates and grasped James’ arm to halt him. “Will you return the honour of having breakfast with us tomorrow?”

James blinked vacantly at her before the only reply he had slipped out of his lips. “May I bring my sister?”

Her smile was sunlight. “Yes, of course. Bring whomever you wish. But you will come?”

He nodded deeply. “I am your servant, my lady.”

She giggled. “I doubt that very much, but I’ll have you for as long as I can.”