A Peculiar Connection (14 page)

That night, the table was lovely, and we doubtless complimented Jane to excess, but she seemed grateful for our remarks. I gathered that a prolonged visit from Mr. Bingley’s sisters would not prove easy for my sister to endure. Mr. Bingley, however, remained as attentive to her as he had before they married. I was glad to see that the familiarity of marriage had not dampened his affection.

After dinner, we suffered through Mary’s recital and appreciated Mrs. Hurst’s talent as she exhibited herself with a spirited rondo by Haydn. Mr. Hurst woke up once cards were suggested, and my parents joined Mr. Bingley and him at the table.

“Miss Eliza,” Miss Bingley called to me as I walked across the room to sit beside Jane. “Shall you also spend the Season in Town, or do you prefer country solitude? I hear you remained but a short while at Pemberley. I do hope that grand house did not cause you to feel out of place.”

“Not at all, Miss Bingley. The family could not have made me more welcome.”

“Indeed? Did Mr. Darcy introduce you to Derbyshire society? And what did they make of his recent discovery that you were a distant relative? Were they much intrigued?”

I felt my colour begin to rise and steeled myself to remain calm at her needling. “On the contrary, everyone I met displayed the utmost civility and graciousness. At a neighbour’s ball, I believe I danced every dance but one, and I sat down then only because I begged to rest for a moment.”

A discontented look caused her nostrils to flare as she pinched her lips together in a tight, false smile. “And shall you join Mr. Darcy at Rosings for Easter?”

“I…have not made plans that far in advance.”

“Really? My social calendar already overflows. However, I have made time to answer Lady Catherine’s invitation to spend the Easter season with her. Louisa and I furthered our acquaintance with the dear lady the last time she stayed in Town. We dined with her on more than one occasion, and I took every opportunity to please her, for I think her the most elegant, proper lady. And, naturally, my intimate friendship with Mr. Darcy and his sister only endeared me to her ever so much. I do hope dear Georgiana will accompany her brother to Kent, for I long to spend a fortnight with her.”

“No doubt she will,” I said. “Jane, shall we take a turn about the room. I fear I am in need of activity after that delicious dinner you served.”

Jane joined me, and we walked to the farthest corner.

“Lizzy, why not travel to London with Charles and me?” Jane asked.

“I would not wish to intrude upon your first Season as a married woman.”

“You could never intrude. In truth, I would feel much more confident with you by my side.”

“Jane, you do not need me. You will have your husband’s support. He will make all the introductions, and I agree with Mamá that you will be a great success.”

“Charles is the dearest and best husband, but I would so enjoy your company. Shall you not consider it?”

“I will think about it.”

“Well, do not take too long to make up your mind. We depart at the end of the month.”

I assured her I would give the thought my highest consideration. I had little desire to go to Town, but at least it would prove diverting, and I would enjoy seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Even though they lived in a less fashionable part of Town than Mr. Bingley, I knew Jane would welcome them in her home. The only drawback to visiting London remained the possibility that I might meet with Mr. Darcy.

I led my sister back around the room where we sat down across from Caroline and Mrs. Hurst.

“Miss Bingley, is Miss Darcy going to London before she travels to Kent for Easter?” I asked.

“Mr. Darcy usually brings his sister to Town when he comes for the Season.”

“You cannot depend upon Darcy even to come for the Season,” Mr. Bingley said from the card table. “You certainly cannot expect him to be present at all the events on your calendar, Caroline. He dislikes the social scene and sometimes attends only enough to maintain his standing. I am not certain we will see either Darcy or Georgiana in Town at all.”

“I would think, Miss Bennet, that you were privy to their plans more than we are,” Mrs. Hurst added.

“They did not mention the subject while I was at Pemberley.”

“Surely, you have heard from Georgiana since then, have you not?” Caroline asked.

“She has,” my mother said unexpectedly. “Lizzy, you know a letter came for you from Pemberley in today’s post.”

“You did not tell me, Mamá.”

“Did I not? Well, we were all in uproar preparing for this evening’s outing. It must have slipped my mind.”

][

I delayed reading Georgiana’s letter until morning. We returned from Netherfield quite late, and by the time I had dressed for bed and brushed out my hair, I felt somewhat weary. Although it pained me to admit it, Caroline Bingley’s careless remarks had caused more strain than I realized. Both my head and neck ached. I felt as though all my muscles were tied up in knots. After bathing my face with water, I carried the damp cloth to the open window in my bedchamber, continuing to rub its coolness across the back of my neck. The letter lay silently on the settee upon which I sank down. I picked it up and turned it over, observing Pemberley’s seal.

That will never be my seal
, I mused.

I closed my eyes at the thought and willed it from my mind. I might as well accept what could not be changed. I could never make public the fact that I was George Darcy’s daughter. I would remain Miss Bennet until I agreed to exchange my name for that of the man I would marry.

The thought of Georgiana’s reproaches within the unopened letter filled me with dread. What would I reply? What reason could I offer for my sudden flight from Pemberley? I certainly could not tell the truth. I could hardly admit it to myself. I wondered what Mr. Darcy had told his young sister. For that matter, what had he told Colonel Fitzwilliam? He, too, could not reveal the real reason for my unexpected departure.

I thought back to the last time I had seen Mr. Darcy. I saw his hair dripping with water from the rainstorm; I felt the tenderness of his touch, and my heart ached at the haunted sadness in his eyes. Not once had he asked me why I left Pemberley with such haste. Not even once. Why should he when we both knew the answer?

][

The next day, I sent a note to Jane accepting her invitation to travel to London. Georgiana’s letter made my decision. She and Mr. Darcy planned to spend Easter at Kent without stopping in Town. From Rosings, they intended to travel to Bath and avoid the city entirely. I would be safe at Mr. Bingley’s house in Grosvenor Square—safe to start a new life under my new brother’s protection. With any luck, I might attract the attentions of a good and honourable man who would help me bury the past for all time.

Mamá did not protest my leave-taking in the least. Indeed, she grew excited at the thought I might meet her future son-in-law in Town.

“Now, Lizzy, be agreeable when you meet eligible young gentlemen. Smile more. You have always smiled easily and often, but lately, your countenance has taken on an ill-favoured expression. You are growing more and more like an embittered spinster, and that is no way to catch a husband. Mark my words.”

I sighed and shook my head. What could I answer? She would have me carry on like Lydia if the truth be known. But had I acquired a bitter spirit? I hardly knew.

“Do not mind your mother, Lizzy,” Papá said. “You know her thoughts travel in one direction. But do not stay away too long, for you will be sorely missed, my dear.”

I did not reply. Even when he kissed my hair, I did not respond in kind. Resentment toward him had taken hold in my heart, and I could not relinquish it. If only he had told me from the beginning that I was fostered, that I was not truly his daughter, then perchance my heart would not ache as it did today. Perhaps I would not possess this empty hole within me that I knew could never be filled.

Chapter Eight

The social whirl of London, with its assemblies, concerts, and balls, was in full swing by the time we arrived. Jane and I barely had time to order new gowns before attending the first affairs. Jane made a lovely debut, and her natural charm and grace caused even the harshest of society ladies to soften in her company. Mr. Bingley beamed with pride at her accomplishments and seemed to grow in stature when standing by her side.

As her
sister
, I was included in the invitations. With dismay, however, I soon learned that most of London knew of my connection with the Darcy family. Evidently, someone had spread the news that I was a poor relation of the Darcys who had been taken in by Mr. Bennet as an infant. I doubted that Miss Bingley would promote the story, seeing that she already regretted her brother’s new connections and would not wish to call attention to them, so perhaps she was not the source. In a society that thrives on gossip, it takes but a word to spread a tale hither and yon. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s parents may have shared their knowledge, or it may even have come from the mouth of Sir William Lucas during one of his frequent visits to Town.

And so, although I did not own the honour of bearing the name Bingley or Darcy, I enjoyed the affiliation with both families, thus creating measured acceptance mixed with disdain. Without a fortune, however, I was a poor match. As in Hertfordshire, my situation remained somewhat murky. I often wondered who I was and where I belonged.

I soon tired of the insincerity prevalent among the majority of London society that I met. I also grew weary of the disappointed expression gentlemen exhibited once they learned that my relationship to the Darcys had not afforded me pecuniary benefits. After Easter, I began refusing to accompany my sister and her husband to most invitations of the
ton
. I preferred spending time on the other side of Town with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, where things were somewhat duller but much more pleasant.

I had spent a fortnight with my aunt and uncle when their servant announced one morning that I had a gentleman caller. None of Mr. Bingley’s friends knew the Gardiners, so I wondered who my visitor might be. After a questioning glance in my direction, my aunt instructed the servant to show him into the parlour.

“Miss Bennet,” the man said in greeting, as he bowed.

“Mr. Denison!” I was overcome with surprise and hastened to introduce my former dancing partner from Derbyshire to Mrs. Gardiner, whereupon she bade him be seated. He carried a large, wrapped parcel in his hand and gingerly propped it against the side of the chair before he sat down.

“You are not easy to find,” he said. “If I had not met Mrs. Bingley last night and overheard her tell someone that her maiden name was Bennet, I fear I never would have discovered your whereabouts.”

“I had no idea you were in search of me, sir.”

“You must admit that you departed Derbyshire somewhat abruptly, and no amount of inquiries would extract your destination from Mr. Darcy. He absolutely refused to share with me where you had gone. I confess the gentleman’s conduct appeared strange to say the least.”

“Strange?”

“Each time I broached the subject with him, his manner proved so fierce that I confess I sometimes wondered whether some dire misfortune had befallen you.”

I laughed lightly in an attempt to put his mind at ease. “Oh, Mr. Darcy’s manners can be infuriating at times, but I suppose we must allow that in a man of his standing.”

My aunt took that moment to offer tea, an interruption for which I was grateful. She went on to engage Mr. Denison in the usual social chatter, asking how long he had been in Town, how he liked the warm weather, and so on. After a sufficient length of time had passed for which a proper social call should last, she rose, expressing how much we had enjoyed his visit.

He, of course, stood also, but looking somewhat distressed, he picked up the package beside his chair. “Miss Bennet, before I leave, I must ask whether you recall that I told you of a discovery I had made while clearing out the attics at Bridesgate Manor?”

“Why, yes, I do.”

“I have brought the treasure today, and with your leave, Mrs. Gardiner, I should like to show it to Miss Bennet.”

My aunt and I sat down and waited while he removed the string and paper from the large square shape.

“Now pray examine this painting, and tell me, do you detect the same remarkable distinction that I do?”

He placed the portrait before me, and I heard my aunt’s quick intake of breath. “Why, Lizzy, she looks like you!”

A girl, who appeared a few years younger than I, sat beneath a huge, spreading chestnut tree. She wore a white gown with a yellow ribbon around her waist and a pale yellow rose tucked in her dark, flowing hair. Her bare toes peeked out from below her skirt, and her lips turned up in an arch smile, much like one I had oft times seen in the mirror.

“She has your hair, your nose, the turn of your countenance,” Mrs. Gardiner declared. “Only her eyes are different. Otherwise, she could be your twin.”

“That was exactly my impression the first time I saw you,” Mr. Denison said. “When I met you at the ball, I knew I must show you the painting.”

I was so overcome by the likeness that I remained silent, knowing not how to answer.

“The moment you walked into the Whitbys’ ballroom, I assumed there must be some connection. You can imagine my disappointment when I arrived at Pemberley the following day and found you gone.”

“Who…who is the woman?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“I do not know. I would guess that she is either a member of the Willoughby family or a friend. I thought you might tell me.”

I shook my head, unable to take my eyes from the girl in the portrait.

“Last month,” Mr. Denison said, “we expected Sir Linton Willoughby to travel to Bridesgate Manor to collect the items from the attic that my father deemed valuable to the family. Instead, he sent his steward along with a servant and cart. Therefore, I could not question the gentleman about the portrait. Rather than part with it to his servants, I confess I hid it under my bed.”