Page 56 of Her Whole Heart
“I perhaps have the least to complain about,” Amelia said, “but even I have been subject to snide insinuations about being Lady Carlisle’s ‘poor relation’ and possessing ‘an unfortunate complexion.’”
Elizabeth had not heard this at all. “What imbecile said that?” she asked angrily.
“I do not know,” Amelia said. “All I do know is that she has not been in town until recently and that she seems to prefer wearing a ghastly shade of orange.” She paused. “Have any of you seen the illustrations of the American pumpkin? It is a sort of squash or gourd. That is the shade. Lovely on a plant, not so much on her.” Amelia held up a hand to suggest she would return shortly, and nearly skipped from the room only to return a few moments later with a large, illustrated book under her arm. She cracked it open, turned a few pages, and pointed.
It was a vegetable, round rather than long, and very, very orange.
Georgiana’s eyes opened wide. “Was she with Mr. Bingley?”
“I do not know. I suppose she might have been. Hewasnearby, I believe, paying court to Jane. We were at the milliner’s. He spied us as he walked past and came inside.”
“That may be his sister, Miss Bingley. She does favour that colour, and the remark certainly sounds like her.” Georgiana sighed. “She is very good at complimenting me in ways that make me uncomfortable. I know it is only to impress my brother.”
Jane was silent for a moment before saying, “Mr. Bingley did say his sisters were due to arrive soon. I had hoped to find them amenable, but you say that she was insulting?”
Amelia lifted her hands, palms out. “I do not know that it was Miss Bingley. We were not introduced. But she was certainly unpleasant.”
Elizabeth noted Jane’s furrowed brow and made a note to speak with her about Mr. Bingley’s sisters later, when they had time alone. “How did you respond, Amelia?”
“I did not. I recalled your advice about ignoring such insults, Lizzy.” She turned to Georgiana. “When your brother insulted Lizzy, I offeredher my commiseration. She told me that it was annoying, but ultimately unimportant.”
“My brother insulted you?” Georgiana asked Elizabeth breathlessly. “He could not have. He thinks so very highly of you!”
Elizabeth would have preferred that the beginning of her history with Mr. Darcy had not been revealed to Georgiana, and she gave Amelia an exasperated look. Amelia made a face, contrite, but there was no taking the comment back.
“He did, and he has since made a very pretty apology,” Elizabeth said, patting Georgiana’s hand. “But you see, the insult did not hurt for long, because I knew that he did not even know me well enough to make any sort of judgement, negative or otherwise.” And learning that Mr. Darcy was struggling with a long-delayed grief had made it easier to forgive.
“She called him a blockhead, though,” Amelia said with a giggle. “In Latin.”
Georgiana’s hand flew to her mouth. “She did not.”
Elizabeth made a face of her own. “I am afraid that I did. And what is more, I am not sorry.”
Georgiana barked out a laugh. “Oh, my poor brother to be so put in his place. But he must have deserved it, I think.”
“He did. But he has made his amends, Georgiana, and I would not have anyone tease him about it.” Elizabeth glared at Amelia, who smiled but nodded.
“My experience has been a little different,” Jane said quietly, aptly moving them past the topic of Georgiana’s brother. Elizabeth smiled at her sister, grateful for the assistance.
“In what way?” Georgiana inquired, listening raptly.
“I fear this may sound conceited, but men seem to respond to my looks,” Jane said without meeting anyone’s eye.
There were snorts and chuckles all around. “Yes, Jane,” Cordelia said wryly. “We have noticed.”
“I would not have you think I am unhappy about that,” Jane said. “But I am also keenly aware that I had nothing to do with it. Beauty is fleeting—it means little, in the end. However, it can make sorting out the right sort of man from the wrong sort . . . trickier. How am I to know if a man will love me for who I am and not for what I look like? I should not like to find some years into my marriage that my husband was in love with my appearance and is no longer in love with me once my looks are gone. For none of us retain the beauty of youth forever.”
“I think I know what you mean,” Georgiana said slowly. “It is like with Miss Bingley—she is not interested in being a real friend to me, she is only interested in using me to cultivate a relationship with my brother. Fortunately, she only believes she is subtle, but she is so obvious that I am often embarrassed for her.”
Amelia nodded. “It is the same for me when men try to establish some sort of connection to the Carlisle earldom through me. It has only been a month, and I am already weary of it.”
“You see?” Elizabeth met Jane’s eye and found approval there. “You are not alone in your struggles. We have all faced the cruelty of people who do not care for us but for what we can give them. We all have or are likely to be the subjects of idle gossip and uncharitable judgment at one time or another.”
“It is how we choose to rise above such pettiness that defines us,” Cordelia concluded.
“And make no mistake, Georgiana,” Diana said, “we have both the right and the responsibility to define ourselves, perhaps beginning with the friends we gather around us.”
“There is no need to bow to the opinions of those small-minded people who seek to diminish our worth,” Cordelia added. “It would be a failure to pay them any mind at all.”
