Page 37 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
“No, you did not. You saved Georgiana from a horrible fate, and now it is time to save yourself from becoming an old curmudgeon at seven-and-twenty.”
“What do you want me to do?” he asked in earnest.
“Come with me to Limerick House on the morrow and bring sweet Georgiana. I have someone I would like her to meet. Lord Limerick’s great-niece would be a delightful friend to my own niece, and perhaps more…”
She did not say that she might become Georgiana’s sister, but they both knew that was what she left unsaid. It effectively proved that Eilís was still unmarried, or his aunt could not have made such an assumption. He did not bother to correct her premature conclusion. It was too early to speak of marriage, but she must have received a full report of the evening, and he was well aware that he had acted out of character. He was infamous for avoiding entanglements, to the great consternation of marriage-minded mamas and their daughters.
When and who would become Mrs Darcy would behischoice, and not the result of nefarious scheming.
“Are you not the least bit curious about what more my friend had to say?”
Darcy mock scowled at his aunt, who was uncommonly coy today.
“According to my new friend, you made an exceedingly favourable impression upon her granddaughter, and she has been pining for a word from you for nigh on six months. She has been quite out of sorts that you have not called…”
His stomach flipped. She had been as affected as he, and hope surged through his veins.
#
Darcy slept poorly, and his sister was regarding him with a quizzical expression the next morning. He stopped fidgeting with his signet ring and looked unseeingly out of the carriage window. The moment had come, and his sentiments wavered between anticipation and dread. After all, he had never seen her face but for the stunning eyes, long dark lashes, and a glimpse of her tempting lips. He was more familiar with her figure than her face, which was an odd notion. She was tall and carried herself with a debonair elegance that was utterly exquisite.
Yet, he could not but harbour a sliver of worry that he might be disappointed when he saw her without the mask. He had formed an image that might have no bearing in reality. The resemblance to another young lady he had recently met was eerie and may have fooled him into conjuring unattainable perfection.
Would it matter? He had no answer to his own question, but he was about to discover the truth. The carriage drew to a halt. A footman lowered the steps and opened the door. He alighted first and aided his aunt and sister safely to the pavement. With his back to Limerick House, he wondered whether she was anxiously waiting, even stealing clandestine glances from behind a curtain, or, God forbid, she was indifferent and had forgotten all about the June evening at the Argyll Rooms.
The butler announced them, and Darcy entered behind his aunt and Georgiana. Beside Lord Limerick’s sister sat none other than Miss Elizabeth Bennet—now Lady Elizabeth, of course—with a healthy glow to her delicate cheeks. It confirmed that his suspicions at Netherfield had been correct—Elizabeth and Eilís were related.
“Miss Darcy, how nice of you to call. I was just thinking about you.” The lady of the house greeted them all warmly and glanced at Elizabeth, who turned her head to gaze out of the window.
His interest in her was unnerving him, especially since he was about to reunite with Eilís. It would not do if she caught him ogling another lady. He swallowed and let his eyes travel the room only to discover that there were no other occupants. Eilís was not present, but at least he had found someone who must know where she was. He bowed deeply whilst Aunt Eudora greeted her friend with warmth. Judging by their low whispers, the matrons had concocted some form of scheme. But if so, where was Eilís?
“Thank you, my dear. I have brought my nephew and niece today. I understand that Darcy is acquainted with your granddaughter, and the young must have much to relate. It has been so long since they were last in each other’s company.”
The matron nudged Elizabeth, and by that lady’s serious expression he believed she might have preferred to forgohiscompany altogether. She smiled benignly at Georgiana, who looked forlorn as she stood wringing her hands with her eyes fixed on the floor.
Elizabeth approached his shy sister and curtseyed. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Darcy.”
She offered no greeting to him; a slight that did not go unnoticed by her grandmother, who gritted an admonishing, “Eilís!” through clenched teeth.
“Excuse my poor manners, Mr Darcy. I did not notice you,” she lied. “What a pleasure to see you again so soon.”
Darcy flinched and stared at her as he had done so many times before. It was not her words as much as the sarcastic tone in which it was delivered. Belatedly, his brain registered that Mrs Bennet had called her Eilís. To be certain he looked over his shoulder, but no one had entered behind him, and a sickening feeling formed at the pit of his stomach.
“Would you allow me to introduce my sister to you,” Darcy fumbled. The muscles in Lady Elizabeth’s cheeks showed some sign of activity. They had just been introduced by his aunt, and he fervently hoped she would not laugh at him. He was much relieved when she schooled her expression.
“Certainly, it is my great pleasure to meet your lauded sister.”
It was the wrong thing to say, because Georgiana shrank before their eyes. Lady Elizabeth noticed and immediately and easily amended the way she approached his sister.
“I have heard that you are a great lover of music, and I long to converse with someone who shares my interest. You see, I have four sisters, and not one is the slightest bit interested in music. Although one of my sisters plays, the endeavour is driven by duty rather than pleasure.”
Georgiana’s eyes flitted to her face. “That is impossible,” she whispered.
Elizabeth had made an elegant turn and drawn Georgiana in. He admired the ease with which she conversed and made even his reserved sister feel comfortable.
“It is aslightexaggeration, but not by as much as one would think. I must warn you, though, that my passionate interest by no means is matched with any reasonable talent. My playing istolerablygood but cannot compare to the proficient masters I have heard in town. If your brother allows, may we abscond to the music room and play?”
The banter reminded him of a certain masquerade where Eilís, Elizabeth, Queen Elizabeth, or whatever she preferred to be called, had occasionally outwitted him. Elizabeth glanced at him without meeting his eyes. He had to look down at his coat to see whether he had sullied himself, but her eyes were fixed on a silver button on his waist-coated chest.
