Mrs. John Dashwood had never been a favourite with any of her husband’s family; but she had had no opportunity, till the present, of shewing them with how little attention to the comfort of other people she could act when occasion required it.
Upon learning that her son planned to hold his birthday fete at Norland, and that a certain Miss Catherine Ben-net topped the guest list, Mrs. John Dashwood paid a call upon the Darcy family.
The announcement of her arrival sent Kitty into a state of shock followed immediately by a flurry of nervous agitation. She cast aside her needlework frame and raised her hands to her face. "Mr. Dashwood’s mother! Lizzy, whatever shall I say to her?"
Elizabeth set down her own stitchery and rose in preparation for their visitor’s entrance. " ‘How do you do?’ might form a good beginning."
Georgiana, who had been practicing her harp in the corner, abandoned the instrument to join Kitty’s side in support. "I am sure she is as kind as her son," she said.
"Oh, gracious!" Kitty exclaimed. "Please tell me my hair looks tolerable!"
No one had opportunity to offer Kitty reassurance on issues of grooming or any other, as the lady in question just then appeared in the drawing room. Fanny Dashwood was a thin, proud-looking woman, with sharp cheekbones and a tilt to her chin that threatened an unrestricted view of her nostrils to those of shorter stature. Her sharp eyes assessed the three ladies to determine which was her hostess. Elizabeth greeted her and performed the necessary introductions.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Mrs. Dashwood said to a Chinese vase as her appraising gaze drifted about the room. She took in the draperies, artwork, and furniture, then studied Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Kitty with the same calculating interest, her attention lingering longest on Miss Bennet. Elizabeth wondered if Kitty had been judged more or less valuable than the chesterfield.
Kitty, already flustered, struggled to maintain her composure under the intense inspection. Elizabeth attempted to divert Mrs. Dashwood’s attention.
"We had the pleasure of dining with your son last night," she said.
"Yes, I know." She held Kitty in her unyielding gaze a full minute longer before finally turning it on Elizabeth. "He told me at breakfast this morning. I summoned him as soon as I rose, and my Harry always accords me the utmost respect and deference. He came directly he received my note."
"He seems a fine gentleman."
"He is. And a good son. Not like some of these wild young men who run about making their own decisions regardless of the consequences. Harry knows his responsibilities to his family." She studied the room’s appointments once more. "That is a lovely harp. Was it you whom I heard playing as I came up, Miss Bennet?"
"No. the harp belongs to Miss Darcy."
"Harry adores music. Has he heard you play the pianoforte yet?"
"That is also Miss Darcy’s. I don’t play any instrument."
Mrs. Dashwood’s face registered mild disapproval. "You sing, then?"
"No."
"Oh." Mrs. Dashwood blinked. "Well, perhaps if he calls here again, Harry will have an opportunity to enjoy Miss Darcy’s talent." Fanny cast a warm smile at Georgiana. At least, it would have been a warm smile if Fanny Dashwood possessed any warmth.
As it was, Harry’s mother shuddered and shifted closer to the fire screen. "It is a blustery day for April."
"I hope you did not catch a chill coming here," Kitty offered.
"I possess a hearty constitution," Mrs. Dashwood declared, "and little patience for those who do not." She looked more closely at the fire screen. "This is covered very prettily. Is it your handiwork, Miss Bennet?"
"No, Georgiana’s."
"This is Miss Bennet’s first visit here as our guest, so our house does not yet enjoy her influence," Georgiana said in defense of her friend. "Perhaps she will grace it with a gift, but until then, I am afraid my things clutter it, as I have spent most of my time here these past five years."
"You speak too modestly, Miss Darcy I would hardly call ‘clutter’ something as beautiful as this screen, or that water-color on the wall. Do I assume aright that it is yours, as well?"
Georgiana confessed that it was.
Kitty fidgeted and took up her embroidery. Elizabeth, desirous of something to do with her hands, picked up her own hoop but left the needle secured in the muslin.
"Are you skilled with a needle, Miss Bennet? What do you work on?"
"An infant’s cap — a gift for our sister Jane."
"Has she recently delivered?"
"She expects her first child in autumn."
"How delightful. I see you also work on infant clothes, Mrs. Darcy. I wish I’d had sisters to help with Harry’s layette when he was born."
Elizabeth indeed had a sleeve for a tiny frock stretched in her frame, though it was for her friend Charlotte Collins, due to be brought to bed any day. After completing the frock, she would finish the quilt she’d started for Jane. Elizabeth had never been fond of needlework but took pleasure in creating these gifts. The more she worked on them, however, the more she found herself wishing, in the secret recesses of her heart, that they were for a child of her own.
She would contemplate those feelings in a more private time and place. For now, she merely smiled politely as Mrs. Dash-wood asked to see Kitty’s work.
"Your backstitch is a trifle uneven there. But otherwise it is a competent effort, Miss Bennet. I’m sure your sister will appreciate it." She handed the bonnet back to Kitty. "My niece Regina does excellent needlework. Why, even Harry complimented her on a sash she made, and you know gentlemen seldom notice those things. Have you met Miss Ferrars? This is her first London season."
Kitty was too rattled by Mrs. Dashwood’s lukewarm praise to answer. Elizabeth replied that while they had seen Miss Ferrars at the Middletons’ house, they had not been introduced.
"You shall certainly meet her at Norland. Harry tells me you are all to be our guests for his birthday fete?"
"Oh, yes!" Kitty said. "We look forward to it."
"So do I. After losing my husband last fall, it will be nice to celebrate something, and I cannot think of a finer event than my darling Harry reaching his majority. My little boy, all grown up! Before I know it, he will be married with a son of his own. I think that is every mother’s wish, to see her child well married."
At this, a hint of color crept into Kitty’s cheeks.
"I hope, Miss Darcy," Mrs. Dashwood continued, "that you will also be of the Norland party?"
Georgiana replied in the affirmative.
"Excellent. The inclusion of another accomplished young lady will add to everyone’s pleasure. Miss Ferrars is quite accomplished, too. If I had a daughter, I would want her to be just like Regina. Or you, Miss Darcy." She added lamely, "Miss Bennet, with your sisters wed, it must be a comfort to your mother to have you at home."
"I think my mother shall be most comfortable when all five of.her daughters are married," Kitty replied. "Meanwhile, my sister Mary also remains at Longbourn."
"Your mother is wise to want you settled. Five daughters would tax any family’s fortune. When my husband passed away, our having just one child made everything tidy — Harry had no unmarried sisters to worry about providing for. The terms of his great-great-uncle’s will ensured that the Norland estate would pass through successive generations whole, but you know how gentlemen sometimes feel a sense of obligation toward siblings for whom no other provision was made. Now, since I understand you have no brothers, to whom will Longbourn pass?"
"To none of us. It is entailed on a male cousin."
"I see. How very unfortunate."
Mrs. Dashwood stayed only a short while longer, just time enough to invite them all — Georgiana especially — to call upon her in Harley Street. "I do so enjoy conversing with Harry’s friends."
Kitty trembled with humiliation the moment Harry’s mother walked out the door. Georgiana, embarrassed by the whole visit, quickly excused herself to perform some imaginary errand.
"She hates me, Lizzy! Mr. Dashwood’s mother hates me."
"She does not hate you, Kitty."
"She likes Georgiana."
"She likes Georgiana’s thirty thousand pounds."
"Il is the same thing."
Elizabeth came to Kitty’s side. "Perhaps to someone as disagreeable as Mrs. Dashwood. But not to Georgiana. Do you think she wants to be admired only for her fortune?"
"Her fortune, her music, her painting — " She tossed her embroidery onto the sofa. "I can’t even trim a cap properly. Who wouldn’t choose Georgiana over me?"
"Mr. Dashwood."
Elizabeth retrieved the hoop from the floor and handed it back to Kitty. "Mr. Dashwood came here last night with flowers tor you. He spent most of the evening talking to you. And when he left here, he lingered the longest over his farewell to you."
"That doesn’t mean he will want to marry me."
"No, it does not. But should he offer, you will know without question that he wants to marry you, not your thirty thousand pounds. That is a fortune Georgiana will never have."
Kitty turned the hoop around in her hands. "If he offers. And what are the chances of his ever doing so with his mother wishing him to tender his addresses elsewhere?"
"Let his mother court whomever she wants. He can afford to marry where he chooses."
Elizabeth said the words in a confident tone, attempting to console Kitty, but she could not help recalling Mrs. Dashwood’s assertion about her son’s sense of family duty. To what extent would he allow filial obedience to dictate his future happiness? Harry was young; his mother’s will, strong. A word from her might be all it took to redirect him.
Mr. Dashwood already possessed Kitty’s heart. She prayed he would not break it.
She placated Kitty with additional assurances, then suggested they take a walk. Fresh air and fresh sights, she hoped, would divert her sister’s thoughts from this unfortunate first meeting with Mr. Dashwood’s mother. Kitty yielded to Elizabeth’s persuasion and the two parted to retrieve their bonnets.
After donning both her hat and a light wrap, Elizabeth found herself descending the stairs to the accompaniment of Mozart. Georgiana had returned to the drawing room, where her fingers now flew through the opening movement of a sonata. Elizabeth approached the pianoforte and located Georgiana’s place in the music, turning the page when Georgiana reached its end. Further observation of the performer, however, revealed that Elizabeth need not have troubled herself. Georgiana played from memory.
When the movement concluded, Elizabeth invited her to join the walk. Georgiana declined, stating a desire to continue at the piano.
"I have been thinking," she said, starting the adagio section, "that perhaps I ought not go to Norland."
"Of course you should go. Mr. Dashwood’s invitation included everybody."
"His mother’s invitation very nearly excluded Kitty I do not wish my presence to cause your sister any unhappiness. If I stay behind, Mrs. Dashwood might treat Kitty with more civility."
"Mrs. Dashwood’s behavior toward Kitty has far more to do with Mrs. Dashwood than with either you or Kitty."
"Nevertheless, Kitty will enjoy the party more without me."
"Kitty would feel horrid if she knew you missed the fete on her account."
She paused on a minor chord. "Then do not tell her."
Elizabeth studied Georgiana. Her head was bowed over the keyboard, her expression guarded. Did she truly wish to remain behind, or was she declining the invitation because she thought she should? Elizabeth did not want her new sister-in-law to feel excluded from this or any other family happenings. Nor to believe that anyone considered her own happiness secondary to Kitty’s or anybody else’s.
"Georgiana, do reconsider. This season in London was to have been a pleasurable time for you, as well, yet it seems you have not met any gentleman worthy of your esteem." That Darcy protected his sister so closely had not helped, but Elizabeth refrained from voicing that thought. "Perhaps someone at the fete will earn your regard."
Georgiana completed an intricate passage before responding. "I did not realize you hoped to bring about a match for me this season," she finally said. "But of course you and my brother must feel my continuing at Pemberley an intrusion on your privacy now that you are married."
"Oh, Georgiana! How ever could you think that? Pemberley is your home — for the rest of your life, if you wish. I do not scheme to have its empty rooms to myself. I thought only of you — that perhaps you yourself had begun to long for another home, and a husband to share it."
"I cannot deny imagining such scenes from time to time, but I am in no hurry to realize them. I — " She stumbled over a.simple grace note and corrected herself. "I know my brother surely must have told you of my imprudence two summers ago involving Mr. Wickham. Since that time, I do not trust my own judgment in matters of the heart."
This marked the first Lime she had spoken of the incident, or how it had affected her. "It is Mr. Wickham who cannot be trusted," Elizabeth declared.
"Nevertheless, I am not yet ready to form an attachment with anybody."
"Your own judgment seems very sound on that point. You are absolutely correct. There is no reason for haste."
Her fingers slowed as she approached the end of the adagio. "When I am prepared to accept a suitor’s attention, the right gentleman will reveal himself. Meanwhile, let this be Kitty’s season. Allow me to excuse myself from the Norland party."
Elizabeth regarded Georgiana doubtfully. "You are certain?"
"Quite. In fact, my friend Miss Sedgewick has invited me to a concert on the thirtieth and I had hoped to attend." She struck the final chords of the movement and met Elizabeth’s gaze. "Please indulge me?" Her expression was earnest.
"As you wish."
"Thank you."
She started on the allegro assai. Elizabeth listened to Geor-giana’s perfect execution, repeating their conversation in her mind. Anyone could appreciate her sister-in-law’s accomplishments and gentle spirit. But she was discovering in Georgiana a young woman of greater depth and intelligence than was evident upon first acquaintance, and felt privileged to be developing a more intimate understanding of her.
"Can I persuade you, at least, to join us for our walk?" Elizabeth asked.
Georgiana started to shake her head, but then abruptly halted the music. "Actually," she said, rising from her instrument, "I think I shall."