Chances Come, Ney Mitch [snow like ashes series TXT] 📗

she was just as apprehensive to meet us as we were to meet her.

“Sister,” Mr. Darcy announced, “I have three delightful women who come to greet you. Allow me to introduce Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and Miss Kitty Bennet.”

“The three sisters from Longbourn,” Georgiana acknowledged, her voice somewhat shaky.

“You know where we come from?” I asked, smiling gently. “That is very flattering.”

“My brother has written about you three so much that I feel as if I know you already.”

I turned to Mr. Darcy, with an arched look.

“Oh, so you talk about us,” I teased, my eyebrow raised.

“Yes, I am wicked in that way,” he responded, his eyes shining with glee.

Georgiana looked between us both and she saw the familiarity and comfort between us.

“Well, let us get inside,” Mr. Darcy encouraged, “for we have so much to acquaint you with.”

We entered, and we all sat down in the sitting room. I had not known Miss Darcy for more than a mere few minutes and it was quite apparent that she was a bashful sort of creature. This revelation made me feel, even more keenly, how deceptive Mr. Wickham was when he described Miss Darcy to me. It had been soon after we had met, when at a dinner party that my Aunt Phillips had held. The officers who had been stationed there in Colonel Forster’s regiment had been invited, and therefore, Mr. Wickham had been present, wearing his regimentals.

He had just finished telling me of Mr. Darcy’s villainy, of how he had been cheated out of the inheritance, and how Mr. Darcy had treated him most abominably. And I, in my one-time foolishness, had believed him…

“How strange!” I had cried. “How abominable! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you! If from no better motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest—for dishonesty I must call it.”

“It is wonderful,” replied Wickham, “for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; and pride had often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than with any other feeling. But we are none of us consistent, and in his behavior to me there were stronger impulses even than pride.”

“Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”

“Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride, and filial pride—for he is very proud of what his father was—have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also brotherly pride, which, with some brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister, and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers.”

“What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?”

He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her brother—very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father's death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her education.”

Mr. Wickham had continued to speak on, defaming the Darcys, while I had hung on his every word—and a fool, I had been…

And now, here Georgiana sat in front of me, and she destroyed every deception that Wickham had placed over my eyes, once upon a time.

Miss Darcy was not proud. Yet, instead, she was remarkably shy. At her age, such behavior was customary, for the way of the world was to be confusing. If you were a woman or man, you could not speak too much, but you also must not speak so very little. Therefore, that always presented the question: how often could a person speak?

“So, we are told that you are very fond of music,” I began. “Faith, we have heard tales of your talent since your brother and his friends first came into Hertfordshire.”

“Yes,” Jane added, “and we were told that you play infuriatingly well.”

“Well,” Georgiana answered, “I do not play so very well, but I am fond of music.”

“Never fear,” Kitty said, “for you may perhaps be a genius, and we have learned something very important about geniuses.”

“What is that?” Mr. Darcy asked.

“Never ask a genius to perform,” Kitty answered, “for they are not meant to be appealed to like actors on a stage.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Also, constant appealing to geniuses can lead to making them weary, overwrought, and can lead to their talent diminishing or making a mistake, due to all the attention that can be placed on one.”

“Precisely,” Georgiana admitted. “For, when alone, I play at my best, but I am not a genius. For, I believe that if I were so, I would be able to maintain my talent under the gaze of many audiences. However, the more that people look on me, the more that I feel my hands shall make a mistake. And once I think on that mistake, then it does happen.”

“The nerves and weight that can come from having a tremendous talent,” I suggested. “Truly, that is why I value talking as the only sport that I try to perform. Much can be lost in saying the wrong words, but there is always chance for recovery.”

“You were always brave in that way,” Jane acknowledged, “and so is Kitty. However, in my fear of ever saying the wrong thing, sometimes I was scared to speak about anything. I daresay that it has left me making quite the bad habit of it.”

“I suffer that sad fate as well,” Georgiana confirmed.

“Jane, is