The Ballad of Gregoire Darcy (58 page)

Their laughter filled the little chapel of Pemberley for some time before they rejoined the men.

CHAPTER 36

“NOW, JUST BECAUSE YOU are not my actual grandchild does not mean I find you any less adorable,” Mr. Bennet said to Robert Kincaid, sitting on his lap. The toddler could now sit up and even balance himself on someone's knee fairly well, and was beginning to shout things that resembled words more than random cries. At the moment, though, he focused on putting his hand in his mouth. “Especially when you do that,” Mr. Bennet added.

The master of Longbourn had taken up what seemed like permanent residence in an armchair in Pemberley's library. He expressed relief that, since coming to Derbyshire, he had yet to receive the attentions of another woman determined to marry.

He was there for Elizabeth when Geoffrey left for Eton. Though she smiled encouragingly until her son was in the carriage, tears came as the carriage pulled away. Darcy comforted her, but he had been to Eton himself. It was part of his heritage; it was what boys did.

It was Mr. Bennet who was able to say the right thing to his daughter. “Your son will be home soon, and I sense he will never truly be far from Pemberley. As for your daughters, take heart in the fact that my son will never let them out of his sight, much less marry and move away.” He was able to soothe his daughter's heart better than anyone else.

The day after the Kincaids' arrival, the earl was invited to shoot with Darcy and Bingley, as was their custom, especially in the fall.

“If we are to be invited for dinner,” Bingley said, “it is on the condition that I will not be subjected to Irish jokes the entire evening.”

“What are you, daft? You can't make jokes with an
actual
Gael in the room,” Kincaid said. “Besides yourself, of course.”

“She has lighter hair than you,” Darcy said to Bingley, who had not met Mrs. MacKenna yet. “Nearly blonde.”

“What about Grégoire?”

“You know very well what he looks like, Bingley.”

Bingley gave him a look. “How is he?”

“How would you expect? Besotted,” Darcy said. “And no, I have no intention of interfering with the match, despite all reason.”

“Not all
reason,
” Kincaid said. “She is a sweet woman and she is devoted to him, and he has no need of a dowry.”

Darcy said nothing, firing at a stray duck flying south but missing.

“She
is,
Darcy,” Kincaid said, the only one who could speak with any authority on the subject present. “It is not just gratitude. She could easily have lived a life of comfort with the money he gave her.”

Bingley, who had been privately told the particulars of the courtship (if one could call it that) of Grégoire and Mrs. MacKenna, could add
something.
“Great marriages have been built on less than gratitude. In fact, I am surprised you haven't thrown a grand ball in celebration of the fact that he is marrying
at all.
”

This did manage to soften Darcy, who had been even more guarded than usual, and had been since his brother had returned from Ireland. “They are to be married by Christmas.”

“A felicitous time,” Bingley said, having been joined in marriage with Princess Nadezhda at the same time of year. “In Ireland, I assume?”

“Yes.”

“Do you wish us to take the children while you are gone? I am assuming you are not taking them.”The Darcy daughters were
all still younger than twelve, and would be out of place at adult ceremonies, unless they happened to be held at home. “I think Jane could use the distraction.”

“So I am to assume that Miss Bingley took Geoffrey's departure as expected.”

Bingley smiled sheepishly.“Between her cousin and Mugin-san, she's lost her two best friends.”

“She's scared away all her governesses—you might consider sending her to a school in London,” Darcy said.

“It was discussed.” Bingley's tone was dismissive. Meaning, his daughter had put her foot down against it. “Stop smiling, both of you.”

“I didn't say a word,” Kincaid said, though he was smiling. Darcy was smirking, which for him was quite a lot.

Dinner arrangements were more complex on the Bingley end, because they were bringing their children along to see their grandfather and meet Grégoire's betrothed. Though they had tutors, the four Bingley children were currently sans governess, and had only Nurse. Only Edmund Bingley was still young enough to not put up a fight—not that Charles or Eliza Bingley had any reason to fight.

The problem was, of course, Georgiana. She refused to get dressed for the evening and was perfectly capable of scrambling out of anyone's hold (not that her father wanted to try). She was four and ten, and her foul mood had begun when Mugin abruptly left England, and deepened when Geoffrey left for school. Jane and Bingley faced the daunting prospect of doing something beyond both of their characters—yelling at their child. It was still on the horizon, but it was there. Darcy, they were sure, could simply give any of his children a stare and they would obey, no matter what their age—but he was Darcy, and they were Charles and Jane.

They were stuck in a debate about how to approach the situation after all arguments through the door had failed when Charlie,
now one and ten, knocked on his sister's door and was granted entrance. They decided to listen in and face the consequences if they were discovered.

Young Charlie, the elder of the Bingley twins, resembled his father in almost every way except his hair, which was blond. He also hadn't had his growth spurt yet, much to his annoyance.

“Hello,” he said, announcing his presence. After unlocking the door, Georgie had returned to her bed, put her bare feet up on the dresser, and buried her face in a book.

“Did they send you in?”

“No.”

She said nothing.

“Listen,” he said, mustering what courage he could. His sister was still taller than him, her voice was less squeaky, and she was an intimating person in general. “You're not the only one who misses him. I didn't want him to leave, either.”

Georgiana put down her book.

“He is my best friend. And he was the only other boy around here,” Charlie continued. “What am I supposed to do, play with Edmund?”

“You could try,” she said.

“You could spend time with your sister,” he countered. Georgie and Eliza Bingley were not known for their close relationship. “You could do…sisterly things.”

Georgiana's response was a look.

“I know you're upset,” he said, “but Mother and Father are now really upset because you're upset, and you really shouldn't make them upset.” He frowned. “Did that sound stupid?”

“Yes,” she said, but smiled. “Are they really upset?”

“What do
you
think? You won't even put on a pretty dress.”

“I hate that dress.”

“Mother says we shouldn't use the word
hate
.”

“Mothers say those sorts of things.”

To this, he had no response. She had stumped him. He frowned;
she always managed to do that, because she was older. “I do not understand why you won't—”

She sat up. “I will enlighten you. I have to put on a very pretty and very expensive dress—which I
hate
—to meet Uncle Grégoire and Mrs. MacKenna. Uncle Grégoire dresses as though he made his own clothes and all he had was brown wool because he doesn't care about money or looking fancy. Mrs. MacKenna was so poor when she met him that she was starving to death. Do you think it makes either of them comfortable to see all of their relatives dressed up in fancy clothes?”

“I didn't know that,” he said. “About her, I mean. Should I know that?”

“I heard Papa talking about it. There was other stuff, too, but it was complicated.” She shook her head. “The point is this: I do not understand why I have to get dressed up and feel uncomfortable to make other people feel uncomfortable. Does that make sense?”

The only response he could manage to find was, “Did you tell Mother that?”

“She wouldn't understand.”

“Now, you're being mean.You're not smarter than she is!”

She did halt her speech. “What I meant to say was, she—I don't know. Adults act differently. They do things just because it's the thing to do. They don't
think
about things.”

“Or they do it because it's the right thing to do.”

Georgiana looked away. “Are they
really upset?
”

“Our parents? Yes.”

She sighed. “Get out. I have to change.”

“Should I send—”

“I can do it myself.”

All the Bingley children were present at Pemberley that night, including Georgiana, who was complimented for her very pretty dress, and she curtsied and thanked her aunt. When asked how he had gotten his sister out of her room, Charlie admitted that he had no idea.

After the introductions were made and the Bingley children sent to eat with their cousins, the gathering of four couples and Mr. Bennet sat down to eat. Mrs. MacKenna was silently judged to be incredibly shy, which was not entirely unexpected, and she generally stayed quiet until the subject of the wedding was brought up. Although it was to be in Ireland, they wanted some celebration in England so that people whom Grégoire wanted to attend could do so. They were, however, faced with the peculiar problem that all of the hosts were in mourning for Mrs. Bennet, and could not hold a reception, and the Kincaid castle in Scotland was too far.

“There's the Maddoxes,” Bingley suggested. “They are only a few miles from town and have never had a chance to host anything.”