The Darcy Cousins (9 page)

She had not been to many dances. But each and every time, her memory immediately flew back to the day she had first seen George Wickham.

MONICA FAIRVIEW

It had happened at an informal dance not very different from this one, held in Ramsgate, the coastal town where she had gone for the summer with her companion, Mrs Younge. Though she was only fifteen at the time, Mrs Younge had persuaded her that there could be no harm in attending such an informal occasion, not if it was a private event held by people Mrs Younge trusted. Wickham had approached her there and expressed his delight in how beautiful she had grown up to be. He reminded her that he had lived on their estate before her father died. She remembered, of course, for he had been kind to her. She still had a doll that he had given her once.

Excited by her first dance and feeling grown up in her very first evening gown, it had been easy for such a charming young man to draw her into his net.

But then he had betrayed her.

She would never forget her brother Fitzwilliam's warnings afterwards. He had spoken to her gently, telling her that she was well out of a situation that was doomed from the start. He had advised a distraught fifteen-year-old to view all men who approached her as fortune seekers, not interested in her at all, but in her thirty thousand pounds--as George Wickham had been--and to guard herself against them.

Wickham was now cold in his grave. But the memory invari-ably cast a shadow over her whenever she attended a dance. The discordant sounds of instruments being tuned, the mingled odours and scents--overheated candle wax, the press of bodies, the amalgam of clashing colognes and essences--and the incessant din of voices, all these blended themselves into a single distilled image; that of Wickham. For no matter how ignoble his behaviour had been towards her--and towards others, it seemed--she had not been able to make herself dislike him.

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It was because of this that she suspected her own judgement. If she could only hate him, she would trust herself better. But in some hidden part of herself--in spite of everything--she still harboured some tenderness towards him. Which made her a fool. And a fool could not be trusted to determine which young gentleman was sincere and which a fraud.

At least she was aware now, as she had not been at fifteen, that thirty thousand pounds was a temptation.

From somewhere behind her, her brother's deep voice rang out, then Elizabeth's lighter one. Their voices reassured her. They were there. They would surely step in if they found her acting foolishly.

Perhaps she might allow herself to enjoy an innocent dance or two without fearing some hopeless entanglement.

She pressed her fingers together behind her back and took a deep breath.

"I hope you do not intend to stand here all evening looking severe, Georgiana. You will frighten the gentlemen away. It is really too bad Frederick refused to come with us, preferring to go to London. It would have made matters much easier, for he is very good at mingling. Come! You must introduce me."

Clarissa tugged at her arm.

"It is not so very simple," replied Georgiana. "Remember that I do not actually live here, so I am not acquainted with many people in the room. We shall have to wait for one of our hosts to introduce us. In any case, we cannot go around the room meeting young men, for it is up to the gentlemen to come and meet us. It is hardly acceptable to cross the room expressly to talk to someone who has caught our fancy."

Clarissa made an impatient gesture. "I am aware of that. You need not read me the rules of ballroom etiquette. I will not stride 75

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over to the first gentleman I see and introduce myself. You must grant me more discretion than that, no matter how poor your opinion may be of us Americans," said Clarissa. "I merely intend to stroll about the ballroom. How else do you think we can attract the gentlemen's notice otherwise? How will they find us in this crowd?

We must make the effort first."

"If you really wish it so much," said Georgiana, smiling, "then by all means, show me how to do so, as long as you promise you will do it discreetly."

"I will be discretion itself," said her cousin. "Come then."

Arm in arm, the young ladies surveyed the room, their trajectory bringing them very close to the Grecian idol. A crowd of young ladies stood around him, and he gave every appearance of enjoying the attention.

As they walked by, the Sculpture turned his eyes upon them, and Clarissa, casting him a coy sideways glance, ambled past.

"I do believe he's noticed us," said Clarissa, sounding satisfied.

"We may head in another direction now, and wait, as you say, for him to come and find us."

The receiving line broke up at that moment. Darcy and Elizabeth, who had been conversing with Gatley, now came to stand with the young ladies.

"So, Georgiana," said Darcy. "You must think of this dance as your last opportunity to test the waters before your launch into society next month. Many of the people here are strangers, so you must practise all the social skills you have learned. You too, Clarissa, though to judge by your manner you have had enough practise at home in Boston."

Clarissa made a face. "'Tis quite a different matter in Boston.

There, most members of our circle are known to one another, at 76

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least by name, and anyone new who is anybody is quickly introduced to everyone else."

"I think you will discover that things are not so very different in London," remarked Darcy. "Once you have listened to the gossip for some time, you will soon feel you know everyone, even if you have never met them."

"And conversely, they will feel that they know you," remarked Channing, joining them.

Georgiana's pulse made a little jump. She turned to him with pleasure. "This is a fine affair. You must have worked hard to transform a mere living room into this," she said, indicating the potted palm trees and splashing fountains that had converted the room into an exotic garden.

"I believe you have Mrs Channing to thank for that," said Gatley, who now joined them as well. "You do not think my cousin had a hand in it, do you? He is far too indolent to do anything more than attend the dance, even if it is in his own house."

Channing raised his hands in surrender and laughed. "I admit it readily enough. I would not have known what to do in any case. It is ladies who accomplish clever things such as this.

We men lack the imagination to create anything that requires refined taste."

"I cannot agree," said Georgiana, a smile on her lips, "for if you look at most of the great works of art, they are done by men."

"That is only because women have no time to paint or sculpt,"

said Clarissa. "We are too busy running households and doing these kinds of things." She indicated the room. "The results of our labours, alas, are all too fleeting."

Mrs Channing now approached and claimed her son's attention, taking both him and his cousin with her.

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"My advice to you, Georgiana," said Darcy, picking up where he had left off earlier, "is to beware of attributing your own goodness to everyone you meet. Not everyone's motivations are as innocent and pure as yours. You cannot afford to be naive. It is far better to err on the side of caution."

Georgiana cringed at the reminder. Was he, too, remembering Wickham? Or was it something else entirely? Had she been too forward in speaking with Mr Channing?

"Stop, Fitzwilliam, in heaven's name!" said Elizabeth jokingly.

"I do believe you are more nervous than Georgiana is. It is not the first time she has been to a dance. You need not be so anxious. You will frighten her so much she will not have any pleasure in it."

Darcy took Elizabeth's arm and settled it on his. "You are quite right, you know. I am sorry, Georgiana. I am fretting when I should be telling you to go and enjoy yourself." He gave her an affectionate smile. "But is it not natural that I should worry about my little sister?"

Mr Gatley once more came up to them, this time bringing with him the Grecian Sculpture and an accompanying young lady.

"What did I tell you?" murmured Clarissa. "I knew I could induce him to meet me."

Introductions were made, and it emerged that the two young people were brother and sister.

"Odysseus Moffet?" said Clarissa when she heard his name. "Is your name really Odysseus, or did I misunderstand?"

The Grecian Statue bowed and assured her that his name was indeed Odysseus.

He was either immune to reactions such as hers--having experienced them too often--or generally apathetic, for he exerted no effort to explain his name. His sister, whose given 78

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name was Athena, seemed similarly unconcerned. Gatley, having performed the introductions, took Miss Moffet away to join another group.

The young man asked to be set down for a dance, first with Clarissa, then with Georgiana.

"I would not like to appear partial towards either of you," he explained with a small laugh. "Especially since I have just met you and have had no chance to make any judgement."

Both ladies accordingly put his name down on their dance cards.

"Will you be spending a long time in this area, Miss Darcy?"

Both cousins began to answer at the same time. Clarissa waved her hand in Georgiana's direction playfully.

"I am sorry, Cousin. I am so accustomed to being Miss Darcy at home. I still forget sometimes that I am Miss Clarissa here."

Mr Moffet looked blankly at her.

"My cousin has only recently arrived from Boston."

"Boston?"

"Not the English Boston," said Clarissa. "The American one."

"Ah," said Mr Moffet. "Yes, I heard something of the sort, but I did not credit it. Surely you did not come all the way across the ocean on a ship?"

"There is no other way," replied Clarissa with a smile.

"Just so," said Mr Moffet.

A general pause in the conversation followed

"Well, you have come to the right place," said Mr Moffet heartily. "Kent is known as the Garden of England, and for good reason."

The young ladies waited for him to expound on this, but no clarification followed.

"Did you grow up in Kent, Mr Moffet?" said Clarissa.

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"Yes. Born and bred right here, in Dawcott Hall. You must come to visit Dawcott, for our grounds have much to recommend them. My mother has a disposition for the Gothic, and she has had a grotto built, and a sunken garden. Even better, she discovered some old ruins that were overgrown and had them cleared. I can assure you, the result is entirely Romantic."

"I am glad, since I love old ruins," said Clarissa. "We are particularly deprived of them in the United States, for there are none."

"Really?" said Mr Moffet. "Why ever not?"

Clarissa did not have an answer.

"It is too new," said Georgiana, feeling that someone ought to explain.

Mr Moffet seemed perfectly satisfied with the explanation.

"Can you tell me the history of the ruins? The ones on your grounds," said Clarissa.

Mr Moffet drew his brows together and gave her question some consideration. "They are very ruinous, so one cannot make head or tail of them," replied Mr Moffet, and he laughed. The young ladies smiled politely. "But I am sure that they must have a long history.

Since you are clearly fascinated, we will most certainly arrange for a picnic. If that will appeal to you, Miss Darcy?"

"Certainly," said Georgiana.

A long pause followed, in which each of them sought for something to say.

Fortunately, Mr Channing reappeared at that very instant, and Georgiana let out a silent sigh of relief.

"Mr Moffet is planning a picnic," she said, then bit her tongue.

What made her think Mr Channing would be included in the invitation?

"Is it not too early in the year for a picnic?" said Channing.

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"One can never tell with the weather, Channing," said Mr Moffet with a frown. "In any case, we can always arrange for a visit to the ruins, with or without a picnic. Miss Clarissa is most eager to see them."

"I should have guessed that you would like ruins," said Mr Channing, smiling broadly at Clarissa. "You seem just the type of person to do so."

Clarissa's eyes lit up with amusement. "Don't tell me, Mr Channing. Have you already come to know my character?"

"Not as well as I would wish," replied Channing meaningfully.

"I daresay you would, Mr Channing," replied Clarissa, meeting his eye.

Mr Moffet looked from one to another uncertainly. Seemingly reaching his own conclusions, he shifted his attentions exclusively to Georgiana.

"Miss Darcy, if you do not care for ruins, you still find much that is agreeable at Dawcott Hall, for Mama has spared no expense on developing the grounds."

"I would be happy to see both the grounds and the ruins,"

said Georgiana.

Mr Moffet beamed in delight at the prospect. "Then I will speak to Mama immediately," he said, and took off.

"Dear old Moffey," said Channing, watching him go. "He always reminds me of a ferret."

"A ferret?" said Clarissa, "How can you say that, when he is so very handsome?"

"But did you not notice his teeth?" said Mr Channing.

Clarissa denied noticing anything odd about his teeth.

Georgiana had noticed that his teeth jutted out very slightly, and she was inclined to agree that there was something ferret-like 81

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about Mr Moffet. She had just begun to formulate a witty response when she realised that the conversation had already turned. They were discussing something else entirely.

"I hope you are enjoying the evening, Miss Darcy," said Mr Gatley, appearing suddenly at her side.

Georgiana, who wanted to follow the other conversation, answered dismissively.

"I believe I will enjoy it, once the dancing has started."

"You like dancing, then?"