An End to Estrangement - A Pride and Prejudice Variation

Part 28

Darcy had probably attended a hundred evenings similar to the one at Lucas Lodge in his short life, and whilst he could not quite claim to enjoy them he had at least learnt to tolerate them. He had several points of reference about his fellow guests that might allow for at least a few minutes of polite conversation with each, and he dutifully trotted out platitudes about the war, gleaned from his association with his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and business, from his own affairs in London and Derbyshire. This made conversing with the gentlemen present if not enjoyable, at least tolerable.

"You are too young to worry much about the current clamour for silk, I am sure!" a merchant - Mr Hills, Darcy thought his name was - remarked, with a throaty laugh.

"Aye, and unmarried, you have no care for the cost of it on the domestic front!" joked Sir William, his smile dipping a little when he recalled the cost of outfitting both of his daughters in the manner they ought to become accustomed to, as daughters of Sir William.

"You forget, Sir William, I do possess one thing that ought to keep me forever attuned to the cost of such finery: my sister."

The older gentlemen laughed, one even reached out to clap Darcy hard on one shoulder, and he felt a tiny glimmer of satisfaction that his words had landed well. It was a spurious comment, of course, for Georgiana cared little for finery and, lately at least, she seemed to have no need of wearing it. His polite smile faltered as he thought of Georgiana, closed off in Pemberley in some sort of self-imposed isolation, penance for what had happened, or almost happened, with Wickham. Darcy swallowed, wishing for a fleeting moment that she was there, with him, for if he was proficient at working a room, Georgiana was skilled at it, blessed with an innate sense of empathy and curiosity that enabled her to make friends easily, and forever endeared her to those she met.

Darcy recalled another young lady who possessed such talents, and his brow furrowed in a frown. Elizabeth was not here yet, thank goodness, but doubtless, it was only a matter of time. His eyes darted to the door where Caroline stood, in company with her sister and brother-in-law and Mrs Lucas. She caught his eye, then, mistaking his glance for an invitation, and promptly extracted herself from her conversation, crossing the room lightly to join him.

"Ah, and here is Miss Bingley, ready to share her own opinion on the importance of the right shade of periwinkle blue..."

"Am I?" Caroline laughed, turning towards Darcy that the face she pulled might be at least a little shaded from the sight of their companions. Darcy grimaced, thinking it entirely improper to mock a gentleman before his face, particularly when that gentleman was their host.

"I am sure Miss Bingley cares as little for the cost of silk as any other young lady, for it is unbecoming for us gentlemen to trouble them with such concerns," he said, effectively drawing the conversation to a close. Caroline beamed at him, reading, somewhere in his short speech, the same sort of declaration of love she seemed to find in every word he spoke. Even a request for more bread at breakfast was tantamount to a proposal.

"Ah, here is Mr Egerton and his delightful sister!" Sir William declared, holding one hand up to wave at the pair. "Do you know, I was not sure if they would be able to join us this evening. They are but lately returned from London, where poor Egerton had an appointment at Harley Street."

"Dreadful business," Hills murmured in agreement. "A young man's life so altered by an accident."

"Was it an accident?" Caroline asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

The two older gentlemen exchanged a glance.

"Caroline," Darcy began. He did not need to say any more, for Mr and Miss Egerton drew level with their small group, and Sir William ably steered the conversation away.

"Mr Egerton! I was just saying how delighted I was that you were able to join us this evening."

Mr Egerton winced and Darcy grimaced in sympathy, for it seemed that Sir William had insensibly determined that Mr Egerton's lack of sight also affected his hearing, and thus proceeded to half-shout his side of the conversation.

"Are you acquainted with Miss Bingley and Mr Darcy? If not, do allow me to make introductions..."

"We have met," Egerton said, his voice low and bitter. He cleared his throat, turning his face to Darcy. "And it seems I owe you an apology, sir. I made an error in the accusations I levied at you before now, an unforgivable error."

"It was not unforgivable," Darcy said quickly. He was conscious, even if Egerton was not, of four pairs of eyes fixed wordlessly on the pair, and lay a light hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Here, you are surely in need of some refreshment." He looked past Egerton to his sister, who smiled and nodded, and Darcy allowed Egerton's hand to rest lightly on his arm, steering him gently away from the group and walking a few paces to a quiet corner of the room where they might speak without fear of being overheard. Caroline would be devastated, Darcy knew, to miss this conversation but doubtless, the wound would be a little tempered by being afforded the opportunity to explain Egerton's mistake to Sir William and Mr Hills. There was little Caroline Bingley loved more than being the chief purveyor of delicious gossip.

"You must not allow me a pass simply on account of my infirmity," Egerton said, his jaw set in a line. "I am not an imbecile, Mr Darcy. I am well capable of taking responsibility for my actions."

"Very well," Darcy said, lifting two glasses from a tray and pressing one carefully into Egerton's hand.

"Thank you." Egerton paused. "I had some good news today. It is that that persuaded my sister to permit our attendance this evening, although I do not doubt she would much prefer to have remained at home." He pulled a wry face. "Cannot wear out the poor fellow, regardless of what the poor fellow might care to say about things."

Darcy said nothing but felt another stirring of liking for the young man before him. Would he have borne with such an affliction so well?

"My doctor thinks there is a possibility of improvement in my vision."

This was uttered in a low monotone, a practised disdain that did not fool Darcy for a moment. This was momentous news and ought to be celebrated, however much Egerton feigned indifference.

"That is wonderful!" Darcy smiled what was perhaps his first genuine smile of the evening. "I am so pleased for you!"

"Yes." Egerton paused, a tiny quirk at the corner of his lips betraying his true delight, though he strove to conceal it. "I dare say you would prefer me to have seen some of this improvement already." He paused, pulling a face. "Forgive me that monstrous pun. You never truly notice how often you rely on certain aphorisms until they take on a new and deeper meaning." He sighed. "While I was in London I saw my eldest sister, Mr Darcy, and spoke with her about our meeting. Mine and yours. At least, yours and mine. I doubt I made a very good impression upon you that day and for that, I must apologise. No -" He held a hand up to staunch the protestation that Darcy had opened his mouth to make, somehow sensing it before Darcy made a sound. "I shall apologise properly and then we shall speak of it no more. My sister confessed to me that she knew the man claiming to be Mr Darcy had not possessed that name, but an altogether different one. She did not know it at first, you understand, but at some time or other he let his mask slip and confessed the truth. He was not Fitzwilliam Darcy at all. He made a game of it, it seems, and begged her play along."

Darcy felt his heart sink, knowing, even before Egerton's lips formed the words, what name he would utter.

"The scoundrel's real name was George Wickham."