Chapter Text
The Metcalfe family soon dined at Pemberley.
“Did you hear about the Thomases?” said the elder Mr. Metcalfe.
Darcy suppressed a groan. “What has happened now?”
“Bartholomew Thomas has apparently lost his eldest sister’s husband quite a lot of money. Encouraged him in a bad business deal, or some such nonsense; neither man is overly gifted with wisdom. It has caused quite a rupture among the family. Hardly any of them are speaking; the daughters are all on one side, the sons on the other, and everyone is angry with the parents for attempting to stay out of it.”
“Poor Mr. and Mrs. Thomas,” sighed Elizabeth. “They do seem to be forever worrying about something. And when money is involved, it tends to bring out the worst in everyone.”
Darcy was more grateful than ever that he had been successful in convincing Horatio Thomas to scurry quietly back to Newcastle.
“Oh, it is not only that,” said Mrs. Metcalfe. “There is also trouble between them and the Fanshawes. Sir Richard is quite upset with young Mr. Fanshawe for behaving a little too incautiously towards the youngest Miss Thomas. He does not consider it a prudent match. Well, who could blame him, the poor man? Amiable though he is, he would not wish to be connected with such a family. They are well enough to dine with, but he would not want one of them living in his home. There was quite a row about it. He has even talked of disinheriting his nephew.”
Jonathan Metcalfe whispered something to Georgiana; she covered her mouth quickly with her napkin, looking amused.
This did not go unnoticed by Darcy, though he glanced swiftly away.
“Our lives would all be easier if the Thomases were not in them,” he said, a little waspishly.
“We would have much less to gossip about, though,” Elizabeth smiled.
***
Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Mrs. Metcalfe still had Thomas gossip to cover after dinner.
“I assume you have heard about Horatio Thomas?” said Mrs. Metcalfe.
“I do not believe that I have,” said Elizabeth carefully.
“He has been secretly married for some time!” said Mrs. Metcalfe, thrilled to be the one to tell them.
Elizabeth and Georgiana tried to look appropriately shocked.
“His wife is not at all the type of woman one would expect her to be, either. Quite poor and low-born, it seems. I heard she was a lady’s maid. Horatio met her at the house of a friend and quite carried her off into the night.” She paused for effect. “Of course, one must wonder if the stories are true or not. You know how these things become exaggerated.”
“And how are Mr. and Mrs. Thomas taking this development?” asked Elizabeth. She had not known that his particular scandal had come out into the open.
“Oh, remarkably well!” said Mrs. Metcalfe. “Which must mean that the wife was not a maid after all. The match is an imprudent one, to be sure, and they cannot be especially pleased about that, but I am sure they would have made much more of an objection, had she actually been a servant. It is lucky that it is all coming out now, though; one imagines that they are trying to avoid a further rift in the family by being so accepting of it.” She looked contemplative. “I never expected Horatio Thomas to settle down with a wife. He was never as wild as his brothers are, but he still does not seem like the husbandly type, not like Mr. Metcalfe, or Mr. Darcy, or even my Jonathan. And married to such a woman! He must love her very much indeed. If he married at all, I thought he would choose quite a wealthy wife. I know Jonathan said, when Horatio was here, that he seemed rather intrigued by--” She broke off suddenly. “Well, at any rate, it does not sound as though he intends to return to Derbyshire, even with his parents behaving so generously, so I doubt we will ever meet the new Mrs. Thomas.”
Elizabeth had her suspicions about why Jonathan had noticed Horatio Thomas’s intrigue. She glanced slyly at Georgiana, but her sister looked quite innocent. Whether Elizabeth’s conjectures were wrong or whether Georgiana was merely unaware of any sort of feeling there, Elizabeth did not know, but she would not interfere or nudge anything along. Things would have to run their own course.
***
When the gentlemen returned, Fitzwilliam and Mr. Metcalfe reunited with their wives, but Georgiana, who had separated from the others to stand by the fire, was joined by Jonathan.
“I forgot to mention it to you before, but I visited Rosings and saw your aunt while I was in Kent,” he said, a gleam in his eye. “Your brother told me that you saw her here shortly after I left, so I have the fresher news of her. You will be glad to know that she is quite well and as opinionated as ever.”
“I apologize on behalf of the family for whatever she might have said to you,” said Georgiana with a small, slightly mortified laugh. You never could tell with Lady Catherine.
“Oh, she did not say much to me at all. She prefers Sir Edgar and his side of the family. I am the vulgar interloper.”
Georgiana protested against this, but he only smiled.
“The Darcys have never made me feel so, I assure you, so you need not worry about your aunt. I doubt that I would have been invited to Rosings at all, if it had not been too awkward to exclude me, after asking my aunt and cousins.” He smirked. “Our aunts are quite particular friends, they tell me, though to hear them speak to one another, I imagine that it could quickly turn in a different direction.”
“That is just how Lady Catherine speaks to everyone, I am afraid,” said Georgiana. “She likes to be found formidable.”
“She generally succeeds, I believe.”
“You should have told her so. It would have made her warm to you considerably. She enjoys a respectfully fearful audience.”
He laughed, surprised and delighted. Georgiana felt a little squirm of pleasure in her stomach, happy that she had provoked such a response from him. This was what Elizabeth was so good at, and what she herself found so difficult. It was a lovely feeling. She hoped she would be able to amuse him again.
“I thought about visiting Lady Catherine myself, when I was staying in Surrey,” she continued. “Her daughter, I am sure she told you, has recently married, and I fear she might be lonely. I thought it might be my duty as her niece to come see her, but was ultimately held back by how disagreeable such a visit was sure to be. It is a shameful thing to admit, but I seem to value my comfort higher than my responsibility to my aunt.”
He laughed again; Georgiana glowed.
“You should have come anyway,” he said, eyes sparkling. “You would have made my visit more pleasant, and I would have protected you from the worst of Lady Catherine’s behavior, just by existing.”
And then the realization came to Georgiana with a jolt: Jonathan Metcalfe looked at her the way Fitzwilliam looked at Elizabeth. Moreover, she had a suspicion that if she could see herself now, she would see that she looked at Jonathan Metcalfe the way Elizabeth looked at Fitzwilliam.
Her breath caught in her throat; she was suddenly lightheaded.
“Excuse me,” she said, and quickly left the room.