Pride Prejudice and Prodigy

La Countess de Namur

Chapter 14 ~ La Countess de Namur

Although Georgiana was happy to be home, and again in the frequent company of Lady Darlington and Julia, her spirits did not immediately recover. Elizabeth was quite certain that her unhappiness was on account of James Darlington. Consequently, Georgiana found herself unable to speak upon the subject that was vexing her with Lady Darlington, whom she loved as a mother, and whose extensive knowledge and experience of the world, combined with good sense, would have been of the greatest benefit at this difficult time in her life.

Several days after their return to Pemberley, Georgiana finally broached the subject which was troubling her. “Elizabeth, please tell me your opinion: do you believe that Mr Darlington will marry the Countess de Namur?”

“What a question!” she replied, shaking her head.

“But, do you not think that he admires her greatly? I know that all men must admire so beautiful a lady. But it is far more than just beauty and charm that she possesses: it is that exquisite voice, and the emotional intensity of her performance. When she sings, she casts a magical enchantment upon her audience. How can any true lover of music not fall under her spell? I recall Mr Darlington once saying: ‘Art was my first love; but later I discovered music; and it has since remained my greatest love.' To such a man, the countess must surely embody every possible perfection he could ever hope to find in a wife,” said Georgiana, sighing.

“Literature is also very dear to him, I believe; and I have not heard that she writes,” replied Elizabeth. “Remember, Georgiana, great admiration of a lady does not necessarily mean that a gentleman must wish to marry her. Most men, I am convinced, would find the prospect of marriage to the countess entirely overwhelming and daunting. These are not feelings a man generally wishes to have provoked by a wife. He might also rather wish for a wife who is not an object of such great admiration in the eyes of every man that fall upon her.”

“Mr Darlington is not like other men,” countered Georgiana. “He is himself so extraordinarily talented, that he very likely would not feel over-awed by the countess. Indeed, it appeared to me that he was entirely comfortable in her company when he was introducing us to her at the home of Lady Basildon. And as for the admiration of other men, I believe he might tolerate it with greater equanimity than most.”

“Perhaps,” mused Elizabeth.

“And we do not know that the countess does not write. She is so talented, in every possible way, that it would surprise me if she does not write poetry, also. She has such a poetic soul…”

Elizabeth smiled. Georgiana's feelings towards the countess were such a strange mixture of awe, admiration, and jealousy. “In fact, we really know nothing at all of Mr Darlington's feelings concerning the countess. But let us, for a moment, imagine him to be as overcome and in love with her as you imagine. It is by no means certain that such a woman – one who must surely be inured to men falling at her feet – would return his affections. And even if she does, she might very likely not wish to marry him. French customs are very different from ours, I believe, in such matters.”

“Whatever do you mean?” asked Georgiana in alarm.

Elizabeth immediately regretted her words. She did not wish to further upset Georgiana, but an explanation was required. “I understand that it is not entirely uncommon for French ladies, even those who are married, to have romantic liaisons.”

Georgiana gasped. “I have read of such things in French novels, of course; but I never imagined that it really happened – at least not amongst respectable people. Certainly it could not occur in England,” said she, adamantly. “And Mr Darlington is not French! No respectable English gentleman could behave in such a way.”

Elizabeth smiled at her naivety. “My dear Georgiana, I fear that your education has been somewhat lacking in certain areas.” Between her mother and her Aunt Phillips, her own education had suffered no such omissions. “Gentlemen, particularly young unmarried ones, though they behave with all propriety and respectability in the society of ladies, may sometimes behave in quite different ways when drinking together at their clubs, or when they go out on the town.”

“How shocking!” exclaimed Georgiana. “I dare say my governesses shielded me from such knowledge. I have, of course, read about ladies of ill repute, but I never imagined that any respectable gentleman might… visit them. It has never crossed my mind that any gentleman of my acquaintance could have indulged in… such pursuits.”

“I am afraid that it may be more common than you imagine, my dear Georgiana.”

“Good heavens! Do you think it possible that my own brother would do such a thing?” she asked in evident distress.

“I would wish to think not; and I believe it to be unlikely, for he has the highest principles; but in truth, I cannot say,” replied Elizabeth. “A wise wife does not enquire into such matters; at least not with regard to her husband's past behaviour, before they were married. But she will certainly endeavour to ensure that if it has occurred in the past, that it remains past behaviour,” she said with a smile.

Georgiana was so perturbed at this new information that she did not speak for some minutes. Finally she said, “So, in France, it would not be considered shocking for a beautiful young woman to have a… a romance, with a young, unmarried gentleman?”

“I suspect the opposite, rather: it would be thought surprising if so attractive a widow as the countess did not have a lover; and neither of them would be thought of as acting with any great impropriety. The French, perhaps, value romance and passion above propriety.”

“Oh,” was all Georgiana could manage by way of reply. After thinking it over for some time, she said, “I suppose when one really considers it, all these social rules are quite arbitrary; so it is, perhaps, not so surprising that they differ greatly between countries. An English lady of rank, no matter how great her talent, would never dream of performing publicly in the opera; yet in France it is apparently not considered to be lacking in respectability. I imagine that the greater freedom enjoyed by French ladies must make them more fascinating to English gentlemen than their own ladies,” conjectured Georgiana despondently.

It was evident that the conversation had done little to improve Georgiana's spirits. Elizabeth was quite certain that despite her protestations that James Darlington was merely a close friend, a literary mentor, and a confidante, that Georgiana was very much in love with him – even though it was not presently her wish to be his wife.

***

Spring was soon upon them, and what should have been a joyful and happy season was sadly otherwise. Not only was Georgiana downcast, but Julia Darlington also. Heeding Lady Darlington's counsel in the matter, Elizabeth had said not a word to Julia concerning Charlotte's report regarding the immanent engagement of Colonel Fitzwilliam to Anne de Bourgh; but most unfortunately, at dinner one evening, with Lady Darlington and Julia present, Mr Darcy inadvertently made mention of it.

He had just that very morning received a letter from Mr Collins, who was in the habit of writing him an obsequious letter every six months, with the purpose of keeping alive his hopes of future patronage. Mr Collins gave as his pretext for writing on this occasion, the desire to congratulate Mr Darcy on the forthcoming betrothal of his cousins, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Anne de Bourgh. Darcy spoke of the reported engagement as a matter of fact, entirely forgetting the feelings of Julia Darlington for his cousin. But the stern look of his wife across the dinner table quickly reminded him, and he immediately began speaking upon a different subject. The damage, however, was done, and Julia spoke barely another word the entire evening.

***

Thus did Elizabeth find herself surrounded by sadness and gloom, at the very time of year which, formerly, she had associated with the renewal of life and the elevation of the spirits. Fortunately, life seldom pursues the same course for any great length of time; and in a matter of days, events took the first of a number of surprising turns, with the arrival at Kympton of James Darlington, accompanied by the Countess de Namur.

“I decided to emulate Miss Darcy's excellent strategy for evading the matrimonial designs of the Beauchamps, by likewise fleeing into Derbyshire,” Mr Darlington explained to the ladies of Pemberley, whom he visited at the earliest opportunity. “Even an almost total withdrawal from society, on the grounds of the pressing need to devote myself to my writing, and my surreptitious removal to the rooms of an old Cambridge friend, were insufficient to deter the arrival of Lady Beauchamp's unending invitations. Finally, when my hopes and expectations of her ladyship's return to Hampshire at the end of the season were not realised, I decided that if she would not quit town, then I must.”

Elizabeth laughed at Mr Darlington's amusing speech. “And was the Countess de Namur, likewise, in need of escaping Lady Beauchamp?” asked Elizabeth artfully. In common with Georgiana, she was most eager for an explanation of the French lady's presence at Kympton.

“The countess has become so popular in London, and is in such demand to sing at musical soirées and the like, that she, too, wished to escape for a time; so I invited her to stay with my mother and sister at Kympton,” he explained.

Over the following weeks, there was much intercourse between the ladies of Pemberley and of Kympton, and on occasion, the gentlemen also.

Julia's spirits were greatly improved. She was exceedingly fond of her brother, James, and very much enjoyed the charming company of the countess. But for Georgiana, it was something of a trial. The ease and intimacy that existed between Mr Darlington and the countess was greatly evident, and Georgiana was shocked to think that they had travelled alone together from London. But the worst of it was not knowing what were their true feelings for each other. In the absence of knowledge, all manner of conjecture is possible. Yet the more she saw of the countess, the more Georgiana came to genuinely like her, and it was evident that the countess was equally fond of Georgiana. She even offered to teach Georgiana some lovely French songs which she had so much enjoyed hearing the countess sing to them one evening.

James Darlington did not come to Pemberley as often as the ladies from Kympton, as he was presently engaged in writing his fifth novel. However, when he did come, he seemed as eager as previously, to engage Georgiana in discussions on poetry and literature. The novella Georgiana had brought to London was soon to be published in an anthology, and Mr Darlington was encouraging her to write a novel. Georgiana had for some time been thinking to do just that, and talked of her ideas for it with great enthusiasm. Not only were these exchanges of great benefit to Georgiana, but Mr Darlington in his turn was eager to talk on his own project, and to seek Georgiana's opinions concerning various alternatives for the plot he was contemplating.

“We seem to both have a beautiful French opera singer in our plot,” observed Georgiana one sunny afternoon as they were walking together in the gardens, “and they both bear a striking resemblance to the Countess de Namur.”

Mr Darlington laughed. “I hardly think it surprising. When such an exceptional character is encountered in real life, they can be transferred to a novel without need of great alteration or embellishment.”

“Oh yes,” replied Georgiana, enthusiastically, “I could never have created such an extraordinary woman from my own imagination, and she inspires such admiration and desire amongst those she meets that the plot almost grows from the strength of her character.”

“You have indeed mastered the art of novel-writing, Miss Darcy. What you say is not only true of flamboyant characters, such as the countess; but, is equally true of those who tend to hide their light beneath a bushel. If we take the trouble to understand and appreciate their subtlety, they can be equally fascinating and important in shaping our story,” he said, stopping for a moment and looking so intently at her, that time seemed to stop, and all the world faded, leaving just the two of them staring into each other's eyes with an intensity that took Georgiana's breath away. She felt almost frozen in time, unmoving, not even breathing it seemed; all she could feel was the wild fluttering of her heart. How long they stood, thus entranced, before Mr Darlington abruptly turned and walked on, Georgiana knew not. He attempted quickly to return the conversation to a dispassionate examination of the art of the novel-writing; but Georgiana, who remained almost silent thereafter, felt he betrayed a consciousness of that exquisite moment when their eyes had locked. They soon afterwards returned to the house, and for much of the remainder of the day, Georgiana thought over that extraordinary moment, and wondered if Mr Darlington did likewise. Was it equally earth-moving for him, she wondered; or was it already forgotten? What precisely was it that happened today in the garden? she asked herself. Was it possible that it was nothing more than mere fancy and imagination on her part?

***

“Oh, no!” said Elizabeth at breakfast one morning as she read a letter that had arrived in the morning mail.

Her husband and Georgiana looked up at her expectantly. “Is it from my aunt?” asked Mr Darcy. “I suppose it must be the formal announcement of my cousins' engagement? But surely she would have addressed such a letter to me – unless you and my Aunt Catherine have become intimates,” he said, with a wry smile.

Elizabeth chuckled. “Indeed we are not yet become intimates, my dear, and you are quite correct in thinking that she would most certainly have addressed such news to yourself. However, you were not entirely incorrect in your conjecture; in fact you were credibly close to the truth. The letter is from a Lady; but, not that Lady; and although it is not explicitly stated, it very likely concerns an engagement, although not that of your cousins. In fact, I suspect it concerns two engagements.”

Mr Darcy looked puzzled, while Georgiana looked perturbed. “Is the letter from Lady Beauchamp?” she asked. “Surely, we are safe from her matrimonial designs in Derbyshire… unless you have invited her to visit… oh, Elizabeth, please tell me you have not done so!” she begged.

“No,” replied Elizabeth, “I have not done so; but regrettably, the Fortnums have. Although I am certain Lady Beauchamp must have actively solicited the invitation. Her late husband was a cousin of the old squire's wife, was he not, darling?” she asked, turning to her husband.

“Yes, I believe it is something of that nature. There is some kind of relationship. I can recall Lord and Lady Beauchamp visiting at The Grange more than once during Lord Beauchamp's lifetime. My father and Lord Beauchamp were old acquaintances, and very much enjoyed each other's company.”

“Well, darling, it would appear that Lady Beauchamp's visit to The Grange is intended to renew that intimacy between the Beauchamps and the Darcys,” said Elizabeth.

“Oh?” asked her husband. Then looking from his wife to his sister and observing Georgiana's distressed face, he enquired, “Are you are referring to Lord William and Georgiana? Is the son to accompany her into Derbyshire?”

“But of course, my dear,” she said patiently. Why are men so obtuse about such matters, which are so entirely apparent to every lady? wondered Elizabeth. “And her daughter Gwendolyn also; whom, you may recall my explaining to you in London, is to marry James Darlington.”

“What? Are they engaged?” asked Darcy, in surprise. “But did you not tell me that Mr Darlington was not inclined to marry Miss Beauchamp?”

“Yes, my dear, that is quite correct,” she reassured her husband, who was becoming a little confused. “When I said just now, that he was to marry the daughter, I was speaking of Lady Beauchamp's scheme – or at least the other half of it – that will very soon bring her into Derbyshire. The Grange is but seven or eight miles from Pemberley; Lady Beauchamp and her daughter will certainly come to wait upon Georgiana and myself, on the earliest occasion. After her ladyship's excessive hospitality in London, I must invite them all to dine at Pemberley; which will no doubt be followed by an invitation from the Fortnums for us to dine at The Grange.”

“And for Lord William to pay me his addresses,” said Georgiana sighing. “And it will be impossible for me to avoid a private conversation here, as I was able to in London.”

“My dear Georgiana,” said her brother, “I do not understand why you are so set against that young man. Please do not misunderstand me, or imagine that I wish to persuade you to marry where you would not; but if you are inclined to consider him, I wish you to know that I have the very highest opinion of Lord William. When I became aware of his preference for you in London, I considered it my duty to make discreet enquiries regarding his character and his history; and that of his family. I can tell you that I was well satisfied with every detail of information concerning him. More than that, I find him an amiable, principled, and well-informed young man. I would not be unhappy to have him as a brother. As to wealth, you must be aware that his estate in Hampshire is even more splendid than Pemberley. You may be confident that should he pay you his addresses, and be fortunate enough to be accepted, that your union would receive my unreserved blessing.”

Georgiana sighed and took some moments to collect her thoughts before replying. “I thank you for the trouble you have taken on my behalf; and I agree that he is a fine young man and of good character… and yet…” Georgiana could not go on. In her mind, she was again staring into the eyes of James Darlington.

“I believe what Georgiana wishes to say,” said Elizabeth, “is that though she greatly admires Lord William, she does not feel for him what a wife should feel for a husband. She has been enough in his company to know her feelings for him.”

“Is it so?” Darcy asked Georgiana, gently.

“Yes,” she replied softly.

“Very well,” he replied. “Far be it for me to advocate against love in a marriage,” he said, looking affectionately towards his wife.