Pride Prejudice and Prodigy

The Beau Beauchamps

Chapter 12 ~ The Beau Beauchamps

Kitty, who had come to stay at Grosvenor Square, was sitting one morning with Elizabeth and Georgiana when the mail was brought in.

Elizabeth smiled as she announced, “We are invited to a ball to be given by Lady Beauchamp on Saturday evening.”

“Am I invited, also?” asked Kitty hopefully.

“Indeed you are, my dear,” answered Elizabeth, “and I have no doubt that Jane and Charles Bingley will, likewise, receive an invitation.”

Kitty was in ecstasy. Lady Beauchamp's ball at her Park Lane residence was spoken of as one of the highlights of the season. To receive an invitation was the greatest pleasure a young lady could possibly imagine. Almost as delightful as the ball itself, would be the reporting of it, to all the young ladies of her acquaintance who had not been so fortunate as to receive an invitation; as to what was worn, who was present, and with whom they danced. While Kitty was giving expression to her rapture at receiving an invitation – very quickly followed by the agony of deciding what she should wear – Elizabeth reflected upon the marked intimacy that had developed between themselves and the Beauchamps in the weeks following Lady Beauchamp's musical soirée, at which Georgiana had been persuaded to perform in the piano quartet.

An invitation to dine at Park Lane, which also included Mr and Mrs Bingley and Kitty, had very soon followed. Elizabeth was bound to return the courtesy; and the following week, the Beauchamps had dined with them at Grosvenor Square. Lady Beauchamp had further honoured them with invitations to join her party in attending a number of grand musical performances. James Darlington, a great favourite of Lady Beauchamp, had also been present on these occasions.

“Oh, there is a note for you, Georgiana, enclosed with the invitation,” said Elizabeth, handing it to her.

Georgiana opened it, and sighed. “It is a great pity,” she said, “that I have been attending so many events with the Beauchamps, of late. Before coming to town, I had planned to avoid invitations to balls, and the like, on the grounds that I am not yet out; but I suppose it will not do now.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Sadly, my dear, there is no precedent for going back in, after one has come out. But why does the note distress you? Who is it from?”

“Oh, Elizabeth,” chided Kitty, “even I can guess the author of the note. It will be from Lord William, requesting the pleasure of the two first dances with Georgiana. You must know that he is violently in love with her!”

“Please, Kitty, please, do not say it,” begged Georgiana. “And the note is not from Lord William.”

“No, of course, not,” said Elizabeth. “That would be entirely improper; and the Beauchamps are most attentive to social propriety and etiquette. Kitty is doubtless correct, that Lord William wishes to engage you for the first two dances; however, the request will have come from his mother or his sister, I imagine?”

“Yes,” said Georgiana dispiritedly. His sister, Gwendolyn, makes the request on Lord William's behalf, and I cannot refuse.”

“Honestly, Georgiana,” exclaimed Kitty, “Lord William Beauchamp is, without doubt, one of the most handsome, most eligible – not to mention wealthiest – young men in all of England. All the young ladies swoon over him. How can you be so indifferent, when he singles you out for such marked preference?”

“Oh, he is nice enough,” replied Georgiana. “His manners and conduct are exactly what they ought to be. He is charming and gallant and… yes, he is handsome, no doubt, but…”

“But what more could you possibly dream of, Georgiana?” demanded Kitty incredulously. “Sometimes I cannot fathom you!” Then suddenly rising, she said: “Oh, I must go to the dressmakers immediately! I shall tell them to hurry with my new gown, for I have decided to wear it to Lady Beauchamp's ball. But I think I must ask for some alterations. Perhaps more lace at the neck and the sleeves would be more fitting for so grand a ball? Will either of you accompany me?”

“I am sorry, Kitty,” said Georgiana, sighing, “but I am too distressed about the ball, I would prefer to remain at home, this morning.”

“Not I,” replied Elizabeth. “I have business that requires immediate attention, but you are most welcome to take the carriage.”

When Kitty had left them, Elizabeth turned to her intended business. “Georgiana, my dear, I want to ask you seriously about your feelings for Lord William. It is very evident that he has formed a marked preference for you. From my own observation, it goes well beyond the simple enjoyment of the pleasure of a young lady's company amongst the whirlwind of the delights of the season. I have also formed the opinion that Lady Beauchamp would view a match between you and her son with heartfelt joy.”

Georgiana sighed. “She has been doing everything in her power to forward the match. She always contrives to ensure that we are seated together at the concert hall or opera house or the theatre. And whenever music is played before a small party, she always requests me to play the pianoforte in accompaniment to Lord William on the cello; when I would rather accompany…”

“James Darlington,” finished Elizabeth.

“Naturally; of course – he is by far the superior musician, as you well know,” said Georgiana defensively.

“But we were talking of Lord William Beauchamp. That Lady Beauchamp wishes for the match is evident. As to the son, though he behaves with the utmost respect and deference to his mother, I do not believe him to be the sort of young man who would contemplate such a step, simply to gratify the wishes of his mother. It is my belief that he is genuinely very fond of you, Georgiana, quite independently of his mother's preference. And I must tell you: I have the highest opinion of him.”

“I too; I like him very much. His behaviour towards me is at all times courteous and gallant; and he possesses, no doubt, every charm of pleasing that a young lady could wish for. His mother, Lady Beauchamp, treats me with the greatest kindness and consideration; and his sister, Gwendolyn, is delightful. And yet…” Georgiana reflected silently for some moments, before adding. “I do not know if I could ever love him.”

Elizabeth sighed deeply. There was no need to ask Georgiana if she knew what love was; Elizabeth felt quite certain that she did – and that Georgiana was in love with James Darlington. Elizabeth blamed herself for forwarding the hopeless match between them. So long as Georgiana felt as she did about Mr Darlington, she would never let another into her heart. It was all so vexing: whichever way one looked at it, Lord William was the perfect match for her sister. His tremendous wealth must completely disarm Georgiana's fear of being duped for her thirty thousand pounds; and there was as good a chance of her finding happiness with Lord William as there could be with almost any other gentleman she could think of – almost.

Georgiana broke Elizabeth's reverie. “Perhaps Lady Beauchamp will have greater luck with the other match she is forwarding,” she said, stoically. “You must have noticed…”

“Oh yes,” replied Elizabeth, with a sigh. “There can be no doubt that she would love to have James Darlington for her son. Not only is she enchanted with his musical virtuosity, but I believe she is genuinely fond of him. But as to the daughter, it is not so easy to divine her feelings. Gwendolyn Beauchamp may not be the most talented of musicians, but when it comes to social wiles and graces, she is a true adept. She would never exhibit a marked preference for any young man, until she was sure of his heart.”

Georgiana laughed. “You describe her well. She plays the social game with rare talent and intelligence. Yet beneath it all, she is kind and amiable. We have developed a degree of intimacy, these last few weeks. When we two are alone, she speaks often of Mr Darlington. Since learning of my acquaintance with him, and his family, she asks me all manner of questions concerning them all.”

“Do you believe her to be in love with him?” enquired Elizabeth.

“I should say that she believes herself to be in love,” replied Georgiana with an ironic smile, “Although she is never explicit, even with me. I made the mistake of mentioning that Mr Darlington had painted my portrait, and now she has begged her mother to ask him to paint her, also.”

“Oh dear, it seems that poor Mr Darlington is to suffer further distraction from his writing,” said Elizabeth. “Still, he paints very quickly; as I recall, he completed my portrait in well under an hour – in fact I was totally unaware of what he was doing; I believed him to be painting a landscape.”

“He took the whole morning over mine,” replied Georgiana. “Although we spent most of the time talking, and he very often forgot what he was about.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Gwendolyn Beauchamp does not strike me as the young lady who could engage James Darlington in serious conversation for a whole morning.”

“No, perhaps not,” conceded Georgiana. “Do you think he likes her, Elizabeth?” she asked softly.

“Any young man must enjoy the company of so beautiful and charming a young lady; and James Darlington is no exception.” replied Elizabeth. Georgiana looked suddenly serious and concerned, so she added. “However, there are gentlemen who would seek something more substantial than mere social graces and decorative qualities in a wife.”

“Such as money?” asked Georgiana. “I have heard that Gwendolyn's fortune is a hundred thousand pounds, at least.”

“That might well count against her,” said Elizabeth.

“I do not understand,” said Georgiana. “Do you mean that Mr Darlington might consider it dishonourable to marry a wealthy woman – being poor himself?”

Elizabeth felt like kicking herself, as she recalled him saying: I despise men who marry for money. Firstly, the conversation had been in confidence, and secondly, it was equally applicable to Georgiana as to Gwendolyn. “I cannot speak for Mr Darlington. It was a general comment that there are such gentlemen, and Mr Darlington, for all his unconventionality, has a very high standard of personal honour, I believe.”

Georgiana fell silent as she considered Elizabeth's words. If he were such a man, then Mr Darlington would not marry Gwendolyn Beauchamp – a fear which had been preying much on her mind in recent days.

Elizabeth broke her train of thought. “But regardless of such considerations, there is a more cogent reason why such a match is most unlikely.”

“What?” asked Georgiana.

“Mr Darlington would not marry without love – one only need consider his novels to realise what an unmitigated romantic he is.”

“But he might fall in love with Gwendolyn – if he has not already done so.”

Elizabeth smiled. “I am convinced that he is already in love – with another lady.”

Georgiana gasped. “But who? Not you? Not still? You are a married woman now; it would be quite shocking!”

Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, Georgiana, sometimes you are so blind! Of course I was not referring to myself – and I am not even convinced that he ever was in love with me; I think it may well have been mere fascination and infatuation. Whatever it was, it is long since over, on both sides.”

“But then who could you mean? Surely you do not think he loves …?”

“Georgiana, you are a most perceptive young lady. At Lady Beauchamp's ball, observe Mr Darlington's eyes when he is dancing with Gwendolyn Beauchamp, and compare them to when he dances with you.”

“Oh. But he may not ask me to dance.”

“I am certain he will – although not the first two dances. It is quite certain that Lady Beauchamp will have hinted to Mr Darlington, at the great pleasure it would give her, to see him engage her daughter, Gwendolyn, for those dances. In any case, you yourself are engaged for the first set to Lord William. The four of you will open the ball. It is sad, and a little ironic, that both of the matches which Lady Beauchamp strives for, will fail for the very same reason.”

“Whatever do you mean?” asked Georgiana, perplexed.

Elizabeth was about to reply, “Sadly for Lady Beauchamp, the two partners she has set her heart on for her children, have already set their hearts upon each other.” But realising that this would not be helpful, she said instead, “I shall leave it for you to puzzle over, Georgiana. But first, please turn your mind to how you will respond to Lord William's addresses, which I believe, may be imminent. I can tell you, from bitter experience, that when the time comes, a young lady wishes she was prepared for such an occasion.”

“I shall certainly endeavour to refuse him with a greater degree of gentleness and grace than you showed my poor brother in Kent,” said Georgiana, grinning. She had long been privy to all the fascinating details of her brother and Elizabeth's romance.

Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, it was an abject lesson indeed; and one that I learned from. For when your brother renewed his addresses in Hertfordshire, I was very decided about how I should respond. I am well aware that you are not presently disposed to accept Lord William. I would caution you, however, not to be too unequivocal in your rejection. Rather than saying no, never, you could tell him that you are not yet ready to marry.”

“But that would he unfair to him. It would likely give him hope that I shall later change my mind.”

“And indeed, you may, Georgiana. I know you wish to object that you never shall, but in truth, none of us can ever know, for certain, how we will feel, and what we might wish for, at a later time in our lives when circumstances are very different. My own feelings with regard to your brother, are an excellent example of how materially ones opinions and inclinations can alter over time. Just imagine, for instance, that Mr Darlington were to marry – be it Gwendolyn Beauchamp, or any other young lady.”

“Oh, how terrible that would be,” cried Georgiana.

“Yet you have told me that you do not wish to marry him,” said Elizabeth.

“I do not; and he very likely does not wish to marry me. You have intimated that he would be uncomfortable marrying a wealthy young lady – which must necessarily include myself. All I wish for, is to remain his good friend, to see him often, to be able to write to him about so many things, which – were he to marry – would no longer be possible. Why can things not stay the same?” pleaded Georgiana.

Elizabeth was about to say: “the usual way to prevent a gentleman from marrying another, and to ensure the continuance of such intimacies, is marriage.” But she kept her counsel, for, despite the feelings of both parties, their marriage appeared utterly impossible.

***

Lady Beauchamp's arrangements for the ball exceeded their wildest expectations. Elizabeth and Jane had never experienced anything so grand, and a palpable current of excitement ran through the guests as the thirty-six piece orchestra played an opening flourish to announce the first dance. Lord William and Georgiana led off the dance, followed by James Darlington and Gwendolyn Beauchamp. Not the slightest hint was required from Elizabeth for her husband to lead her to the floor.

Elizabeth was unsurprised to see James Darlington with Georgiana at the start of the second set. “My dear,” she said to her husband. “I think it would be most politic for you to ask Lady Beauchamp to be your partner for this set.”

“Oh?” he asked with surprise.

“I will explain later, darling,” she said with some urgency, which was sufficient to send him on his way. Charles Bingley, shortly afterwards, requested the honour of dancing the set with Elizabeth, to which she gladly acceded. Her occasional glimpse of James Darlington and Georgiana dancing was enough to convince her that if Georgiana made the observation, which she had suggested some days earlier, regarding Mr Darlington's eyes, she would have not the slightest doubt as to his feelings for his first two partners. It was expressly to hinder Lady Beauchamp from making the same observation that Elizabeth had encouraged her husband to engage her ladyship to dance.

In the third set, Elizabeth allowed her husband to dance with her again; but she advised him that it was not the done thing for a husband to dance too much with his own wife.

“What? Even though she be the most beautiful and charming lady in the ballroom?” he asked with a smile. “How can I be expected to wish to dance with another?”

“As it happens, I can remember a particular assembly in Meryton, my dear, when you managed to resist me very well,” she said with a wicked smile.

“Am I never to be forgiven for that unconscionable crime?” begged he.

“Oh, I forgave you long ago, my dear, and I am well pleased, that in spite of what you once professed, you now take great enjoyment in the dance.”

“If every dance were with you, most certainly I should,” he replied gallantly. And yet when the set was finished, he was happy to dance the next with Jane Bingley, of whom he had become very fond.

Elizabeth danced with James Darlington, who appeared a little discomforted. “I have just been dancing with Lady Beauchamp,” he said by way of explanation for his present poor humour.

“I had the impression that Lady Beauchamp was exceedingly fond of you, Mr Darlington. She treats you almost as a son,” said Elizabeth smiling mischievously. “And one suspects that her ladyship entertains hopes of soon calling you one.”

“Oh yes, indeed she does,” replied her partner, sighing. “I respect Lady Beauchamp greatly, and have the very highest opinion of her daughter, but…”

“You do not wish to marry her.”

“Exactly,” replied Mr Darlington.

“You poor man, firstly you had me forwarding a match with Miss Darcy, and now Lady Beauchamp tries to match you with her daughter.”

“But there is no comparison,” protested Mr Darlington. “With you it was all subtlety and playful hints. Whereas Lady Beauchamp is become increasingly direct. I do not know how to escape her.”

“And yet, I must confess, Mr Darlington, to feeling heartily ashamed of myself. Had I given the matter greater thought, I would have seen the impossibility of my scheme ever succeeding. All I have achieved, with my interference, is to create a bond between two young people which seems destined never to achieve fruition; and yet may serve to prevent them both from finding happiness with another – such as Miss Beauchamp.”

“You are too severe upon yourself, Mrs Darcy. You acted from the very best of intentions, and though fruition of the matrimonial kind seems impossible, a unique friendship has grown between us; which, in many ways, is deeper and more delightful than many a marriage. I, for one, refuse to believe that marriage is the defining, and only possible form of relationship, which may exist between a man and a woman.”

“There may be truth in your somewhat alarming and unconventional views, Mr Darlington; but you must, doubtless, be aware of the accepted proprieties that govern and decree what is proper behaviour between a gentleman and a young lady who are neither married, nor betrothed. I know you to be disdainful of social conventions; but for Miss Darcy's sake, I beg you to heed them.”

“But of course. I would never do anything to harm Miss Darcy. However, this conversation may soon be entirely theoretical.”

“What do you mean?” asked Elizabeth.

“You can hardly have failed to notice that Lady Beauchamp is assiduously forwarding more than one match. I am well aware from my intimacy with Lord William, that he is quite smitten with Miss Darcy, and is only in want of the opportunity, to pay her his addresses… and that will be the sad end of our unique friendship.”

“Yes it would be… if she were to accept him,” replied Elizabeth.

“Then you think she might not? I do not see how any young lady could refuse such a suitor. I have already decided to base the hero of my next novel upon his character and circumstances. He is everything that a young lady could possibly wish for.”

“You are very astute in your understanding of what is acceptable to the reading public; which no doubt explains your enormous success. When you write – when you construct your characters – you are aiming to please the greatest number of readers. You shape them to suit the general approbation, and as such, a Sir Walter Bonython – or whatever you choose to call your new hero – may indeed find favour, and excite the hearts of your female readership, in general, and yet not find favour in the heart of every young lady.”

“Such as Georgiana Darcy?” asked Mr Darlington, eliciting only a smile from Elizabeth.