The Darcy Cousins by Monica Fairview Page A
Authors: Monica Fairview
Tags: Jane Austen Fan Lit
Ads: Link
tears for no apparent reason but for spilling some lemonade.
Mr Gatley took out a handkerchief and dabbed calmly at his coat.
"It is nothing at all," he said. "A little lemonade never harmed anyone." At that moment his gaze fell on her face and the handkerchief stopped moving.
He knew she had heard everything.
She waited for him to speak, but he did not. He resumed his dabbing. When he was finished, he quietly put the handkerchief in his pocket. He took her by the elbow and led her to a seat by the window.
"I always find it easier to sip lemonade when sitting down,"
he said.
She expected him to say something else--to apologise perhaps for his cousin or try to pretend the conversation she overheard had not been about her, but he did not.
"I think lemonade is just the thing," she said, "when one is in a crowded room and has been dancing."
No wonder Mr Channing thought her insipid and boring. She could not have made a remark more calculated to prove him right.
"Lemons," remarked Mr Gatley gravely, "have been known for their restorative traits for centuries. I have heard that they are treasured in the hot climates of the Mediterranean for precisely that reason."
92
THE DARCY COUSINS
"Are they indeed?" she murmured, wishing more than anything that she could excuse herself, for what could be more banal than this conversation about lemons?
"I have visited the south of Spain in the spring," he continued,
"and I can assure you there is nothing more wonderful than the aroma of orange and lemon trees in blossom."
"Yes, there are orange trees in Lady Catherine's orangery. The aroma is wonderful, as you say."
She thought of Anne, hiding under the trees.
In another corner of the room, Clarissa was talking enthusiastically, probably spinning a tale about Boston, to judge by the fascinated interest of the young people around her.
Her eyes sought out Channing. He was not with Clarissa. The throng occupying the centre of the room made it impossible to see him from where she was sitting. She should not seek him in any case--not now. Then she spotted him, bowing to Athena Moffet as a country dance came to an end. His smile was devastating.
A new set was forming, and Mr Gatley asked her to dance. Since no one else had claimed the dance, she had no choice but to stand up with him, though she could hardly put two words together.
They met and parted in what Georgiana supposed must have been the correct moves, but beyond that she saw nothing.
At the end, he guided her to where Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth stood, and she felt safe again.
But not for very long. They could do nothing to protect her from Channing's words, after all.
93
Chapter 9
Georgiana resolved to spend the day after the dance in bed. She knew very well that everyone would ask her all kinds of questions. They would expect her to be exuberant, and tease her about her partners and try to discover if she had a favourite admirer. What could she answer? Better to avoid questions altogether--at least until she had recovered her spirits enough to be cheerful. Perhaps then she could honestly say she had found it entertaining. Which she had, in a way, for Mr Gatley had been an agreeable partner, and Mr Moffet had paid her flattering attention, and she had danced a great deal.
But why, oh why had she gone to the refreshments table? If only she had gone to stand with Clarissa instead of Caroline and Robert, she would not have overheard Mr Channing's dreadful words.
Groaning inwardly, she drew the sheet over her head only to have it yanked from her.
"I do not know why you are pretending to be asleep, but whatever your reasons," said Clarissa, "I do not intend to let you get away with it."
Georgiana feigned sleep as hard as she could, hoping Clarissa would go away.
MONICA FAIRVIEW
But Clarissa leaned over and tickled her on her sides.
"What!" She sprang up in bed and stared at her.
"Aha!" said Clarissa. "I knew that would do the trick."
"How dare you..." Georgiana
Mr Gatley took out a handkerchief and dabbed calmly at his coat.
"It is nothing at all," he said. "A little lemonade never harmed anyone." At that moment his gaze fell on her face and the handkerchief stopped moving.
He knew she had heard everything.
She waited for him to speak, but he did not. He resumed his dabbing. When he was finished, he quietly put the handkerchief in his pocket. He took her by the elbow and led her to a seat by the window.
"I always find it easier to sip lemonade when sitting down,"
he said.
She expected him to say something else--to apologise perhaps for his cousin or try to pretend the conversation she overheard had not been about her, but he did not.
"I think lemonade is just the thing," she said, "when one is in a crowded room and has been dancing."
No wonder Mr Channing thought her insipid and boring. She could not have made a remark more calculated to prove him right.
"Lemons," remarked Mr Gatley gravely, "have been known for their restorative traits for centuries. I have heard that they are treasured in the hot climates of the Mediterranean for precisely that reason."
92
THE DARCY COUSINS
"Are they indeed?" she murmured, wishing more than anything that she could excuse herself, for what could be more banal than this conversation about lemons?
"I have visited the south of Spain in the spring," he continued,
"and I can assure you there is nothing more wonderful than the aroma of orange and lemon trees in blossom."
"Yes, there are orange trees in Lady Catherine's orangery. The aroma is wonderful, as you say."
She thought of Anne, hiding under the trees.
In another corner of the room, Clarissa was talking enthusiastically, probably spinning a tale about Boston, to judge by the fascinated interest of the young people around her.
Her eyes sought out Channing. He was not with Clarissa. The throng occupying the centre of the room made it impossible to see him from where she was sitting. She should not seek him in any case--not now. Then she spotted him, bowing to Athena Moffet as a country dance came to an end. His smile was devastating.
A new set was forming, and Mr Gatley asked her to dance. Since no one else had claimed the dance, she had no choice but to stand up with him, though she could hardly put two words together.
They met and parted in what Georgiana supposed must have been the correct moves, but beyond that she saw nothing.
At the end, he guided her to where Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth stood, and she felt safe again.
But not for very long. They could do nothing to protect her from Channing's words, after all.
93
Chapter 9
Georgiana resolved to spend the day after the dance in bed. She knew very well that everyone would ask her all kinds of questions. They would expect her to be exuberant, and tease her about her partners and try to discover if she had a favourite admirer. What could she answer? Better to avoid questions altogether--at least until she had recovered her spirits enough to be cheerful. Perhaps then she could honestly say she had found it entertaining. Which she had, in a way, for Mr Gatley had been an agreeable partner, and Mr Moffet had paid her flattering attention, and she had danced a great deal.
But why, oh why had she gone to the refreshments table? If only she had gone to stand with Clarissa instead of Caroline and Robert, she would not have overheard Mr Channing's dreadful words.
Groaning inwardly, she drew the sheet over her head only to have it yanked from her.
"I do not know why you are pretending to be asleep, but whatever your reasons," said Clarissa, "I do not intend to let you get away with it."
Georgiana feigned sleep as hard as she could, hoping Clarissa would go away.
MONICA FAIRVIEW
But Clarissa leaned over and tickled her on her sides.
"What!" She sprang up in bed and stared at her.
"Aha!" said Clarissa. "I knew that would do the trick."
"How dare you..." Georgiana
Similar Books
