The Transformation of Georgiana Darcy Page 15

  “Yes, dear… I am real. I have heard much about you from Gareth. My name is Maris Devlin… his mother,” clarified the shape with an incline of her head.

  “Oh! I must apologize for my rudeness, but it is not every day that one meets a…a…” Georgiana faltered for words to appropriately describe the image that stood before her.

  “Ghost…” Maris finished for her with a smile.

  “It is an expected reaction… no offense is taken. I am relieved to know that Gareth has not chosen a silly woman.”

  “Chosen?”

  Georgiana again looked to Gareth to offer an explanation of the words utilized to describe her, but he had managed to slip out into the main library. Maris only waved a spectral hand in her son’s direction to dismiss his flight.

  “He was concerned about our first meeting, but I am sure you and I will become fast friends. I said ‘chosen’ because you are the first person of the female persuasion that he has ever brought to Polwys. Therefore, I assume that he thinks very highly of you…enough to want my approval.”

  “Oh…”

  Georgiana could not think of a reply to this. Gareth had suggested marriage to her when he was still at Pemberley, and while she had thought it were simply due to some sense of guilt, now, in such a short time, her thoughts were turning otherwise. Perhaps it was not a bit of strange luck that had brought them together… was it fate? She needed to find out more, especially his family. Formerly a matter of survival, she now bore a curiosity about him as a person. Who better to ask than his own mother? Curtseying to Maris, Georgiana took a proffered seat and did her best to make a good impression.

  *****

  The hours between when Gareth had left her and when he returned so she may prepare for dinner seemed to simply fly. Maris had wafted around the secret room and did her best to provide answers to all of Georgiana’s questions, in addition to colorful anecdotes about Gareth’s childhood. It was to the sound of peals of laughter that Gareth reentered the room to collect Georgiana. With promises to visit again, Georgiana said good-bye, but made no mention of any marriage acceptance. It was simply too soon for that. However, it was a bit awkward to know that the inheritance of Polwys Tor was going to be awarded to the Devlin who married first. Had that influenced Gareth’s proposal beyond any sense of guilt over his part in her transformation? Once out in the main hall, and where she naively believed out of hearing, Georgiana chided, but also thanked Gareth for the opportunity to meet his mother.

  “I am glad you and she got on… but you know, she is not bound to that room.” He replied with a smile.

  Georgiana looked temporarily panic stricken, as if she were overheard making insulting remarks.

  “Don’t worry, she cannot enter any of the bedchambers but her own, and has always respected the privacy of others.”

  Relief was clearly evident, and Georgiana felt safe enough to continue her assessment.

  “She told me everything… from how our first Darcy ancestor came to be like us and how in some ways, this can even be a blessing. If only I could get this hunger issue under control. I don’t like worrying about eating one of my servants or family.”

  “We shall work on that together…” he promised and escorted her to her chamber.

  *****

  Earlier that morning, before the ladies had come down for breakfast, Darcy told Gareth about Georgiana’s encounter in the woods with the escaped convict. He had hoped to spare his sister the embarrassment, as well as find out if there was a risk of it repeating.

  “I should not think so… I sounds like a defense mechanism. Think of it like the reaction of a mother bear trying to save her cub. She did it out of love, not hunger. During your visit, I shall do my best to assist her in its management. However, I do ask that you find some other entertainment for Mrs. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh at that time, it may be more violent than they wish to witness.”

  Darcy nodded and shook Gareth’s hand. He was indeed relieved. The events of the past months were taking their toll upon him and Lizzie. While they would always do what they could for Georgiana, the episode with Charlie had unnerved them more than he’d like to admit. Now, with Gareth’s reassurances, he could look forward once again.

  “Oh… one more thing, before I lose my nerve…” Gareth said with a twinge of his own nerves.

  Darcy waited for him to continue, fearing the worst, but was happily surprised.

  “I have asked Georgiana to become my wife… but I just need to convince her a bit more. Should she agree, do we have your consent?”

  “If that is what will bring her happiness, I should never deny it.” Darcy agreed wholeheartedly, much to Gareth’s great relief. All he needed to do now, was get Georgiana to agree.

  ~Twenty-three~

  The next few days were spent in an idyllic dream for Georgiana Darcy. Each morning, she and Gareth headed to the stables after breakfast. In addition to offering a grand tour of the entire estate and surrounding area, he wanted to teach her to hunt more effectively. Never again would she suffer the fear of an uncontrolled blood lust due to hunger. At first, it had been awkward as the elder Darcy’s and Anne had accompanied them, but her eagerness had overridden embarrassment. It was a relief to have her family understand her needs. Today, as they headed out, she no longer felt any guilt, and left Lizzie and Anne to their own devices. Having wanted to explore the town of Polwys, they had taken the carriage and arranged to meet later, leaving Georgiana to enjoy Gareth’s company. Darcy too, had made excuses, wanting to call at a local horse breeding farm known for its prize steeds. Alone, save for the watching eyes of nature, Georgiana urged her horse close to Gareth and blushed at his smile of pleasure.

  Today, they had planned a small picnic luncheon. Packed behind Gareth’s mount, it would save the exertion of hunting their food. Georgiana had consumed more than her immediate need of blood with so much recent hunting practice that Gareth wanted this outing to be more social than instructive. Now, as he watched the morning sun glint off the wisps of hair that escaped her bonnet, he thought her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. If only she could possibly return the feelings that grew daily inside him. As of yet, she had not broached the subject of his previous proposal, but in all honesty, they had rarely a private moment together. Hopefully, today he could convince her that his intentions were true and not out of any sense of obligation.

  After riding companionably for some hours, Gareth motioned for them to turn down a grassy path, previously not taken before.

  “I had wanted to show you this place before, but it is not meant to be experienced by a crowd,” he said cryptically.

  Once they rounded a slight bend, the path through the trees widened in to a small clearing, home to a miniature version of Polwys Tor. Not as it now stood, but as it must have been when first built, nearly a century ago. Sliding down from her mount, Georgiana ran up to the structure. Less than one tenth the scale, her head barely missed the top of the entry, grazing her bonnet and causing it to fall down her back by its ribbons.

  “Oh! How lovely… it is as if it stepped straight out of a fairy tale. We have a folly at Pemberley, but it is not like this. Ours is a Roman temple design and rather out of place, but this… This is positively magical!”

  The replica had taken every detail into consideration. From the portcullis with its medieval spiked doorway, to the creeping ivy that threatened to take over, the building was indeed a home more suited to fairies.

  “My father had it built as a wedding present for my mother,” Gareth said matter-of-factly as to avoid any suggestion of marriage, but the meaning was not lost on Georgiana. Turning to run a hand along the stones of one wall, she absently wondered what it would be like to be mistress of the real Polwys. Nowhere as grand as Pemberley, but the fortress had a strange appeal, almost a pulling sensation from some unknown place inside her. Was it the house that called to her, or was it the master?

  Reaching for the basket that Gareth now took from his horse, she busied
herself as a distraction, but to no avail as she felt his eyes upon her. Reaching for her hands, he stopped her labors.

  “Just one… only one… and I shall be content.”

  “One what...” she asked with breathless hesitation. For a moment, all was silent but the chirping of birds as she was answered by his lips claiming hers. Indeed, it was the, warm breathing master of Polwys that had captured her and not the cold pile of stones.

  *****

  While Georgiana was so happily distracted, Lizzie and Anne took full measure of the hamlet of Polwys. Consisting of no more than three avenues crossing the main thoroughfare, it boasted a dry goods, bakery, and milliners in addition to a single pub that served as both town hall and post office. By mid-morning, they had examined every piece of ribbon and tried on every bonnet to be had, spending money on items they did not need, but felt obliged to buy after taking up so much of the proprietor’s time. Finding the town seamstress to also be the authority on local gossip, Lizzie and Anne discovered much about the reputation and rumors of the Devlin’s

  “Gareth be the lord of the Tor, to be sure, but Ewan Devlin… now there’s a body to be sure. Quite the charmer, amazing that they have not married by now. I suppose old Maris Devlin thought to live a bit longer,” voiced a very portly Mrs. Andrews through a mouth full of pins as she arranged an elaborate confection of feathers to the ugliest hat Lizzie had ever seen.

  They had not volunteered the information that they were guests of the very house of which she spoke, preferring to keep it between them. Soon, every person in the village had been accounted for in terms of character, marital status and fortune. Suppressing a giggle, Anne volunteered to try on the now completed feathered bonnet, much to the amusement of all, before selecting a more modest creation. Overall, it had been a very pleasant morning, and now they sought some refreshment.

  “The pub has a passable tea… Much better now that young Amos and his new wife have taken over the place. Mattie has done her best to put a bit of polish on the place, table cloths and all. They even put in a separate side entrance just for the ladies not wanting to enter the common room.”

  Lizzie smiled and arched an eyebrow at Anne, it was too early to return, despite having exhausted the attractions of the town.

  “It sounds lovely,” agreed Anne as they paid for their purchases and followed the simple directions to the new tearoom. Once inside, they admitted that it was rather charming with the fresh flowers and crisp lace curtained windows. Nodding politely to the assortment of local customers who were already enjoying small sandwiches and aromatic pots of tea, Anne and Lizzie chose a table close to the entrance. With a large picture window that faced the street, they were offered an additional entertainment watching passersby. It was with this clear view, that they spotted Ewan Devlin walking swiftly from the blacksmith’s across the way. Anne wrinkled her nose at the sight of him, a reaction not lost on Elizabeth, but she held her opinion. He appeared angry as he spoke with a burly man in a leather apron who followed him out of the establishment before tossing the man what appeared to be coins and turning his steps towards the road to Polwys. Unfortunately, his journey took him directly past the tea room where he saw the women. Forcing a smile out of good breeding and manners, Anne acknowledged him and he entered the shop.

  “What a pleasure this is indeed,” he said with a bow before taking an unoccupied chair from another table and settling himself closer than what was appropriate to Anne. Inching her own chair away in an attempt to publicly demonstrate willingness to allow him to join the party, but in reality, Anne wanted as much space between them as possible. She felt as if someone had dropped a snake on her plate.

  Helping himself to a slice of cake, he waved to a maidservant for an additional cup and saucer, before speaking again.

  “What have you ladies been up to this morning? Some shopping?” he inquired as he eyed the selection of wrapped packages that lay upon the table.

  “We thought to take in the sights of the area. My husband is off to purchase a horse and as for Georgiana…. She and Gareth are out riding,” said Elizabeth.

  “Ah yes… Miss Darcy does seem taken with my cousin. Is there any chance of an impending announcement?” he asked more bluntly than was proper.

  Taken aback by his forwardness, Elizabeth did not proffer an answer, only raised an eyebrow across the table at Anne as Ewan once again concentrated on an additional piece of cake.

  “I suppose it will be soon enough….it does place a certain air of romance about the old house. Perhaps it is contagious,” He supplied while casting Anne a grin through his still full mouth. Anne wondered how he managed to speak without spewing crumbs.

  Seeing Anne’s obvious discomfort, Elizabeth made their apologies and rose to go, “It has been a long morning, and I admit to an unusual fatigue, do excuse us.”

  “Returning so soon? That is indeed fortunate… might I beg a ride? My horse has gone lame, and I fear that I am stranded here, save a three mile walk home.”

  Anne inwardly groaned at the idea of having to spend more time around the man. However, it was impossibly rude for them to refuse, and he insisted upon settling the bill for the tea most generously. How could one man be so charming, yet so repulsive at the same time? At least Elizabeth was there to spare her any improper advances and the elder woman ensured that Ewan Devlin sat on the seat across from them for the journey back. Upon arrival, Ewan gallantly handed each of the ladies from the carriage, his hand lingering on Anne’s longer than was necessary, requiring her to pull it away. Laughing at her actions, he made one more request before allowing them to retire above stairs.

  “Miss Anne… I hope you will do me the honor of a dance at this Saturday’s festivities?”

  Anne only nodded, anything to hasten their escape, secretly hoping that he would forget by then. As she and Lizzie ascended the stair, Anne could feel his eyes watching them as they went. Something was definitely not right about that man’s intentions. When they were sure to be out of earshot, Elizabeth offered her assistance.

  “Anne… you need not associate with him. Darcy can speak with Gareth if needed.”

  “I will be fine… but thank you. If it comes to that, be assured, I shall ask.”

  Not entirely convinced, but unwilling to press, Elizabeth went to her own chamber, suddenly exhausted.

  Below, Ewan Devlin laughed to himself as he watched Anne’s discomfort. She was indeed amusing to prod. He had a feeling that there was a feisty woman hidden under all those prim and proper manners. Perhaps some encouragement was in order… if that did not work, he would always resort to the old ways. Once a woman was ruined she’d marry immediately, like it or not. From what he had learned about her status and fortune, Anne de Bourgh was well worth the risk. If he played his cards right, not only would he have her, but Polwys Tor and Rosings Park. Let Gareth have Georgiana Darcy…. Anne was the greater prize. Walking away, he quietly whistled a tune as he orchestrated a plan to ensure success. The only one to observe his actions was a shifting shape of a woman with glowing blue eyes hovering in the shadows. The spectre of Maris Devlin followed her nephew out into the gardens, plotting her own interference if necessary.

  ~Twenty-four~

  Saturday evening….

  Agreeing to act as hostess, in the absence of a lady of the keep, Georgiana stood beside Gareth as they welcomed nearly thirty of his near relations and friends from neighboring estates. It was a happy discovery to find that a number of the arrivals also bore the same unusual characteristics so common at Polwys. Georgiana’s amazement soon turned to a sense of belonging with the realization that there were many others like them. She would have no need to hide when in their company.

  “Some of our ancestors had large families that intermarried with other local families. As you can see, the trait pops up randomly. While it is more common for two parents with the same condition to have all their children affected, it is not the rule. There does not seem to be any particular rhyme or reason as to
who is born such, only that it can be deliberately passed, or in your case… accidentally.”

  Georgiana was pleased to hear this, but it had been some time since she considered her new status an affliction. Now, with her new acquaintances, it was more of a happy accident. Anne, with so many unmarried and eligible young men in attendance, was also beside herself with delight. It was rare that Lady Catherine entertained in such numbers, or allowed Anne to socialize so openly. It also allowed her to avoid Ewan completely. Aside from the first promised dance, the rest of her night had been filled, as well as an escort for dinner. Nicholas Keithly, the younger son of a landowner who bordered Polwys, had hovered near her since his arrival. Nicholas did not have any of the family trait, despite his sister and mother demonstrating the matching ash white hair and piercing blue eyes. In contrast, Nick, as he immediately insisted Anne address him, was a handsome raven haired man with green eyes. Amused, Georgiana observed many a jealous eye turn in their direction, especially that of Ewan Devlin. The younger Devlin cousin had kept to the perimeter of the room. He circled about like a caged animal, watching everyone. Staying wary, but refusing to allow him to ruin her evening, she placed her hand protectively in the crook of Gareth’s arm as they finally went in to dinner. With each day, Georgiana felt her desire to not leave his side grow stronger. Was she beginning to love him? If so, it was the most wonderful feeling. Ever since she had allowed him to kiss her, it seemed that a bond had been sealed, one that she never wanted to break.

  *****

  Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy also played the keen observers that evening. Not only protective of Georgiana, but also cautious about Ewan Devlin’s attentions towards Anne de Bourgh. Both Darcy’s had felt more than a twinge of guilt over Anne at the beginning of their marriage. It was only after it had been made adamantly clear by Anne herself of no ill feelings that they had been able to relax in her presence.