Read Online Mr. Darcy's Daughters by Elizabeth Aston - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Aston
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count upon it.”
“Then they should have something better to think about. They do not know me, why should I care for the opinion or gossip of a parcel of strangers? Fanny may say I am indisposed, that I have the headache.”
“Exactly what they wish to hear,” cried Fanny. “Nothing could be more calculated to set people talking. No, no, you must come down and dine, and do the civil. If but a hint of your distress gets out, a whisper of how desolée you are made by this news, why, you will never live it down; society will judge you harshly, and you will feel the effects of it, indeed you will.”
Camilla saw that her sister, determined to abjure society, was unmoved. “How they will laugh at you! Imagine how cross Papa will be when the news reaches him that his daughter is the laughing-stock of London.”
Letty bounced up from her chair, her wet handkerchief abandoned, her eyes flashing, her bosom heaving. “Laugh! Laugh at me? They shall not do so.”
Fanny was quick to take her cue. She shook her head sadly. “Camilla is right, indeed she is. I should not care to be the butt of such ridicule myself; although I am the most easygoing of creatures, that, I admit, would upset me greatly. To be considered a joke—It is not to be thought of.”
Thank goodness, their words were finally reaching the mark. Laughter, ridicule, a joke? Letty took herself far too seriously to be able to dismiss the possibility of being an object of derision—a possibility that had never occurred to her, lost as she was in the image of herself as a wronged figure of enduring love.
Letty collapsed with some grace on to the nearest sofa. “Send Sackree to me,” she said in weak tones. “I shall try to endure this ordeal, although God knows, it will be hard.”
Camilla took Letty’s hand. “Fanny will be so grateful to you,” she whispered into her ear. “Only think how she would blame herself if you were to become the talk of the town, and how bad you would feel for ruining the first party she has given for us. Papa would not be pleased at all, you know.”
With these final words, she led Fanny quickly from the room.
“Do you think we should stay with her?” Fanny asked.
“No, for she would feel obliged to keep her face as long as can be; she needs to compose herself into some semblance of normality.”
And, she might have added, if sisterly loyalty hadn’t prevented her, that Letty needed to work herself into the new role of distress valiantly hidden for the sake of others.
Fanny’s dinners were usually successful, thanks to an excellent cook and her talent for choosing guests who were well matched. Tonight’s was not one that she would recall with any satisfaction.
She had worried about Letitia all through her own toilette. Would she break down? Would she disgrace herself and her sisters through a display of emotion in front of others? Would she play her proper role?
Camilla had wondered this, too, but Miss Griffin, summoned to help her dress since Sackree was attending to her sister, had no doubts. Letty knew very well what was expected of her, and the difference between private and public behaviour. She had, after all, been bred up from childhood to company manners, had all the Darcy self-control within her powers; in the end, the governess declared, pride would carry her through.
“And it is her pride rather than her heart that has been most affected, I may tell you,” said Miss Griffin, as she fastened the tiny hooks at the back of Camilla’s bodice. “For all her tears and protestations of undying love.”
“Do you not believe in undying love, Griffy?”
“Not outside the pages of a novel. Now hold still, or you will never be ready in time.”
“Will Alethea come downstairs to sing?”
“She says she would rather not.”
“It would annoy Letty if she were to join the company, even at Fanny’s invitation.”
Miss Griffin thought about this as she set a jewel in Camilla’s hair. “Better
“Then they should have something better to think about. They do not know me, why should I care for the opinion or gossip of a parcel of strangers? Fanny may say I am indisposed, that I have the headache.”
“Exactly what they wish to hear,” cried Fanny. “Nothing could be more calculated to set people talking. No, no, you must come down and dine, and do the civil. If but a hint of your distress gets out, a whisper of how desolée you are made by this news, why, you will never live it down; society will judge you harshly, and you will feel the effects of it, indeed you will.”
Camilla saw that her sister, determined to abjure society, was unmoved. “How they will laugh at you! Imagine how cross Papa will be when the news reaches him that his daughter is the laughing-stock of London.”
Letty bounced up from her chair, her wet handkerchief abandoned, her eyes flashing, her bosom heaving. “Laugh! Laugh at me? They shall not do so.”
Fanny was quick to take her cue. She shook her head sadly. “Camilla is right, indeed she is. I should not care to be the butt of such ridicule myself; although I am the most easygoing of creatures, that, I admit, would upset me greatly. To be considered a joke—It is not to be thought of.”
Thank goodness, their words were finally reaching the mark. Laughter, ridicule, a joke? Letty took herself far too seriously to be able to dismiss the possibility of being an object of derision—a possibility that had never occurred to her, lost as she was in the image of herself as a wronged figure of enduring love.
Letty collapsed with some grace on to the nearest sofa. “Send Sackree to me,” she said in weak tones. “I shall try to endure this ordeal, although God knows, it will be hard.”
Camilla took Letty’s hand. “Fanny will be so grateful to you,” she whispered into her ear. “Only think how she would blame herself if you were to become the talk of the town, and how bad you would feel for ruining the first party she has given for us. Papa would not be pleased at all, you know.”
With these final words, she led Fanny quickly from the room.
“Do you think we should stay with her?” Fanny asked.
“No, for she would feel obliged to keep her face as long as can be; she needs to compose herself into some semblance of normality.”
And, she might have added, if sisterly loyalty hadn’t prevented her, that Letty needed to work herself into the new role of distress valiantly hidden for the sake of others.
Fanny’s dinners were usually successful, thanks to an excellent cook and her talent for choosing guests who were well matched. Tonight’s was not one that she would recall with any satisfaction.
She had worried about Letitia all through her own toilette. Would she break down? Would she disgrace herself and her sisters through a display of emotion in front of others? Would she play her proper role?
Camilla had wondered this, too, but Miss Griffin, summoned to help her dress since Sackree was attending to her sister, had no doubts. Letty knew very well what was expected of her, and the difference between private and public behaviour. She had, after all, been bred up from childhood to company manners, had all the Darcy self-control within her powers; in the end, the governess declared, pride would carry her through.
“And it is her pride rather than her heart that has been most affected, I may tell you,” said Miss Griffin, as she fastened the tiny hooks at the back of Camilla’s bodice. “For all her tears and protestations of undying love.”
“Do you not believe in undying love, Griffy?”
“Not outside the pages of a novel. Now hold still, or you will never be ready in time.”
“Will Alethea come downstairs to sing?”
“She says she would rather not.”
“It would annoy Letty if she were to join the company, even at Fanny’s invitation.”
Miss Griffin thought about this as she set a jewel in Camilla’s hair. “Better
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