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Authors: Abigail Reynolds
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brother talk that way before. Lord Matlock must have said something truly awful. Her brother was so good to her; she had never actually worried much about marrying, since she was sure her brother would have very high standards for her husband.
He was looking out the window, as if fascinated by the pouring rain, his mouth a line of discontent.
She hated seeing him so unhappy. "Is something the matter?"
He turned back to her. "No. I was merely thinking I would not wish to be sitting outside in this weather."
That sounded more like the brother she knew. She gave him a hesitant smile. "Yes, we are fortunate to have our cozy carriage."
"Oh, blast and damnation!" Darcy took his cane and knocked it sharply against the roof of the carriage. The carriage began to slow.
What was it now? She had thought he would like what she said, and instead, it seemed to have made him angrier. He almost never swore in front of her. She was afraid to ask why they were stopping.
When the carriage drew to a halt, Darcy opened the door and swung out before the footman could assist him. Georgiana heard him exchange a few muffled words with the driver, and then the carriage rocked a bit. Why would the driver be coming down, out here in the middle of nowhere?
The door squeaked open again, and to her great surprise, the new maid clambered in, looking quite lost. Darcy was right behind her, his head bent to prevent it from hitting the top of the carriage. "You may sit there," he said brusquely, pointing to the empty corner of the ladies' seat.
"Thank you, sir," the maid said through chattering teeth. The poor thing was soaked through.
Darcy said, as if in explanation, "She has nothing but the clothes she is wearing."
The poor girl. No wonder her brother had stopped. She would catch her death of cold out there. Georgiana shook off the top blanket on her lap and held it up. "Here, let me put this around you. You must be freezing."
"You are very kind, miss." The girl pulled the blanket close around her.
Darcy signaled the driver again, and the carriage clattered on. He looked more content, the lines of worry in his face easing. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Once his deep breathing indicated that the carriage's rocking had put him to sleep, Georgiana rummaged through the blankets to find the hot brick at her feet. Her brother would not have approved of giving it to the girl when she needed it herself, but he would not know.
She handed it to the shivering girl. "You can warm your hands on this."
Her hands darted out of the blanket to take the brick. She held it close to her under the blanket, and Georgiana could see the relief in her face as she felt the warmth. "Thank you, miss."
It was her chance to indulge her curiosity to find out why her brother was bringing the girl. "What is your name?"
"Mary, miss. Mary Abbott."
"Have you been at Rosings long, Mary?"
"No, miss. I live--I lived in the village with my family."
"Have you been to London before?"
"Never, miss. They say it is terrible crowded and full of pickpockets and thieves."
Georgiana smiled. "It is indeed crowded, but you need not worry about pickpockets on Brook Street, where we live. It is very different from Kent, but quite pleasant and safe."
"Is that where I am to go?"
"You do not know?"
The girl looked down. "My father made the arrangements."
It occurred to Georgiana that if Mary's family lived near Rosings, chances were good she would never see them again. A servant could never afford to travel so far, nor would she have the comfort of letters, unless by some miracle she knew how to read and write. Georgiana had never thought much about where the maids in London came from. She knew her brother made certain all their servants were well treated, but she knew nothing of their circumstances. She felt an odd protective urge towards the girl. "You must still be cold. Here, take this wrap as well," she said.
"But miss, then you will take a chill."
"Nonsense, I am
He was looking out the window, as if fascinated by the pouring rain, his mouth a line of discontent.
She hated seeing him so unhappy. "Is something the matter?"
He turned back to her. "No. I was merely thinking I would not wish to be sitting outside in this weather."
That sounded more like the brother she knew. She gave him a hesitant smile. "Yes, we are fortunate to have our cozy carriage."
"Oh, blast and damnation!" Darcy took his cane and knocked it sharply against the roof of the carriage. The carriage began to slow.
What was it now? She had thought he would like what she said, and instead, it seemed to have made him angrier. He almost never swore in front of her. She was afraid to ask why they were stopping.
When the carriage drew to a halt, Darcy opened the door and swung out before the footman could assist him. Georgiana heard him exchange a few muffled words with the driver, and then the carriage rocked a bit. Why would the driver be coming down, out here in the middle of nowhere?
The door squeaked open again, and to her great surprise, the new maid clambered in, looking quite lost. Darcy was right behind her, his head bent to prevent it from hitting the top of the carriage. "You may sit there," he said brusquely, pointing to the empty corner of the ladies' seat.
"Thank you, sir," the maid said through chattering teeth. The poor thing was soaked through.
Darcy said, as if in explanation, "She has nothing but the clothes she is wearing."
The poor girl. No wonder her brother had stopped. She would catch her death of cold out there. Georgiana shook off the top blanket on her lap and held it up. "Here, let me put this around you. You must be freezing."
"You are very kind, miss." The girl pulled the blanket close around her.
Darcy signaled the driver again, and the carriage clattered on. He looked more content, the lines of worry in his face easing. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Once his deep breathing indicated that the carriage's rocking had put him to sleep, Georgiana rummaged through the blankets to find the hot brick at her feet. Her brother would not have approved of giving it to the girl when she needed it herself, but he would not know.
She handed it to the shivering girl. "You can warm your hands on this."
Her hands darted out of the blanket to take the brick. She held it close to her under the blanket, and Georgiana could see the relief in her face as she felt the warmth. "Thank you, miss."
It was her chance to indulge her curiosity to find out why her brother was bringing the girl. "What is your name?"
"Mary, miss. Mary Abbott."
"Have you been at Rosings long, Mary?"
"No, miss. I live--I lived in the village with my family."
"Have you been to London before?"
"Never, miss. They say it is terrible crowded and full of pickpockets and thieves."
Georgiana smiled. "It is indeed crowded, but you need not worry about pickpockets on Brook Street, where we live. It is very different from Kent, but quite pleasant and safe."
"Is that where I am to go?"
"You do not know?"
The girl looked down. "My father made the arrangements."
It occurred to Georgiana that if Mary's family lived near Rosings, chances were good she would never see them again. A servant could never afford to travel so far, nor would she have the comfort of letters, unless by some miracle she knew how to read and write. Georgiana had never thought much about where the maids in London came from. She knew her brother made certain all their servants were well treated, but she knew nothing of their circumstances. She felt an odd protective urge towards the girl. "You must still be cold. Here, take this wrap as well," she said.
"But miss, then you will take a chill."
"Nonsense, I am
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