The noise from the crowds of pedestrians and carriages along Gracechurch Street woke Elizabeth shortly after dawn. She looked out the window of Mr. Gardiner’s townhouse. What cause could possibly wake so many people at barely six o’clock in the morning?

London, the greatest city in the world, was alive.

Mr. Darcy had not returned south with his sister.

When Jane first exclaimed the news that Georgiana was to marry Mr. Peake, Elizabeth’s heart had leapt in hope. Strange that she hoped for something from him. For several minutes she was too crushed by sadness to rejoice in her friend’s fortune. Georgiana at one time was to become her sister. Now she had chosen to defy her brother, and he had chosen to sit brooding upon his dark estate, keeping company with its ghosts, whose sensibilities could not be defied, even at the cost of all happiness for himself and those he loved most.

Georgiana had traveled in haste to London, arriving two days after her birthday. In a dramatic gesture she had her carriage driven to the warehouses of Gardiner and Peake, and then while the coachman protected its position on a crowded London street from the screaming cab drivers and cartmen, she entered the offices. She found Mr. Peake with Mr. Gardiner in the middle of an interview with a crusty East Indiaman ship captain with a pegleg and a pirate’s earring.

The natural result was that Peake and Georgiana were to be married as soon as the papers were signed and Peake’s business settled — money was no object, so a special license had been procured — both Peake and Georgiana had particular ideas on how to protect Anne and Georgiana in the marriage settlement, and it took several days for the lawyers to legalize the documents. Also Peake needed a period of time to set his affairs in order such that he could have a holiday of two weeks from his business. He and Georgiana would honeymoon along the seashore — not in Ramsgate.

When Mr. Gardiner told the story, the crusty sea captain leered at Georgiana as she and Peake kissed upon seeing each other, until he was charmed by Anne asking about his earring, and the carriage in the street caused a traffic snarl at least a mile and a half long — Elizabeth suspected her uncle to exaggerate, but the ward of Cheap was a prosperous and busy section of London — and his warehousemen stopped dragging carpets and bolts of fabric from one side of the building to another to stare. Which meant the entire business of the day was set back by several hours, and they missed a delivery to an important customer, who forgave them upon being invited to the impromptu engagement celebration at the Gardiner’s fine establishment on Gracechurch Street a few blocks away from the warehouse.

A very romantic story.

Georgiana would be resident in the Gardiners’ spare guest room for the time before the papers were written and signed, and the business was settled, and she was married to Mr. Peake at the nearby parish church at Gracechurch. The church was a big pretty building with the look of a Romanesque steepled church in the middle of crowded London.

An express had been sent that evening to Mr. Bingley and Jane to inform Georgiana’s friends in Hertfordshire of her marriage, and to beg Jane and Elizabeth to attend the wedding.

The trip took two days to arrange, as Elizabeth was to go with Mr. Bingley in his carriage, and Jane of course needed a period of time to have everything placed in preparation to take Bennet to the big city. London always was cloudy, drizzly, and a thick quilt of smoky fog from the hundreds of thousands of chimneys suffocated the city during the winter. At least there was less pestilence during the course of the winter.

Two hours past noon Bingley’s carriage entered the city. London. A million people — an entire million — rushing about. Tall buildings crowded and smashed together. Manicured lawns and well-watered trees. Poorly cleaned plaster blackened by soot. The crowded center, with handsome façades of marble and red brick, and crazily angled streets. Statues of men on horses, and men with guns. Parks with tall wrought iron fences to prevent the entry of those without permission. They entered the city from the east and drove along the Thames, past the white Tower of London, with the flag of Britain flapping proudly in the wind.

Then along Lower Thames Street. They passed the massive column of the two-hundred-foot-tall monument to the Great Fire of London, white and gleaming, with inscriptions in Latin around one side and bas relief scenes carved into another. One clear summer day when visiting, Elizabeth had paid the few pence to climb the stairs all the way to the top and been rewarded with the most astonishing view, which still did not allow her to see the entirety of London.

The carriage turned onto Gracechurch Street, and bankers in fancy suits ran in front of carriages as though they had no fear of being run over; aristocrats with long leggings calmly walked the streets, entering establishments they had business with; and tourists stood, gazing each way in anxiety, before cautiously crossing the roads and being nearly run over by screaming drivers for their slowness.

They trundled halfway down the street and pulled up to the handsome home Mr. Gardiner owned, and Elizabeth allowed her brother-in-law to help her down, while the footman knocked upon the door. He’d barely touched the knocker before it was opened, and Mrs. Gardiner and Georgiana spilled out of the house, and encouraged their servants to have the trunks quickly carried in.

Anne enthusiastically joined them, with several of Mrs. Gardiner’s children, all of whom jumped around happily, clinging to Aunt Lizzy and Aunt Jane and Uncle Bingley and then eagerly incorporating Bennet into their games. The young boy was quite social and happily followed along in their play. They were all pushed into the house by Mrs. Gardiner, to keep the young from catching their death of cold in the grey weather — not that Mrs. Gardiner worried; it would only be a frustration to nurse the children through a harmless illness when everyone ought to be full of celebration.

Jane and Bingley planned to go on to the fashionable outer borough two miles away where they had rented a house for the month, but the two were persuaded to send their carriage round to a nearby stables and yard to wait for them. They entered the house with Bennet. Everyone sat in the drawing room, and crackers and tea were provided. Georgiana glowed. Elizabeth wanted to talk to her in private, to ask about Mr. Darcy — she cared even though she had given up the right to concern herself with his well-being. But in this crowd it was only a chance for everyone to speak at once about joint topics.

Georgiana was made to repeat the story Mrs. Gardiner had given in her letter of how she had found Mr. Peake and told him she still wished to marry him, and Jane begged every detail, and they spent an hour in rapid conversation, by which time Mr. Gardiner was to arrive in just another hour or two from the offices with Mr. Peake — one of the servants had been sent to the office to tell them that they had arrived, and of course Jane and Bingley were convinced to stay for dinner, and then for the evening. It was decided they would go to a play a mile away at Haymarket Theatre.

A messenger was sent to the stables where the carriage had been sent, telling it to go without Jane and Bingley to the house they had taken so the carriage could be unpacked, and then the vehicle would return to wait for them to call later tonight. Mr. Gardiner arrived, and Mr. Peake and Georgiana snuck a kiss in the entry room, but Elizabeth saw them. They were like she and Darcy had been. Everyone laughed and they all were happy, and after dinner they watched As You Like It from a box with red velvet seats.

No opportunity to speak in private to Georgiana occurred.

Waking up now, Elizabeth decided to convince Georgiana to take a morning walk with her. She always enjoyed seeing the sights of the city during the first day or two in Town. Elizabeth went down to the breakfast room to wait for her friend, and she tried to read a book.

Georgiana entered the breakfast room in a simple day dress that made her bloom. She smiled upon seeing Elizabeth. “My dear Lizzy, I so desired to speak with you last night.”

“And I had the same desire. But we now can before the others breakfast. Will you walk with me? I wish to reacquaint myself with the city.”

“Of course. Of course. Towards St. Paul’s? I have spent most of my mornings walking in other directions, or taking the carriage to Hyde Park when the weather is kind.”

Elizabeth laughed. “That is not today.”

They both looked out the window. “It is not promising,” Georgiana said. “The more need to set out promptly, in case of rains.”

The two walked out arm in arm, bundled up in their winter coats so they could survive a mild drizzle and followed by the Gardiner’s footman.

“At last! At last!” Elizabeth clapped. “Alone with you!”

Georgiana grinned at Elizabeth’s enthusiasm. “I as well looked particularly forward to your conversation.”

“Yesterday was a good evening, still that endless talk, and then the theater, and then the children.”

“Do not forget that excellent late-night meal of melted cheese and toast.” Georgiana shuddered with pleasure. “Your aunt and uncle have such a baker. That bread—”

“It was an excellent night except we could not speak. And that gave it a lack. I rail not against fine company, excellent food and good entertainment often — though we shall never be sisters in church law, you are my sister in heart.”

“I…I feel that way as well.”

“Jane feels equally close — see how quick your call brought her to London. And so early in the year! We in general avoid Town at the beginning or end of the season when everyone descends upon the capital.”

Georgiana giggled as their footman blocked the street, stopping a carriage so they could safely cross the crowded street. There always was a special energy about London. Elizabeth would not wish to live here, but she loved to visit.

“I am so happy you shall be happy. And Mr. Peake, he glowed with delight! Such a happy end to a…to a situation that was not full of happiness. Last night, my pet, he and you were adorable to watch.”

“We were?” Georgiana clapped her hands together and bounced happily on her toes.

Elizabeth winked and tilted her head.

Georgiana grinned. She suddenly looked down and pressed her fingers together. “Did you…feel jealous? You looked hurt at times.”

Heavens! It still hurt. Why? She had ended it with Darcy, and he yet lived. And their marriage never could have been happy and calm.

“Oh! Forgive me — I should not have said anything.”

“I have, in the most, put my melancholy feelings away. I did, I must confess, blacken my windows, eat nothing but bread and water — not a great deal of either, I assure you — and lie somnolent in bed at first, composing sodden poetry.” Elizabeth laughed. “But such did not last long. I have too great a requirement for exercise and activity to be a proper heroine.”

“Lizzy — you… I do not want to see you—”

“I assure you, I am well. I am in the main as happy as I was before I had ever known such a man as your brother existed. Maudlin, depression, playing the tragic, sighing heroine. Not my nature — I confess a little jealousy, but—”

“My dear friend…” Georgiana unconsciously pulled and straightened a curled lock of hair. “If you blame me, I understand. I blame myself, and—”

“Heavens! The only person I blame in any manner is myself. Not even your brother — though he has faults sufficient to earn blame. A fool unknowing of herself. That was my case before I met your brother. I had entire confidence in my wisdom, in my control over my emotions, in myself. I could not know, in that untouched state that I would feel and such feeling would chase thought into a distant land far away and unreachable. I am, I hope, wiser.”

“You and Fitzwilliam would be happy still, if not for me and Mr. Peake. My happiness is the cause of your unhappiness, it eats at me, and…”

“Stop that.” Elizabeth pulled Georgiana to a halt next to the entrance of a shop whose sign proclaimed the presence of the finest silk and cotton stockings. The entire wall of the building across them was painted as a proclamation that the finest ales and wines could be consumed within. “Our differences were not your fault. There was a fissure betwixt us, such that we should never have entered our engagement. You did both Fitzwilliam and I a great favor by being the subject of a disagreement before we made oaths before God.”

Georgiana’s manner showed she did not agree. They continued forward until they reached the garden around St. Paul’s cathedral. The large square was surrounded with tightly packed three-story buildings, with the bottom floors of each given over to crowded shops and busy businesses. Elizabeth studied the bell towers of the cathedral. A drizzly rain had begun.

Elizabeth said, “I understand we are to have a large dinner with Peake tomorrow evening, at hired rooms in Guildhall? You are to be contaminated by mingling with your future husband’s — and my uncle’s — many acquaintances in trade.”

“Yes!” Georgiana nodded eagerly. “I am so eager to meet them all, and learn about what they do, and to see Mr. Peake amongst his friends and…and everything!”

“A good sort, most of them. I have met them. But you do not fear the contamination because they must work assiduously to earn a living by selling and buying?”

Georgiana tilted her head. She stuck her tongue out at Elizabeth.

The two walked into the cathedral for protection from the rain which had begun to quicken. The building was quiet and solemn, though a few other worshippers prayed before the altar, and several other pleasure lookers looked about as well. They admired the pristine white and gold decoration of the massive pillars supporting the structure. The pews and balustrades were made with fine woodwork. They walked to the small monument that had been erected where Christopher Wren, the famous architect who had rebuilt the cathedral after the fire, was interred.

“One day after our dinner, we intend to marry — Peake has nearly settled his business. It was done more quickly than we expected. And the settlement has been written up and signed.” Georgiana giggled. “Both our lawyers have been kept up quite late to earn their fees the past week.”

“You have protected your interests? Even with the best intentions, a man can gallop over the interests of a woman and—”

“Not at all! Mr. Peake is the kindest in this way.”

“Georgie, I know something of financial matters. Papa has talked my ear off about his boredom with them, so I might be bored as well — I understand you are putting some money into the partnership.”

“Half of my fortune will be invested into the company, with an associated ownership share attached to me by the settlement. But the other half is more than ample for us to live off should something go amiss with your uncle and Peake’s business. More than fifteen thousand, and the interest from that—”

“A sufficiency — that will not support the life you are used to. Not its scale, or all the little pleasures.”

“I am tired of that life!”

Georgiana’s shout echoed in the large space, and several of the other people around looked at them frowningly, including a stern middle-aged man in heavy embroidered clerical robes. Elizabeth thought he might be a bishop.

She giggled, a little self-consciously, and took blushing Georgiana’s hand. “I am glad to hear your passion. You should feel that way about your marriage.”

They wandered about the massive open space, admiring the artwork and the columns. They craned their heads up to look into the three-hundred-and-fifty-foot-high dome.

“Very big,” said Georgiana.

“Too large for my comfort,” replied Elizabeth. “I would not desire to live in London — though I enjoy visits.”

“I love the city. Though the country is calm and pleasant, I have always spent part of each year in London, and I shall happily be here the entirety of the year. Mr. Peake has engaged tidy lodgings two blocks from your uncle’s along East Cheap Street, we shall be snug — not taking more space than we must; we hope for more children, of course, and shall need to launch them creditably. A little frugality early shall establish habits which ensure that will be easy. But space enough for us both, and my maid, and an extra room we can squeeze you into when you visit. Promise you shall visit, though you normally stay with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner in Town. And beg your mother to visit as well.”

“You want Mama to visit?” Elizabeth laughed.  “She has risen in my estimation as well of late.”

“I always adored her. She was so kind to me from the first.”

“She has always been kind to you. I shall relay your invitation, and she will be delighted to make such a visit. And proud that you requested her.”

The two strolled along the nave towards the massive banded wooden doors, past the rows of intricately carved pews made from dark woods. “We have talked around the subject sufficiently.” Elizabeth smiled weakly. “What of your brother? How does he do?”

“He…he…” Georgiana shook her head. “I hardly know what to say.”

They stepped outside. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still overcast, and the rain had washed the thick London fog. Their footman joined them again. Elizabeth took Georgiana’s arm to lead her towards the Thames to walk along a footpath that looked out over the river between the docksides.

The two were quiet; the streets were not.

After a short walk the road took them to a leafy prospect with a wrought iron railing they could lean upon and watch the Thames flow below. The London Bridge, piled high with houses, stood east of them, and the mighty sluggish river flowed its slow way, with skiffs and canoes and ships sailing in each direction, and crowds of people, and the beauty of the packed buildings along the waterline.

“Fitzwilliam was foolish. He pushed you — I know! He told me the story. How could he be so stupid as to make you that angry!” Georgiana hopped with anger. Then she deflated, and stared sadly at the ships. “I wish…”

A bird hopped from branch to branch on the bare tree above them. Elizabeth sighed. The bird looked at them and cocked its red head and chirped.

“I keep hoping he will come.” Georgiana did not look up. “When carriages unexpectedly stop outside, I imagine it is him following me to admit he cares for me more than family pride. I will sob if he is not present at the wedding.”

“Oh dear girl! I counseled you to act according to your own best lights. Will you be happy without Fitzwilliam’s blessing? There is no hurry. Hurry is something I never would encourage in matters matrimonial.”

“So long. We waited, and then another month. I delay no longer.”

The lark flew away and the two walked back through wet crowded streets to the Gardiner’s ample townhouse. A stiff breeze blew, knocking their curls astray, blowing their bonnets askew and chilling them through their coats.

“If he comes back, promise to listen to him, and let him apologize.” Georgiana looked pleadingly at Elizabeth with wide eager eyes. She seized Elizabeth’s hands and squeezed them. “You two were perfect for each other.”

“We were not. Not at all. We argued at every turn; we shared neither values nor philosophy. A dreadful match.”

“You were. Perfect together.”

“Georgie…”

“You were. You are. I want you for my sister and I want you to be Fitzwilliam’s wife. I still hope for it.”

Give up hope.

Instead of a harsh reply, Elizabeth shrugged. Georgiana wanted what Georgiana wanted. It was not likely to happen.

“Promise you will listen to him when he returns.”

“I promise, that, in the utterly unlikely case your haughty brother condescends to speak to me about our past connection, I promise that I will sincerely listen to any apology he makes, and that I will then ask my reason if an intimate connection betwixt us would have any likelihood of success. But my reason will speak nay once again.”

They reentered the house, and after their coats were hung up and their walking shoes removed, the housekeeper left the two alone again. Georgiana looked at Elizabeth with hurt soulful eyes.

“I do not desire reconciliation. I ended matters between us for excellent reasons. Fitzwilliam cannot wish a reconciliation either. Not now that he has had chance for his passions to cool — and further now that he has further example of my pernicious influence—”

“He loves you. He cried…”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. She did not wish to recall their happiness.

“Lizzy, love is the most important thing in the world. You love each other still.”

“Love is not the only important matter.”

“It is, when it is true love, and when—”

“You and Mr. Peake are in a different situation than me and Fitzwilliam. And I would kindly ask you to leave off discussing this matter.”

Georgiana cried. She smiled through her tears. “There is hope. If you do not wish to talk about your love, you must still feel much. You must love him still, as he loves you still.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Why did she think that Georgiana was qualified to make her own decisions about marriage?

“I…Lizzy…”

“Georgie, if you only intend to marry because you think Fitzwilliam shall join us, and then marry me — I consider you my sister already.”

“That is not it.”

“Darcy is a proud man; one who will not support a woman in her foolishness. We are best off without him.”

“Are you very angry at him? You should be. He can be infuriating — you feel that worse than I. But anger is not…your love matters more.”

“I shouldn't have had to do it.”

“What?”

Elizabeth slumped. She would not have been able to throw off the ring in a calm manner.

The poesy ring was stored safely in the bottom of her trunk awaiting the proper time to return it to Fitzwilliam. One of Bingley’s housemaids had found it the day after, rolled in a corner under the tiled stove. Some part of her hoped what Georgiana had hoped, and like a fool she had brought the ring with her to London, instead of leaving it stagnant in the bottom her jewelry case in Longbourn.

Stuffing the love ring into an envelope and mailing his ring by post — too cold.

Georgiana shook her head. “You both will realize the mistake you are making.”

“It would be irrational. I have determined to never let my passions misguide me again.” They stood next to the drawing room door, but Elizabeth stopped Georgiana from opening it. “I am happy for you, Georgie. I am happy that you shall marry. You shall be happy. But I…I confess the truth you have guessed: though I pretend otherwise, I am not wholly happy at present.”

Elizabeth left Georgiana by the drawing room door and walked to her own room. She felt Fitzwilliam’s memory, like a physical presence. He could kiss her so well. They had been happy.

Elizabeth stared out her window. Carriages rushed past. Men wore top hats and workmen’s caps. Women wore bonnets and fashionable small hats. The clouds had begun to weep once more, and a hawk circled high in the mournful sky.

Damned old maid.

We can discuss nothing. You have no voice.

She had not made a mistake.