Chapter 23 #2
There was just one thing holding him back.
“So you won’t have as much money,” Georgiana said now, as if that were the only consideration. “He can’t break the entail
on Pemberley, so you’ll have to wait until he dies to come back, which is unfortunate—”
“Georgie!”
“But you have the inheritance from Mother’s estate, don’t you? You wouldn’t be destitute.”
“No,” Darcy agreed. Their mother had brought her own money into her marriage with their father, and it had passed to them
both upon her death, although they’d never had cause to spend it before now. “But if Father were to disown me, it wouldn’t
be the money that concerns me. It’s you. Father would do everything in his power to keep you from me.”
She gave him a pitying look. “He couldn’t keep us apart.”
“Yes, Georgie, he could.” Darcy kept his voice even. “He could forbid everyone around you from letting us meet or correspond, and then marry you off to some ogre of a man, and then your husband would keep me away.”
“I’d run away rather than let that happen.”
“I’m sure you would,” he said, putting an arm around Georgiana’s shoulders. She leaned into him. “And just think about what
sort of holy hell he’d raise if you did.”
“Holy hell,” Georgiana said. “I like that.”
He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Don’t repeat that in front of him.”
“Perhaps I’ll raise holy hell if he tries to prevent you from marrying Lizzie,” she said tartly.
Darcy was certain she would—but less certain that his sister would prevail in such a battle. She was strong, but Darcy knew
his father better. He was . . .
Ruthless.
“Don’t worry about me,” Darcy said. “Besides, Father isn’t the only thing keeping me and Lizzie from marriage. We—”
“Really?” Georgiana spun around. “Darcy, do you mean—”
“We aren’t secretly engaged, if that’s what you’re thinking! But rather . . . she’ll let me know when she is ready.”
“Ready for what? Why wouldn’t she want to marry you?”
The indignation in her voice was gratifying. “She does, I think. But if she does, she’ll have to give up many freedoms to
be with me—her own money, her chance to own her property or business. Lizzie’s independent. She won’t sign that away lightly—and
neither should you, for that matter.”
“When have I had a chance to meet any eligible bachelors?” Georgiana asked peevishly.
“I’m just saying,” Darcy said. “Don’t rush things. Lizzie and I have no intention of parting ways. I told her I’d be willing
to wait until she’s ready.”
“And when will that be?”
“I don’t know! But you have to promise me not to meddle, Georgie. Leave it to me.”
“I would, except I don’t know that I trust Father not to interfere before it’s too late.”
Darcy didn’t want to admit it, but he had a similar fear. What if his father intimidated Lizzie into not wanting to marry
him at all? It wasn’t just the disapproval over the marriage—the elder Mr. Darcy was well-respected in the legal field. If
he didn’t want Lizzie practicing, he could ruin Lizzie’s career by calling in a few favors.
“Try not to worry,” he told her. “For now, let’s just focus on the problems at hand.”
“Well, I think you ought to ask her to marry you,” Georgiana said, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Do it before he arrives,
and then marry her quickly, before he can put a stop to it. You could propose right here—it’s the perfect spot, don’t you
agree?”
“Georgie, you’re meddling,” he said, but he couldn’t help the teasing lilt in his voice.
“Fine,” she said, heaving a sigh.
In the distance, they could hear the sound of a woman’s voice calling out. Darcy turned toward the door. “What is that?”
“Georg-i-a-NA!” came the voice.
“Ugh, Mrs. Watts,” Georgiana said, pulling away from her brother. “I thought she’d be laid up until tomorrow with that headache—they
always last days. I better go see what she wants. Are you coming?”
“I think I’ll stay out here a little longer.” He wanted to linger in this place and try not to think about his troubles for
a little while.
“All right,” Georgiana said, and she stood up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Don’t stay out too long.”
“Good night, Georgiana,” he said, watching his sister turn to go.
“Good night, Brother,” she said. She paused at the door and said, “Fitz?”
He turned back to her. No one but she called him that, and even that, rarely. “Yes?”
“I won’t meddle, but I do think that you’re making things more difficult than they need to be. You and Lizzie love each other,
do you not?”
He nodded.
“Then be happy. Be together.”
In the distance, he heard Mrs. Watts call out, “Georgiana! Where are you?”
“Thank you, Georgie,” he said.
She left Darcy in the flickering candlelight.
He wished he could see their circumstances as clearly as Georgiana.
He wished it was as easy as love conquering any and all obstacles.
But the truth was, marriage would create problems for them both, and he wouldn’t pressure her into it simply because they loved each other.
He wanted to know that Lizzie was ready to embrace that next step.
Behind him, Darcy heard the soft scuffing of light footsteps descending the steps into the grotto. He sighed and began to
turn around. “Have you come back to harangue me some more, or are—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before a rush of movement overwhelmed him, followed by splitting pain, and then
everything went black.