Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
It was not Elizabeth’s nature to sit still and be unhappy, so while Mr Darcy was assisting the colonel and Lord Matlock at Haddon Court, she set about keeping herself occupied.
Whenever Georgiana was resting, she took the opportunity to write to her family, although it was hard to know what to say.
Once she finished her correspondence, she drew anything that caught her eye, determined not to become lost to the sadness that had descended over the household.
Pemberley seemed bereft in Mr Darcy’s absence, or at least that was Elizabeth’s perception, for she could not help feeling that everyone was missing his quiet, steady presence.
Where possible, she coaxed Georgiana from the house and into the gardens.
These little promenades did much to improve the colour in her friend’s cheeks, and Elizabeth ensured they became part of their daily routine.
She could not forget how earnestly Mr Darcy had asked for her to be a comfort to his sister.
I shall endeavour to be worthy of the trust he has placed in me.
One morning, a week after Mr Darcy’s departure, they went out for one such walk. Arms linked, Elizabeth told her friend of the letter she had received from Jane.
They had taken several turns about the hedge garden when Georgiana whispered, “Do you miss him?”
Her question took Elizabeth by surprise. “Whom are you talking of?”
“My cousin, of course. Lady Acaster told me that you think him very agreeable. He asks after you in his letters.”
Elizabeth paused; she thought often of the colonel, her sympathy lying with him and his family, but she did not worry about him alone. “All of your family are in my prayers at this desperately sad time,” she said truthfully. “And I have been concerned about you, my dearest.”
Georgiana’s hand dropped from Elizabeth’s arm. Lips quivering, she whispered, “You should not trouble yourself about me. I-I am not worth it.”
Elizabeth gasped. “How could you say such a thing?”
“I have been told it.” Her voice was faint, as though her very words cost her something to say aloud. “There was someone—a man, whom I believed I loved, but I was mistaken in his regard for me. He told me that my only worth was my dowry and that without it I was nothing at all to him.”
Elizabeth drew her friend into an embrace. “Do not believe the words of such a heartless creature! Does Mr Darcy know of this?”
Georgiana’s head nodded against Elizabeth’s shoulder before she lifted her face, her eyes brimming with tears.
“He knows of this man’s deception but not of every conversation that passed between us.
I-I am not allowed to speak of it to anyone.
I promised my brother and Richard most faithfully—it is our family’s greatest shame. ”
Outrage sparked in Elizabeth. “Shame is a powerful emotion. It is a prison that binds us to the past and prevents us from freely living our lives. I do not think you should be ashamed for loving someone. It is this man who should be sorry for causing you such unspeakable distress with his lies and cruelty.”
Georgiana’s lip trembled. “I should never have mentioned it. Please do not tell my brother. He does not like to talk about painful events, and I cannot bear it when he looks at me with such silent condemnation.”
Gathering her friend’s hands in her clasp, Elizabeth said resolutely, “Your brother adores you. He is not naturally communicative, but his behaviour towards you suggests that he is anything but ashamed.”
“Do you think so?”
Elizabeth pictured Mr Darcy, and how his eyes would anxiously follow his sister’s every movement.
“I think he worries for you, and that can make him appear severe and unprepossessing. Consider how he has remained at your side for these many months. In my opinion, that is the action of a man who is devoted to his sister.”
Nodding faintly, Georgiana gazed into the distance. “Perhaps you are correct. He has looked after me ever since—”
She could not finish, and Elizabeth squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“You must never doubt how dearly you are loved.” A tear tumbled down Georgiana’s cheek, and with her other hand, Elizabeth brushed it away.
“You do not have to give me the particulars, but know that you can always speak to me of how you are feeling. Together we shall find a way out of this melancholy.”
Admiration shone in Georgiana’s eyes. Without warning, she flung her arms around Elizabeth, her shoulders trembling. “How I wish that one day we might be family! I shall be sure to tell my cousin of your great kindness to me.”
Elizabeth tightened her grip. “Colonel Fitzwilliam has no bearing on our friendship.” Georgiana muttered a protest, but Elizabeth would not let her finish, hoping her friend could hear the conviction in her words.
“You must believe me when I say that I value you for your own sake, not for the benefit of anyone else. I shall use every power at my disposal to convince you that you are loved for your own generous, sweet-hearted self.” She loosened her embrace and said with feeling, “Now, tell me honestly—is this poor excuse for a man the reason why you no longer play the pianoforte?”
Georgiana dabbed away a tear with a handkerchief. “Every song is wrapped up in a memory that reminds me of him. Music was my greatest love, and now it is my torment.”
“Well, that will be the first piece of your soul we shall reclaim from this scoundrel.” Elizabeth slipped her arm through Georgiana’s. “And I know just the thing that will help.”