Chapter 11 #2
“Since seeing Pemberley in 2026, I think more of my marrying than employing a new steward. I see all that has survived and know that I must have married—or will marry? Or, I will have married?” She laughed.
“It is hard to talk about matters when you are in one time and talking of living in another.”
He chuckled. “The verb tenses get difficult.”
Georgiana’s smile fell. “I have to marry and have a child to set all this in motion.”
Darcy winced in self-reproach. “I always hoped you would simply live your own life as you chose, irrespective of me.”
“I guess I still need my older brother’s guidance.”
He opened his mouth to object, but she went on. “I never came here to gain an advantage, though. Unless you want to settle a debate for Mr Willers and me about steam engines.”
She grinned, and Darcy laughed. “I won’t tell you, but what did you decide?”
“That they are worth investing in. I think they could move passengers someday, but Mr Willers thinks only coal mines will use them and I should invest elsewhere. I pulled money out of the four per cents to put into the steam engines. I would like to tell Mr Willers I was right before he—” Her voice cracked. “—before he leaves.”
“Georgiana, why do you think he is—”
“Do you think a gentleman would marry me?” she interrupted in a high-pitched voice.
“Would he live on an estate he cannot pass on to his descendants? Where I will refuse to live at his ancestral estate and will expect to stay at Pemberley? I spent five minutes with Elizabeth and Sandra and I know it is possible in 2026, but what about when I live? A woman’s place is so different from what it is now.
Could any man marry a woman on such terms as I would set? ”
“Would you fall in love with such a man who would not?” he countered.
“Oh, I am afraid I could,” she cried. “I nearly made a foolish choice and lost everything.”
For a moment he thought his sister meant a dalliance since he left, but then he realised she meant eloping with Wickham.
“You were fifteen! It was a lifetime ago. And he was a scheming seducer nearly twice your age. Now you are thirty, and with more experience and restraint. You are a woman of intelligence. You would not now lose your peace of mind for an unworthy man.” This was going nowhere.
“If he asks you, you have my permission to say yes.”
The colour leeched from her cheeks and lips. “I—there is no one whose proposals I am considering.”
“But you have someone on your mind,” he insisted. “And you might have to propose to him yourself.”
She actually recoiled. “I am far too shy, and a woman, and—”
“Then Mr Willers will leave to work for Lord Gordon because he thinks you do not love him.”
Complete shock washed over her as her mouth hung agape before she burst into tears.
Darcy put an arm around her and held her in compassionate silence while she cried her eyes out. She laid against his shoulder, ruining his shirt, until she was done. “Do you think he might love me, too?” She sniffled.
“I don’t know, but that’s what Elizabeth believes.”
“If it is true, if he feels anything genuine for me, why would he leave?”
“‘Hope deferred maketh the heart sick,’” Darcy quoted in a soft voice.
“Elizabeth thinks he feels the disparity of your circumstances are too great and that you would never condescend to return his affections. He is afraid to ask, or he has too much pride to ask if he believes you would never accept. Be vulnerable and speak first—defy convention—and tell him you want him to marry you.”
She sat up and looked him in the eye. “I cannot be vulnerable,” she said tightly.
“I am a woman in a precarious seat of power. I am a landowner, but only by the words printed on a long-term lease agreement. I am the sister of a man good society thinks is an eccentric romantic who abandoned everything for love. I am the keeper of a remarkable secret that the wrong people could exploit. My position, my power, is fragile. I cannot afford to be vulnerable.”
“Then you will lose him,” he said plainly. “But do you really think Mr Willers would threaten you or humiliate you even if he does not love you in return? Because the man I remember, the one I hired and the one I trusted, would never do that to any woman even if he felt nothing for her.”
Her shoulders sank with a heavy sigh as she dashed away her tears. “Maybe I am afraid to hear for certain that he does not love me. He sees the gulf between us as too wide; I know he does. We, we had a moment…”
He did not want to hear about any moments involving his sister. “That is a conversation for Elizabeth, not me. Unless I need to go back in time and call out Mr Willers? I am rather old to be engaging in duels. I have not fired so much as a hunting rifle in years.”
She shook her head. “It was nothing inappropriate. And he drew back before anything happened. So, you see, he has not demonstrated an enduring attachment to me.”
An idea came to him. “How long ago was this moment?”
“This spring before he said he was leaving. So, you see, he does not want me.”
“Or he loves you and forgot himself, but he sees no encouragement from you.” He gave her a pointed look. “Give him a reason to hope and you might not have to part ways.”
“But even if he loves me,” she said in a trembling voice, “I must have married a gentleman or nobility for Pemberley to be standing like it is today.”
He lifted up his eyes at her ingrained fears, feeling all the frustrating disparity between then and now.
The difference between the time he was born to and the time he lived now was remarkably vast. He did not miss the rigid division of rank based solely on who your father was and if he owned land.
“You have loved Philip Willers for a long time. That is why you haven’t married yet, isn’t it? Unless, do you care that he is the second son of a clergyman, a solicitor and a steward? He has no connections to rank, and any fortune he has is because he wisely invested what you paid him.”
She drew back in affront, as he suspected she would. “Not at all. He is the best man I have ever known.” Looking away, she added quietly, “But others will judge me.”
“They will,” he agreed. “But if you were with the man of your choice, you could have no cause to repine.” He smiled as he thought of the last thirteen extraordinarily happy years with Elizabeth.
“You already have notoriety because of how I left. I cannot imagine an unequal marriage will further harm your position or your children’s prospects. ”
Georgiana had an expectant look, and he gaped at her. “Did you mean I might judge you for not marrying a gentleman?” he cried in a tone of surprise.
“I still doubt he feels anything for me but… Would it be satisfactory for Pemberley if I married a man of inferior rank and connections?” she whispered.
Did she really want his permission to marry a little beneath her, at least according to the values they grew up with?
She did not feel Mr Willers lacked the connections or wealth to be worthy of her; she only doubted he returned her feelings.
If Mr Willers did return them, why did his blessing matter?
Georgiana watched him like her next breath hung on his word.
Darcy looked at his sister with a mixture of disbelief and affection.
His little sister traversed two hundred years, left her home for three months in a fit of heartache, hoping her older brother would approve of the man she wanted to marry.
She might have needed reassurance she could really manage Pemberley without Mr Willers, but part of her actually needed his consent and encouragement.
He still had a place in his old life, and he hated that.
This century was where he belonged, and his sister needed the confidence to live her own life without turning to him.
It hurt to think he had a role after all of these years, and his heart revolted at being pulled back.
He never wanted anything to turn his attention from what he had here and now.
But taking care of his family had always been his superior duty, and that, he now realised, would forever include his sister.
“You are the one to judge what is best for Pemberley in your time,” he said. “I gave up that right thirteen years ago.” Before she could be disheartened, he said, “But any man who loves and respects you, who provides for your child, is a man I would be proud to call my brother.”
“Really?” she breathed.
“If you marry, be it to someone to whom you will be as beloved and important as you are to me. And a man who cannot respect your abilities and your position at Pemberley is not the man to spend your life with. You have my blessing to marry whomever you wish.”
She did not cry again, but relief flooded her face. Sighing happily as her shoulders dropped, she threw her arms around him and thanked him.