Chapter 11 #2
At last he concluded that the truth, spoken with care, was the only path remaining to him.
"I have been uncertain whether the matter was mine to mention. Yet I did not encourage your acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth without reason, and I believe you have shown sufficient judgement to be entrusted with that reason."
Whatever curiosity she felt, it was tempered by trust.
"Whatever it is," she said quietly, "you would not tell me unless you believed it necessary. I know that."
Darcy looked at his sister standing in the pale afternoon light and thought of their mother. He thought of promises made beside a sickbed, of years spent attempting to fulfil them, and of how often he had felt unequal to the task.
"I believe Miss Elizabeth Bennet does not hear well." There was no other way to say it. Anything softer would only weaken the meaning he wished to convey.
Georgiana stared at him in evident disbelief. Then understanding began to dawn. Not merely of what he had said, but of why he had been so determined that she should know Miss Elizabeth. For several moments she remained silent.
"I cannot tell you the extent of it," he continued. "I do not know it myself. But I have observed her over the course of several weeks, and I am persuaded of it. She positions herself carefully in company. She reads lips. She adapts to every conversation with a skill that speaks of long practice."
He paused, as though giving her time to come to terms with the revelation. "And she does it so well that almost no one appears conscious of it." The next words seemed to require greater care. "She reminded me of Mama."
Georgiana looked up sharply.
"Not in appearance. In spirit." His voice remained steady.
"Mama never permitted her hearing to alter the quality of her life.
She adapted when she must and carried on without apology.
You were too young to remember all of it, but I watched her for years.
I watched the care with which she arranged herself in company.
I watched her observe before she spoke. I watched her continue to live exactly as she pleased despite what others believed she ought to be capable of. "
He drew a slow breath. "Miss Elizabeth possesses something of that same quality."
Georgiana was silent.
"She enters a room entirely herself. She does not seek approval. She does not shape her opinions to suit those around her. She simply lives as she chooses and appears perfectly content in doing so."
A thoughtful look settled upon Georgiana's face.
"She does," she said softly.
"What Wickham told you was wrong," Darcy leaned closer. "I cannot promise what the future may hold. No one can. But I can tell you this. A person's happiness is not determined by a single trial, nor is their worth diminished by it."
He watched her closely, waiting until he saw that she truly understood. "Miss Elizabeth is proof enough of that."
Georgiana lowered her eyes. "Wickham made it sound inevitable."
"I know."
"He made it sound as though one difficulty would alter everything."
Darcy's expression softened. "Wickham has always possessed a talent for persuading others of the worst."
She smiled faintly at that.
"Does she know you know of it?" Georgiana said after a moment.
"Miss Elizabeth?"
Georgiana nodded.
"No. But Miss Elizabeth notices a great deal. I rather think very little escapes her observation." Darcy said.
"And I am not supposed to let her know I know either?"
"No." His answer came immediately. "Not directly, not indirectly, and not by accident. Whatever she chooses to share of herself must remain entirely her own choice."
"I shall do my best."
Darcy nodded in approval.
They resumed walking together, neither of them speaking.
"I did not do enough," Darcy broke the silence that felt like forever.
Georgiana turned towards him.
"Fitzwilliam—"
"No. Allow me." He kept his eyes upon the path.
"When Mama died, I was too young to understand all that I ought to have learned from her.
Afterwards, I did not know how to give you the example she would have provided.
Since Ramsgate, I have thought often of how best to help you overcome what you fear most." He heaved a sigh.
"I have not always known how. But I believe Miss Elizabeth's example may accomplish more than anything I could say. "
Georgiana considered this briefly. "I already like her very much."
"I know." Darcy replied.
"I liked her before you told me any of this."
"I know that too."
Georgiana flicked her brow. "It does not alter my opinion of her."
"No," he said. "I did not think it would."
They shared a brief laugh, the sort that often arose between siblings when a conversation had grown too solemn for comfort.
At length Georgiana spoke again. "I think she is very brave."
"So do I." Darcy smiled slightly.
The house came into view beyond the trees. As they approached it, she tightened her hand briefly upon his arm.
"Thank you, Fitzwilliam."
He covered her hand with his own for a moment. "You need never thank me for that."
They continued towards Netherfield together, and as the quiet afternoon settled around them, Darcy felt, for the first time since Ramsgate, that he had done something which might truly prove of lasting benefit.