SEVENTEEN
Longbourn
Elizabeth
There was only one church in Meryton. A small Church of England parish that served both the village and several of the surrounding communities. The Bennets attended it with their neighbours, as they always had. Since their arrival, the Netherfield party had done the same on occasion.
Elizabeth hoped she would not encounter Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst that morning, for obvious reasons.
If Caroline Bingley knew about her hearing problem, she had almost certainly told her sister.
Or perhaps Darcy had told them both. Elizabeth doubted it.
From the few occasions they had all been together and her single visit to Netherfield, it had been plain enough that Caroline Bingley admired Mr. Darcy.
She placed herself beside him whenever possible, attempted to complete his thoughts, and smiled at him with a transparency that would have been almost pitiable had it not been so deliberate.
It seemed far more likely that something had passed between them in confidence than Mr. Darcy telling both of them.
Or so Elizabeth had been telling herself for the past four days, because the alternative was that Miss Bingley had overheard something she ought not to have heard, and that possibility raised questions Elizabeth was not yet prepared to examine.
Much to her relief, none of the Netherfield party attended church that morning.
On the walk home, Elizabeth found herself dwelling upon an entirely different disappointment.
She missed Georgiana. The realization surprised her.
As angry as she remained with Darcy, she could not persuade herself that Georgiana had been complicit in any of it. Miss Bingley had said Darcy acted for his sister's sake. Not with her. And Darcy himself had admitted as much upon Oakham Mount.
More than that, Elizabeth found herself returning repeatedly to something he had said during those final moments before she walked away.
…Nearly ruined Georgiana.
The phrase had lingered.
He had spoken of Wickham as a man who had tormented his family. A man who had nearly ruined his sister.
Elizabeth knew too little of Wickham to understand what that meant. Lydia, who had been most acquainted with him before his arrest, could offer nothing beyond assurances that he had been handsome and charming and apparently not the man anyone had believed him to be.
What had he done to the Darcys?
More importantly, what had happened to Georgiana?
Darcy's choice of words suggested something so serious that Elizabeth could not bring herself to imagine what Georgiana might have endured.
Elizabeth went about the remainder of her day, though not without turning those questions over in her mind more times than she cared to admit.
That afternoon she sat in the smaller drawing room at the back of the house, only half observing Lydia and Kitty's game of cards, when Hill entered and announced a visitor.
Elizabeth had not heard the arrival of a carriage.
She looked up in surprise when Hill announced Miss Darcy.
A few moments later Georgiana was shown into the room. Mrs. Annesley accompanied her and exchanged greetings with the ladies before accepting Mrs. Bennet's invitation to join her and Jane in the larger drawing room.
Georgiana remained where she was.
There was something in her expression that immediately caught Elizabeth's attention.
She rose at once.
"Miss Darcy."
"Miss Bennet." She bowed her head briefly.
For a moment they simply looked at one another.
Then Georgiana offered a small smile that failed to conceal her nervousness, and Elizabeth felt something tighten unexpectedly in her chest.
Whatever had passed between herself and Darcy, Georgiana had played no part in it.
"Please sit down."
Georgiana thanked her and accepted the nearest chair. Elizabeth soon call for tea which she poured for them both. Georgiana accepted hers politely and then appeared to forget it altogether.
The silence that followed was not entirely comfortable.
Lydia looked from Elizabeth to Georgiana. Kitty did the same.
After several moments Lydia gathered the cards together. "Come along, Kitty. We can finish this elsewhere."
To Elizabeth's surprise, Kitty rose without argument. The door closed behind them.
Elizabeth waited, rubbing her thumb against the warm porcelain of her teacup and resolving not to begin the conversation herself.
She had no idea where such a conversation ought to start.
Nor did she know precisely why Georgiana had come, though the slight tremor in her hands and the uncertainty in her expression suggested she was struggling to find the courage for whatever had brought her to Longbourn.
Georgiana stared into her tea for several moments before finally breaking the silence.
"Are you angry with me?"
The question caught Elizabeth entirely off guard.
"What?"
Georgiana looked up. "Are you angry with me?"
"No." The answer came immediately.
Relief softened Georgiana's features.
"No," Elizabeth repeated more gently. "Never with you."
Georgiana lowered her eyes. "I am glad."
Elizabeth had not realised until that moment how much the girl had feared the answer.
Now she knew.
She waited for Georgiana to continue, but when the silence stretched on, she took pity on her. Whatever had brought her to Longbourn, it was clearly costing her a great deal of courage.
Elizabeth set down her cup. "You have come to speak about your brother?"
A faint flush rose in Georgiana's cheeks. "Yes."
Elizabeth waited.
"He does not know I am here." That admission appeared to cost her something. "If he knew, he would tell me this was not my place."
"And yet you came?"
Georgiana nodded. "Because I do not think you know everything."
Elizabeth's attention sharpened immediately.
Georgiana clasped her hands together.
"He has not been himself for two days now. I pressed him and he told me everything that happened on Oakham Mount." Georgiana fiddled with her hands. "I know Fitzwilliam was wrong not to tell you. He knows it too. But there is a reason he noticed."
Elizabeth looked away.
She was certain she already knew the reason.
His mother had been deaf. Georgiana feared she might one day be the same.
Miss Bingley had said as much. What did that change?
Did it excuse observing her without her knowledge? Did it excuse sharing her secret with Caroline Bingley? Did it excuse allowing her to mistake his interest for admiration?
Elizabeth did not think so.
For several moments Georgiana stared at her hand, as if to gather courage.
Then she said quietly, "Miss Elizabeth, my brother mentioned that he told you something about Wickham, but I don’t think he said everything."
The name immediately brought her last conversation with Darcy on Oakham Mount to mind. Elizabeth shifted in her chair as Georgiana drew breath to continue.
Georgiana lowered her gaze. “Wickham grew up with us in Derbyshire. Growing up, I did not even know he was not my brother. My father treated him exactly as he treated Fitzwilliam.” She paused and sighed.
“My mother died when I was four, and I cannot remember her hearing very much, although Fitzwilliam told me she was not born that way.
Her hearing had deteriorated over the years.
So all I had were my father, Fitzwilliam, and Wickham. "
Elizabeth moved to the edge of her chair. So Wickham had grown up with the Darcys? How then had the meeting she witnessed between Darcy and Wickham become so hostile? What could have happened?
“When my father died, he left a living to Wickham in his will. Wickham rejected it, and Fitzwilliam paid him its equivalent in money, which he squandered. He returned two years later demanding the living after all. My brother refused because the living, which was a parsonage, had already been given to another.” Her eyes flashed briefly as though she remembered something unpleasant.
“It was after this that Wickham swore himself an enemy of Fitzwilliam.”
So that was it? Had two men who had once been raised almost as brothers become enemies over money alone?
Elizabeth had not finished the thought before Georgiana resumed speaking.
“I did not know any of this until last summer, when Fitzwilliam told me everything.” Georgiana looked away, and Elizabeth thought she heard her voice falter.
“Wickham had made certain I understood he was not my brother from the time I was thirteen.
I did not know any better. Over the years, he convinced me that Fitzwilliam was controlling, that he did not wish me to have any independence after becoming my guardian upon Papa's death. "
Elizabeth froze in her chair.
"It took nearly two years for him to make me believe it entirely, and soon I considered myself in love with him. I was fifteen years old. He was charming and attentive and very skilled at making people believe whatever he wished them to believe." A sad smile touched her lips. "Including me."
She picked up her cup of lukewarm tea, her hand tightening around the handle.
"He persuaded me to agree to an elopement." She said it simply, without embellishment, though saying it clearly cost her a great deal.
Elizabeth stared. She did not even know how to react.
"My brother arrived in Ramsgate before it could happen. Wickham fled," Georgiana continued. "But before he left, he had spent months convincing me of something. He told me I would lose my hearing one day. Like my mother."
Elizabeth felt her breath catch.
"He said it was inevitable. He said it was a curse upon the women of our family. He said no gentleman would willingly choose a wife who might become deaf and burdensome." Her voice remained steady, though only just. "Then he offered himself as the exception."
The room seemed suddenly quieter.
"He wanted me frightened enough to depend upon him."
"And you believed him."
It was not a question. It was an absent-minded remark that escaped Elizabeth before she realised she had spoken.
"Entirely." Georgiana nodded.
Elizabeth released a heavy sigh.
For the first time, she understood. Not everything. But enough.
She thought of every careful question Darcy had asked. Every observation. Every occasion on which he had positioned himself without drawing attention to it.
"Mr. Darcy was trying to help you from the damage Mr. Wickham caused."
"Yes." Georgiana's answer came without hesitation. "For nearly a year."
Georgiana lowered her eyes again. It was not shame. It was more akin to embarrassment on her brother's behalf.
"He tried everything. Logic. Reassurance. Examples from books. Examples from our mother's life. Nothing worked because fear is not reasonable." A faint smile appeared. "Then he met you."
Elizabeth looked away.
"He saw someone living the future I feared." Georgiana's voice softened. "Someone intelligent and respected and entirely herself. Someone who had built a life without shame or apology."
The words landed with unexpected force.
"You helped me, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth felt something inside her soften.
"You probably do not know that you did. But you did," Georgiana said quietly.
Silence settled between them.
At last Georgiana continued.
"I know he was wrong. I know Fitzwilliam should have told you the truth from the beginning. I know he hurt you." She hesitated briefly. "But I also know he never meant to. He had promised me that he would tell you just days before he saw you with Wickham."
Elizabeth looked at her. The sincerity of it all unsettled her more than she could account for.
For a long time, both ladies sat in silence.
Then Georgiana drew a breath.
"I am not asking you to forgive him. I only hoped..." She stopped and tried again. "I hoped you would hear everything before deciding."
Elizabeth shifted back in her chair. Her heart was doing something she had not given it permission to do.
The afternoon light had begun to fade beyond the windows.
She thought of everything. Of Wickham. Of Darcy's parents. Of a frightened girl convinced she would one day become unlovable. Of a brother who had spent a year trying to undo a wound someone else had inflicted.
And of Darcy, who had stood upon Oakham Mount and admitted he had been wrong.
Against her will, the anger she had been holding onto diminished considerably.
One question still lingered, however.
How did Miss Bingley know?
She thought it unfair to ask Georgiana. Not because she believed she would know, Elizabeth was not certain she did, but because she did not think it was her question to answer.
Georgiana had come against her brother's wishes to apologise on his behalf. To press her further would be stretching that kindness unnecessarily.
"Yes," Elizabeth said at last. "If he wishes to explain himself, I will listen."
The relief that crossed Georgiana's face was immediate. It was not triumph, but relief clear enough to read upon her countenance. As though she too had been carrying a burden these past days that had now eased.
They spoke briefly of other things after that. Elizabeth told her that she had met Wickham for the first time on the very day of the encounter Darcy had described. Georgiana even finished the tea she had forgotten she was holding.
After a while Mrs. Annesley came to check on the ladies and announced it was time to leave. Georgiana rose and hugged Elizabeth.
"Elizabeth?" she said as they drew apart.
"Yes?"
A faint smile touched her lips.
"I have missed you."
The simple honesty of it struck Elizabeth harder than anything else that afternoon.
She squeezed Georgiana's hand. "And I have missed you too."
Georgiana smiled properly then.
Elizabeth walked her guests to the carriage that conveyed them and stood watching until it disappeared beyond the Longbourn lane.
Only then did she turn back towards the house.
She had spent four days convincing herself that she understood exactly what Mr. Darcy had done and exactly how she ought to feel about it.
For the first time since Lucas Lodge, she was no longer certain of either.