Chapter III
Nothing can be so mortifying as to confess fault to a much younger sister. When that sister had always looked up to her older brother with something akin to hero worship, the task became all that much more painful.
Fitzwilliam Darcy had not set out to bare his soul.
Georgiana, he knew, struggled with her own demons, though Darcy knew she had improved much since the previous summer when Wickham had tried to take her from him.
She would never be an open young woman, for much like her brother, it was not in her nature to be gregarious, or even comfortable in company.
However, seeing the growth in her maturity and faced with her questions about his behavior since his return from Kent, Darcy told her more than he had ever intended to reveal.
“Well?” asked Darcy when Georgiana remained silent for several moments after he had finished speaking about the events at Rosings, coupled with the more salient parts of his stay in Hertfordshire the previous autumn. “What do you think?”
Georgiana sighed and offered him a slight smile. “Do you wish to know exactly what I think? I should not wish to speak out of turn.”
Taken aback, Darcy could not help but blurt: “You suppose I do not wish to hear your honest opinion?”
“I do not know,” said Georgiana with a frown. “Since Papa died, you have often been like a father to me; daughters do not speak severely to their sires.”
Concerned for the implication in her words though he was, Darcy addressed their relationship first. “While I have sometimes taken that role out of necessity, I am not your father, Georgiana. You are now sixteen and becoming a lady in your own right, and I prefer our relationship reflected that fact. I hope you would speak your mind and not worry about offending me. I shall not take offense.”
Relief flooded his sister, showing on her face in the grateful smile she gave him. It struck Darcy that perhaps she had wished to change the dynamic between them but had not known how to go about it. Perhaps this was for the best.
“Then I shall tell you,” said she. “This woman must be worthy of your esteem since you have offered it without reservation.”
“Not completely without reservation,” confessed Darcy ruefully. “I suppressed my attraction and departed Hertfordshire, intending to never see her again.”
“I suppose you must be correct,” replied Georgiana. His sister sighed and fixed him with a wan smile. “I must confess that I have long been accustomed to thinking of you as a man without fault.”
It was so like what Miss Elizabeth had said of him at Netherfield that Darcy held back a start only by the slimmest of margins. “That is not possible for anyone, Georgiana.”
“No, it is not.” Georgiana’s smile grew wider. “But you do not account for the feelings of a much younger sister for an excellent brother many years her senior. My initial estimation of your recent doings with respect to Miss Elizabeth was that your behavior was not without reproach.”
Having already determined this for himself, Darcy motioned her to continue.
“I do not accuse you of callous disregard for her feelings, Brother, but you approached her with every confidence of success in your suit.”
“I did,” acknowledged Darcy. “But I shall assert that anyone in my position would have done the same. Miss Elizabeth’s position in society is not greater than the daughter of a minor country gentleman with little to recommend her, connections to trade and a country parson, and no fortune of note.”
Georgiana looked at him as if he had disappointed her.
“And do you not always lament Miss Bingley’s haughtiness and tendency to look down on all around with her with contempt?
What of your disinclination for the company of most of society?
If Miss Elizabeth is not part of that set and is worthy of your attention, I would think such considerations would not be of much importance to you.
“While I cannot say for certain, not having observed you at all times,” said Georgiana, her voice laced with compassion, “it seems to me that you have not done enough to please a woman worthy of you. Given that fact, it is no surprise she rejected your proposal.”
There it was. The explanation he had been seeking these weeks was no mystery to his sister, a girl who depended on him rather than the reverse.
That Georgiana saw the situation more clearly than Darcy did himself was a matter of some pride.
The greater part of his consideration was for the mess he had made of his acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth.
“Thank you for speaking so openly,” said Darcy, though distracted. “I shall consider it further.”
“I know you will.” Georgiana’s eyes were shining with admiration, a sight with which he was not unaccustomed. “Once you acknowledge your culpability, you take action to correct what you have done wrong. I only hope you do so quickly, for this Miss Elizabeth Bennet sounds like the perfect sister.”
While Darcy deliberated long and hard about the truths to which his sister had opened his eyes, he never once doubted the accuracy of her observation.
There were some extenuating circumstances in his behavior in the autumn, concerned as he had been for Georgiana’s wellbeing.
But all the worry in the world did not excuse his ungentlemanly behavior, both toward the woman he professed to love and the community she called home.
Now that he recognized it, Darcy could not but look back on his conduct with abhorrence.
In addition, his subsequent actions toward Miss Elizabeth in Kent had been little better, for he had considered his happiness, taking no thought for hers.
Looking back on it, he now understood he had never allowed the notion that she might refuse him to penetrate his thoughts of what it would be like to have her for a wife.
Even worse, a man did not enumerate the deficiencies of a woman’s situation while proposing to her.
What woman would not take offense at such incivility?
Two facts became evident to Darcy after he had considered the situation for several days.
The first was that if he believed Miss Elizabeth’s assertions, and he did not question them, he owed Bingley an apology.
It appeared his assessment of Miss Bennet’s feelings for his friend had been completely in error.
Bingley had never returned to the happy, jovial man he was before they left Hertfordshire, indicating his friend pined for Miss Bennet.
The trick would be to confess with delicacy, for he did not wish to lose Bingley’s friendship, nor did he wish to put Miss Bennet in an untenable position.
Even after more than a month without her company, Darcy’s attachment to Miss Elizabeth remained as strong as it ever had been, despite the rancor with which they had parted at Hunsford.
The knowledge of this, coupled with the letter he had given her explaining his actions and the hope she might now think better of him, led him to thoughts that the situation might not be unsalvageable.
Miss Elizabeth was not as Darcy had once boasted of himself—she did not possess resentment so implacable as to prevent her from forgiving the slights of others.
If he acted to reunite Bingley and her sister, would she forgive him for that offense?
This presupposed she believed him on the score of George Wickham.
As a sensible woman, Darcy did not suppose she would dismiss his account out of hand.
Regardless, there was nothing to be done but to put himself in her company again and assess whether he could earn her regard. While he did not yet know how to accomplish it, a determination to do just that burned in his breast.
––––––––
The opportunity to put the first part of his plan into action—to confess to Bingley of his mistake—presented itself not long before the end of the season.
Darcy had been unusually unsociable that year.
His confession to Georgiana had led to a new understanding between them and a new intimacy, such that Darcy spent much more time with her than in society.
This was agreeable to Darcy, but it resulted in a distance from his friends, and Bingley in particular.
Darcy used this time to good advantage, considering how he might go about making Bingley aware of certain facts of which he yet remained ignorant.
However much he might have wished to make his confession at once, matters did not proceed as he might have designed.
An evening in the company of his friend provided the opportunity, though Miss Bingley’s presence was a deterrent to any resolution Darcy might have harbored to speak privately with his friend.
Little though he wished to give the woman any encouragement, it was on his mind to invite the Bingleys to Pemberley this summer.
A brief conversation with Miss Bingley, however, altered his plans.
“I wish to thank you again, Mr. Darcy, for your support in separating my brother from that fortune-hunting upstart in Hertfordshire.”
It was always thus with Miss Bingley, mused Darcy as he paid only the barest hint of attention to her words; as Darcy could count on her remaining oblivious to his distraction, he often allowed his attention to wander.
Now that she felt no need to appear to be on good terms with Miss Bennet, she felt no compunction at all about abusing her, showing her previous expressions of friendship to be nothing more than a sham.
“We are well rid of that place. Now that we have detached him, my brother will not wish to return.”
“If he wishes to realize a profit from the lease,” said Darcy, “he should pay some attention to it.”