Chapter 32
Some time passed before Georgiana calmed herself, and Elizabeth left her side only when the girl, exhausted by her tears and raw emotions, fell asleep.
With some eagerness, she returned to her room and knocked on her husband’s door.
He opened it and invited her in. Although she had been in his room several times, her steps were still hesitant, and her heart still raced when she entered.
“How is she?” he enquired quietly as they both sat on the edge of the bed, facing each other.
“She is resting now. I left only after she fell asleep. Lady Matlock visited, and I know she means well, but she did not help.”
“I can imagine as much… Both my aunts wish the best for us but have a peculiar way of showing it. Thankfully, Lady Catherine is not in London, or else I would have to keep her away from Georgiana by force.”
“So is it all over? The funeral?”
“All over… Richard and I turned his rooms upside down, but we found no papers, no letters that interested me, except a few from Georgiana and my father. Nothing of consequence. And some threating notes from his creditors, of whom there is a very long list.”
“Perhaps there is nothing more to be found. Let us hope so.”
“Thank you for taking such good care of Georgiana. She seems to find comfort in you. May I ask, why was she crying when I entered? I know she is reluctant to talk to me.”
“She is…struggling to find peace. She blames herself for all the trouble she has caused, and she fears for your feelings. She will need time to find some tranquillity and to forgive herself.”
“That ne’er-do-well hurt her so deeply, and I do not know how to help her as she barely speaks to me… I saw the two of you together — she allows you to comfort her but not me… I failed her. I failed to protect her, to understand her… Thank God that we have you, Elizabeth…”
As they sat together, gazing at each other, a heartfelt impulse induced Elizabeth to take his hands in hers and then entwine their fingers.
“I think you both need a better understanding of each other. You are more alike than you think. You both fret about each other more than yourselves. Both of you feel you failed the other, and both of you are concerned about the consequences of that dreadful marriage. Nobody is to blame but that wretched man. And…I believe Mrs Younge should be held responsible too. From Georgiana’s brief confession, that woman had a great share of blame in that horrible scheme.
His death should not dismiss her guilt.”
“I know. She deserves to go to prison. How else can I punish the woman? But what should I charge her with? And such an action would only enflame the scandal caused by Georgiana’s elopement and her husband’s sudden death. How could I protect her?”
Their hands were still entwined, and Elizabeth shivered as his fingers gently brushed over hers.
“Perhaps another means of punishment would be more appropriate for that woman,” she whispered. “She betrayed and deceived the very person she was employed to protect. There are no excuses and no forgiveness for such disloyalty.”
“I always suspected Mrs Younge was as guilty as Wickham, but I had no proof. When confronted, she denied it. She asserted that Georgiana was in love with Wickham and had insisted on eloping with him. And I spent so little time with my sister after her elopement, I spoke so rarely with her, that I could not gather enough evidence to refute that woman’s allegation. ”
“You have evidence enough,” Elizabeth said angrily. “I would gladly join you to confront that woman and her shameless claims.”
“Did…um…did Georgiana tell you…was she… Did Wickham hurt her?” he whispered the dreadful question, clearly daring not to ask more directly and hoping Elizabeth understood.
“I am not sure… She did not mention any physical harm…just deception… They pushed her into agreeing to marry, using falsehoods. She believed she had no other choice, that refusing to wed would cause you and the family more harm. She was a frightened girl played by two masters of deception.”
Darcy breathed deeply, then stood and began pacing the room, rubbing his forehead.
“I have been such an idiot! Such a presumptuous fool! Richard and I both, but I am more to blame than he. All these months I presumed she was stubborn, that she had insisted on her decision because she fancied herself in love with that scoundrel. Richard and I both assumed she had chosen Wickham over me, that she was absurd and irrational for refusing to return home. Who knows how he threatened her to stay with him until I paid him! I am so happy he is dead. God forgive me for saying so! If not, I would have killed him with my bare hands! And my poor Georgiana — how much she must have suffered, while even we, her closest family, blamed her!”
“She did not choose him because she was in love with him.”
His turmoil changed his countenance, lowered his shoulders as if burdened by a weight greater than that of Atlas, and his pacing intensified.
Elizabeth rose and daringly moved towards him, placing her arms around his waist. He paused, seemingly surprised, looked down at her, then gently closed his arms around her too.
She sighed and leant her head on his chest, listening to his heart beating.
“Such torment will not help you or Georgiana,” she whispered. “The worst has passed. Now we must repair the damage left behind. In Georgiana’s heart and yours,” she said, placing her palm against his chest.
“Thank you,” he said, holding her even tighter.
He lay his cheek on top of her head and inhaled deeply.
She felt all his turmoil, grief, and suffering, and yet, his closeness, his strong body, his deep remorse and vulnerability, his scent, the warmth of his embrace, all brought her a sense of fulfilment.
“You are so dear to me, Elizabeth… Holding you gives me so much peace and comfort. I have so many reasons to be grateful to you and to thank you.”
“Please stop mentioning thanks and gratitude,” she whispered back, wondering whether he, too, could feel her heart pounding. “You have used those words too many times. Much more than needed. You are dear to me too.”
The last words slipped through her lips, and she held her breath as she waited for his response. Had he heard her?
He pushed her away a few inches, looking at her.
“Truly?” he asked with an incredulous frown.
“Why would you doubt it? Should I believe your words?”
“Of course!”
“Then why would you distrust mine?”
“I apologise. It is just that… I do not doubt you. I just pray for it to be true. I know you entered into this marriage out of necessity rather than choice, and all the time I feared you might regret it and that…”
He paused and averted his eyes briefly.
“What?”
“That you might wish to leave since our arrangement allowed it.”
“Have I ever done or said anything that induced you to assume as much?” she asked.
They were still embraced, inches apart, and it felt strange to argue under such circumstances.
“Does the present situation, this very moment, indicate I might want to leave?” she insisted.
“No…and I do not want you to leave my arms, Elizabeth. I feel you belong here.”
“I am glad we are in agreement, Mr Darcy,” she said, wondering why she was so warm.
Her eyes were locked with his, his arms around her, her heart beating as strongly as his, then slowly, his head moved towards her.
Without knowing what she was doing, her eyes closed, and her lips parted; she felt his breath upon her face, then heard his voice whispering her name and his lips brushing over hers…
“Mrs Darcy?” The maid’s voice from her chamber, through the open door, startled them, and she tried to free herself from his embrace, with little success.
“Mrs Darcy is here,” he responded, then he smiled and released his hold on her. Still, she could not move, too dizzy and weak to stand without his support. She needed another moment to gain her composure and clear her throat.
“Is there something wrong?” she managed to answer.
“Oh no. Miss Bennet has returned, and she was looking for you. And Mr Bingley is here, asking for the master. Forgive me. I shall go now,” the maid mumbled.
“Tell my sister I shall be with her in a moment,” Elizabeth finally answered.
She looked at her husband again; the smile was still in the corner of his lips, and his dark eyes revealed a strange intensity she had never seen before.
“I have to go,” she said. He nodded, took her hands, and briefly placed a kiss on each.
“Allow me to escort you. I wish to greet your sister and Bingley, then I shall try to spend a few moments with Georgiana, if she will have me.”
They walked downstairs together, arm in arm. Neither spoke, but Elizabeth needed no words to understand that from that moment on, things would not be the same between her and her husband.
Jane and Mr Bingley were both joyful, flushed, and smiling, relating all the details of their day spent with the Bennet family.
“Mama is all anticipation to finally meet Mr Darcy,” Jane said. “Lydia and Kitty were so happy. They purchased reticules and bonnets of the latest fashion, and they ordered gowns, which should be ready before they return to Longbourn.”
Jane kept chatting, more voluble than usual, while Mr Bingley watched her admiringly. Later on, Colonel Fitzwilliam called too, and both gentlemen were invited to stay for dinner. Elizabeth asked Georgiana whether she would join them, but the girl declined.
The evening passed in pleasant conversation, carried mostly by the colonel and Bingley, with some involvement from Jane. Mr Darcy was as quiet as usual; he made few contributions to the discussion but cast repeated glances at Elizabeth.