Chapter 1 #2
At that thought, Darcy’s composure almost broke. She was too young, too innocent. He could not even imagine Georgiana as a wife yet, let alone bearing the children of that heartless blackguard…
Fitzwilliam stopped pacing long enough to pound a fist on the desk. “It is intolerable! We must do something, and yet what can be done?”
Darcy forced himself to think. There must be something they could do, some way to cut the legs out from under Wickham’s victory.
Suddenly, a ray of hope dawned. Darcy grasped at it desperately. “We have one chance,” he told Fitzwilliam, his voice low and urgent. “Wickham has left himself vulnerable by eloping with Georgiana. No settlements were made. This may just work to our advantage.”
“Yes!” Fitzwilliam replied eagerly. “Of course, you are right. Wickham has played into our hands there.”
Darcy nodded. “My father made his intentions clear, but even now, the money is not in Georgiana’s name, nor yet legally the property of her husband. That is how we will put a leash on Wickham. A monthly stipend, perhaps?”
“Yes, that is what we must do,” Fitzwilliam agreed. “And perhaps we might even put restrictions on what he can do with the money as well?”
“Exactly my thoughts, cousin.” Darcy hurriedly stuffed the letter and the rest of the stack into a leather carrying case and started for the door. “I know you have to get back to your post, but I will write as soon as I know what is happening.”
“If you and Georgiana need me, I will stay,” Fitzwilliam told him. Darcy looked at his cousin in surprise, but the colonel was obviously in deadly earnest.
“I thank you, but no,” Darcy told him. Leaving the army in the middle of a war was no small matter.
Yes, his cousin might arrange leave, or even buy out, but only the most urgent necessity could justify such tactics.
The present case did not fit. There was little Fitzwilliam could do for Georgiana that Darcy could not do himself.
“However, you might notify my lawyers as you pass through London. I will leave tomorrow, as I had intended. Tonight, I will try to form something of a plan.”
“Good,” Fitzwilliam told him. “What have you thought as yet?”
“Not half so much as I would like,” Darcy said.
“If we had the lawyers put the money into a trust, it would protect that blackguard from getting his hands on the lump sum of Georgiana’s inheritance.
” He rubbed his chin as he thought. “If we could give them a monthly allowance, rather than giving him access to all of it, it would prevent him from running through all of Georgiana’s money.
” A shudder ran through his body. He put his hands in his jacket pockets, suddenly chilled despite the warmth of the summer day.
“Yes, that should hold him for a while. There is no telling what he will do when he gets the news from the lawyers. At least this will give us time to figure out how we can protect Georgiana.”
Darcy nodded. “And if she returns to England, we must try to help her in any way we can.” He doubted very much that Wickham would allow them to see Georgiana. But someday, somehow, he must try to talk some sense into her.
“I will go at once then,” Fitzwilliam said, already heading toward the door. “You continue working on a plan. I shall write when I know something from the lawyers.”
“Thank you, cousin. I do not know what I would have done if I had received such news alone,” he said.
They shook hands firmly, then he saw Fitzwilliam off at the front door as soon as his horse could be saddled and his one small bag packed.
As a military man, Fitzwilliam was used to travelling light and at a moment’s notice.
Whatever good might be accomplished by having the family lawyers informed as soon as possible, Fitzwilliam would see done.
When his cousin was out of sight, Darcy returned to the house and closed himself into his study, telling the staff he was not to be disturbed. He must think — he must find some plan — and yet just when reason and clarity of mind were most important, they seemed almost beyond his grasp.
What had started as a day filled with hope and excitement was now clouded over with grief.
Georgiana, poor foolish girl! Even still, he could hardly believe that his sweet, innocent sister had thrown herself into the power of Wickham.
A moment of folly, of saying yes when she ought to have said no, and she had changed the course of her life forever.
“This is your own fault,” Darcy whispered to himself.
If only he had not been taken in by the untrustworthy Mrs Younge.
If only he had not allowed Georgiana to go to Ramsgate without him.
If only he had kept a closer eye on Wickham and ensured that he could be nowhere near Georgiana.
Georgiana must actually believe herself in love with him — a man she would soon learn that she could neither trust nor respect.
There was little doubt that Wickham did not respect her.
Guilt settled over him like a stone, crushing his chest under the grief of having failed his only sister.
Closing his eyes, he could see her sweet little face as clear as day, looking up at him as if he knew everything there was to know.
If only she were still that little child, still trusting in him and asking for guidance and wisdom.
She had always been able to talk to him about anything and everything.
Why had she given him no warning of this disaster in her previous letter?
Darcy searched for the letter and, having found it, saw that it had been dated just a week before, the day after Georgiana and Mrs Younge had attended a concert in Ramsgate.
Georgiana had been unimpressed, particularly by the harpist. He skimmed the letter, but could not discern any clues as to what they had been planning.
Yet the affair must have been well underway.
It seemed impossible: Darcy would have said it was not in Georgiana’s nature to lie to him.
And yet, he would never have dreamed that it was in her nature to run away from home, to elope with a man who was a coward and a scoundrel. He would have sworn Georgiana was a clever and prudent girl, that she was perfectly safe in Ramsgate with Mrs Younge.
Darcy got up from his desk chair and paced like a trapped animal, raking his hands through his hair and growling under his breath. “You fool!”
What would his aunts say? They would be furious to know that he had let Georgiana out of his sight.
They would be worried about the reputation of the family, of course.
But they both loved Georgiana and would be more worried about her welfare.
At least the countess would. His other aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, would have much more to say.
She would most certainly be more judgmental than any of the rest of the family.
Suddenly exhausted, he stopped his pacing and sank back into the chair. He felt exhausted, as if all the life was draining away from him at the knowledge that his beloved sister was lost to him forever.
Darcy felt the crushing weight of guilty failure pressing down on him.
His father had always been proud of him, had told him he was a good son and worthy heir.
Before he died, he had handed over the responsibility of protecting Georgiana and Pemberley, the two great treasures of his life, without the slightest hesitation.
His father had been certain Darcy was up to the task.
How utterly wrong he had been!