Chapter 17 #2
Darcy gave a frustrated sigh. “No, I suppose not. There are worse things that could happen than for a husband to be in love with his wife. But there is little reason to believe she feels the same. I know only too well that Elizabeth dreamed of marrying for love. Our wedding, which some ladies might have viewed as such a triumph, was a bitter disappointment for her. It is ironic, is it not? My father pressed me over and over again not to choose a bride because of outward appearance but for her fortune and connections. Elizabeth has neither wealth nor position in society. However, her very amiable qualities are more important than anything else my father would have had me look for in a wife.”
“It was bound to happen, Darcy, especially when there are fainting wives and husbands who carry them about.”
Darcy looked at his cousin reproachfully.
“Yes, I was not in the house for five minutes before hearing whispers of it. Nor did it come as a surprise, for Anne mentioned the incident in her last letter to me. I believe she has quite the romantic streak, for being so plain.”
“She is not plain. She is ill,” Darcy came to their cousin’s defence. He did not much care for criticising poor Anne in absentia, and still less for the idea that he and Elizabeth were the talk of the staff.
“Do not look so serious, Darcy. I was only teasing you. You are right in one respect, you know. There are much worse fates than being in love with one’s wife.
” He shook his head. “I only hope I might find that same affection in the poor unfortunate woman who shall be obligated to put up with me all the rest of her days.”
“The woman who marries you will be very fortunate indeed,” Darcy told him sincerely. The woman who would one day wed his cousin would not come into much money, for Fitzwilliam was the second son, but she would gain a husband of unparalleled bravery and loyalty.
“Well, no matter. My time has not come yet, although I hear Mama is looking steadfastly for a woman who would not mind being the wife of a Colonel in His Majesty’s service, and a second son at that.
” His cousin rose from the chair and went to lean against the mantelpiece.
“I am happy for you, Darcy. You deserve to have some happiness after all that has transpired over the last months.”
Darcy nodded, deeply touched. “I hope that you have even half of my good luck in finding a bride. If you do, you will be a fortunate man indeed.”
Fitzwilliam sighed and returned to his chair.
“I could hardly believe it when you wrote and informed me that Georgiana and Wickham would spend the holidays with us. And you are more cheerful than I would have expected, with such visitors arriving. Perhaps Mrs Darcy has affected your mood so greatly that it has made their impending visit less difficult a strain?”
Darcy nodded, finding the thought surprising, but with a ring of truth to it.
“I suppose she has been a soothing influence in that regard. When the incident first occurred, I was unsure if I could ever allow her entry into this house, much less her fiend of a husband. Elizabeth helped me to see that the only way for either Georgiana or me to find peace is to find a way forward through forgiveness. Whether she sees the errors of her ways or not, whether she forgives me for my failure or not, I am glad could at least arrange some protection for Georgiana. There is no telling what would have happened if we had not been able to put some restrictions on Wickham. The severest consequences might have resulted. Either to her fortune, or to Georgiana herself.”
“Yes, from what the lawyers say, he was quite upset. I wish I could have been there to see it,” Fitzwilliam said with a sad shake of his head. “I am impressed that Mrs Darcy was the one to suggest the visit. She seems to want what is best for the family, not simply manoeuvring for her own comfort.”
“I agree. That was quite apparent when she subjected herself to lessons with Aunt Catherine,” Darcy said wryly.
“And thus far, her judgment has been correct every time. I believe Aunt Catherine has been softening toward her, as she had hoped. And when I sent a letter to Georgiana at her urging, inviting them for Christmas, I was uncertain what sort of reply to expect. After all, it had been months since our last communication, and Georgiana must know of my disapproval. But I was surprised by how quickly I received a reply.”
Fitzwilliam nodded. “When are they due to arrive?”
“The tenth of December, perhaps a day sooner or later, depending on the roads,” Darcy replied. “So you will have a few days to settle in before the storm hits.”
“Do you think it will be so bad?” Fitzwilliam asked.
“I think our dealings with Wickham will be tense, given what has happened. But he is a master chameleon. I am sure he will employ his charm in handling the visit, no doubt to draw more funds out of us. We must be firm with him, and with Georgiana, if the matter arises.”
“Oh, I have no doubt that it will.”
∞∞∞
Time passed quickly after Fitzwilliam’s arrival.
He seemed to grow accustomed to Elizabeth’s presence, and even to admire her after a brief acquaintance, just as Darcy himself had done.
Once his suspicion of her had abated, Fitzwilliam rediscovered his customary charm — and his customary appreciation for the wit and conversation of a pretty lady.
It was a welcome discovery, but no surprise, to find them firm friends before a week had passed.
As their other guests’ arrival drew near, Darcy felt his apprehension growing.
It had been fully six months since he had last seen Georgiana.
He hardly knew what would be worse: to find her coarsened and conniving, fully Wickham’s creature, or to find his sister suffering and fully repenting what she had done, and himself unable to help her.
The day of their arrival came at last, chill and bright.
Darcy, Elizabeth, and Fitzwilliam waited for them in the foyer after being alerted that the carriage was making its way up the long drive.
To Darcy’s considerable relief, Lady Catherine had decided not to greet them as a mark of her disfavour, and had demanded that Anne do likewise.
Disrespectful of his house and his decision as her choice was, Darcy could not wish it otherwise.
What was already a difficult meeting might have become all but impossible if Lady Catherine had played a part in it.
Nervous and despising himself for being so, he smoothed his coat down for what must have been the hundredth time. Elizabeth laid a gentle hand on his arm, and he grasped her hand, folding it into the crook of his arm. “All will be well,” she whispered.
Darcy let out a long breath. She could have no idea what her presence did to soothe his nerves. To greet his wayward sister and the man who had carried her off would have been all but impossible, had he not had Elizabeth by his side.
“Thank you,” he whispered in return.
Then the footman opened the door, and Georgiana walked in, arm in arm with George Wickham.
To his surprise and relief, she looked much the same as she had the day he had seen her off for Ramsgate with Mrs Younge.
Georgiana looked well, her hair dressed neatly if simply, and her outfit well-suited to the weather and occasion: she was dressed in a blue gown he had bought for her last winter.
Her smile was warm, if a little hesitant.
She let go of her husband’s arm and stepped forward to meet him. “Hello, brother.”
He brought Elizabeth with him as he stepped forward to greet her. “Hello, Georgiana. You look well.”
“Thank you,” she said, glancing curiously at Elizabeth.
“Allow me to introduce you,” Darcy said hurriedly.
“Elizabeth, this is my sister, Georgiana Wickham.” Saying her married name was jolting, but unavoidable.
Elizabeth’s hand tightened ever so slightly on his arm, imperceptible to anyone else.
Simple as the gesture was, it grounded him, making it possible to go on.
The next words, at least, were rather easier to say. “And this is my wife, Elizabeth Darcy. Formerly Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Mrs Wickham,” Elizabeth said warmly. “I have four sisters at home, you know. I look forward to getting to know my fifth.”
“I shall be very glad to have a sister,” Georgiana said, a little shyly.
Wickham cleared his throat. “Will you not introduce me to your lovely bride — Brother?”
At hearing that word from him and being forced to think of all its implications, Darcy nearly lost his self-control.
It took several moments and a considerable effort of will before he could bring himself to answer.
“Yes, naturally,” Darcy agreed. His voice, at least, was steady.
“Elizabeth, allow me to present George Wickham. Wickham, my wife, Elizabeth Darcy.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr Wickham,” Elizabeth said at once, smoothing over the awkwardness of the moment. “Let us all come through to the southern parlour for tea.”
Georgiana did not seem to notice just how awkward the meeting was between him and Wickham, but Elizabeth certainly had. They walked into the parlour, trailing after the ladies. Darcy motioned for Wickham to go ahead of him and Fitzwilliam.
“She is very quick, your wife,” Fitzwilliam whispered.
“Worth her weight in gold,” Darcy agreed. He was unsure what he would have done had he been left to his own devices, but he suspected the meeting would have gone rather poorly. A yelling match could have ensued, and even fisticuffs were not entirely out of the question.
Wickham turned as they joined the ladies in the sitting area. “I had no idea you had any plans of matrimony, Darcy,” he said, his face a pleasant mask.
Darcy gritted his teeth. After everything, he must now make conversation with the scoundrel as though nothing at all was the matter. “Yes, well, it happened suddenly.”
Elizabeth sent him a knowing glance and broke into the conversation, to his considerable relief. “How was your trip? We are so glad the roads did not impede your coming to us for the holidays. It is so important to have family close by during these special times.”
Georgiana beamed at her. “I could not agree more, Mrs Darcy.”
“Please, you must call me Elizabeth. We are sisters now, after all,” Elizabeth said warmly.
She rang for tea, and while they were waiting, she kept the conversation in safe waters, discussing their house in London and the uncommonly good weather.
Soon, Wickham had moved over to the settee and was speaking charmingly to Elizabeth.
Darcy drew in a deep breath, recognising it as the ideal opportunity to take Georgiana aside.
Elizabeth had already shown herself adept at crossing conversational swords, and Wickham would not wish to show his true self to her in any case.
He need not feel too guilty at leaving her to handle his nemesis.
Georgiana steadied her teacup and saucer with expert balance, moving over to the window so they could have a semblance of privacy.
“Thank you for inviting us here,” she said diffidently.
Darcy winced inwardly to see her so shy.
It felt as though she were a guest in the house, as though it had not been her home all her life.
“Of course,” Darcy replied. It hurt to see Georgiana so hesitant.
But he supposed he had done that to himself.
He was the one who had refused to write to her for all those months.
“I must confess that Elizabeth had most to do with the invitation. She believes it is time we worked out our differences and started acting like a family again.”
“I am certainly glad she suggested it. I am grateful that you reached out, and that you have forgiven me.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I have missed you terribly the last few months. Nothing was the same.”
Darcy thought for a moment to tell her that there was nothing to forgive, but the words stuck in his throat. There was only too much to forgive, on both sides. He would not begin their reunion with an untruth.
He gave her the truth instead. “I am glad you are here, Georgiana,” Darcy said gently. “Very glad indeed. I missed you terribly as well.” As he did, he looked up and saw Elizabeth smiling at them.
Darcy smiled back. He would have to tell her later how very grateful he was for her insistence that he make things right with Georgiana — who was, after all, his one and only sister, whom he loved with all his heart.