Chapter 11 #2
“Clubs, with one real weapon between them. You train her into acquiescence. Highwaymen, George Wickham, and yourself alike. You did not help her protect herself.”
“I never thought he would stoop so low to kidnap her.”
“I cannot think why. You have always known him to be a conniving wolf amongst the lambs. Georgiana is as ladies are taught to be, passive. Knowing Wickham an untrustworthy, dangerous man, she sent for me. She knew I would not hesitate to defend her by any means necessary. Damn it, Darcy, she is also like a daughter to me. You commanded his silence. Threatened him with nothing, instilling no fear of reprisal.”
“That is unfair, Cousin.”
“How long ago could you have put him in debtor’s prison?
‘Til he could persuade some old friend to pay his debt? Until he felt the consequence of one’s reputation, which he had garnered for himself?
You knew he was harming women and did nothing.
Your relationship with him is one of disfavor and devotion in turns.
Why would he not take the prize of your sister, knowing you would capitulate to his every whim? ”
“Enough. You have made your point, Richard.” Darcy looked down and away, feeling the heightened color of shame staining his cheeks.
“The point is, we love you, you stubborn oaf. Neither of us wants to know a life without you in it. That is why she sent for me.”
When Fitzwilliam rested a hand on his shoulder, Darcy felt all the weight Atlas had suffered under bearing on him.
His cousin was correct, as was his sister.
His demand for Wickham’s silence had meant nothing, and Fitzwilliam and his sister recognized such.
Indeed, at this first opportunity, Wickham attempted again to abduct Georgiana, and against her will.
He nodded once when he felt Fitzwilliam squeeze his shoulder, acknowledging the support of his cousin, though Darcy knew he had erred in judgment.
“Damn, but it is good to see you,” Darcy said gruffly. “I would tell you not to put your life in danger again when at war, but I shall let Ana, Anne, and your mother take you to task over it. Then you might think twice the next time.”
“You bring up an excellent argument. Retreat may be the better part of valor today,” Fitzwilliam jested, lightening the conversation. “I suspect the bastard has debts here that need to be paid. Excluding those, what is the total of his vowels, Cousin?”
“More than three thousand pounds. I do not count the three thousand I gave him in lieu of the living.”
“True.”
“There is some relief in knowing it is the last time I must pay them, that he can never again blacken the Darcy name. And I must add my sentiments to those of Miss Lucas. I, too, am grateful you gave Ana the means to protect herself. I always believed I could protect her from anything, yet here I am proven wrong again. Miss Lucas mentioned her appreciation twice and made me cognizant that I had not added my own. I regret I did not know of your lessons, but it proves how often she is alone for the whole of a day, even if I return from duties on the estate in the evenings.”
“She often travels alone, is often at home alone, and went on holiday alone with a companion who did not intend to consider her safety. She has known trials that few young ladies suffer. You have allowed her to do too much on her own. During university, I understood the reasoning, though I could not appreciate it. I said as much during those years. I could no longer countenance the thought of her being unprotected from highwaymen and worse.”
“I now recognize the wisdom of it and thank Providence it is not too late. Moreover, I admit I am taking great enjoyment in her company. I was a fool, caught on the word ‘guardian.’ I only understood this when, on our journey here, Ana said how much she likes conversing with her brother.”
“I am gladdened you recognize she is maturing into a thoughtful and caring young woman. I am away for months at a time and longer, so I cannot help but see it. You leave her, at times for months together, yet always see her as a girl still in the schoolroom.”
“I wished her to enjoy her childhood, but I did not make certain it was enjoyable. One filled with study and expectations to uphold the Darcy name while sequestering her from all I feared might harm her. I am mending my ways. Miss Elizabeth has promised to guide me when Ana asks which color ribbon I think is more becoming.”
Darcy’s lips turned up when his cousin’s mirth filled the room. Fitzwilliam well knew he dreaded upsetting Georgiana by not having the correct opinion on ribbons and lace.
“Darce, there is something I must tell you. I intended to keep my silence on the subject, but I require your assistance,” Fitzwilliam said, glancing at the door. Darcy followed his gaze and noticed that his cousin only continued after determining they were alone and sequestered.
“Whatever I can do, you know I will. Never in all these years have you asked anything of me. It is I who seeks your time and assistance. My requests have been both great and small. I am pleased to have a chance to be of service.”
“Drain it.” Fitzwilliam thrust a whiskey at Darcy. “Drink up, Cousin.” He then added another two fingers to their glasses.
“No matter what it is, I do not need to be senseless to agree,” Darcy said, not partaking of the second glass his cousin poured.
“I must speak of Anne.”
“I know I upset our aunt with my assertion that I didn’t want to marry Anne. Why do you scoff? You know our aunt had great expectations of us marrying.”
“It will be nothing compared with what is certain to come.”
“Then, tell me. How can I assist her, you, or both?” Darcy reacted to the consternation in his cousin’s expression. “Come, Richard, I have never seen you even briefly discomposed. I grow alarmed.”
Richard downed his drink in one and said, “Darcy, I…”
Dear reader, the subject of this conversation between cousins will be revealed. But as poor Darcy requires time to recall himself, I, too, shall allow them privacy.