Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
E lizabeth slept very little that night. There was too much to think about, and she was anxious for Darcy and Georgiana both. She knew he had been careful in how he described Mr Wickham’s misdeeds, and if the man was half as dishonourable as she suspected, she would be forced to acknowledge that Georgiana had placed herself in a dangerous situation. To be sure, she did not blame the young woman; she was too young and innocent to have withstood Mr Wickham’s scheming—especially if he had help, as she suspected he had in Mrs Younge.
Darcy will come in the morning, and he will explain how this could have happened, why Georgiana took such a reckless step, and what on earth we shall do about it.
Sure enough, he was at Longbourn shortly after breakfast; Mr Bingley was with him but, much to her relief, Georgiana and Mr Wickham were not. Elizabeth could not—would not—think of her as Mrs Wickham. In time, she would have to, but she would avoid saying the distasteful words whenever possible. Certainly, she did not want Darcy to have to hear them; the situation was painful enough for him.
Mrs Bennet chatted in her usual fashion, seemingly unaware that the gentlemen and her two eldest daughters were quiet and often looked at each other, exchanging silent remarks. The remainder of the family were elsewhere, which was just as well; it meant there were fewer people about who might notice something was amiss.
“We are exceedingly eager for the assembly,” her mother said. “Lizzy is so glad you returned in time to go with us, Mr Darcy, as we all are, I dare say. But what of your charming sister? I thought Lizzy said she would be coming back with you or soon after. Oh, what did you tell me, Lizzy? Where did Miss Darcy go?”
Elizabeth looked at her betrothed, not knowing what to say. He was pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
He cleared his throat and, in a monotone, said, “Georgiana is presently at Netherfield. I am sure you will see her soon, madam.”
This satisfied Mrs Bennet, and she prattled on for a while longer before the young people escaped into the gardens. There, Mr Bingley led Jane in one direction, and Elizabeth immediately took Darcy in another, ending at a wooden bench where they could sit and speak privately.
“Tell me everything,” she said, and listened closely as he reviewed his conversations with his sister, Mr Wickham, and the former companion.
He sat bent at the waist, and she ran a soothing hand across his back, feeling how tense his muscles were. His voice was hoarse, sometimes cracking. “I spent half the night writing letters to my family—the earl, who is in Warwickshire, my uncle Darcy in Shropshire, Bramwell, Fitzwilliam. I must have burned a dozen before I finally managed to produce letters I believe are coherent enough for them to understand.”
“Will any of them come?”
“I said they should not. It is enough that I can hardly hold my temper with that”—he paused, suggesting to her that he had a stronger word in mind than the one he said—“man. I doubt any of them will practice such restraint. Fitzwilliam will be the hardest to keep away, and as he too is Georgiana’s guardian, I have no right to ask it of him. I would value his company, but his time is not his own. Possibly he would not be able to come, despite his wishes.”
He made a noise of disgust, and his tone hardened. “You should have seen Wickham at breakfast. All solicitous of her, acting like a doting husband, but I know it is all a lie. My sister is so unsuspecting. How can she not see what he is and how he has used her?”
“I know you do not expect an answer,” Elizabeth said. “I can only agree with you. Yesterday, when Jane, Mr Bingley, and I were speaking to her, I was astonished to realise that she believes you will be happy for her.”
He stood and began to pace. “She has twisted what I said to her about valuing affection above other considerations to justify marrying—at fifteen!—the son of a steward. It is obvious she believes every word he says to her. She has no ability to think for herself.”
“She is very young and has not been in the world,” Elizabeth said. “I imagine you and your relations have only discussed her entering society as something that would happen in two or three years—plenty of time to better instruct her on how to guard herself against unscrupulous men.”
“All my hopes for her are over. She has ruined her life, and if we are not extremely cautious, the consequences for my family are ones I hate to even consider,” he said morosely. He returned to the bench, took her hand and kissed it. “What would I do without you?”
“Fortunately, you will never have to find out.” She caught his eye and gave him a smile and a kiss. “What do we do now?”
He shrugged. “I thought of insisting we remove to Pemberley. I went so far as to mention it at breakfast. Georgiana immediately asked how we could depart before you and I were married. How could I disagree? Wickham was quick to assure her that he wanted to stay here too, talking about…I could not say. None of it made sense, but the intention was to make it sound like it was the only rational choice. No doubt, he is already devising some new plot to make me give him an exorbitant amount of money.” He sighed deeply. “Bingley is a friend without measure. He has said we are welcome to remain as long as we like. I believe the only alternative is to act as though their union has been properly sanctioned, that I was with my sister when she married, and that her wedding was one of the reasons for my recent absence. I do not know that we shall be believed, but I can think of no other way to hide the fact that my sister eloped with the last man I ever wanted her to marry.”
He buried his face in his hands. Elizabeth embraced him as best she could, whispering reassuring words, and vowing, “It will be well, my love. One way or another, it will be well.”