Chapter 11
Georgiana’s Sitting Room
Later
Georgiana leaned back in her chair and looked around with solemn pleasure.
It was a beautiful room and pleasantly cool.
The ivory lace curtains on either side of the open window shifted in a light breeze, and the sun glowed golden across an ornate Oriental carpet, whose threads were a lovely mixture of orange and peach and cream and saffron.
It matched the recently installed wallpaper, which had been chosen to set off the carpets, and the frills on the chair cushions, and the velvet on the wingbacks and the loveseat.
The bookshelves lining one wall bore testament to Georgiana’s love of the written word.
Books stood interspersed with feminine knickknacks, made of lace and china.
A young shepherdess staring with dreamy blue eyes up at her crook held up one end of a row of books, and a shepherd lad tenderly carrying a white lamb held up the other end.
Doilies and dried flowers decorated the shelves, and a painted landscape of daffodils glowed on the wall adjacent to the door.
A small fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace.
Neither its heat nor its light was really needed, with the warm sun pouring through the windows, but it chased away the last of the shadows from the far side of the room.
The door opened, and Georgiana, who had been sitting in silence, looked up as her brother entered the room.
She felt reasonably secure and cozy in her own sitting room, replete with sunlight and the warm colors she so enjoyed, but Fitzwilliam always made her feel especially safe.
She scooted over to create room for him on her couch, and he sat down beside her and took her hand in his. He looked down at her fingers, a crease between his brows. She waited patiently; she knew her brother to be a taciturn man, who habitually measured his words before he spoke them.
“Georgiana?”
“Yes?”
He hesitated again, and then said, “My dear, attempted abduction is a very serious crime. If Wickham and his conspirators are found guilty, they may well be executed.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened. “Hanged, you mean?”
Fitzwilliam patted her hand. “It is a possibility, yes. Or they might be transported to the Antipodes. I think that the judge will ask our opinion on the matter, so I wished to ask your thoughts.”
She leaned back against the padded couch and bit her lip. Her experience had been truly dreadful, but the thought of being responsible, even tangentially, for the death of another human being was a positively horrible one.
“I wonder what Miss Bennet thinks?” she murmured.
“She believes that Zimmer does not deserve death because he had no loyalty to the Darcy name, but she would not mourn for the other two if they should be so sentenced. Wickham was our father’s godson, and Mrs. Younge was hired to care for you, and instead…”
He broke off, and Georgiana was shocked to see tears in her brother’s eyes.
“It did not happen,” she said, reaching out to pull him close to her. “It did not happen, thanks to Miss Bennet and the other two men.”
For a minute, they clung together, two siblings, two orphans.
“Yes, I thank God hourly for keeping you safe,” Darcy rasped and released her.
He cleared his throat, wiped his eyes, and said, “There is one aspect of the situation that is worthy of consideration, that Wickham has long been able to convince women around him that he has been unfairly treated by me. He speaks of the Kympton living and our father’s genuine love for him, and he claims that my jealousy caused me to deprive him of the income that was his due.
I suspect that Mrs. Younge accepted his lies and thought that, at some level, Wickham deserved to be compensated for what she believed was my cruelty. ”
“But what about me?” Georgiana whispered. “How could she think that forcing me into marriage…”
“I believe that Wickham told her that he would not harm you in any way, that he would merely take charge of your dowry and send you back to live with me,” her brother said gently.
“He did not want you as a wife; he wanted money, and I would have given up the thirty thousand to keep you safe from him.”
Georgiana swallowed hard and said, “I understand. Regarding, well, execution … what do you think, Brother?”
Darcy looked out the window toward the rose garden and released a slow breath.
She waited patiently again, and finally he said, “I would be entirely at peace if Zimmer and Mrs. Younge were deported, but I believe that Wickham deserves death. As our father’s godson, his is the greatest betrayal.
Moreover, he is without a doubt a genuine danger to those around him.
He is good-looking and silver-tongued, with the appearance and manners of a gentleman, but his propensities are vicious, and he obviously has no hesitation taking advantage of anyone who crosses his path. ”
“I agree,” Georgiana said softly.
***
Carriage
En Route to Derby
A Week Later
Thursday, 20th June 1811
The cushioned footstool was held carefully in place with bricks to avoid it sliding around with the movement of the carriage.
Elizabeth was grateful, as the continued elevation of her ankle and foot did much to ease the inevitable aches of the journey.
Moreover, Mr. Darcy had insisted that the entire party be conveyed in his own carriages, which were luxurious beyond anything she had ever experienced in the past.
Though perfectly sensible and sober on the outside, without any sort of gilding or other ostentatious show of wealth, the carriage was nonetheless elegant and expensive.
The squabs were deep and cushy, the upholstery plush and velvety soft to the touch, and the springs excellent.
Elizabeth was not even uncomfortable riding backwards.
Her aunt and uncle Gardiner sat across from her, and to her left sat the maid Molly, her needle darting in and out of a heap of white linen draped over her lap like a snowbank.
Elizabeth contemplated her ankle thoughtfully.
In the doctor’s learned opinion, she need no longer fear that her ankle was broken.
It was merely badly sprained and bruised.
Even so, she had to be cautious when moving around, never putting weight on her foot for more than a moment, but at least she was no longer confined only to one spot unless carried, or dependent on the crutches to take even a single step.
The good doctor had been reluctant to give his sanction for her trip to Derby, but the Assizes waited for no one.
Elizabeth’s presence was required, for much would hinge on her testimony.
So the doctor had strictly prescribed as much rest as possible in the larger city, wrapped her ankle well, and ordered her to be careful.
Behind their carriage came the second one, carrying Mr. Darcy and his sister, her abigail and his valet.
He had sent ahead to arrange for rooms for them all at a genteel inn where the Darcy family had historically stayed any time business took them out Derby way.
He had assured the Gardiners and Elizabeth that all their needs would be attended to by the staff of the inn, and had further informed them that a ground-floor bedchamber was reserved for Elizabeth.
The prospect of not having to face stairs was a great relief to her mind.
Elizabeth dwelt pensively on the sober, handsome master of Pemberley, scarcely noticing the gentle swaying of the carriage as they rode along.
Had she been asked to imagine the circumstances of the previous days, she would have anticipated the enforced rest to be tedious in the extreme.
Certainly, it was tiresome to be dependent on crutches for her locomotion, especially as Elizabeth was accustomed to vigorous activity at will.
Yet for all that, she found herself enjoying herself immensely at Pemberley.
That had much to do with the master of the estate.
Though notably lacking in the gregarious charm of, say, Sir William Lucas, who genuinely delighted in the company of others, Mr. Darcy was nonetheless the consummate host. His attention to the needs of his guests was scrupulous.
His kindness could not be greater. No detail was too small to escape his notice, no desire too slight to be noted.
There was nothing artful or studied in his generosity. He was simply, in his soul, a good man.
She derived as much pleasure from their conversations as from his attentions to her comfort.
His mind was soundly grounded, and his intelligence expanded with all the benefits of a considerable education, not only that of careful schooling but also from his reading.
Every discussion with him was interesting.
Elizabeth, who also treasured the written word, was used to such conversations with her father, but she knew that her learning made some gentlemen consider her a bluestocking.
Mr. Darcy did not disdain her eagerness to learn and was obviously pleased by her delight in his glorious library.
Elizabeth actually enjoyed speaking to Mr. Darcy more than she did her father.
Though Elizabeth shared much of Mr. Bennet’s sardonic amusement with the world, she found she preferred Mr. Darcy’s brand of dry wit tempered with a solid foundation of honor that she, in all honesty, knew her father lacked.
Mr. Bennet tended towards a self-interested indolence and did not care enough about his wife and children to protect or guide them.
In some ways, Mr. Darcy reminded her of her Uncle Gardiner.
Mr. Darcy cared for his sister in the same way that Mr. Gardiner cared for his wife and children, both men prioritizing the well-being of their families over their own comfort.