Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
The coachman shouted greetings to a passing farmer.
Georgiana looked up from her book and asked Darcy, “Will you marry our cousin?”
“What?”
“Anne wrote me a letter. She said you and she were to marry.”
The carriage lurched along with his stomach. “When did she write such a letter?”
“It arrived a few days back. No. In fact, it was the day the messenger arrived about Lady Catherine.”
Darcy slumped in his seat. “Our mothers concocted some plan when we were infants. It is as much a fairy story as any other.”
“Anne did not seem to think it fantastical.”
“Whom to marry is an important decision.”
“I know,” she said, her cheeks pinkening.
She looked back to her book, but when tears splashed upon the page, warping the paper, Darcy reached for her. “That was not directed at you.”
“My indiscretion shall forever be my shame.”
“Georgiana,” he said softly, and she looked up. “That man was a scoundrel. He preyed upon your innocence.”
“He made me feel—” She shook her head and looked out at a passing village.
Darcy did not wish to know how that man made her feel. She was a child, or so he thought, but talk of marriage might have led to other…feelings. He could not fathom it.
“He made me feel special.”
Darcy let out a relieved breath. “I understand. It is his greatest skill.” He attempted another smile, but feared he was simply grimacing.
“Perhaps that is why Anne wants to marry you. She hopes to feel special, and you are always kind to her.”
“Kindness is not the same as the desire to wed, and I have no desire to wed.”
“Her or anyone?”
Darcy shrugged. When had his baby sister grown old enough for them to speak as equals?
She asked, “What of Miss Bennet?”
“She is marrying Bingley.”
“No, the other Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
He did not know where to look or how to react, for Georgiana could read him like a familiar book.
“She is the only woman you have not rejected—”
“Oh, I did. I was cruel to her when first we met.”
“Brother!”
“But subsequently, we became friends.”
Georgiana tilted her head and studied him. “Even the way you say her name is different.”
“Is it?” he asked, shifting in his seat.
“Yes. She must be special.”
“She is.” He sighed, and the pair locked eyes.
“Tell me.”
“No.” He was caught between abject horror at being exposed in such a fashion and wishing to reveal his every thought to his inquiring sister.
“Tell me!” Georgiana was leaning forward, her face bright.
He reached out and tapped her nose. “No.”
She crossed her arms as she had done when she was small, and sulked.
Trying not to laugh, he said in his most imperious voice, “You shall get no more out of me.”
“I shall.”
“Never.” He smiled, and her pout twisted into a smile as well.
The coachman called as the carriage slowed, “Last post, sir.”
“Very good.” After Georgiana was handed down and he was on firm ground, happy to have feeling back in his legs, he said, “You will meet her at Bingley’s wedding. She is smart and kind and…terrible at the pianoforte.”
Georgiana laughed. “In that case, I insist you ask her to marry you, as I require being the only accomplished musician in the family.”
He had asked Miss Elizabeth, though for a different reason, and she had run from him. It made his heart ache as much now as when it had first occurred. He did not wish to ask and be rejected again. She had made her feelings clear.