Chapter Seventy-Six
When Georgiana arrived at Netherfield, Mr. Darcy asked his sister to join him in the library.
She did so, and he closed the door so that they might not be overheard.
Georgiana sat down and closed her eyes, expecting the scolding that she so very richly deserved and the announcement of a dire punishment of some sort.
Instead, Mr. Darcy said. “Georgiana, I regret very much that I did not tell you the truth of George Wickham.”
“Are you going to tell me now?” she asked, tentatively, still waiting for the punishment to be announced.
“I prefer not to go into detail,” he said. “But his character is very bad, and has been so for a long time. He is a gambler, and an opportunist, and – as you know now – cannot be trusted with ladies.”
“How long have you known about him? His true character, I mean?”
“Since we were at school together.”
“So all this time, and I never knew…”
“I tried to tell Father, but he would not believe me.” He cleared his throat. “ And I suppose it is time that you learn how men and women…” he paused, unsure as to how to continue.
“No need, Brother,” Georgiana said, staring at the floor. “Mrs. Bennet told me.”
“She did?”
“Yes; she said it was best coming from a woman, not from a man.”
“That was kind of her,” Mr. Darcy said, nearly faint with relief at not having to have this extremely difficult conversation.
“So if he had done that to me, I would have had to marry him?” Georgiana asked, looking up at her brother.
“Not necessarily,” Mr. Darcy said, somberly. “The alternative would have been for me to kill him, so that he would not ever tell anyone what he had done. Lydia did so in my stead.”
“But if I was with child?” she pressed him.
“You might have had to marry quickly,” Mr. Darcy replied. “Or perhaps you would have gone into the country to have the child and it would have been adopted by some farm family.”
“I think…I must go now, Brother,” Georgiana whispered. She rose and made her way to the door, almost blindly.
“Georgiana,” Mr. Darcy said, rising and speaking hoarsely. “I cannot tell you how much I regret – “ But he did not finish, as she had left the room.
She went silently up the stairs, into her room, and closed the door.
Then she sat down on the bed and closed her eyes.
Her brother had regrets!? No, it was she, Georgiana, who had the most to regret!
How she had thrown herself at a man who had turned out to be the worst sort of rascal!
How she had schemed to be alone with him, allowing him to – try to – and here, words failed her.
She stayed there, thoughts whirling in her head, anger warring with self-loathing in her heart, until she was called down to dinner.
***
That night, Georgiana decided that she must write to Anne.
She owed Anne a letter, of course, and Anne was doubtless wondering how it had all turned out.
She could not bear the thought of Anne and Aunt Catherine discussing it, discussing her and her stupidity, so perhaps she could put an end to that.
She did her best with the letter.
Dear Anne,
I suppose you know that your mother saw my last letter to you about meeting George alone.
I am not at all angry; it is well that she did, for she immediately sent a messenger to alert Brother, and he was able to help save me from my own stupidity.
I prefer to say no more about this, dear Anne, other than to say that it was all very dreadful, and I had nightmares about it for several days.
I cannot tell you how much I regret my foolishness!
Brother has forgiven me, though why I cannot think!
On to happier things! Mr. Bingley, our host here and my brother’s good friend, is to marry Miss Jane Bennet, and I have every expectation that my brother will marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet!
This would be everything wonderful, as I would gain not one, but five sisters, and I love each and every one of them!
Your loving and grateful cousin,
Georgiana
She understood that she could never tell Anne what had actually happened out there in the woods. No one must ever know that Lydia had murdered a man in order to save Georgiana.