Chapter 6 #2
“You are determined to grieve me.” Darcy Senior crossed his arms irritably and looked out of the window.
“Did you not hear what I said? You have been here for less than a month, and your godson already owes almost more than he will earn in the next two years.” Darcy was at a loss to understand how his father could be so weak to the charm of George Wickham.
“His own father would never have indulged him to this degree. Indeed, I believe that he would be disappointed by what your patronage has done to his son. Howard Wickham would have thrashed George senseless and washed his hands entirely of him many years ago. You have indulged your godson to uselessness, and you continue to allow him to come and go freely from our family homes. He was trifling with a housemaid when I entered the house. Another innocent girl who will be turned out and ruined once he has taken what he wants from her.”
“I will have another talk with him about the maids. Give me the list of the merchants and leave me.” Darcy Senior waved him away.
“Father, Georgiana is entering womanhood. Have you not noticed?” Darcy asked his father in a serious tone.
“What?”
“She is sixteen, the age of nearly every girl your godson has ruined, although several have even been a year or two younger. He comes and goes from the house unchecked. He believes he will never be stopped by you. Do you not fear for her safety?” Darcy stared at his father as if he were a stranger.
“How dare you!” Darcy Senior struggled to his feet. “You jealous wretch. George would never–”
“With all due respect, Father, I dare!” Darcy glowered.
“I am man enough to take over Pemberley, all of our estates, manage all of our holdings and investments, bearing your burdens for years, and I have proved myself to you in every way I know how, but suddenly when the subject turns to your godson, I am not mature enough to know what I am talking about? I demand to know. How will you live with yourself if your godson harms my sister?”
“Give me the list of merchants and leave me,” Darcy Senior repeated.
“I already settled with the merchants,” Darcy snarled.
“Then stop whining about your rival and leave me!” his father demanded.
“Rival?” Darcy said in disbelief. “Your godson could never be a rival to me.”
When his father raised a brow, Darcy continued. “George Wickham could never be me, and who would ever want to be him? The only rivalry that exists is in your mind.”
On that note, he turned, and after the worst disagreement he and his father had ever had, he left the study in a most foul mood. Darcy was shaking from having spoken to his father thus.
An instant later, he encountered his sister in the hall, accompanied by a brunette with dark curls and impossibly beautiful eyes. Darcy was attempting to reorder his thoughts when his sister launched an assault of affectionate effusions upon him.
“Fitzwilliam, you are here! I knew you would come today. Miss Elizabeth, did I not tell you a half hour ago that he would certainly arrive before Sunday? Fitzwilliam, let me present my friend, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Her father and ours have become good friends, and we were just–”
“Georgiana, your last foray into feminine companionship ended with half a dozen girls planning to get close enough to you in order to compromise me, and then force you to marry one of their brothers. Do you not think that perhaps your visit to Ramsgate would be better spent learning to socialise without encouraging others quite so much?”
Darcy felt terrible the instant the words left his mouth.
This is what came of speaking dishonourably to his father.
He opened himself up to angry words, and now he had just harmed the person who meant more to him than anyone in the world.
His sister turned white and stepped back as if she had been slapped, her eyes turning to her friend in horror and mortification.
“Georgiana, I am sorry, I should never ha–”
“Sorry? You are sorry?” Miss Elizabeth Bennet turned upon him in fury.
“Who the devil do you think you are, sir? How dare you speak to Miss Darcy in such a cruel and hateful fashion? I know now why poor Miss Darcy is so painfully shy, and the reason stands right before me! To suggest that Miss Darcy, a perfectly lovely, well-accomplished, educated young lady, holds no worth for anyone other than access she might provide to your person! Of course she is shy, when her own brother finds her unworthy of friendship and esteem!”
Darcy Senior’s study opened slightly, and Lady Priscilla’s head emerged from the parlour Georgiana and Elizabeth had departed from moments earlier as Miss Elizabeth raged on.
“Before you ascribe any intention of mine to your person, sir, let us be perfectly clear that I am Miss Darcy’s friend, and that if I ever endure any of your company, it will be for her sake.
For I find you the most monstrously prideful, unfeeling, worst possible villain I have ever met, and the very last man in the entire world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry! ”
She turned and swept his sister into a fierce hug, then whirled and left the house in a splendid exit. Darcy turned to his sister with shame in his expression as a sob caught in Georgiana’s throat, and she turned and fled up the stairs.
“Darcy! What have you done?” Priscilla glared at him as she pushed by and followed her cousin up the stairs with all speed.
His father turned away and closed the study door firmly.
Darcy stood alone in the hall wondering what to do, then realised there was only one thing he could do. He left the house by the front door and went after Miss Elizabeth Bennet with all haste.