Chapter 18 Revelation
The carriage drew up before Darcy House at half past ten that evening.
Georgiana's heart ached at the sight of the house, knowing it was no longer her home. As Mr. Wickham's wife, she must now live under his roof. But where did he live? She had never thought to ask.
Her thoughts turned darker. How could she endure a life with him if he returned home drunk and enraged?
He had already injured her within the first days of her marriage.
Would he always become violent while in his cups?
A terrible dread settled over her, and she trembled as she looked to the future, wondering what would become of her.
Mrs. Younge handed her a folded paper.
“Give this to your brother. It contains the answers to the questions he will ask.”
Confused, Georgiana asked, “Are you not coming in with me to explain to my brother what has happened?”
“No, Georgiana. I am the last person your brother will wish to see. He entrusted your life, your care, and your reputation to me. I have brought you home alive, but your reputation has been ruined. He will dismiss me. I only pray he will take no more serious action against me.”
The coachman placed both portmanteaus beside the curb, and Mrs. Younge closed the carriage door without so much as a farewell.
Georgiana and Jenny each took up a portmanteau and climbed the steps to Darcy House. Fear tightened her chest when the door would not open. Georgiana looked to her little maid, and Jenny sounded the knocker. Within moments, the footman opened the door and admitted them.
The butler stood in the foyer, staring in astonishment.
“Miss Georgiana! We all believed you to be in Ramsgate. Indeed, your brother and your cousin departed for Ramsgate not two hours ago.”
“Do you know why he went there, Higgins?”
“He said only that you wished to return home and that he and the colonel had gone to collect you.”
Georgiana did not know what to think. After a moment's reflection, she said, “Higgins, I must send an express to my brother, lest he become anxious on my account.”
Higgins asked with discretion, “And Mrs. Younge? Is she not with you, miss?”
Georgiana had never found it necessary to prevaricate, but she did so now. A flush rose to her cheeks.
“Mrs. Younge wished to visit her parents, sir. She brought us here and has now gone on to the boarding house where they reside. She left a letter for Fitzwilliam. I shall enclose it within my own, which must go by express so my brother need not be anxious any longer than necessary.”
“Yes, miss.”
He motioned to the footman to collect their baggage, and they followed him upstairs to Georgiana's bedchamber.
Once inside, Georgiana closed the door.
“Jenny, you must keep everything that passed at Ramsgate to yourself. You are not to speak of it to anyone, do you understand?”
The maid curtsied. “Yes, miss.”
“It is late. You may draw my bath tomorrow morning. Tonight, we both need our rest. It has been a long, tiring day. You are excused.”
“Thank you, Miss Georgiana.”
After Jenny left, Georgiana sat at her writing desk and stared at Mrs. Younge's letter to Fitzwilliam.
She knew she ought not open it, but she could not bring herself to set it aside. Perhaps it would explain why Mrs. Younge had resigned her position. Why had she believed Fitzwilliam would seek to avenge a wrong?
The letter lay unsealed. It had been written upon coarse paper and was brief. Her companion must have penned it at the inn.
She unfolded it and began to read.
Before she reached the end, tears streamed down her face.
Her marriage had been a deception. She had believed August 24, the day of her wedding, would forever hold a place of honor in her heart, a day she and her husband would commemorate each year. But she had not married.
According to Mrs. Younge's letter, the rector had been an impostor. No record of the marriage existed because no marriage had taken place. Mrs. Younge explained that she wrote only to ensure Mr. Wickham received no part of the dowry he had so greatly coveted.
Gratitude swept through Georgiana. She was not married to that enraged liar, that reprobate.
But she was ruined and, according to Mrs. Younge, might even now carry Mr. Wickham's child.
Would Fitzwilliam repudiate her? She was now a fallen woman.
She remembered her friend Emily, taken from school and given in marriage to a poor farmer who lived far to the north.
She had held Emily as she wept in despair.
Now she herself stood in the same unhappy situation.
Her life had changed beyond recall.
The revelation left her so stunned that she could do nothing but stare down at the letter.
A firm knock upon the door startled her.
“Yes?”
“Miss Darcy, did you wish to send an express?”
“Yes, Higgins. I am writing it now.”
Georgiana wrote a brief note explaining only that she had returned home safely in a hired carriage with Mrs. Younge, who had resigned her position.
She added that she enclosed a letter from her former companion, though she had struck out the names lest it fall into a stranger's hands and the truth be made known.
She sealed Mrs. Younge’s letter, placed it within the folds of her own, then sealed it also.
She found Higgins and placed it in his hand.
“When will Fitzwilliam receive this express?”
“If we dispatch it now, miss, he should receive it tomorrow morning about seven.”
“Higgins, if it is addressed to Fitzwilliam Darcy and my brother has not yet reached the leased house in Ramsgate, what will become of the express?”
“Miss Darcy, add a note beneath the direction instructing that, should Mr. Darcy not yet have arrived, it is to be held by the butler until it can be delivered to either Mr. Darcy or Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“Very good, Higgins. I shall do so.”
When it was done, she retired for the night.