Chapter 2 #2
Mrs. Younge, it seemed, had reached the end of her patience. “You shall have to speak to your brother about any invitations you wish to extend, Miss Darcy,” she said waspishly. “For now, we must depart. We were to meet the Misses Jones at three o’clock.”
Georgiana and Wickham said their farewells and parted ways. Wickham watched as Mrs. Younge hurried her charge away. He could not quite say what, but something about the woman was bothering him. He would have to keep his eyes open while Darcy was not in residence.
Two weeks later, George happened to see Miss Darcy again.
This time, she was on the arm of an unknown man, Mrs. Younge trailing too far behind them.
His eyes narrowed, and he watched from a distance.
As the two strolled down the street, Mrs. Younge found a bench outside a shop and sat down.
The two wandered farther and farther away.
The smirk on Mrs. Younge’s face was pronounced, even from George’s position some yards away.
George decided against approaching the couple that day. Instead, he made a few discreet inquiries to find out where Miss Darcy was staying. This allowed him to meet and convince a maid to tell him all that was going on inside the house.
The gentleman, it seemed, was Mrs. Younge’s brother, a certain Tobias Jones. Mr. Jones was a clerk for another solicitor in Ramsgate, one that George was not terribly familiar with.
Mrs. Younge had first introduced Miss Darcy to her younger sisters, the aforementioned Misses Jones the two were to visit.
Afterwards, Mr. Jones had taken to visiting Miss Darcy and her companion regularly, and the maid thought the gentleman to be quite taken with the young lady.
George offered the maid his address and some coin, requesting she notify him of anything else that happened in the house over the next few weeks.
George continued to see Georgiana and her awful companion around Ramsgate.
Mr. Jones often accompanied them, and more often than not, Mrs. Younge left the two alone.
Georgiana, he could see, was smitten with the man in the way only a fifteen-year-old girl can be; he had her wrapped around his finger.
George did not know what to do, until, at the end of April, the maid sent him a missive asking to meet.
The information the girl relayed was concerning.
She told him that Mrs. Younge and Mr. Jones had of late been attempting to convince Miss Darcy of the prudence of an elopement.
Mr. Darcy, they said, would never approve of the marriage.
Mr. Jones was not a high enough ranked gentleman to suit her stiff brother.
Miss Darcy so far had refused to consider it, but the maid felt it would only be a matter of time before she was convinced.
That decided it. George returned to his lodgings and penned a letter to Darcy in London.
April 30, 1811
Darcy,
I have been in Ramsgate these last 3 years in the employ of a noted solicitor.
Imagine my surprise when some weeks ago I encountered your sister and her companion.
I have since seen her about many times, on the arm of a man named Mr. Jones, whom I have learned is the brother of Mrs. Younge, her companion.
A maid in the house tells me the two are pressuring your sister to consent to an elopement.
I have not made any effort to approach or intervene beyond this. Mrs. Younge did not seem best pleased to know that an intimate friend of the family was in Ramsgate. I beseech you to come with all due haste before it is too late.
Yours,
George Wickham
George had no way of knowing if Darcy would even read his letter or if he would simply cast it into the fire unopened. He prayed that his friend would come. If he did not, George would have to act on his behalf.
Two weeks passed. The maid sent word that Mrs. Younge and her brother had convinced Georgiana to elope. The pair would abscond to Scotland on May 18th. Darcy was not scheduled arrive in Ramsgate until May 28th, a full ten days later. The couple would be well and truly bound together by then.
It was currently the 14th of May, which left only four days before the intended elopement.
George waited outside of the rented house whenever he could, hoping to see and speak to Georgiana just once before she was gone.
But Mrs. Younge had apparently determined to keep her charge close now that the prize was within her grasp.
Only servants came and went over the next two days.
On May 17th, George began to panic. How would he stop them if Darcy did not show up?
Perhaps his old friend had not heeded his missive.
George did not know how he would stop the impending elopement, but somehow, he would.
With the intent to call on the house Georgiana was staying at, George left his lodgings and hailed a hackney.
He instructed the driver to deposit him one street over to approach the house a little less conspicuously.
As he rounded the corner and the door came in view, he was startled to see a Darcy carriage parked outside.
Worried at first that the elopement had been moved up a day, he hurried forward, only to see Darcy descending the conveyance.
George froze, then sagged in relief. He was here. Georgiana was safe.
Wandering to the nearby park, George found a bench with a view of the house.
It was not too much longer that a man was roughly thrown out the door.
Mr. Jones, the evil suitor, stumbled on the stoop before righting himself and straightening his jacket.
He glanced around to see if anyone had witnessed his expulsion before striding away as if nothing had happened.
Thirty minutes later, Mrs. Younge and her trunk were deposited on the street.
George could see Darcy standing in the window, glaring down at the companion.
Mrs. Younge hailed a hack and was gone in short order.
His purpose for remaining in the park now complete, George wandered back to his rooms.
The next day, Darcy paid him the honor of a visit. They sat uncomfortably in the small parlor of his lodgings. Darcy made to speak more than once, but always lapsed into silence. Finally, he mustered the words.
“Thank you.”
“You are quite welcome, Darcy,” George said.
“How much do you want for your silence?” Darcy said in return.
George’s good mood was immediately squelched. “So, this is what you think of me,” he said sadly. “I do not want anything, Darcy. I will take the events I have witnessed to the grave. Georgiana is like my sister. I could do no less if she were my own blood.”
Darcy stared at him unbelievingly. “You really do not want anything?” he said again. “Nothing at all?”
“A letter of character, should I ever need it? Would that ease your conscience and help you feel as if we are even?”
Darcy regarded him with a sober expression before he nodded. “You shall have it, if you ever have need.” He hesitated before he continued. “You really are employed here in Ramsgate?” he asked.
“Yes, I am, for the time being. I shall be taking a new position in the autumn. The change will be welcome, I think,” George replied.
Darcy nodded. George had the impression that his friend still did not fully believe his account of his doings in the area, and he ventured to guess that Darcy thought him involved in something nefarious.
“How is Georgiana?” Wickham ventured to ask.
Darcy’s brow darkened in anger. “She is as well as can be expected. The position I found them in was most compromising. Mrs. Younge admitted that her brother had been sleeping in the house with them for nigh on a week! Georgie heard him abuse me most soundly when I declared he would not see a farthing of her dowry should she not have the blessing of both her guardians before marrying. The terms of her dowry say no such thing; I can only withhold the funds until her twenty-fifth birthday, but I sought to push him to act rashly.”
“I imagine his reaction did much to disillusion her,” Wickham murmured.
“She is devastated. It is good that she sees him for what he is before it is too late, however. I could not have withheld her dowry indefinitely, of course, but I cannot release it until she is twenty-five should she marry without approval.”
George pursed his lips. What a despicable cad. He could scarcely believe anyone could behave so with sweet, innocent Georgiana.
“And Mrs. Younge was summarily dismissed,” Darcy continued. “How I could have been so very deceived in her character is unfathomable. I almost lost my sister.” Darcy’s voice broke a little as he contemplated how close he came to just that outcome.
George put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It will be well. Take her home to Pemberley. It is a place of healing, as you well know. She is young yet and will get past this trial.”
Darcy nodded. He rose, bowing to George before seeing himself out.
George leaned back in his chair, sighing.
He was unsure how his friend felt toward him.
Darcy might still be determined to see bad in him, but it could not be helped.
He felt, though, that he was keeping his promise made long ago, to be as true a friend to Darcy as Darcy had been to him.