Georgiana Darcy, Matchmaker

by Bronwen Chisholm

  Her eyes widened as she turned abruptly toward him. Clearly, Mr. Wickham had not revealed this information.

  Without pause, Fitzwilliam continued. “His own father did not long survive mine, and within half a year from these events, George wrote to inform me that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment by which he could not be benefited.”

  Miss Elizabeth stopped walking and turned to face him fully. I could tell by her expression Mr. Wickham had not revealed this information.

  “I have seen the document, Miss Elizabeth,” I said softly. “My brother gave him three thousand pounds and Mr. Wickham relinquished any claim to assistance in the church.”

  “But he mentioned no funds at all.” Miss Elizabeth frowned.

  Releasing my brother, I linked arms with her and began walking, leading Miss Elizabeth further down the path. “He made no mention to me, either, when we met at Ramsgate this past summer.”

  Her eyes grew larger and she glanced toward Fitzwilliam who now walked silently alongside us. We had agreed I would tell Miss Elizabeth of the events of the past summer.

  “You mentioned being deceived by your previous companion while at Ramsgate.” Miss Elizabeth appeared curious, yet reluctant to hear my story.

  Seeing a bench on the next path, I motioned toward it and we took a seat. Fitzwilliam continued to stand, looking about to be certain none were near to overhear our conversation. His expression was grave and formidable.

  “Miss Elizabeth …”

  “Please, Miss Darcy,” the lady interrupted. “I fear you are about to reveal something truly horrendous. I pray you would not feel the necessity. It is clear Mr. Wickham has misguided me, and I shall not allow it to occur in the future. I do not want you to believe you must reveal all to convince me.”

  “Miss Bennet.” Fitzwilliam knelt before us. “I believe my sister shall not find peace until she has shared her tale with you. I fear I have been a poor substitute for a father and mother to her.” He took my hand in his own. “If you would, hear her out? It would put both our minds at ease to know there was an understanding young lady to whom she could speak regarding the incident.”

  A blush covered Miss Elizabeth’s countenance and she nodded hesitantly for me to continue. Fitzwilliam stood again and moved a short distance away to give us additional privacy as he kept watch.

  “Mrs. Younge; she was my companion before Mrs. Annesley. We had remained in London while my brother returned to Pemberley for the summer. I was studying with a renowned pianist who normally does not take on pupils. It was most rewarding and I was exceedingly grateful to Fitzwilliam for arranging it. The gentleman … forgive me, I promised not to reveal his name. He fears others will seek him out, and he dislikes having to refuse anyone.”

  Miss Elizabeth nodded her understanding and I continued. “He became ill and left town to take the waters at Bath. Mrs. Younge expressed her displeasure of remaining in town during the heat of summer and suggested we write Fitzwilliam to ask permission to visit the sea. He agreed and arranged for our travel and lodging at Ramsgate.”

  Swallowing hard, I lowered my gaze to my hands which I kept folded in my lap. I realized the leather of my gloves was stretched taught over my knuckles, and I forced myself to relax. “While at Ramsgate, we met with Mr. Wickham. I remembered him from when I was younger as he was often at Pemberley. He introduced himself to Mrs. Younge as a family friend. It seemed we saw him whenever we went out, no matter of the time or where we were going. Mrs. Younge told me it was not improper to spend time with him, as he had been a favourite of my father’s. Indeed, she led me to believe my father would have been pleased.”

  As I spoke, Miss Elizabeth gradually moved closer to me, eventually slipping a reassuring arm about me. Her compassion nearly undid me and, instinctively, I leaned against her, drawing strength to go on.

  “One day, Mr. Wickham asked to escort us to the promenade. Mrs. Younge accompanied us a short distance, but then claimed she had forgotten something and returned to the house. I attempted to return with her, but she insisted we continue and she would meet us before long. I knew it was improper, but she repeated that he was a family friend and no harm could come of it.” Taking my handkerchief from my reticule, I wiped my eyes before taking a deep breath and pressing forward.

  “Mr. Wickham proposed the moment she was out of sight. He insisted everyone we knew would be pleased. I asked him to speak to Fitzwilliam, but he explained there was no time. He had taken a position with the army and was being sent to the north. He suggested we elope, saying we could stop at Pemberley afterward, on our way to his regiment. When Mrs. Younge returned, he announced our engagement to her. She was exceedingly pleased and congratulated us. I told her of Mr. Wickham’s plans, believing she would dissuade him, but she nearly swooned over the romance of it.”

  Glancing at my friend once more, I saw Elizabeth sadly shaking her head. I took her hand for added strength and finished my story. “It was decided we would leave the following day, and Mr. Wickham left to see to the arrangements. When Mrs. Younge and I arrived back at the house, we learned Fitzwilliam had arrived to surprise me. I shall never forget the odd expression that overcame her; she appeared quite ill and excused herself to go to her rooms. I was so pleased to see my brother and quickly shared my news, as I believed we could now obtain his blessing.”

  Unexpectedly, a sob escaped from me and Miss Elizabeth held me tighter. “I had never seen my brother in such a state. He was so angry. When he called for Mrs. Younge, we discovered she had fled the house. I began to realize all was not as it appeared.

  “In all the times we had met with Mr. Wickham, I had not learned his address in Ramsgate. There was no way for Fitzwilliam to speak with him that day. I remained unconcerned, for I knew he would be coming to collect me the following day.” I hesitated and lowered my eyes once more. “We stayed within the house the entire day, but he did not come.” Fresh realization of where my mindless actions could have led me caused my countenance to turn a bright crimson and tears spilled down my cheeks.

  “Oh, you poor dear.” Miss Elizabeth squeezed me tightly.

  I felt the open acceptance in her embrace and laid my head upon Miss Elizabeth’s shoulder as the realization of how much I missed having a mother or sister in my life washed over me. We remained in this manner until I became aware of my brother standing before us. Reluctantly I drew back from my friend and looked up to meet his gaze. Nothing was said, but slowly we exchanged smiles and I was certain he knew I was well.

  Turning to thank Miss Elizabeth, I caught the look of astonishment that crossed her face. From the corner of my eye, I could see Fitzwilliam’s smile of gratitude that he had bestowed on the lady. If nothing else, she does not believe he is merely tolerable. I fought the urge to giggle, quickly covering my mouth and turning away.

  Unfortunately, both of my companions misunderstood my actions and attempted to embrace me, finding ourselves unexpectedly entwined. With cheeks flaming red, Miss Elizabeth recovered first; and, laughing nervously, drew away from Fitzwilliam and myself.

  “Forgive me,” Fitzwilliam muttered as he turned toward me. “Georgie, are you unwell?”

  I could feel the mischievous smile flit across my lips before I was able to suppress my expression and nod. “If you would excuse me, Brother, I would prefer a moment alone.” I stood and quickly stepped down the path a short distance in an attempt to give them a moment of privacy, though I was careful to remain close enough to hear what was said.

  I could feel Fitzwilliam’s gaze upon me and was certain he nervously tugged at his gloves as he was want to do when anxious and unable to twist his ring. Finally he cleared his throat. “Thank you, Miss Bennet. I fear Georgiana misses having someone in whom to confide. Our cousin wed last season and has moved to Cornwall.”

  I turned in time to see Miss Elizabeth’s brows draw together.
“I understood your cousin was yet unwed.”

  It took a moment for clarity to strike Fitzwilliam. “My cousin, Miss Anne De Bourgh, is unwed and remains at her home in Kent. Georgiana has never been close with Anne as I do not wish to expose her to Lady Catherine. I was speaking of our other cousin, Lady Beatrice, daughter of Lord and Lady Matlock.”

  “Oh.” Miss Elizabeth appeared as though there was more she wished to say, but instead she remained silent.

  “I suppose you have heard rumours of my being engaged to my cousin, Anne.”

  Her cheeks flamed red again as she nodded. “Mr. Collins and Mr. Wickham both mentioned it.”

  Fitzwilliam shook his head, disgust written in his expression. “It is my aunt; she insists upon it being so. I visit her in Kent every Easter to look over her affairs, and she tells me repeatedly it was my mother’s fondest wish we wed.” He took a deep breath and released it quickly. A mysterious smile slowly crept across his lips and he turned to Elizabeth once more, conspiratorially. “What she does not know is my mother was resolute I not marry my cousin. She not only told me to follow my heart, but wrote me a letter prior to her death repeating her wishes.”

  Adjusting my position lest they realize I was listening, I stole a glance over my shoulder in time to witness the same bewildered expression cross my friend’s countenance. There was a moment of silence before Miss Elizabeth appeared to revive, and her eyes lit with amusement.

  “You would do best to guard that letter well, sir. You may be forced to present it one day should her Ladyship become too insistent, or should you choose to wed a lady who is not your cousin.”

  My brother’s rich laughter filled the air. “I carry it with me whenever I visit Rosings Park for that very reason.”

  Once more, Miss Elizabeth appeared a bit surprised, but she recovered quickly. “But is that wise, sir? What if her Ladyship should learn of it and have it destroyed?”

  “You will find, Miss Bennet,” Fitzwilliam said as he leaned closer yet, “that I have the most faithful servants. They would not allow the letter to fall into her hands, as they do not desire my cousin as their

  mistress any more than I wish it for them.”

  Furtively stealing glances without bringing attention to myself, I noted the tension that had suddenly sprung up between my brother and my friend. Unwilling to interfere, I stood as still as possible and waited to see what might occur. The silence seemed to stretch painfully on until it was pierced by a most displeasing sound.

  “Oh, there you are Miss Eliza!” Miss Bingley called out as she strode intently down the main garden walk. “Your carriage has been called and your sister is awaiting you inside.”

  Fitzwilliam took Miss Elizabeth’s hand and assisted her to rise from the bench. Their gaze held as though they had not heard a word their hostess had said. “May I escort you inside?” he asked softly.

  Quickly, I stepped to my brother’s other side and took his arm just as Miss Bingley was about to do so. With me on one side of Fitzwilliam and Miss Elizabeth on the other, Miss Bingley huffed and turned to lead us back to the house.

  “I have enjoyed my visit,” Miss Elizabeth said quietly, not looking toward either Fitzwilliam or myself. “I hope to see you again soon.” This time, her eyes lingered on Fitzwilliam before she turned quickly and smiled at me.

  A warmth spread in my chest and I could do nothing to stop the silly grin that overcame my countenance. I looked up at my brother and noted his expression mirrored my own.

  Chapter Seven

  Mrs. Annesley’s laughter broke through my daydream. Blinking, I turned from the carriage window to meet my companion’s gaze, my eyes wide and questioning.

  “You truly have not attended a word I have said.” The older lady laughed again as I shook my head.

  I felt the heat rise in my cheeks as I reluctantly admitted I had not been listening. “Forgive me?” I asked penitently.

  “Of course, my dear. I am so pleased to see you happy as you have been during our time here in Hertfordshire. I believe the Bennet ladies are a wonderful influence upon you, particularly Miss Elizabeth.” Mrs. Annesley waited patiently for me to reveal my thoughts and expectations, and I did not wish to disappoint her.

  “Miss Elizabeth is wonderful, is she not? I know she would be the perfect wife for my brother, and I would love to call her sister.” I bit my lower lip and turned back toward the window.

  “What worries you, Child?” my companion asked as she laid a reassuring hand upon my arm.

  “Fitzwilliam is not accompanying us again today; and he and Mr. Bingley were absent most of yesterday when the Bennets visited Netherfield. I thought he would wish to spend time with Miss Elizabeth, but he appears reluctant to be in her presence. However can he court her if he is never near her? I do not understand why he does not simply ask her to marry him.” I dropped my head back against the cushions and frowned.

  Mrs. Annesley’s expression became more serious as she turned a worried gaze upon me. “Miss Darcy, we have spoken regarding courtship. Your brother is behaving as a proper gentleman should. He must consider more than simply your wishes or his own desires. The future Mrs. Darcy will have much responsibility. She must see to the well-being of the tenants at Pemberley, and she must be accepted within the first circles of high society. If she is not, it will be very difficult for you, your brother, and future generations.”

  “But Elizabeth would be the best wife for Fitzwilliam. When he is with her, he smiles and is no longer so morose. She cares deeply for all those about her. There are few who dislike her, and those who do are jealous of her.”

  “Precisely. You must realize there are many within the ton who have sought your brother’s favour over the years. How do you suppose they would treat Miss Elizabeth should she and your brother come to an understanding?” Mrs. Annesley tipped her head to the side and waited for a response.

  “Much the way Miss Bingley treats her,” I muttered softly.

  “Suppose they would snub Miss Elizabeth? It could affect you more than you realize.” Taking a deep breath, she pressed on. “Would your aunts, Lady Catherine and Lady Matlock, accept her openly?”

  “Oh, Lady Catherine would be furious!” I lifted my hand to my lips and began chewing upon a nail.

  Taking my hand in her own, Mrs. Annesley lowered it back to my lap and smiled. “I believe Miss Elizabeth would not be concerned with her Ladyship’s response, but your brother would not want you to be ill affected by his choices. You must give him some time to know his heart, and trust him to do what is best. The cost could be considerable.”

  Silently I considered the lady’s words as we passed through Meryton and turned toward Longbourn. I understood them to be correct, but I began to fear Fitzwilliam would make the wrong choice. If he refused to see what was before him, then I must do something drastic to bring them together.

  ***********

  When the Darcy carriage drew to a halt before the front entrance of Longbourn, a footman stepped forward and lowered the steps, then assisted us out. As we approached the door, it opened upon a smiling Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper.

  “You’ve been expected, Miss. The ladies are in the front parlour.” Mrs. Hill took our outerwear, passing it to a young maid, before leading us down the hall.

  “It is so quiet,” I marvelled to my companion.

  Chuckling softly, Mrs. Hill nodded her head. “The youngest Miss Bennets are in town, Miss. I expect they’ll return soon and it will be much as it always is once more.”

  “Oh.” I glanced at Mrs. Annesley who returned my smile. No matter how frequently we were at Longbourn, the informal manner of the family and servants surprised me.

  My mother had died when I was young and, in many ways, I was raised by the housekeeper at Pemberley, Mrs. Reynolds. The woman was quite motherly toward me in private, but would never speak so to visitors. That being said, when the Netherfield party had attended a dinner at Longbourn a few days earlier, all was as it should be, without a
hint of impropriety. It was almost as though everyone had worn a mask for that evening.

  Mrs. Hill opened the parlour door and announced us. We were quickly drawn into the room and conversations began to flow easily. As had become custom, Mrs. Annesley and Mrs. Bennet sat to one side discussing whatever drew our hostess’ attention while Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and I gathered on the sofa. Today Miss Mary was in attendance as well and we spoke of music.

  Each of us was in such grand spirits as the discussion turned to the upcoming ball at Netherfield, that no one noted the passing of time. When finally the hall clock chimed the hour, we all were surprised at how long we had been in company.

  “See, Jane?” Elizabeth winked at her eldest sister. “It is as I said. Mrs. Hill considers Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley family. If anyone else, other than perhaps Charlotte Lucas, had been here; she would have cleared the tea and made certain all knew it was time to leave.”

  My eyes widened. “She is not so informal to all who visit?”

  “Gracious, no.” Elizabeth laughed at the thought. “Can you imagine how Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would respond were Mrs. Hill to smile at them when they arrived? No, Mrs. Hill is a good soul, but she knows who is most receptive to the well wishes of a servant.”

  Before I could respond, the front door banged open and a loud commotion ensued. Our group jumped to our feet, but had taken only a few steps when the door to the hall burst open and Miss Kitty, Miss Lydia, and three officers spilled into the room.

  “Lord, I suspect we made it just in time!” Lydia exclaimed as she rushed toward the window. “Look! You can see the rain that was chasing us!”

  Others joined her and noted the sheet of rain moving determinedly toward Longbourn.

  She gushed on, “The clouds had turned so dark that Captain Carter suggested the officers escort us home. We thought we might not make it before being thoroughly drenched, but Mr. Wickham cried ‘Run!’ and so we did. And here we are safe and dry just in time.” As if in agreeance, the rain and wind began to beat against the windows and the group moved closer to the hearth.