She jumped from the last rung of the ladder before she smoothed her skirt in an attempt to appear dignified. The smile on his face said he had seen plenty of the undignified behavior in which she had just partaken. It was no use denying her pleasure. “I did enjoy myself, thank you. It was a bit of exercise, however. Would you like some tea?”
“I would love some.” He wanted to reach for her and tuck her arm around his but he resisted. The sight of her smile and the faintest blush made things difficult enough. He rung the servants’ bell before he moved a few books off the couch, motioning for her to sit down. He wasn’t quite strong enough to take a different seat, and so found himself sitting next to her. “So what brought you to the library? It is in such disarray that I am sure you were not looking for a specific book.”
She gazed around at the stacks of books all over the room before she smiled. “I was hoping to find a romance novel, but I doubt the great Pemberley Library has many of those. I admit, though, that I was immediately distracted and did not do much looking.”
He let out a laugh. “I may not own too many, but Georgiana has plenty! I must admit not all of them are that bad.”
“You read them?” She was sure her shock was evident on her face.
He cleared his throat and did not meet her eye for a moment. “William Cowper says that ‘variety is the very spice of life, that gives it all its flavor,’ so yes, I read a wide variety of things. I find myself a little— some might say too much— protective of the people I love and I do not want Georgiana to be reading things that are inappropriate for a young girl’s eyes.”
Something he said tickled at her brain, but she couldn’t quite place what it was. Why couldn’t she unravel the mystery? The way he spoke made her blush slightly. Why am I blushing? I knew he was a devoted brother!
The tea came in and they talked all the way until lunch. The time seemed to pass quickly in each other’s company. Mr. Darcy knew the servants were probably holding the lunch meal for them, but he wanted to address a question with her first. “I was wondering if you have gotten a chance to talk to Georgiana yet. She seems uncomfortable in my presence lately, and although we are close, I am under the impression she does not want to confide in me what troubles her.”
His brows were furrowed and she felt a little guilty that she hadn’t found the right time to approach her yet. “I did ask Mrs. Reynolds for some help with it. I planned on speaking with her today. Mrs. Reynolds mentioned that you usually hold an Autumn Festival and that Georgiana enjoyed that sort of thing.”
“I confess I had not thought about it, but that sort of thing may very well help lift her spirits. How do you feel about taking on such a project so early on in our marriage?”
The way he so casually said “our marriage” made goosebumps form on her arm, and she raised her hand to rub them away. It took a moment to refocus her mind on his question. “I feel I am probably inadequately prepared to take it on by myself, but Mrs. Reynolds will be an invaluable asset. I think we should host an Autumn Festival, if that is acceptable to you.”
“I think it sounds wonderful!” He thought of how he would be able to dance with her again, but forced his mind back to the question at hand. “Come, Georgiana is probably waiting to eat, and I imagine that the servants have lost us. I doubt anyone would think to look for us here.”
Elizabeth stood and Darcy handed her a book from a pile on the table. Sense and Sensibility, by a Lady. This should do, she thought, and rewarded him with a smile. “Thank you,” she said.
*****
After lunch, Elizabeth walked to the music room where she heard Georgiana playing halfheartedly. Now was as good a time as any to approach her about her mood. Elizabeth still had her new book with her but didn’t want to miss being able to discuss whatever was bothering her by putting it in her chambers. She walked in, gazing around the room before she took a seat next to Georgiana on the piano bench. Although Georgiana shifted over, she still continued playing. Elizabeth set her book in her lap before she reached over and turned a page of the music.
Georgiana hadn’t intended to play long, but she sensed that Elizabeth had a purpose in coming in to hear her play, and she didn’t want to talk yet. She urged more feeling into her fingers, letting them dance across the ivory keys. Soon she was feeling the release from concerns that she usually did when she played. It had been so long since she felt that emotional release she got from delving into her music with all her soul. When she finished the first piece, she immediately began another. She hoped that Elizabeth would get the hint and leave her to her music. As she played, however, Elizabeth simply turned the pages or listened quietly when it was a piece known by heart. She didn’t open her mouth once to interrupt or give praise. She simply listened. Georgiana found herself appreciating Elizabeth’s silence and listening ear. Would she listen as attentively if I talked to her about him?
Elizabeth had sat with Georgiana for over an hour and patiently waited for her to finish. This would take time, she knew, but what else did she have? The weather was still very wet outside and William was busy again in his study. As she listened she felt Georgiana change from restless and agitated, to soulful and intense, and now, as she listened, she could tell her new sister was relaxing into the song.
Georgiana’s fingers rested momentarily at the end of a piece, letting them decide on their own whether or not to continue. It was not a choice she intended or even desired to make, but they stopped playing. She sighed. If I must talk, I might as well get it over with. “Elizabeth, I know what you are going to say, and the answer is that I do not know if I can tell you.”
Elizabeth silently reached for her hands and held them.
Years of being a motherless child made opening up to someone difficult for Georgiana. It was even worse when her secret had to do with the shameful secret of Wickham. Elizabeth would listen, though, and hopefully understand. No matter how she divulged what was worrying her, Georgiana knew it would hardly cast her in the best light possible. “I received a letter from Mr. Wickham before your marriage.” Georgiana looked at Elizabeth, but Elizabeth’s face remained unchanging, still intent on simply listening to her. “I have it with me. I am too afraid to put it down and have someone, especially William, find it. He would be so upset.” She reached into her pocket and drew out a crumpled, tearstained letter.
Elizabeth’s brow furrowed up. She could tell the letter had been read many times and was crumpled and torn in some areas. She hadn’t thought much about Wickham since that dreadful night at Netherfield. She hadn’t seen him since then either. In truth, now she thought him nothing but a rake. She attempted to keep her face still. She did not immediately criticize Wickham, not when it seemed the girl still had feelings for him. Why else would she want to keep a letter from a former suitor— a suitor Mr. Darcy refused to give consent to, no less—so close to her for so long? This was going to be more complicated than she had initially thought.
“I know what you are thinking. It is not proper for me to accept a letter from a gentleman whom I have no understanding with, but it was not like that. I did not know who the letter was from. It just came one day while William went to get the special license in London. I would have never accepted a letter, and especially not one from that weasel. I should have handed it right over to William, but what he wrote worried me so much that I got confused about what to do. Promise me you will not show my brother?” She handed the letter over to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth’s frown etched itself more deeply into her brow. Mr. Wickham had claimed that they were in love and were going to get married, but it did not sound like Georgiana liked him in the least if she thought him a weasel. She remembered Georgiana’s fear at the ball, and the pieces began to fall together. Had Wickham tried to force himself on Georgiana? Or had something even worse occurred? “Dear, I am afraid I do not know your full history with the man. All I know is what he told me. He said you were in love and Mr. Darcy would not give his consent for you to marry.”
/> Georgiana let out a faint cry, her hands crashing against the keys. A discordant series of notes sounded. “Then you know nothing of Ramsgate? You know nothing of his conniving, evil, mercenary, selfish ways?” Elizabeth shook her head. Georgiana took a deep breath then told her of the near-elopement and how he wanted only her thirty-thousand pounds. Her voice cracked as she even told Elizabeth of the hateful things he said about her once it was made clear he would not receive any of the dowry. She focused back down on the keys again, feeling tears threaten, but Elizabeth needed to know precisely what sort of man Wickham was. She would need to know to understand the letter. She nodded towards the letter and said once again, “Promise me you will not show my brother?”
Why must the Darcys insist on all these promises! What if what is in the letter requires me to tell Mr. Darcy? “I told you I did not know his evil ways, but that was not entirely true. I confess that at first I found him charming, but later understood him to be nothing but a scoundrel. I have had my own encounter with him, and I assure you my opinions on the man are not good. It pains me to hear of what he did to you but it pleases me to hear you no longer care for him. It must have been a very difficult thing to experience. I must tell you though, that if you do not want me to tell Mr. Darcy, I do not know if I should read the letter. I am his wife . . .”
“Oh, it is not anything like that. I certainly do not want you to keep secrets from your husband, but I know how William feels about the man and it would only upset him.” Even as Georgiana sought to downplay the letter, she knew that it was nothing of the sort. If William knew about it, he would track Wickham down and perhaps even challenge him. She couldn’t risk her brother taking such a risk. For a moment, she contemplated snatching the letter from Elizabeth’s hand as her new sister opened it.
“I will read it,” Elizabeth said, and gazed steadily at her. “But would you mind giving me some time to think on whether or not Fitzwilliam should know about it?”
“Only if it is necessary . . . but I do not think it will be so. Will you please tell me first if you are going to show him the letter?”
Elizabeth unfolded the paper she held and turned it over in her hand. There were no markings on the outside of the letter. “Of course I shall tell you first what I decide. How did you receive it? It is not addressed to anyone in particular.”
“It came inside a separate paper which I have thrown away now. It was definitely addressed to me.”
Elizabeth nodded her understanding and read the following:
I find myself thinking about our time together not too long ago. Your eyes that last night together told me you think about me too. I must say that your body language that night spoke volumes. You need to know that I do not give up easily. You may be with Darcy now, but eventually I will come claim what should have been mine all along. I am sure you can find a way to stay my hand. If I remember correctly you have an active and creative mind. I look forward to hearing from you and seeing how much your heart can give. For now, you can send any correspondence through Mrs. Forester. She is a favorite of mine, and owes me a great deal. Do not fret too much on the issue; just do what comes naturally in your blood.
Until I hear from you, sincerely,
Your dear Mr. Wickham
“Oh dear, and you have kept this threatening letter all this time? When did you say it came? There is no date on it either.” Elizabeth let the letter drop to her lap. She did not know what to do in the matter. From her experience, Wickham could be quite forceful in his pursuits. She was reminded again just how forceful his lips had been that night on the balcony.
“It came a few days after the ball, after you and William got engaged. Oh please do not tell him about it. It has caused enough anxiety with me. We do not need to tell William about it!”
“Tell me what?” Mr. Darcy said lightly as he walked into the room. He assumed from their hushed tones that they had finally had their discussion. He could also see Georgiana look frantically from him and back to Elizabeth. He wished he could see Elizabeth’s face but her back was to him.
Elizabeth quickly slipped the letter into her book and winked at Georgiana before she turned and said, “Dear, you do not expect to be privy to your birthday present plans do you?”
She called me dear! He smiled brightly. “My birthday is not for two months! What can you possibly need two months to plan for?”
Georgiana had seen Elizabeth hide the letter and wink, but it did not help her anxiety. What if he had heard more than he let on? What if Elizabeth told him about the letter? She was very near bursting out in tears, but collected herself. “A duet on the piano,” she said weakly. She was never good at deceiving people and definitely not her brother.
Mr. Darcy did not miss that Georgiana did not meet his eyes. He knew the duet was not what they were discussing, but he also knew when to back down. He had enough faith in Elizabeth to know that if it was something he should know about then she would tell him. “Well then, I hope to hear something spectacular if you plan on practicing for two months!” He bowed and exited the room. Something was wrong, he knew, but he would trust Elizabeth in the matter.
After he left the room Elizabeth put her hands on Georgiana’s and said, “Give me some time to sort out what to do. But for now, I promise not to tell him.” Holding up her book, she added, “Do you mind if I keep this? I may need to study it a little, and from the sight of these frayed edges, you have studied it quite enough.”
“Certainly. And thank you for your discretion.”
*****
Things started to improve a little for Georgiana. Simply not having the letter on her person was a relief in itself, but she had to admit telling Elizabeth and not feeling the entire weight on her shoulders made things much better. She still felt terribly guilty, but that was something she needed to work out on her own. She even started going on a few walks since the weather had cleared up. One such afternoon Elizabeth offered to go with her.
“Elizabeth, may I ask you a question?” Georgiana said in the midst of their stroll.
“My dear sister, you may ask me anything. But I warn you my answers do not always come out with forethought, and have caught myself in terrible messes because of my impertinent tongue,” she said, smiling.
“Now that you know about Ramsgate, the question I pose will make more sense. I lost a great deal after Wickham tricked me . . . mainly my faith in the goodness of people. I used to think that everyone had good intentions and always sought to better themselves in any way possible. I now know that is not the case. I once thought that money did not matter, but I have learned it matters a great deal to some people. I once thought that one should listen only to the heart, and now I recognize how much of an asset a rational mind can be. I once thought that love came easily and naturally, but after Wickham, I did not know if there was such a thing as love. But now I am even more confused. I see the goodness in your love match with William and I wonder what is it like to really be in love?” Georgiana was a pace or two ahead of Elizabeth and didn’t notice Elizabeth’s open mouth and stunned features.
Love match? She thinks our marriage is a love match? What in the world made her think such a thing? Elizabeth was speechless for the first time in who knows how long. Obviously playing the “good wife” seemed to be working. People were believing the charade they were playing. Elizabeth went over her experiences with William and was struck with deep concern over Georgiana’s observation. Mr. Darcy may be kind to me; he may now even think me tempting at times or even drop money on me like it was effortless. He may enjoy spending time with me, and he may even feel a certain level of appreciation for me, but he does not love me! Certainly not. If he did, he would say so! Would he not? Why would he not?
She began to think of the coldness of his proposal which contradicted his caring gestures in the carriage after the wedding. Although he had promised not to bed her until she wished it, there would be moments where desire appeared in his eyes. Her mind couldn’t make sense of his behavior.
He had very nearly kissed her twice now, or at least that was what she had thought. His smiling eyes appeared more frequently than in the past, but all these things did not mean he loved her! He would have declared himself if he did! He was a very good man; indeed, a perfect gentleman. She now understood why the servants adored him, for he had a kind heart, one that reached out to the needy and less fortunate. He treated his servants like family. It struck her then.
She, too, was needy and less fortunate. He was simply treating her like any other person in the household. Her heart and mind were battling harder than ever. She thought about how he looked at her intensely with concern and kindness, but he was concerned and kind to his servants too! But, her heart argued, he says such nice things to me! Her rational mind reminded her that he said nice things to the servants as well. It was much easier to reason that he was simply being flattering and kind, rather than let her heart take the leap of faith that he loved her. Would he not have already declared himself if he loved her? There was no reason why he should not tell her if he felt such feelings for her. And he had not declared himself in any way. She had even asked why he married her but he refused to give an answer. Yet. Would this not have been the ideal moment to confess his love— if that love existed in any form?
Mr. Darcy's Promise Page 18
