by Ola Wegner
Mr. Gardiner's eyes narrowed. "Did someone else confirm this story?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "No, but Mr. Wickham was so sincere about it."
"I heard this story during our last visit at Longbourn a few times, and from several different people," Mrs. Gardiner said, gazing at her husband. "Mr. Wickham must have shared this tale with many in Meryton. I am certain that he would not be so eager to speak about his misfortunes from Darcy's hand if he happened to be serving in Derbyshire."
"You doubt Mr. Wickham's word?" Elizabeth asked.
"I do not know Mr. Wickham that well," her aunt stated. "All I saw was a young officer of great manners and charm. However, my father knew George Darcy, the late father of your Mr. Darcy, and he always spoke of him with the utmost respect. I simply find it hard to believe that old Mr. Darcy would raise his son in such a way that he would break his word once given."
Elizabeth looked between her aunt and uncle, her expression unbelieving. "Why are you taking his side over Mr. Wickham's?" she demanded. "Is it because Mr. Wickham's father was a servant? Do you hold this against him? You choose to believe Mr. Darcy's words because he is from nobility."
"You are unfair, Lizzy," Mr. Gardiner gave her a pointed look, a slight reprimand in his voice.
"I have nothing against Mr. Wickham's father being a servant," Mrs. Gardiner said calmly. "My own dear mother was a servant too, before she married my father."
"Forgive me, Aunt," Elizabeth said, embarrassed. "I just cannot comprehend why you are so against believing that Mr. Darcy might have done anything wrong."
The older woman put her arm around her niece, rubbing her arm. "Lizzy, dear, you have a kind, tender heart, and I perfectly understand why you believed in Mr. Wickham's tale."
"Elizabeth, you have an inclination to form your opinions about people too hastily," Mr. Gardiner spoke with conviction, supporting his wife. "I ask you to trust our judgment, dear. I have lived almost twice as long as you, and in my line of work, I have dealt with many wealthy men, such as Mr. Darcy. I know from my own experience that the ones who have much less tend to invent untrue stories about the more fortunate, because of their pettiness and simple human jealously. I do not believe that Mr. Darcy would have refused a living promised by his father to a servant if he had not had a valid reason for this. It is like pocket money for him."
"I suggest that you should ask Mr. Darcy about this matter so he can explain it to you from his standing. It is only fair," her aunt added.
Elizabeth just huffed, crossing her arms in disapproval.
Mrs. Gardiner shared a long look with her husband before speaking to her niece. "Lizzy, I know how pained you are with your Papa's death, but you must realize your current situation."
"Mr. Darcy told me that he wants to provide for your family," Mr. Gardiner told her. "He has promised to buy a house for your mother and secure your sisters’ futures."
Elizabeth stood up abruptly. "He wants to buy me then," she exclaimed. "He knows my situation, my reduced circumstances, and he wishes to purchase me like a horse, so I could breed him children."
"Elizabeth, do not be so vulgar!" Mr. Gardiner interjected, raising his voice slightly.
"Uncle, these are his own words," Elizabeth protested. "Can you guess what he said when he proposed? He told me that his is ready to overlook my lack of connections, and dowry, hoping that I would give him intelligent sons to run his estate in return."
The man rolled his eyes. "Do not be so melodramatic, Lizzy. Sometimes you resemble my sister more than I would wish to see in you. Darcy is a practical man. He values you; that should please you."
"It was not a very romantic thing to say though, Robert," Mrs. Gardiner pointed out softly, looking at her husband steadily. "I can see why Lizzy was offended by it. He could have put it in a more delicate way. He should have said that he admired her high spirits and her bright mind, the fact that she was well read, well mannered and could carry on a polite conversation."
"Women," Mr. Gardiner let out an exasperated sound. "He was only honest with her. He told her the truth—that he knew the differences between them, but still he wanted to marry her, because he cared enough for her to take the risk, probably going against his own family wishes and his common sense. If that is not romantic, I do not know what is."
"Uncle, cannot you see what he is doing to me?" Elizabeth cried, the tone of her voice turning desperate. "Do you not find it wrong? He lied to you by omission, making you believe that I accepted his suit when I did nothing of the kind. Does it not bother you?"
"Lizzy, child, you are not seeing matters as they are," Mr. Gardiner tried to placate her, "I do not say that Mr. Darcy is perfect, or that his conduct is always what it should be, but I have a good feeling about him. You should give him a chance, at least that. Talk to him, allow him to explain himself."
"You wish me to accept him then," she spoke quietly, dropping back on the sofa, her voice defeated.
"That would be very wise in your situation," Mr. Gardiner agreed. "Please remember your mother and your sisters. Darcy is willing to take care of them. Moreover, I am convinced that he loves you. I do not see any other reason why he would have taken so much trouble and been so generous to you if he did not."
"Aunt Madeline?" Elizabeth looked at Mrs. Gardiner with hope still lingering in her eyes.
"I must say that I agree with your uncle, Lizzy," the woman said, leaning closer to her. "I saw how he looked at you. It is as plain as day that he loves you very much and is willing to do everything in his power to make you happy with him. It is almost heart breaking to observe how he wants you to return his affections, how he begs with his eyes for a single look from you."
"You want me to accept him," Elizabeth repeated dully, staring blankly in front of herself.
The Gardiners looked at one another and replied together. "Yes."
Chapter Five
"Brother?"
Darcy heard his sister's surprised voice as he and Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the townhouse. As he looked up, he saw his sister on the landing of the staircase, dressed in her nightclothes, her blonde hair let down in a loose braid.
"Are you not asleep yet, sweetheart?" he asked warmly, smiling up at her.
"Brother!" she exclaimed, flying down the stairs, her long skirt fluttering as she moved.
"I did not expect you today." She lifted on her toes to embrace him.
"I hope you are well," he spoke, returning her hold, stroking her silky hair.
"I am well," she confirmed. "I am happy to see you. I have missed you."
"You could have come with me to visit Aunt Catherine," he reminded her.
Georgiana was very attached to him, which was perfectly understandable, considering how young she was when their father died, and she could not even remember their mother. She had always clung to him, even as a small child. His attempts to make her more independent, more self reliant, had ended badly. A cold shudder ran down his spine as he remembered her trip to Ramsgate last year. He had thought that spending part of the summer without him would be beneficial for her. How he regretted his decision now. How wrong he had been.
He saw her face fall slightly. "You know why I chose not to," she said uneasily, fidgeting her long, slim pianist's fingers. "I am grievously nervous around her."
"Will I not receive a similar welcome?" Colonel Fitzwilliam's merry voice boomed from behind. Darcy had to admit that his cousin always knew how to lift the mood.
"Cousin Richard, I am so pleased to see you," Georgiana beamed as she stepped to the older man, hugging him tightly.
"You look well, Flower," Colonel Fitzwilliam praised, using the nickname which he had called Georgiana when she was little.
"Where is Mrs. Annesley?" Darcy asked, frowning, as he referred to Georgiana's companion.
"She has already retired."
"And why are you not in bed?"
"I did not feel fatigued. I was reading in my room when I heard the carriage stopping in front of the
house," she explained.
"It is late, you should return to bed."
"I want to stay with you," she spoke shyly, her eyes pleading. "Please, I am not tired."
Darcy nodded. "Very well, Georgiana. We have yet to have dinner. Could you ask Cook to prepare a meal for us?"
He understood why Georgiana wanted to spend the evening with him; they had not seen each other for many weeks. Moreover, her presence was rather convenient, postponing the inevitable conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam. The men had not spoken about Jane Bennet in the carriage due to the presence of the maid, but Darcy was aware that his cousin was curious enough about the lady to broach the subject of her and Bingley's relationship again.
"Of course, with pleasure." Georgiana smiled happily, before hastily making her way to the back of the house.
Once Georgiana was clearly out of the earshot, Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to his cousin. "She seems much recovered," he noted as they entered the drawing room.
The servants were hurriedly rebuilding the fire and lighting the candles in the room.
Darcy sighed sadly, his heart heavy at the memory of the pain caused to his baby sister. "Yes, she is, but only with the closest family. She can barely talk when in company of someone she is not familiar with. She has lost her faith in people after what happened last summer."
The other man's face tightened, his lips pressed in thin line as he murmured, "I would kill him with my bare hands, if I could. Do you know what he is doing now?"
"I hear that he joined the militia, as an officer," Darcy said.
He hesitated for a moment whether to tell his cousin that he had seen Wickham last year in Hertfordshire, but then decided against it. Colonel Fitzwilliam did not really need to have the specific knowledge about Wickham's whereabouts, as long as the cad kept his distance from Georgiana. The fact that Wickham had not come to attend the Netherfield Ball, despite all the officers being invited, was enough proof that he had taken Darcy's threats seriously, and had no intention of approaching any member of Darcy’s family in the future.
There was also another reason why Darcy did not wish to even mention Wickham's name in the context of Hertfordshire and Meryton. For him personally, it could only bring back the painful memory of how Elizabeth had seemed to defend the bastard while they danced together at Netherfield. He had been so angry with her after that evening, that it had been very easy to make the decision to cut himself off from her, and leave the very next day, never coming back.
He had felt so proud of himself after his return to London from Netherfield. He had been strong enough to fight down the fatal attraction he had felt for Elizabeth Bennet. He had gone to pay a visit to Annette, his mistress, without delay to prove to himself that the little country Miss meant nothing to him. How terrified he had been when in the heat of the moment he heard himself crying Lizzy, strangely seeing dark brown hair instead of his lover's pale blonde.
Annette, always a professional, had been very tactful about his slip, but at the end of his visit, she asked whether she should start looking for another arrangement for herself. He had not seen her since last December, even though he still paid her allowance, keeping her available. He realized that he would have to pay Annette a visit soon to inform her about his upcoming nuptials, so indeed, she would have to search for another supporter.
Georgiana returned, putting the end to any discussion about Wickham. She was dressed again in one of her day dresses, but she had not pinned her hair up, and it was left in a braid.
She kept Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam company during their dinner as they ate their hot soup, cold meat and boiled vegetables with gusto.
"How are you doing, Flower?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked her, as they finished their meal while tea was served in the small parlour.
"I am well, Cousin Richard," Georgiana replied softly. "I am continuing with my studies, and my pianoforte practice. Mrs. Annesley and I go for a walk to the park every day, as long as the weather holds, understandably. I missed Brother though," she finished, looking warmly at Darcy.
"And not me?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, feigning hurt.
"Oh, you too, Cousin, you too," she assured quickly.
"Well, not long from now, you will have a new close friend," Colonel Fitzwilliam announced cheekily, glancing at Darcy.
Darcy frowned slightly, but then shrugged and nodded, knowing that his cousin was eager to announce the news to Georgiana. He had intended to tell his sister himself later, but she could very well hear about his marriage now.
"A friend?" Georgiana asked, confused.
"Yes, your brother here asked a certain young lady for her hand in marriage."
The girl set her bluish grey eyes at Darcy. "Truly?" she whispered.
"Yes," he answered simply, not being able to stop the bright smile coming on his face. "I finally found someone I want to share my life with."
Georgiana smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. "Congratulations," she croaked.
Both men gazed at her with worry.
"Is that Miss Caroline Bingley perhaps?" she asked fearfully.
Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled loudly, while Darcy presented the most horrified expression.
"Certainly not, Georgiana," he spoke haughtily. "Where did you get such an idea?"
Georgiana lowered her eyes to her lap, "When we spoke, she gave such impression…" she murmured uneasily, biting her lip, obviously not willing to continue.
"Who is it then?" she asked after a moment, frowning, before her expression changed into one full of hope. "Is it Miss Elizabeth, the lady you met while visiting Mr. Bingley, the one you talked about last winter?" she exclaimed. "The one you met again in Kent when she was visiting her friend, as I read in one of your recent letters."
"I did not talk about her that much," Darcy defended himself, clearly embarrassed.
"Perhaps not, but you mentioned her at least three times, if I recall correctly, and it is more than you have spoken to me about any other lady ever before," Georgiana reminded him quickly.
"She is right, Darcy," Colonel Fitzwilliam's laugh echoed through the room. "Miss Elizabeth has you wrapped around her little finger."'
"It is her then?" Georgiana beamed at her brother. "You proposed to Miss Elizabeth?"
Darcy felt the blush creeping on his face, and feeling that hotness in his cheeks, he reddened even more. "Yes."
"Oh, brother," Georgiana leaped from her seat, wrapping her arms around him, kissing his cheek. "I am so happy for you. I know how much you like her, your face looks so different when you speak about her."
Darcy cleared his throat, patting the girl on her back. "I am pleased that you approve."
As she sat back on the chair, her enthusiasm seemed to falter and soon she was asking worriedly. "Do you think that she will like me?"
"Of course she will," Darcy assured quickly with force in his voice. "Colonel Fitzwilliam was right that you would have a friend in her. Elizabeth has sisters of her own, and I am certain that she would welcome another one with an open heart."
The girl smiled shyly. "I hope so, brother," she said, before asking with eagerness, "When will I meet her?"
"Not soon, I am afraid," Darcy answered, serious again. "It is an unfortunate time indeed for Miss Elizabeth."
In short words, he explained the circumstanced of Mr. Bennet's sudden death.
"Please repeat my condolences to Miss Elizabeth," Georgiana insisted sincerely. "Tell her that I will pray for her in this difficult time."
"Of course, I am sure that she will appreciate your concern." Darcy smiled at his sister. "But now I think it is time for you to retire. It is quite late, after all, and your pianoforte instructor will be here rather early in the morning, I believe."
"Yes, brother," Georgiana, agreed sweetly, standing up and saying good night to the men.
"Well, I think that we should retire as well," Darcy said, as they were left alone.
"Not so hasty, Cousin," Colonel Fitzwilliam called as he stood up
and walked to the small bar. "I think you wished to explain some matters to me, about Miss Bennet and Bingley." He filled two tall glasses of brandy, handing one to Darcy while sipping from the other one.
Darcy shrugged, "I cannot imagine what more you want to know. You asked whether Miss Jane Bennet was the lady I advised Bingley not to marry, and I answered affirmatively."
"I do not understand you," Colonel Fitzwilliam said, sinking into a stuffed armchair, stretching his muscular legs out in front of himself. "You proposed to Miss Elizabeth, but you did not want her sister to marry your best friend. Where is the logic?"
Darcy downed nearly half of his drink at once. "Do we really have to speak about that? It is an old matter."
"Not so old as you want it to be, and I am sure it is the matter that Miss Elizabeth holds against you."
"You guessed then," Darcy commented without surprise.
"That was not particularly hard; it is obvious how close they are, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth. You did yourself an injustice with that thoughtless act," the other man observed.
"I know," Darcy murmured. "I knew that Miss Bennet was in London the whole winter, but I concealed the knowledge from Bingley. It was I, as well, who convinced him to abandon her in the first place. Now I will have to tell him about it and convince him to see her again. Elizabeth will not be happy if I do not bring them back together."
Colonel Fitzwilliam leaned forwards, gazing amusedly at his cousin. "You know, Cousin, I never thought that I would see you in such a situation - playing matchmaker just to please a woman. I rather enjoy it."
"Can you be serious for once?" Darcy muttered, as he walked to the bar to pour himself another drink.
"I have a confession actually, and it is rather serious," Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke.
"Oh," Darcy said distractedly.
"It seems that Miss Elizabeth learned about your intervention with Bingley and her sister from me."
Darcy dropped the glass onto the small table not so gently, spilling some of its contents on the polished surface. "What?"
