by Leenie Brown
Mrs. Annesley nodded.
Jane’s brows furrowed. “But what of Miss Darcy?”
Mrs. Annesley chuckled. “Did Miss Bingley imply that Mr. Bingley was attached to Miss Darcy?”
Jane nodded.
“He is not,” Mrs. Annesley said before taking a sip of her tea.
“Oh.”
With that one word, for the second time since Mrs. Annesley and Georgiana’s arrival at the Gardiners, a Bennet sister seemed lost for words.
“I am certain Mr. Bingley’s lack of attachment to Miss Darcy was not your purpose in calling today,” Mrs. Gardiner prompted.
“No.” Georgiana placed her cup on the table beside the sofa on which she sat. “Although, your nieces and some information I discovered through Mr. Bingley are the reasons for our call.” She drew in a breath. “It was mentioned to me that there was a particular gentleman who had joined the militia who is known very well to my family.” She paused to give her heart a moment to calm.
“Mr. Wickham?” Elizabeth asked.
Georgiana nodded and glanced uneasily at her companion.
“You do not have to say anything,” Mrs. Annesley whispered.
Georgiana shook her head. “No, I must,” she replied to Mrs. Annesley before turning back to Elizabeth. “There are things you should know about him. Things that neither my brother nor Mr. Bingley would ever tell you.” She blew out a breath. This was even more difficult than she had imagined it would be. “You must not tell my brother I have said anything. I will tell him eventually.” She wished to stand and pace the room or flee it, but she did not. Instead, she twisted her fingers together tightly and continued. “He does not know we have come to call on you,” she said to Mrs. Gardiner, “and he will, no doubt, be displeased when he discovers it.”
She stopped once again and drew a calming breath. “I apologize, it is difficult to speak of one’s foolishness,” she said in explanation for why she was dabbing at the tears that had gathered in her eyes. “Mr. Wickham’s father was my father’s steward, and so I have known Mr. Wickham all my life. He was always kind to me when I was young. He would tease and tell stories, and he would occasionally sneak an extra cake out of the kitchen to share with me. To me, he was a trusted friend. Then, he left to go to school, and I did not see him for many years. His father died, and then so did mine.” She crumpled her handkerchief in her hands. Her heart was beginning to slow its pace as she spoke. “I was not aware of the provision my father had left to Mr. Wickham or his refusal of the living at Kympton –”
“His refusal of the living?” Elizabeth interrupted.
“Yes,” Georgiana replied. “As I understand it from both my brother and my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam — he shares my guardianship with my brother — my brother gave Mr. Wickham a generous sum of money in place of the living. I do not know all the details. My cousin told them all to me this past summer, and I remember some of them. However, at the time when I found them out, I was too distraught to commit them all to memory.”
Georgiana looked down at her hands. “You see, until this past summer, I still thought Mr. Wickham a trusted friend. When staying in Ramsgate with my former companion, I happened to meet him again. I had not seen him in years, well before I began thinking of gentlemen as handsome.” She could feel her cheeks growing warm. “He was very handsome and as charming as ever. It was a pleasure to stroll on his arm and talk to him of home and his adventures at school. I soon found myself fancying myself in love with him, so in love with him, that I agreed to run to Scotland with him and become his wife. I knew that my brother would never allow me to marry so young, but I was certain that Mr. Wickham was my one true love, and I was his.”
Georgiana took a deep breath and lifted her eyes to Elizabeth. “He was not my true love, nor did he care for me beyond my money. My brother arrived unexpectedly, and when the truth of what I had planned was discovered, he vowed that should I elope, not one farthing of my money would be given to my husband. He would see that I was cared for, but my husband would get only me and naught else.”
Georgiana could see the horror in Elizabeth’s eyes. “It sounds harsh, I agree. I was furious with Fitzwilliam, and, after a time of tears in my room, I descended to the study to tell him that I did not care if he kept every bit of my money. I loved George and would marry him though I was penniless.” She shook her head. “I can still hear Mr. Wickham’s laugh and words as I pushed the door open and heard him talking to my brother. ‘Take her without a pound to her name?’ he said, ‘I would not take her for less than twenty thousand.’ When I gasped, he turned on me with a cold laugh and said ‘Surely, you did not think I loved you, did you?’ I ran from the room. I am not certain what happened after that.” Shaking her head, she continued. “I was so foolish, so duped, and utterly broken-hearted, but I was saved from a life of misery, of that I am certain.”
Silence reigned in the room for a full minute before Mrs. Gardiner spoke. “You poor dear,” she said. “How horrible.”
Georgiana gave her a sad smile. “I have not spoken of this to anyone besides Mrs. Annesley, my brother, and my cousin; however, when Mr. Bingley told me that Mr. Wickham was in Hertfordshire and had made friends with a lady my brother admires, I could not let that lady fall victim to his pretty words.”
Chapter 4
Not knowing what to say or how to feel, Elizabeth sipped her tea slowly as she considered what she had heard. The way Miss Darcy had wrung her hands, flushed, and fought tears during her tale made it impossible for Elizabeth to brush the facts away as a fabrication.
She lifted her teacup to her lips and allowed the warm beverage to flow over her tongue and down her throat as she swallowed. It amazed her how Miss Darcy could share such a story. If it had been Elizabeth who had been duped by a cad and come so near to ruin, she would have had to have a very compelling reason to share it. She shook her head slightly before she took another sip of tea. Conversation swirled around her almost as freely as her thoughts twisted and turned in her mind.
There must have been a very compelling reason for Miss Darcy to share such a story with a complete stranger. What had she claimed to be her reason? Elizabeth swallowed the last of her tea. Miss Darcy had said it was because Elizabeth was a lady Mr. Darcy admired and therefore, Miss Darcy did not wish to see come to any harm. Elizabeth rose without a word, placed her cup and saucer on the tea tray, and returned to her seat.
Could it actually be true that Mr. Darcy admired her? Elizabeth’s brows furrowed as she attempted to reason away Miss Darcy’s claim, but finally, she had to admit that, if Miss Darcy’s story about Mr. Wickham was true, then presumably her comment regarding her brother’s admiration was true as well.
She considered all that Mr. Wickham had told her. According to Miss Darcy, Wickham had not been injured by anything other than his own actions. The living had been refused. A payment made in its place. And Miss Darcy, the girl that he said was proud and cold was anything but! No wonder Mr. Darcy had looked so angry when he met Wickham and replied so harshly when questioned about the man. Mr. Wickham had attempted to seduce his sister! Oh, how wrong had she been? Had every word of it been a lie? Had she truly been so easily led?
“Mr. Wickham has not been harmed by your brother?” Elizabeth asked when the conversation about something lapsed into silence. She had no idea what topic was being discussed as she had not yet been able to attend to anything more than the troubling thoughts filling her mind.
Georgiana shook her head. “No, he has not. Mr. Wickham has been disappointed by my brother, but he has never been injured by him. Fitzwilliam has always treated him fairly.”
Elizabeth nodded and slipped back into her reverie about the conversations she had had with Mr. Wickham. Oh, why had she not questioned his words more? Blind belief was not her normal wont. How eager she had been to hear someone speak ill of Mr. Darcy! And for what reason? To assuage her own wounded pride? To assure herself that she was indeed better than Mr. Darcy had declared? That in so
doing, it could be confirmed that his character was wanting, and he was not the sort of man she should long to have notice her?
“I apologize for unsettling you.” Georgiana had risen and slipped onto the sofa beside Elizabeth.
“It is startling,” Elizabeth replied. “He spoke with such confidence.”
“Mr. Wickham is very good at crafting tales. I should know as I was completely fooled by them.”
Elizabeth looked at the hand that had taken hers and was squeezing it in a comforting fashion.
“I think,” Miss Darcy continued, “that he succeeds because we, ladies such as you and I, are agreeable and friendly with a trusting nature.”
Oh, Miss Darcy’s words stung! If only she had been agreeable and friendly instead of intent on soothing her pride by hearing anything that would justify her contempt of the man who had injured her.
She shook her head. “No, it is not my goodness that granted Mr. Wickham his success.”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and looked at the others in the room. She would rather not confess her errors to anyone but Jane, if even her. However, she could not deny the pangs of conscience that smote her as Miss Darcy attempted to reason away Elizabeth’s culpability in believing Wickham’s tales. Therefore, after expelling one breath and drawing another, she began her confession.
“It was my desire to find fault with Mr. Darcy that caused me to believe Mr. Wickham.” Once again, she shook her head at her own foolishness. “Why I did not listen to Jane’s cautions, I do not know.”
She saw the furrowing of Miss Darcy’s brow and the concern in her eyes and squeezed the young lady’s hand that still held hers.
“That is not true. I chose not to listen because my pride was injured.”
“Not without just cause,” Jane interjected. “No lady’s pride would be unscathed by such a slighting comment.” She looked around Elizabeth to Miss Darcy and then to Mrs. Annesley. “It was at the assembly when the Bingleys had just arrived in the Hertfordshire. We were all eager to meet them, of course. It is not every day a new neighbour takes his place in our small community. The town was welcoming, and Mr. Bingley returned their fervour in kind. His sisters and your brother, however, were not as enthusiastic to have met our acquaintances.”
“Mr. Darcy is not always comfortable in new surroundings,” said Mrs. Annesley.
“No, he is not,” Georgiana added her agreement. “He had not wished to leave me, although, I assure you, just I did him, that there was no reason he needed to stay with me. He, of course, did not agree.”
“I can understand that,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “If my child had been through an ordeal such as you had, my dear, I would be in no hurry to be parted from them until I was absolutely certain they were recovered.”
Georgiana smiled. “That sounds very much like his protest about leaving. However, he felt obliged, and I insisted he go. Fitzwilliam can be rather surly when he is forced to do what he does not wish, but that does not excuse rudeness, and you said he was rude, did you not?”
Jane nodded.
“Mr. Bingley suggested to him that he should dance with me,” Elizabeth said, taking up the story where Jane had left off.
“Oh, dear,” Georgiana muttered.
Elizabeth expelled a breath and closed her eyes for a brief moment before continuing. “Mr. Darcy turned, looked toward me and said ‘She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me.'” Elizabeth’s cheeks felt as if they were on fire. Those words still stung. She had worn her best dress and had her hair styled just as Jane had suggested because it was most becoming. She had hoped to make a good first impression, which was something that was not easily done when one was always compared to such a beautiful older sister. It was not a complete impossibility, however, and Elizabeth had felt she had succeeded that night. She had even been complimented on her looks by many in attendance. Yet, in spite of her efforts, the fascinating and handsome Mr. Darcy had dismissed her as if she were a faded pair of boots, only good for an occasional walk about the country on a muddy day.
Georgiana gasped. “How despicable! And untrue! Oh, he is such a curmudgeon at times!” she cried before she snapped her mouth closed and apologized.
“His words are most certainly untrue,” said Mrs. Annesley. “You are a very handsome young woman, and I will be so daring as to say my employer knows it.”
Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. Mr. Darcy had time and time again studied her appearance with a lofty air. Was he not looking to find fault or to prove his words from their first meeting correct?
“I am sorry,” Mrs. Annesley said in reply to Elizabeth skeptical look. “I am certain that I am correct. In fact, I will shock you further by suggesting he finds you handsome enough to tempt him into considering marriage.”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide, and a small sound of disbelief escaped her. “That cannot be. I am not good enough for his notice let alone his consideration as a wife!”
Mrs. Annesley’s smile in response was very similar — annoyingly so — to the one Aunt Gardiner used when she knew Elizabeth was incorrect in her reasoning.
“Truly, you are mistaken,” Elizabeth added. Mr. Darcy had made it clear beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was deficient, had he not?
“I will allow that I might be wrong, but I highly doubt it,” Mrs. Annesley replied.
“Oh, she is not wrong,” Georgiana added. “Even Mr. Bingley knows that Fitzwilliam admires you.”
“It cannot be.” Elizabeth shook her head. It could not be true, could it?
“You do not hold my brother in high regard, do you?”
Elizabeth’s heart skittered and thumped. How did one answer such a question honestly without causing pain to a girl who so obviously loved her brother?
“Do not worry about offending me,” Georgiana added as if reading Elizabeth’s mind. “I would not like him much myself if he had said such a thing about me.”
Elizabeth saw a curious look that she could not quite decipher pass between Miss Darcy and her companion, which was followed by a small nod of Mrs. Annesley’s head.
“Would you be willing to give Fitzwilliam a second chance?” Georgiana asked. “He is not always as discontented and dour as he likely was when at Netherfield.”
Elizabeth shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose I could.” How could she say anything else? Miss Darcy was looking at her so hopefully. It would not be so bad a thing to attempt to like Mr. Darcy to keep from offending his sister. There was little harm in being civil after all, was there not?
“Excellent!” Georgiana cried. “I shall tell him that I have met you, and if he does not flee to Pemberley, I will send a note inviting you to tea — all of you, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Mrs. Gardiner. I would be delighted to have such pleasant company for an afternoon.” Though her mouth was open as if she were going to continue speaking, she did not do so immediately. Her brows drew together, and her expression became somewhat distraught. Then she shook her head and smiled. “I shall just have to find a way to deal with Miss Bingley if she arrives. All will be well. I hope.”
Mrs. Annesley stood. “It has been a delight to meet you, Mrs. Gardiner, and your nieces.”
“Yes, indeed it has been a pleasure of the greatest sort,” Georgiana agreed.
The sentiment was echoed by Mrs. Gardiner, Jane, and Elizabeth, as was polite. However, Elizabeth’s still befuddled mind was not certain if it was either a pleasure or a delight to have met Miss Darcy and her companion as it seemed she was going to be thrown together with a disagreeable, though handsome, man who supposedly and surprisingly admired her. But then, her mind contradicted, it had been an interesting meeting, and she had to admit she was curious to see Mr. Darcy at his home where he might be in a better humor. Added to that was the fact that she rather liked Miss Darcy and would like to see her again. If only her mind would settle on how to think and feel.
“I will send a note even if Fitzwilliam does fly off to Pemberley,” Miss D
arcy assured them and, with that, Elizabeth’s guest, who had borne such unsettling news with her, was gone, leaving Elizabeth to ponder all she knew of Mr. Darcy in as much solitude as a sister and aunt would allow.
Chapter 5
Two days later, Georgiana poked her head around the door to her brother’s study.
“Come,” he said with a smile.
“I am pleased to see you have not gone to Pemberley,” she began.
He shrugged. “I would miss you too much,” he admitted. It was true. He had no desire to be parted from her for any length of time, and he knew that sending her to stay with Lady Matlock would not be helpful for Georgiana’s state of mind. His aunt was well-intentioned and doting, but she was also fixated on making proper matches and sharing the latest and most scandalous news of the ton. In his opinion, neither would be beneficial to his sister after her recent ordeal — no matter what Georgiana might claim to the contrary.
Therefore, after a frank discussion about Miss Elizabeth Bennet with his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, over a bottle of port and a game of billiards, he had come to realize that staying in town would be the best for all. Richard had assured him that running from a problem was not the most successful way of overcoming it. Instead, he suggested, Darcy should face and vanquish the problem. This last bit of advice had Darcy considering returning to Netherfield as he had promised.
If he could put Elizabeth from his mind for the next two weeks, then he could surely return knowing that he had merely been infatuated. That was if he could put her from his mind. If he could not, well, then a new strategy might need to be employed whereby he could keep his word to Bingley.
“You truly are not going?” Georgiana asked hopefully.
“No, I am remaining here.”
“Good,” Georgiana replied with a smile, eying a letter with familiar writing on it laying open on her brother’s desk. “Is Mr. Bingley returning to town?”
Darcy’s brows rose, and his head tipped to the side. “Why would you expect him to return so soon?”
