“The rules of having the role of an older sister require that I tell you that you will find a different gentleman who shall appeal to you, and understand you, and value you for your heart and your mind, and you will one day be happy, and Mr. Wickham will be nothing but a distant, and rather sillymemory.”
“You really think I might marry one day? — I thought… who would be willing to marry a girl who did such a thing?”
“Who once agreed to an elopement?” Elizabeth asked slowly. “Did you do anything, beyond…ah, making an agreement to elope? With Mr. Wickham.”
Georgiana flushed very, very red. “You mean! Oh, no. No. We kissed… and he…” She flushed very red. “Lady Matlock asked me very particular questions when we all were settled in London, and she was satisfied that…” Georgian spoke very, very fast suddenly, and in a quiet voice, hiding her face in her hands. “Nothing he did to me could leave a child or make it impossible for me to marry.”
“Ah, I see,” Elizabeth said. “Then nothing is of issue.”
“ButImade this mistake. And I could never marry someone if I did not tell them all of these details first. It would not be… it would not be a fair bargain.”
“Fair bargain? Youandyour brother? Where did you both gain this notion that marriage is abargain?Anyone worthy of you will love you, even after they learn that you did a very silly thing when you were fifteen — I note that I hope to keep you here as my sister at least until you are eighteen.”
“You mean that?” Georgiana’s eyes were wide and glowing.
“Maybe nineteen,” was Elizabeth’s smirking reply.
“No, that you see me as a sister.”
Elizabeth nodded. “In law, and you are becoming one in heart as well.”
Georgiana squealed and embraced Elizabeth tightly. “I always wanted a sister — and now you know my darkest secrets and you still love me. I am so happy.”
Despite all that had happened during the day, Elizabeth felt warm as well.
Chapter Fourteen
Following a wordless instinct that demanded he avoid that which was painful, and living with his blind desperation to beaway, Darcy grabbed his horse and rode directly south.
How could she not love him if he loved her?
Why, why, why?
Her words echoed in his head:I didn’t choose this.
She didn’t want him. She never had wanted him. She said that she wished she had never married him.
This was the sole point around which his thoughts revolved for the first fifteen miles of his ride. But after he’d had to bring the horse back to a canter, down from its earlier gallop, his mind started working around the question in more detail.
It was not, strictly, true, he noted to himself that shehadto marry him.
She said that it was to avoid the rumors and damage that would be done to her sisters when it spread around the town that she had been kissed by him.Thatwas a thing that was to her benefit.
Pedantry and lawyering.
The only reason she faced that choice, to either marry a man she disliked or leave the reputation of herself and her sisters in tatters was because he’d pressed his kiss upon her.
She’d said it had been a mistake to marry him.
After everything, after the way he thought… he thought she took pleasure with him as much as he did with her. They… she had been his wife. They had lived together, they had met his relations, she had become Georgiana’s friend. Mrs. Reynolds liked and respected her.
They had joined together in bed nearly every night.
And after all that.
Allthat.
After all that she still said it had been a mistake to have married him.
