“My brother would not have married someone who principally cared for his fortune. He is too wise.”
Elizabeth laughed sharply at that.
The few birds who had not left for winter, and which perched amongst the branches, took off fluttering at the sound.
“He is,” Georgiana replied stiffly. “Youdon’t. You dislike it.”
“I…” There wasn’t really much to say to that. “I do notdislikeDarcy’s fortune…”
“You do. It is present every time you think about spending money on anything but the pleasure of others. Your face twists up in a certain way, and you say, ‘Yes, but I hardly thinkthatis really necessary.’ — half the time you talk to Mrs. Reynolds you say that. Do you not understand yourself? Prior tothis argument about your sister and Mr. Bingley the only time you ever argued with Fitzwilliam was because you would not spend more on dresses.”
“I… ah… I still insist it isnothis wealth assuchthat I dislike.”
“Then spending it.” Georgiana waved her hand to dismiss the distinction. “Or you are frightened that people will think you only married my brother for his fortune, so you wish to prove that was not your motive —oh. Your father said that to you? And that is why it touches you to the quick?”
Elizabeth pursed her lips.
“Slow down,” Georgiana said. “I can scarcely keep up with you when you pace so fast.”
“It is odd, since you have longer legs.” Elizabeth forced her pace to a stroll.
“You aren’t, and you know you aren’t, and I know you aren’t, and my brother knows you aren’t,” Georgiana said.
Mr. Darcy certainly knew thatnow. “Papashouldhave known.”
They were both silent for a while.
Elizabeth added. “Evennow, he doesn’t know. Papa apologized for what he said, but he also wrote that he can barely reconcile my having used my feminine allurements to entice a man into marriage for his fortune with his understanding of my character. He should have realized thatit wasn’t in my character to do that.”
By the end Elizabeth was nearly shouting. Any birds that had settled back on their perches flapped away once more.
Georgiana squeezed her arm.
After they’d walked on a good ways, Georgiana said quietly, “My Papa should not have died when he did. He was barely past fifty.”
That night Elizabeth sat down next to a small desk inthe drawing room, while Georgiana played cheerful melodies to encourage her.
Dear Papa,
I was terribly insulted, injured, and hurt.
Not because of what you said, but far more because I did not deserve any of it.
The solution to the mystery of how my character allowed me to behave in such a manner is simple: I did not. There was no scheme, just animal attraction, coincidence, and too much wine. He kissed me out of a drunken impulse because he had come to admire me greatly.
I permitted that kiss because without knowing it myself, I had come to admire him — I perhaps ought to have realized that I had a strong interest in him from how often I thought fiercely upon my dislike for him. Do they not say that hate is oft close to love?
It was an accident, not a scheme, that led Mama and Lady Lucas to open the door before we had come to our senses. If we had a minute more alone, I think Mr. Darcy would have angrily offered marriage to me — angrily because while he admired me, he is still fully conscious that I am a bad match in material terms, and I would have refused him, because I did not know his virtues then.
That is the true story of what happened.
I am still angry at you.
Your apology cannot wipe away my memory of what you said, and of the way that when I turned to you, when I needed your protection, when I was more unhappy and scared than I ever had been in my life, that you stabbed me. I never expected you to behave in such a way, and it is irrefutable that you did in fact speak to me with harshness, scorn, and insults when I needed you.
Elizabeth stared at the blackness behind the window. Georgiana had started an Irish jig.
It made her think of a dance.
