Anne glided over and stood directly in front of the colonel before gently leaning up and kissing his cheek. “Yes, you are. Go.”
Richard froze in place, his bluster dying at her touch. He could only stare.
With a twinkle in her eye, Anne repeated, “Go. I will explain all later.”
Their look held and a sweet smile edged at his lips before he said, “Come, Dr. Wiley. I require a strong drink,and you can join me if you wish.” The two men slowly walked out and closed the door behind him.
The remaining party stood in silence, each afraid of moving, not knowing which world they truly inhabited, their only proof having just left the room in his tall Hessians.
Frustration poured from Darcy’s lips. “Clarence…or whatever your name may be. It is time you told us the meaning of this trickery.”
The old doctor removed his spectacles before taking out a handkerchief. He meticulously wiped the glass, inspected it, and then replied. “There is no deception, Darcy. Only a way for you and those around you to understand that the lives we have been given provide more significance to others than we realize. If we all looked at our world through the eyes of those around us, we would determine we are more important than we believed.”
Georgiana’s voice cut through the room. “My brother would never wish to be anything other than a Darcy. Fitzwilliam is a man of honor who fulfills his role admirably.”
“No, Georgiana.” He shook his head and leaned forward on the edge of the bed. “I am not that man. If I were, you would never have gone to Ramsgate…”
“Brother! You will not blame my shortcomings upon yourself!” Georgiana cried. “Iam to blame for my almost ruin.Iam to blame for believing one of the most worthless men in all of England!Iam to blame for my silly romantic notions. Not you!” She clenched her fists on her lap. “Iam the one who should not have been born. Not you!”
“Georgie!”
“No,” she said, holding up her hand as tears began to well in her eyes. “It is true. I am a pampered, silly girl who knows nothing of the world around her. I can scarcely hold a conversation with our tenants, let alone someone of status. How will I ever succeed in society? If there was no Georgiana Darcy, you would not carry the added burden upon your life of a juvenile charge.” Her last words were cut short by a hiccup, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Without a thought, Darcy opened his arms, and Georgiana rushed into them, weeping. He shushed her and rocked back and forth as he did for so many years after their father died. He allowed her sobs to subside before finally pulling away and wiping her tears. “If you could only see yourself through my eyes. You are a marvelous young woman who will marry a good man and raise children. We have, all of us, made mistakes in our lifetime. You must put itbehind you and think on it no more. Only misery can come from such thoughts.”
Her hiccups slowed, and she wiped away the tears. “I do not deserve a brother as good as you.”
“But you do. Andthatis why I am here, inthislife. Is that not correct, Clarence?”
All eyes turned to the older man, who had sat in one of the chairs by the fire. “That is one of the reasons, Darcy. But there are others as well.”
“Such as?”
He smiled. “You are a good man. You have the power to ruin many lives, yet you do not. By your wishing not to be born, you removed the pure love and goodness from the world and allowed evil to win.”
“From the world? Clarence, that is ridiculous.”
“Is it? Think on it. With you never born, how did your sister fare? Your cousin? Mr. Bingley? And even extended further? What became of Pemberley? Of its tenants and servants? Do you not recall?”
“I was miserable, Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana said, putting her head on his shoulder.
“As was I,” echoed Anne. “Although, I did enjoy the independence.” A grin spread across her lips before Darcy turned back to the doctor.
“I still do not understand.”
“Do you not recall the words of the gypsy? ‘One man’s evil will unite those with the purest love. Do not abandon your destiny for false hopes. The purest love will always recognize your soul.’”
“The purest love.”
“But why does Richard not remember anything? He certainly loves my brother.”
“He had died young. And only those who feel the purest love for him, would remember.”
“So, Wickham does not remember?”
“No.”
“And Lady Catherine?”
