“The carriage was eventually found at the scene of a horrific accident. There were no survivors. My sister was brought back for burial, but Lieutenant Wickham’s body must have washed away in the river into which the carriage had overturned.”
“Wickham!” the exclamation shot from Darcy before he could stop. “George Wickham, fair-haired, originally from Derbyshire?”
Elizabeth startled at his eruption. “Yes, he was a tall blond-haired man. I recollect him mentioning something of Derbyshire. Did you know him?”
Her gaze swept between the siblings, seeing both Darcys had suddenly gone pale. Georgiana’s eyes fell to her hands folded on her lap. Elizabeth noted the knuckles were white from their tight grip. On the other hand, Mr Darcy no longer leant against the mantle; he stood tall, and his eyes blazed at Elizabeth.
“We did,” replied Darcy, his jaw tight. “He was not a good man.”
“No. He had all the appearance of a good man but was a snake underneath the charming facade,” Elizabeth’s tone was bitter. “When word got out about Lydia, the Bennets were shunned by the neighbourhood. My mother fell into melancholy at the loss of her favourite daughter, and her good standing amongst her friends. She never recovered and we lost her soon after. So you see, you may not wish to continue contact after we part ways.”
Georgiana loosened her own hands and reached over to grasp one of Elizabeth’s. “Wickham was a master manipulator. Your sister did not stand a chance, even if she knew better than to elope. I imagine the scheme was a romantic one in her eyes and perhaps believed she was fulfilling your mother’s wishes.” Georgiana gently squeezed the hand she was holding. “I should very much wish to remain friends with a lady who is brave and kind and has given birth to the sweetest little boy.”
Elizabeth chuckled and smiled sadly, “Ahh... The truth is revealed. It is my son you admire.”
“I admire you. Now, may I call you my friend and not some chance encounter I made at an inn?”
She sent a quick look to the man who stood stiffly beside the mantle. His expression was cold, yet he gave a quick nod of approval before looking away. Elizabeth hesitated before giving Georgiana a small smile, “It would be an honour, my friend.”
Claiming the need to check on her son and quite fatigued by the emotional evening, Elizabeth made her excuses and returned to her own room. After changing into a night-rail, she released Hannah with her thanks and laid down on the bed, staring at her boy.
I will raise you to be as admirable and brave as your father, my sweet one. Tears trailed down her cheeks as she cried for all the Bennets had lost because of one selfish, cad of a man.
~ / ~
When Elizabeth left the room, Darcy saw Georgiana was readying herself for a discussion, but he cut her off.
“Georgiana, it is late. We shall discuss this tomorrow. I suggest you rest well. It would be a shame to say something intemperate due to tiredness or petulance.”
“Petulance!” Georgiana practically squeaked. Darcy merely raised his eyebrows.
“Very well. But wewilldiscuss this tomorrow. I will have my say.”
Darcy hid his smile. His sister would not thank him should he point out how much like Lady Catherine she sounded in that moment. Then he sighed, for she also appeared very like their mother. “Very well. We will ride in the morning,beforeyou visit with Mrs Carrington.”
His expression was stern, which made her lips pinch. Still, she stood at her full height and with an imperial rise of her chin, she glided out of the room. “Good night, Fitzwilliam.”
As he readied himself for bed, after dismissing his valet, he had to admit the pride he felt for Georgiana standing up for herself and for her friend, outweighed the distress he felt upon hearing Mrs Carrington’s story.
Wickham again! Always that same vile thorn in his side. Hopefully the wretch really is dead and can no longer ruin any more lives.How different Mrs Carrington’s and her family’s lives would be, were it not for that blaggard.
Sleep was a long time in coming.
~ / ~
He and Georgiana broke their fast separately in their own rooms. When they met to go down to the inn’s stable yard, Georgiana was clearly tense and ready for an argument.
“Good morning, Sister,” he said, purposefully keeping his voice low and soft. “It is a beautiful morning with not a cloud in the sky. Rogers arranged for a packed repast for us to take. Let us ride out for a bit. We can then stop and rest the horses before returning.”
She sent him a tentative smile. “Good morning. That sounds like a fine idea.”
Nothing more was said between them until they rode out for a good half hour and stopped by a field with the remnants of blue bells, with a nearby stream for the horses to rest and drink. Darcy took off his great coat and laid it on the ground for them to sit on.
He grimaced, “I should have remembered a blanket.” Georgiana giggled and the last remnant of tension was broken. Consuming a muffin each, they were finally ready to discuss the serious issue which had arisen at dinner the previous day.
“Georgiana, I will listen to all you have to say, but pray, allow me to say this one thing. I do not wish to be high-handed and forbid you to remain in contact with Mrs Carrington, However, I expect you to do so only after you have considered all the implications.”
“Implications? For having Elizabeth as my friend?” Georgiana looked at him in astonishment.
