“There you have it! We must begin now to chart her course, for if we do not, Lady Catherine will.”
Richard shuddered. “I am sure it is necessary; I only request that we wait a few months. She will be in mourning for a year, and Darcy did not wish for her to come out until she was eighteen anyway.”
“What I propose, Richard, is that we do not wait that long. Too much can happen, and she is a vulnerable, naïve, and bashful young lady. Would you see her swarmed by fifty men, all of whom want nothing more than Darcy’s wealth and estate? Would it not be far better for Georgiana to quietly settle the matter for her?”
“I suppose you already have someone in mind? I do hope, Father, you at least have thought of someone she likes.”
“You, my boy.”
Richard’s glass crashed to the floor. “Me?It is out of the question! I am fourteen years her senior, and her guardian! Not only is it a violation of all that is right and natural, it is an abuse of Darcy’s confidence in me!”
“Darcy—both father and son—wished you to assist in looking out for her! What better way to do that than to marry her? You would beprotectingher, not taking advantage of her fortune! She knows and trusts you, and you, more than anyone else, would be able to step into Pemberley with nary a hitch. The estate needs a steady hand, as well as an heir. The Darcy line may be ended, but there have been so many intermarriages over the last generations that you are practically half Darcy.”
“No! Why, I could never possibly… Georgiana is like a sister to me!”
“She has matured, Richard. Surely you have noticed.”
“That does not matter! Have you considered that it may not even be legal for a guardian to marry his ward?”
“Naturally. You would have to assign that to me until your marriage, if that is possible. I already have my solicitor looking over Darcy’s will. Even if legalities are not an issue, it would look more proper.”
“Nothing about this could ever look proper.”
“Nonsense! You speak from sensibility, but I see things more practically. You are the perfect match, Richard.”
“Cheer up, Richard,” Reginald grinned. “Father has found you a charming and wealthy bride. You may sell your commission and retire from fighting, and unlike myself, you will not have to battle your wife when you are at home.”
“It is not fair to Georgiana!” Richard insisted. “Would you not even give her a chance to object?”
“Certainly, but she will not. She is an obedient girl, after all. Darcy did well, even raising her by himself.”
Richard clenched his fist, scowling and muttering under his breath, “She would surprise you, if you knew her better.”
“Eh?”
He cleared his throat. “Nothing, Father. If you will forgive me, I am quite exhausted and not presentable to go in to the ladies in the drawing room.”
“Oh, yes, very well. We will speak more once I have heard from my solicitor.” The earl waved his cigar, then snuffed it.
“You leave me to face Aunt Catherine alone?” Reginald’s eyes rounded in genuine fear, but his mouth curved slyly. He leaned close and whispered loudly, “If you wish to avoid marrying Georgiana, I have it on good authority that Aunt Catherine is searching for a husband for Anne.”
Richard shook his fist in mock temper, then firmly took the bottle that Reginald still held. “Goodnight, Brother.”
Chapter four
21 September, 1813
Derbyshire
Ithadbeenaquiet journey, these four days in a carriage from London. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was no longer accustomed to such a mode of travel, as long days on horseback had been his lot since his first tour on the Peninsula with General Craufurd’s Light Brigade. Now even at home, he tended to prefer riding his horse alongside a carriage rather than sitting backward inside one.
Such had not been an option on this journey. Georgiana could not be left so long without companionship, and less so now when they had at last crossed the boundaries of the estate. The mansion would soon be within sight, but no thrill of anticipation lit her eyes. He cast a hesitant glance to his young cousin and the elderly maid who had traveled with them from Matlock House. The woman was sour, dull, and nearly bent double by the cares of a life in service, but even she was livelier than the girl in her charge. Georgiana gazed constantly out of a window with listless devotion, and Richard gazed constantly at her.
It had been her habit as a girl to look fondly upon the flora and landscape of her native Derbyshire, and always on such journeys, her countenance would take on a sort of radiance as she neared her home. It was as though Pemberley contained her life blood, pulsing ever more vibrantly as she drew closer to restoring communion with that dear place. On this day, however, each jingle of harness and every grinding beat of hoof on frosted gravel seemed to bring a darkness over her. She quietly absorbed all that passed by, her soft looks nearly apologetic to the dying fields and autumn flocks of geese within her view. To look on her face was to know the emptiness and weight of duty, and like himself, she clearly felt inadequate.
“Georgie?” he ventured.
She turned, her mouth quivering.
