“You most certainly did, silly. Not me. Elizabeth, of course.”
Elizabeth? Elizabeth!Somehow, this was even more horrifying; it was a good thing he was already sitting, or he might have fallen over.
“Why in heaven’s name does Elizabeth think she ought to wed a steward? And what do I have to do with it if she does?” He nearly hissed the words.
Georgiana looked taken aback at his vehemence. “You need not act so affronted. I think finding her a respectable husband is an excellent idea. It cannot have escaped your notice that she is trying to raise that little boy all by herself, and that she requires help.”
He could not seem to quell the fury coursing through him. “I thought thathelpwas what you were providing, in all those hours you spend with her.”
“Fitzwilliam! I spend a couple of hours a day at Fox Hollow. What do you think she does with the other twenty-two?”
Sarcasm, from Georgiana of all people! It was the outside of enough. “So, your idea is to find a husband for her? With theland agent? What are you doing with your time—creating fairy tale dreams of happily-ever-afters, slotting likely—or unlikely—victims into the gaps? What nonsense!”
Georgiana gawped at him. “It was not my idea, but I thought it an excellent one.”
“So it is Eliz—Miss Elizabeth’s notion?” This was somehow even more infuriating. “If this is the sort of foolishness to which she would expose you, I think it insupportable. If romance is all she wants, let her find it herself, instead of dragging us into it.”
“You will not help her?” She sounded incredulous, as if he had said something absurd, when she was the one who was spouting the inconceivable.
“She and her ridiculous ideas are intolerable. I am in no humour to lend my consequence to ladies who are so desperate for men. You had better return to bed, for you are wasting your time with me.”
His sister stood, still looking at him with what appeared to be incomprehension. “She told me not to ask you, but I believed you would not mind. I believed you had her best interests at heart, and could easily see that not only is Neddy almost more than she can handle, but that he requires a father, a good and caring father to model his life after. Mr Morris is, according to Elizabeth, known to be such a father.” Her blueeyes filled with tears. “She isnotlooking to have a ‘happily ever after’ for herself. Plainly, she has given up on all that. She is attempting to provide one for Neddy. I think she is the bravest, most wonderful creature in the world. I am sorry I ever said anything to you.” She ran from the room.
Thirty-Two
THE CLAIMS OF DUTY AND HONOUR
Darcy did not sleep well.
At first, his anger kept him awake, tossing and turning. He wanted to kick something, and the pillows were distinctly unsatisfying targets.
As the hours passed, guilt began to leach in. He ought not to have spoken to his sister so harshly; he had never before done so, and knowing he had made her cry did not sit well.
But was not this, too, Elizabeth’s fault? She had dragged soft-hearted Georgiana into her fantasies. Even though a niggling sense of fairness argued that Georgiana had leapt in, rather than be dragged, he rebelled against the justice of the thought.
After hours of wakeful struggle, what everything came down to was that Elizabeth wanted Andrew Morris. That was what he wanted to kick, most of all. When he finally did fall asleep, his dreams were troubled visions of watching the hulking Morris wrap his arms around a lovely, ethereal Elizabeth garbed in wedding clothes.
He arose early, glad to be rid of the prison of his bedchamber, and hurried Havers through his shave and dress, causing a raised brow or two—his valet was unused to such impatience. But he wanted to have a word with Georgiana before she went to Fox Hollow. At first, he had been of a mind to refuse to allow her to go at all, but his head was cooler this morning. He meant to tell her that she ought to confine her activities to helping with Edward, and keep out of any of Elizabeth’s other troubles. Elizabeth’s uncle could arrange her marriage, if he was so inclined. It was a Bennet family affair. It was no fault of theirs that her uncle was a grasping weasel. Also, she was to repeat none of his unguarded sentiments regarding the arrangement of such a marriage from the night before, lest Elizabeth believe they were a product of simple jealousy instead of an…anunderstandingof the outrageousness of the notion.
But when he was finally presentable, a few enquiries revealed that Georgiana had departed earlier than usual for ‘her morning ride’. It was maddening, knowing that even now his sister was making him out to be some sort of worm before Elizabeth.
It was a temptation to leave at once for Fox Hollow. But no—his anger was not, as yet, under good regulation. He entered the breakfast parlour expecting to have it to himself at this hour. He did not wish to speak to anyone, about anything, and could not vouch for his temper if he did. After he had eaten, he would go himself,politelyexplain to Miss Elizabeth Bennet why his sister was not to be used as a tool for her schemes, and bring Georgiana back to Netherfield.
Unfortunately, the last person he expected to see before noon was seated within. Bingley seldom rose early unless there was shooting in their plans, but here he was, a full plateset before him. He did not appear to be paying much attention to the food, but instead stared out the window with a brooding air unusual to him.
“Ah,” he said, at Darcy’s entrance. “Precisely the man I wished to see.” He nodded to the footman, and the servant made himself scarce at once.
Wonderful. Of all mornings, he chooses this one for a serious conversation.Darcy hardly knew what he put on his plate—only wanting an excuse to say as little as possible. Perhaps with his mouth full, he could put off any sort of discussion. Bingley had been speaking of holding an elaborate Twelfth Night ball—the worst idea ever—and probably wished to gain Darcy’s approval.
But Bingley was silent for a long while and, when he spoke at last, he said nothing of entertainments.
“Darcy, you are as a brother to me,” the younger man declared. “There are no words to express how much poorer would be my life, if I had to live it without your friendship.”
Darcy swallowed—and not merely his toast. Especially after Georgiana’s set-down, his compliment was a boon.
“Thank you,” he managed.
“It is why this is the most difficult thing I have ever had to say.”
