Mr. Fitzwilliam said, “In any case, Darcy is right. He should not have just walked away, leaving you in that devil’s hands.”
“That is my chief regret, Georgiana,” Mr. Darcy, earnestly. “I confess that I amnotsorry to have given you a fairytale life. How could I have done otherwise for a beloved sister? But Iamsorry that I deserted you just when you needed me most. I wish I had found a means by which I could have followed you to London, learnt where you lived, and paid that man a monthly allowance in return for treating you well. My only defense…” he trailed off.
“Yes?” his sister prompted him.
“I was just so very, very angry! I could scarce see straight! My vow to our father – all that I had tried to do for you – all thrown away!” He could not speak for a moment and he looked away, eyes closed.
Mr. Fitzwilliam hastily said, “But let us return to the original question. Should we protect our womenfolk from the miseries of the world? I know I would do anything I could to protect Jane from the horrors of our nation’s slums.”
Jane swallowed. “I am not the strongest woman in the world, I know. But is it not right that I at leastknowwhat other people suffer? Have I not, in truth, theobligationto know, even if I suffer as a result?”
Elizabeth murmured, “But I can see that it is a natural thing to want the person you love to not suffer, and so to keep them in ignorance.”
Mr. Darcy gave her a grateful look. “Just so.”
“But I still must enquire as to why you did not act sooner, holding Mr. Wickham’s debts as you did. That is what I do not understand.”
Georgiana spoke quickly. “Oh! Elizabeth! Debtor’s prison is everything horrible! Tell her, Brother.”
“Do you wish Miss Bennet to hear this, Richard?”
“Miss Bennet can speak for herself,” Jane said, swiftly. “And yes.”
Mr. Darcy then told the room the conditions under which George Wickham now lived, adding that thousands of people inhabited the various prisons: Coldbath Fields, Fleet, Giltspur Street Compter, King’s Bench, Marshalsea, Poultry Compter, Wood Street Counter and the Clink. “And there they must remain until their debts are paid in full,” he concluded.
“I do not understand,” Elizabeth said, blankly. “How are they able to pay their debts if they are imprisoned?”
“The debts must be paid for them,” Mr. Darcy replied. “By a spouse, a family member, anyone who might care enough to pay. Prisoners can pay for better living conditions, if they have the wherewithal to do so.”
Georgiana said, “So we could pay for George to have better food and a better place to live?”
Her brother hesitated before saying. “We could, but will we?”
“A moment, please,” Elizabeth said. “Is this why you did not act sooner, Mr. Darcy? Was it because you could not put your childhood friend in such a place?”
He turned to face her, his voice tight. “Could you do that to someone you had once cared for, Miss Elizabeth? Even if that person had become someone you did not wish to recognise? I paid his debts whenever and wherever I found them, not wanting merchants to come to grief as a result of his dissolute habits. I hoped, year after year, that he would see the error of his ways and become a better person. That never happened, of course. But to have him living in a cell, all but naked, starving, never to see the sun again? I can bear the thought when I recall how he treated Georgiana, but before that I could not have done so.” He dropped his head into his hands.
The room was silent, allowing Mr. Darcy time to recover himself. He looked up at last. “But Fitzwilliam here was right when he told me that evil triumphs if good does nothing. And I allowed my concern for an old friend to keep me from doing what I should have done.”
Elizabeth said, softly, “Surely you need not be ashamed of having a kind heart.”
“And yes, Brother,” Georgiana said, firmly. “We will pay for him to have better living conditions.”
“Very well,” Mr. Darcy said, softly. “I will write my solicitor directly.”
Elizabeth was astonished at how different Mr. Darcy and Georgiana looked now! Their faces were relaxed and calm, their eyes soft. There was still doubtless much they needed to say to one another, but it was clear that the chasm that had existed between them had been bridged. Mr. Darcy had released the poison in his heart at last; her own joy could not be denied.
But she could not show her elation, and it was impossible to return to the sort of conversation that was appropriate for an afternoon call. Jane and Elizabeth traded glances and soon rose. Georgiana began to apologise, but the Bennet ladies shushed her, hugged her hard, and took their leave.
Chapter Seventy
Wait for me,” Miss Bingley instructed the hackney driver.
“Cost ya, lady,” she was informed.
She fumed silently as she fished a coin from her reticule and gave it to the driver. “Wait!” she repeated.
He just nodded at her and spat a stream of tobacco juice onto the street.
