“Please, Georgiana, I promise not to yell –“
“No!”
The Countess straightened up and spoke to her nephew. “She has been like this since – since you got home?”
“Yes; I thought she was improving, but the moment she saw the newspaper article, she locked herself in her room again.”
“Will you tell me what you know of Ramsgate?”
Mr. Darcy ran his hands through his dark curls. “I will, of course. Let us go to my study.”
Once ensconced behind his heavy walnut desk, Mr. Darcy rang for tea. Mrs. Reynolds came herself, carrying a tea tray with Mr. Darcy’s favourite chocolate biscuits. Mrs. Reynolds set the tray on the small table beside the Countess. Her round face was every bit as worried as Mr. Darcy’s as she whispered, “Is there anything else, sir?”
“No. Wait. I am sorry, Mrs. Reynolds; yes, please bring a tea tray to Miss Darcy’s door.”
“Yes, sir,” Mrs. Reynolds nodded and departed, closing the door behind her.
The Countess rose, prepared her own tea and sat back down. “Go on, then, Darcy. All I know is the bit of scandal I read in the paper. Did she truly almost elope with a servant?”
“It is entirely my fault,” Mr. Darcy declared. “I trusted her companion, Mrs. Younge, and was clearly foolish to do so.”
“Did Mrs. Younge have references?”
“Certainly; hold, I have them here.” Mr. Darcy dug about in his desk drawers and pulled out a handful of papers.
His aunt rose from her seat to take them and leafed through them. When she was done, she looked up at her nephew in dismay. “The Countess of Leaven? She has been dead a decade. Baroness Heigherton is married and has never had a companionthat anyone can recall. The Countess Deaconshire, good Lord, the title has been obsolete for twenty years! Darcy, did you do anything to check these references? For they are false, each and every one of them.”
Mr. Darcy buried his head in his hands and groaned. “False? Oh, Lord forgive me, I did not check them!”
“How could you not?” the Countess demanded.
Mr. Darcy raised his head, his eyes filled with misery. “There was a tenant fire, the family had to be relocated, and I was grateful, too grateful, to put Georgiana in someone else’s hands. I was wrong, I know it. I neglected my most important duty, and I have no excuse for it. Moreover, I have long known the kind of man Wickham was, and I never told Georgiana the truth about him. I was trying to protect her from even knowing such wickedness existed, and in so doing, exposed her to it directly.”
The Countess took a deep breath. “I must tell you that I am absolutely furious, Darcy. You must know that this gossip reflects on the Matlocks as well as the Darcys.” Her voice began to shake; she controlled it with an effort. “I offered to select a companion for Georgiana, and you told me that you would take care of it.”
“I know that, Aunt, and you are right to be angry with me. Believe me when I tell you that I am already entirely – “ He could not continue.
The Countess of Matlock stared at him in considerable dismay; this proud, arrogant man was badly beaten down. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. “Go on, then; tell me what happened.”
Chapter Six
A few weeks earlier
At Ramsgate
Mrs. Younge! Look! It is George, I know it is!”
The older woman peered out from under her hat, shading her eyes with her hand. “George? George who? Do you know him?”
“Oh, yes! George Wickham! We were childhood friends; he must remember me!”
The gentleman in question very evidently did recall Miss Georgiana Darcy, for he all but galloped up to her and shook her hand enthusiastically. “Georgiana! I can hardly believe it! Oh, I suppose I must call you Miss Darcy now, you are so grown-up!” And with that, he executed a theatrical bow and smiled widely, showing two charming dimples.
Georgiana giggled. “Oh, do not be so silly, George. Mrs. Younge, allow me to present Mr. George Wickham; George, this is Mrs. Younge; she is my companion.”
“A companion? I suppose you are now too grown-up for a mere governess! Good morning, Mrs. Younge. I hope you will excuse Miss Darcy’s enthusiasm. We grew up together, but have not seen one another for several years. This is a joyful reunion indeed.”
“I understand completely, Mr. Wickham,” Mrs. Younge said, easily. “But what an odd coincidence, that you two should find one another in Ramsgate!”
