“Yes?”
“I fear – how will I know –“ He could not continue.
“Ah. If she is with child.” The Countess’ voice was grim. “For what liberties might he have taken before you arrived?”
“Yes.” A whisper.
“I do not suppose you could ask her –“
“I could not, no.” He shook his head, vehemently.
“Then you will have to wait until it becomes evident.”
Mr. Darcy raised bewildered eyes to his aunt. “But by then, it will be evident to everyone else as well.”
“I fear so. But I know not what else I can do, if she will not speak to me about it.”
***
The Countess remained at Pemberley for a week. She had a chair placed outside Georgiana’s bedroom door and sat in it for hours at a time, trying to talk to her niece through that door. She felt certain that she could get to the bottom of things if the girl would just talk to her.
Finally, she waited until a tray was brought and Georgiana opened the door to get it; the Countess immediately forced her way inside. But it was no use; Georgiana flung herself face down on the bed and refused to say a word.
At last, the Countess admitted defeat. “I may as well go home,” she told Mr. Darcy. “I do not doubt that Henry has had his hands full with the fallout of that nasty report, and he, at least, will welcome my help.”
“Have you any advice for me, Aunt? For I admit that I am at my wit’s end!” Mr. Darcy said, wearily.
“I suppose at some point you will have to force her out of her room, even if you have to have the door broken down.” The Countess almost wished she could be witness to that event; she would like to shake Georgiana very hard for the trouble she had caused her family.
Chapter Eight
Matlock House in London
She did not come out the whole time you were there?!” the Earl expostulated.
“Not once; I forced my way into her room at one point, but she refused to so much as look at me.” The Countess was still miffed by the whole event, not to mention the waste of more than a fortnight, traveling to Derbyshire and back.
“Unbelievable! I never imagined Georgiana capable of such behaviour.” The Earl had memories of a young, shy, well-behaved girl who bid fair to resemble her mother, Anne Fitzwilliam; he had never imagined that it would be Georgiana who would cast the family into disgrace. Even Catherine’s behaviour was better than this!
“Nor I; what will become of her, do you think?” The Countess’ anxious eyes looked into her husband’s.
“I suppose we can always marry her off to some tradesman looking for an entry into society.” His tone was doubtful.
And at that, the implacable Countess of Matlock dissolved into tears.
Her husband took her into his arms. “Ellen, please…”
She wept on his shoulder. “Henry, it is too dreadful! That poor child, to be tainted at such a young age!”
“But she did do wrong, did she not?”
“She did, but she is young and inexperienced, and Darcy did not check the references, and it is NOT GEORGIANA’S FAULT!” The Countess was torn between her anger at Darcy, her anticipation of the shame that would fall upon the family, and her sincere pity for her wayward niece.
“Shhh, the servants will hear you.”
“The servants already know, I promise you. Everyone knows. Well, not quite everyone.” She pulled away from her husband, wiping at her tears, and her brow creased in thought. She was a woman who preferred action to wallowing in useless emotion, and the idea of taking action was appealing.
“What are you thinking?”
