“You said his child… when you thought there was any chance that I could have been tainted in that way? Did you not use that word? Tainted? Didn’t Richard use that word?” Georgiana’s eyes flashed. “And you will now give all this to thattaint?” She gestured around at the room. “You will pass everything on to his child?”
“Is this really what you wish to speak of?” he said.
“Yes.”
“I plan to break the entail,” he said. “Honestly, it’s something I have thought of doing even before any of this came to pass, so I shall do it regardless. If this child is a boy child, then he and I shall do it, and if I have another boy child later with Elizabeth, I shall do it with him. I shall then be free to divide up everything equally upon my death, which is a better solution going forward for everyone. I think the entire world will soon jettison this stupid practice of giving all the wealth to one child. Think whatcould have been done for Richard if our uncle and the viscount had done such a thing.”
She thought this over.
“I have no title,” he said. “So, it’s not as if there is anything material to give to the child. And the child is innocent. The child is as much a victim of his father’s wickedness as are you and Miss Bennet. I see no reason to make a child suffer.”
She got up from the bed, letting out a pained noise.
“Georgiana?” He let out a breath. “I repent of it, if I made you feel as if what befell you had… had altered you. It was wrong of me. It was him, it was always him. It was never you. You did nothing wrong. The blame is all his.”
She went to the window, and she pressed her fingertips into the pane of glass. “We were still in Ramsgate in the two weeks after, while we waited.”
He got up, meaning to go to her.
She stopped him. “Do not comenearme, Fitzwilliam.”
So, he stopped where he was and stood there, hands at his sides, thinking in this moment of Wickham’s vacant eyes staring blankly up at the tree branches overhead, thinking of how easily, how quickly Darcy had snuffed out the other man’s life, thinking of how there had been negotiations in those two weeks, how he had given Wickham time to plead his case.
Wickham, in Ramsgate, wheedling.Your sister may yet prove to be with child. You would not saddle her with such shame, would you?
Should have shot him, then. Richard had spoken of it. They had considered it.
They had considered other things. Accuse him of some other crime. Horse thievery, even. You could hang a man for stealing a horse. No one asked questions. If he and Richard said he was a horse thief, it could have been done.
They could have done it themselves—likely, that would have been what they had done.
But they could have taken the chance of reporting him to a local magistrate, having him hauled into the gaol, a trial, all of it, and if they had claimed it, the outcome would have been the same. They talked of it, worried that he would spread rumors. They talked and they talked.
“Two weeks, yes,” he said. “Until you bled, and then he ran off, and we didn’t go after him.”
“I would wake each day, and I would not have bled, and I would look out at the sea,” she said. “I would think…”
“What would you think?” His voice changed.
She shook her head. She did not look at him. “I was worthless, Fitz. And even after I bled, you still have treated me as though I was.”
“I have not.” Now, his voice broke. Had he? Is that what he’d done to his sister? Had he been as awful to her as everyone had been to Elizabeth? Was he no better than the Bingley sisters with their schemes and their ignoring her? It was true that he had not shoved his sister up in a far away room and refused to allow her to come down to dinner or given her a maid or forced her not to eat proper meals, but he had… he had sort of hidden her away, had he not? He grimaced. “Forgive me, then, Georgiana, forgive me. I am the worst of men. I am ever so sorry for that.”
She turned to look at him. “And you say this now, because ofher.”
He bowed his head.
“Get out,” she said, turning back to the window.
“Please, Georgiana,” he said. “Please, I am begging you, I repent of my behavior. I see what you are saying. It will be different now. I shall mend the error of my ways.”
“Get out,” she said again.
He let out a breath. Perhaps she needed a bit of time. “All right,” he said, and then he turned and started for her door. At the door, he stopped, hand on the knob. He turned back to her. “He is dead now. Just so you know. I should have done that straightaway, but I’ve done it now.” And he did not wait for her response. He simply left the room and shut the door behind him.
He was halfway down the hallway when she called after him.
He turned to see her, peering out of her bedchamber.
