Georgiana became unsettled even at hearing Elizabeth’s name. While Fitzwilliam apologised for comparing him to Wickham, he continued to insist Darcy was being unconscionably irresponsible. The earl and countess informed him that despite the match being a poor one, theymighthave agreed to meet Elizabeth before deciding against offering their support, but since Georgiana hated the idea so much, they would not. Bramwell merely shrugged as though there was nothing he could do, which, in fairness, was almost certainly true.
And so, for his sister’s sake, Darcy gave up Elizabeth.
Two months later, sitting on the cold ground halfway between Netherfield and Longbourn, he still felt hopeless, remembering all that had happened.
After the conversation with Elizabeth, he could not remain at Netherfield, even though Bingley encouraged him to stay. It was a lonely journey back to town, but Darcy preferred that to company. It was full dark by the time he arrived at his town house, and only Georgiana greeted him. For that, he wasthankful. He had half expected to find Fitzwilliam and perhaps the earl awaiting him to ensure he had not explained to Elizabeth why their connexion had to be broken, which they had deemed would be foolish. He would have, but Elizabeth had refused to listen. It might not have made a difference, but perhaps she would hate him a little less if she fully understood the situation. Selfishly, he wanted the comfort of speaking to her of everything that had happened; but that would mean burdening her with his sorrow, and that would be wrong. He did not blame her for hating him after how he had acted, and asking for her sympathy—as though that would excuse his behaviour—was too much.
He joined Georgiana in her private sitting room. She watched him cautiously, her lips pulled into her mouth and her body rigid as though waiting to hear bad news. He sat beside her on a settee.
“I hope my late return did not worry you.”
She shook her head and tentatively asked, “H-h-how was the wedding?”
Briefly, he pressed his eyes closed in an attempt to banish the image of Elizabeth standing by her sister’s side. She had given every appearance of feeling nothing other than pleasure at the happy occasion, but he had spent too many hours studying her to miss the signs of her underlying discomfort. Nevertheless, she was beautiful to his eyes, and he had not been able to keep himself from silently repeating the wedding vows to her as Bingley said them to his bride. Darcy genuinely doubted he would ever be able to marry another lady; his heart was committed to Elizabeth, and this had been a simple acknowledgement of that, a promise he could give to her, even if she never learnt of it.
Answering his sister’s question, he said, “It was everything it should be. Bingley did not stop grinning the whole morning, and Mrs Bingley was lovely.”
There was a long pause before Georgiana next spoke. “Did you see…her?”
Darcy slowly inclined his head once. “We did not speak, not more than was absolutely necessary.”
“I could not bear it if you and she… To think that I might seehim?—”
“Do not, Georgiana,” he interjected, grasping her hand, which had reached for her neck, the fingers curled. He suspected she would try to scratch herself as she had done in the past, once leaving long welts on her forearms. “There is no need for your anxieties. You will never have to see him again, and Miss Bennet knows whatever there once was between us is at an end. It is all…over.”
Done. I have succeeded in making her hate me, and this time, there is nothing I can do to earn her forgiveness, unlike I was able to do last summer. If I were a better man, I would pray she forgets all about her affection for me and finds happiness with another. Perhaps in time, I shall be that generous, but for now, I cannot.
Georgiana rested her head against his shoulder, which lightened the heaviness of his heart, if only for the moment.
The next morning, his cousins came to call. After greeting them, Georgiana returned to her apartment. The gentlemen settled in the blue sitting room, and Darcy offered them coffee.
Bramwell slumped in a chair, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. He gave a large yawn, which Darcyinterpreted as either a late night or an indication of his thoughts on the task his brother and he had likely been sent to undertake by their parents. Possibly, he had insisted on coming to prevent another battle between Fitzwilliam and Darcy.
The colonel asked about the wedding, almost exactly as Georgiana had the night before. Darcy gave a similar response.
“You saw Miss Bennet,” Fitzwilliam stated rather than asked.
Darcy nodded, and Bramwell said, “Of course he did. Knowing he would is why we are here so blasted early in the day, is it not?”
Fitzwilliam glared at him before directing his next remark to Darcy. “I hope it was not too difficult.”
Darcy shrugged. Fitzwilliam and he had always been close friends, and he did not want to lose that, especially when he had already lost so much. He had accepted his cousin’s apology for his horrible remark; nevertheless, their previous ease was still far from restored.
“I would wager it was awful,” Bramwell muttered.
Again, Darcy shrugged, this time to say his cousin was not wrong.
Fitzwilliam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp a couple of times. “I am sorry about that, Darcy, but at least it is done. Now, you can…move on, find another lady. I have said it before—I liked Miss Bennet when we met at Easter. She is pretty and amusing, but you know she would never have been a great match for you. Neither would she be the best lady to help Georgiana enter society, as she must in the next few years. Miss Bennet might have been a goodfriendfor Georgiana but never a sister.”
“My God, you are insufferable on this point!” Bramwell cried. “If I were closer, I would kick you forthat alone.”
“I would prefer not to discuss it further,” Darcy insisted. “I went to Hertfordshire a single man, and I returned single still. It was what you and everyone else wanted, and it is done. Let us leave it at that.”
Bramwell yawned again, this time stretching his arms above his head; he then drained his cup of coffee and put it on the polished maple side table. Looking refreshed, he said, “I think the situation could have been managed. As my mother said, perhaps more time was needed to separate the younger sister’s marriage and your intention to propose to the older sister, but…” He gestured as though to say it did not matter. “You know what I think about Georgiana’s role in this. Allowing her to dictate whom you do or do not marry is giving her too much power. I do not believe it is to her benefit. If anything, having a sympathetic lady or two in her family would do her good.”
“She has my mother,” Fitzwilliam interjected.
“Yes, yes, Mother is very good to her,” Bramwell conceded. “But I meant one closer to Georgiana’s own age. Not a mother but a friend.”
