“I thought he told you in December.”
Elizabeth shook her head. Later, she would review their conversation on the day of Jane and Bingley’s wedding; she suspected she had done him—and herself—a disservice. “You might believe you have failed in some manner, but he would say the failure was all his—that he was not a good enough brother to you.”
Miss Darcy held a forkful of lemon cake aloft and gaped at Elizabeth. “But he istoogood to me. He always has been, especially after I was so reckless.”
“I do not say I agree with him, but neither do I agree with you blaming yourself. I suppose you might have acted differently that summer, but I understand why you trusted Mr Wickham.” When Miss Darcy flinched at the name, Elizabeth gave her a reassuring smile. “Do not be afraid of his name. It is aword and meaningless. I despise him as I never have anyone else and as I hope I never shall again, but I refuse to give him so much power over me that even his name affects me. I pray that one day you will be strong enough to say the same.” She allowed Miss Darcy a moment to contemplate this before continuing. “Do you feel your brother and Colonel Fitzwilliam are to blame for failing to examine Mrs Younge’s character sufficiently or not better preparing you to go out into the world?”
Miss Darcy placed the fork on the table, having consumed most of the food. She turned the chair so that she was more directly facing Elizabeth. “They did nothing wrong. They have always been very careful with me, and I know they consult Lady Romsley all the time. She approved of Mrs Younge.”
“I am sure she and Wickham planned their scheme very carefully. Unfortunately, they were able to accomplish part of it, but I am grateful beyond measure that it did not entirely succeed.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mr Darcy believes Mr Wickham wanted revenge because your brother had refused to give him money in the past. By injuring you, he succeeded. But you are not married to him, which he must see as a failure. What you have endured these last two years has been difficult, but your suffering would have lasted your lifetime had your brother not refused to force a marriage.”
There was a long pause before Miss Darcy said, “I had not considered that. But if my brother had made me marry him, he would not have been free to pursue your sister.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I suppose that is true, but I see a difference in the situations. Do not mistake me—Idoworry for her. But Lydia views eloping as a good joke, and she was content to live with him despite being unmarried. She seesnothing wrong with what she did. Your brother attempted to convince her to leave him and go to my aunt and uncle Gardiner, promising to arrange a better future for her. Did you know that, or of his role in her marriage?”
Miss Darcy shook her head. She listened attentively as Elizabeth explained about having received Jane’s letters and Mr Darcy arriving at the inn in Lambton just as she had read the dreadful news. “That is why the Gardiners and I left so unexpectedly. Your brother vowed to assist in finding Lydia, and he was the one who did. When she refused to leave Mr Wickham, your brother convinced him to marry her and purchased a commission for him in a northern regiment.
“I wish Lydia were not bound to him. But my relief that you are not is greater than my regret that she is. She may come to despise the consequences of her actions, but for now she is content. They might get on together reasonably well in the future, especially if they do not expect much in the way of love and companionship from each other.” To herself, Elizabeth added,Or fidelity.“In other words, it is possible Lydia will do well. You would not have. Taken all together—the people involved, the particulars of what happened—it is better this way.”
Miss Darcy leant forwards and regarded her with wide eyes. “You really believe everything you have said to me?”
“I do. Every word of it.”
They continued to look at each other, Elizabeth struggling not to speak and instead leave Miss Darcy to her contemplations. Eventually, Miss Darcy yawned widely.
“You are tired. That is hardly to be wondered at. Would you like to rest for a while?” Elizabeth asked.
When Miss Darcy nodded, Elizabeth helped her into the bed. She was asleep almost immediately.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Darcy rose before dawn the morning after his latest disagreeable conversation with Fitzwilliam. He took a long ride, then went to his study to attend to some work. The reading he did was complicated enough that it helped to occupy his mind, keeping thoughts of Elizabeth on the periphery rather than overtaking him entirely. He was still hard at work when Mrs Reynolds entered the room.
“I am sorry to disturb you, sir, but—” She approached the desk and held out a note to him with a shaking hand. “Miss Darcy’s maid found this when she went into her chamber this morning.”
Darcy’s heart began to race. He virtually tore the slip of paper from his housekeeper’s hands. As he read the short message, everything around him faded except the words written in Georgiana’s hand; they seemed too large and bright and as though they were screaming at him.
I am leaving. It is for the best for you, my dear brother, and all my family. This is the only way I can free you from the responsibility of my care. I want you to be happy, and now you can be.
“Before bringing it to me, the silly girl searched everywhere in the house she thought Miss Darcy might be, and even spoke to several of the gardeners. No one has seen her. I have asked that a more thorough search begin,” Mrs Reynolds said.
For a second, Darcy stared at her, letting her words penetrate the thick, panic-formed shell that enveloped him. He then gave one brusque nod and stepped past her and into the hall, where he bellowed for Fitzwilliam.
“Where the hell could she be? What was she thinking?” Fitzwilliam all but shouted. He began to pace around Darcy’s study.
It was about a quarter of an hour since Mrs Reynolds had brought the news to him. He had shared the note with his cousin, who was understandably agitated. Unfortunately, it meant he had thus far been of no use in deciding what to do. Mrs Reynolds had every servant she could spare searching the house and grounds, but there was no sign of Georgiana. All the horses were accounted for, so she had not taken one to ride off somewhere. Darcy had sent men to enquire in the villages. She must have made her way to one—though God only knew how and at what hour since he had been awake since five o’clock and had not seen her.
“I have no answers,” Darcy said. “Should one or both of us stay here to receive word of what is found and arrange othersearches? Should you or I go after her ourselves, although I do not know which direction she took? That is what I long to do. I shall go mad if I do nothing!”
As it was, Darcy felt sick with worry. He had actually been sick soon after first reading the note when the implications of it became clear to him. Georgiana had run off on her own without even a trusted servant. After everything his sister had already experienced, and given how fragile and sheltered she was, she was in grave danger. He leant against the desk, his legs too weak to fully support him.
Fitzwilliam stopped walking and thrust a finger in Darcy’s direction. “This is because of you. I told you yesterday that she knew you were unhappy, and you knew how much she hated having Elizabeth here.”
Weariness and anxiety for his sister prevented Darcy from retorting. Instead, he said, “Are we truly going to quarrel now? I would much rather put my energy into finding Georgiana. I give you leave to recite all my failingsaftershe is safely with us again.”
