Page 69 of The Widower of Pemberley

“No.” Darcy shook his head. “I saw them. In a…a particular kind of embrace that…that only a man and a woman…and wife… Married. Only a pair who have been married are supposed to engage in it. It was out of doors, and from a distance, and I did not know for certain that it was them until Mary came outof the trees and Wickham walked the other way. I do not think Wickham ever knew how I found out.”

Georgiana’s face was crimson.

Darcy suspected that his face was equally as red.

Elizabeth, though, had a sympathetic expression. She put her hand on Darcy’s arm. “That must have been terrible for you.”

He nodded.

Georgiana started pounding the keys again.

None of them spoke for a while.

Then Georgiana said, “I trust you, not him. It is just—I miss George. I miss him so much.”

Darcy could not understand the sentiment.

He had ceased to think of Wickham as a particular friend long before he discovered how his former playmate had betrayed him.

Elizabeth turned the page for his sister.

As she played, Georgiana said quietly, “He always had time for me. He always played with me. He let me ride on him like a horse when I was a little child. We all laughed when he was about. Even Mama was kind and smiling when he was there. I miss that. I miss him. He made me…he made me feel like you do, Lizzy. As though I am not a terrible disappointment, deficient, a waste of breath and space.”

Darcy was horrified at the idea that Georgiana had ever felt that way. He stared at his sister with wide eyes.

“My dear Georgie,” Elizabeth began, asking the question that was on Darcy’s mind as well, “how could you ever think such a thing about yourself?”

“Youlikeme. You do not mind that I am shy, that I do not easily converse with those I do not know well—and you talk with me so naturally. George is like that. He does not mind that I am the way I am.”

Georgiana suddenly began a different piece, a melancholy sonata by Beethoven.

Darcy could not find his voice.

He realised he also thought of himself as deficient. His father had never, ever been proud of him. Even when he was dying, the old man had never said that he was proud.

Mary had also disliked Darcy’s character very much.

Did Elizabeth?

Elizabeth said, “That George has been your friend, a good friend, a friend who helped you—it is sad. He was kind to you—perhaps he still… But he did wrong to your brother. A great wrong.”

“It was all Mary’s fault! She was the one who betrayed Fitzwilliam! Oh, I wish I had never seen George again. I had half forgotten how…how…”

Georgiana looked at Darcy, then she blushed and fell silent.

Darcy ought to pursue this line of questioning—was his sister in love with Wickham? That would explain much of how she had acted after the scoundrel had been banished from the house for mysterious reasons, and her behaviour today.

Elizabeth put her arm around Georgiana again. “I know.”

“It is impossible.” Georgiana leaned against Elizabeth and stopped playing.

“Wholly,” Elizabeth agreed. “And it would not be good, if possible.”

Georgiana wiped her eyes.

Elizabeth squeezed her side.

Mr. Phillips came over and said to Darcy, “We are prepared to sign. There are no important issues with the document. You have been exceedingly generous towards my niece and her family.” He said to Elizabeth, “I shall especially note that Jane’s well-being and support is carefully assured, no matter what should happen to you or to Mr. Darcy.”