Page 125 of Regrets

“Mine?” His eyebrows shot up.

“You should have told me! You should have warned me! How was I to know?”

Mr. Darcy’s brows drew together. “I told you to have nothing to do with him. You should never have –“

“I thought it was romantic!” she spat. “I did not know that such evil existed! I did not know that anyone could try to – to take advantage of a stupid young girl! You knew, and you did not tell me! I will never forgive –“ And with that, she crumpled into a heap on the floor and sobbed.

Mr. Darcy ran to his sister and held her, sitting with her on the floor. She fought against him, hitting his shoulders with her fists, but he held on. Finally, her rage subsided and the sobs lessened.

“You are right,” he whispered to her, tenderly tucking damp tendrils of hair behind her ears. “I should have told you. You needed to know and I kept you in ignorance. I cannot tell you how very much I regret –“ His voice faltered and he stopped speaking. He held his sister, there on the Aubusson carpet, and rocked her gently, back and forth, as he had done when their father had died.

Finally, she sighed, “Lydia says that if I had not been there, it would have been her. George would have convinced Lydia to do whatever he wanted. And what would have happened to her? Who would have saved Lydia?”

“I do not know,” he whispered.

“At least she was spared,” Georgiana murmured. “At least Lydia was spared.”

The two of them huddled together on the carpet. Finally, Georgiana said, “Tell me about him. Tell me about George. And tell Lydia. And Lizzy. Tell all of us about him.”

“It is so difficult to speak of it –“

“You owe us this, Brother. You owe it to all of us.”

***

At Mr. Darcy’s request, the family gathered together in the drawing room with all the doors closed.

Mr. Darcy took a moment to gather his thoughts. When he rose and cleared his throat, all eyes were on him. “Georgiana has asked me to tell all of you about George Wickham. She says that by keeping his secrets all these years, I left her vulnerable. And not just her; I left you vulnerable as well, Lydia, and for that I am very sorry.”

He sat down and pushed his hair back with his hands. Then he rose again and stared out of a window. “It is true that we were childhood friends. We fished together, we climbed trees together, we flew kites. We even cut our wrists and exchanged blood and called ourselves brothers. He treated Georgiana as though she was his own little sister, and had a good deal more patience for her than had I.”

Elizabeth watched him with a good deal of concern. She rose and went to him, putting her hand on his arm. “Fitzwilliam, if this is too painful, you need not –“

“No, Elizabeth. I must. Georgiana is right. I should have told her ages ago. It is just so hard, so damned hard.”

Georgiana’s eyes widened and she caught her breath. Her brother had never sworn in front of her before!

Mr. Darcy went on. “But one day, our butler at the time, Danforth, took him to task for calling Georgiana and myself by our first names. You should have more respect, he said, for the young master and his sister. George objected, saying that we called him by his first name, so why was this any different? Danforth answered that George was the son of a servant, and we could call him anything we liked.”

“Mr. Wickham did not like that, I suppose,” Lydia said, softly.

“No, he did not; and it made no difference that I immediately told Danforth that friends could call each other by their Christian names regardless of their station. Wickham changed from that day forward. He became angry at me, and took his revenge in small ways, making certain that I took the blame for any pranks, and doing his utmost to beat me in any game or competition.” He stopped again, and passed a hand over his eyes, as if overwhelmed by memories.

Elizabeth went to a small cabinet, from which she took a bottle of brandy and a glass. Pouring two fingers of brandy into the glass, she put it on the table beside her husband.

Mr. Darcy looked at her, nodded his thanks, and took a sip before continuing. “He had never before paid much attention to my parents, but this too changed, for he now made every effort to charm my father. And my respected father, so astute in matters of business, was completely taken in. He thought George so very clever, so very athletic, so very…everything. Inevitably, George and I were sent to Cambridge together.”

“I remember that he was there with you,” Georgiana murmured.

“Yes,” Mr. Darcy said. “And he might have done well enough, had he contented himself with befriending students of his own class, but instead he made every effort to ingratiate himself with those high above him, particularly the sons of peers. He thought they were his friends, while in truth he was merely being used by them.”

“Did he really think he could be friends with the sons of dukes and earls?” Lydia asked, astonished.

“He did, yes. He was sent into town to procure drink and women of a…certain type for his so-called friends. He had no money, so he used my name to pay for such items.”

“You paid his debts?” Elizabeth exclaimed.

“No; as soon as I understood what was happening, I went to the merchants and told them who I was and who he was, and that his debts were his own. Once his so-called friends discovered that he could no longer be useful to them, they snubbed him.” Mr. Darcy took another sip of the brandy. “Wickham was furious, and blamed me for it. He returned to Pemberley before completing his studies, saying that he had missed my father so much that he could not focus on his schoolwork.”