Page 33 of The Engagement at Longbourn

He winced. “That was poorly phrased.”

“It was magnificently phrased. I may preserve it for future use.”

Darcy shut the ledger.

Elizabeth sat opposite him. “You are restless.”

“Yes.”

“You are also worried.”

His eyes lifted. She had become alarmingly adept at reading him.

“Georgiana,” he said.

“Your sister.”

“Yes.”

Elizabeth knew of Georgiana Darcy only through Bingley’s praise, Caroline’s extravagant admiration, and the few references Darcy had made during his illness. She knew the girl was fifteen, shy, accomplished, and dearly loved by her brother.

“She writes every day,” Darcy said.

“I have seen the stack of letters.”

“She wishes to come.”

“To see you?”

“Yes.”

“And you have refused.”

Darcy looked toward the fire.

Elizabeth waited.

“There is a man in Meryton,” he said at last.

“George Wickham?”

Darcy’s jaw tightened. Elizabeth recalled Wickham’s easy manners, handsome face, and the story he had told of Darcy’s cruelty. She also recalled Darcy’s discomfort whenever Wickham was named.

“What has he to do with Miss Darcy?”

Darcy was silent so long she thought he might not answer. Then he said, “Everything I am about to tell you concerns my sister’s reputation.”

Elizabeth straightened. “I will not repeat it.”

“I know.”

That trust affected her more than flattery could have. Darcy began with his father’s affection for Wickham. He spoke of the promised living, Wickham’s choice to take money instead, his dissipation, and his later return demanding the church position he had already surrendered.

Elizabeth listened without interruption.

Then Darcy told her of Ramsgate. “Georgiana was fifteen,” he said. “She was under the care of a companion, Mrs. Younge. Wickham followed them there. Mrs. Younge assisted him.”

Elizabeth’s hands tightened.