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She withdrew a letter from her pocket and handed it to Lizzy, who unfolded it and read:
Dearest Miss Darcy,
Notice the respectful salutation. You are quite accustomed to it, are you not? To being thought the perfect young lady, looking down upon those lesser mortals surrounding you? We two know better, perhaps. Do you look down upon me now? Or do you remember me holding you within my arms, the feel of my lips upon yours, as once we shared so much more than mere friendship? Do you remember the letter you wrote to me? I have read it so often I know it by heart. Sadly, the memories do not keep me warm when the nights are cold. Imagine my surprise to learn that you are so near! Come to me, my dearest love. It is all I can do to refrain from expressing my recent disappointment. But my lips are forever sealed, if I only learn you love me still. I will be in the village square tomorrow to happily shop for ribbons with you.
G. W.
“The cad!” Lizzy cried. “The lowborn, misbegotten scoundrel! He did not deserve even one of your kisses and does not merit another of your thoughts. How bad is the letter he refers to? Do you remember your words?”
“Only too clearly. I wrote him a poem, Lizzy, a stupid one about my love and his and…and babies with eyes of his colour.” She turned bright red with mortification.
“Dearest, I know it is embarrassing, but it hardly sounds dreadful. It is the love of a young innocent and scarcely a stain upon your honour.”
Georgiana only bit her lip. “But…what shall I do?”
“Do? Why nothing at all. Imagine he says the worst he could say. You deny it with true disgust. Deny, deny, deny, even if he shows your poem around. He makes himself appear as a liar at worst, a despoiler of young females at best. What good would it do him? And suppose some few idiots listen to him. What do you care? These people have no power over you or influence in town, and we can take cover with my uncle if need be.”
“I would not mind that.”
“Exactly.” A darker thought occurred to Lizzy, however, and she felt obliged to voice it. “There is a possibility, I suppose, he is laying a…a foundation for a prospective demand.”
“You think he may be after ruining my future rather than simply my present,” Georgiana whispered.
Lizzy made herself shrug. “Very well. Let us say he waits a few years, until a betrothal or an engagement is announced. You ignore it. I might recommend confessing the childish error to a soon-to-be husband, perhaps. It would be embarrassing, yes. But you will hold your head high. It is in the past.”
Curiously, at this notion, Georgiana brightened. “It is the best possible outcome, Lizzy! Because I plan never to marry—I am finished with sentimental attachments. They bring nothing except pain. I intend never to be so used for my fortune again!”
Lizzy turned to face her, forcing Georgiana to meet her gaze. “Do not you see? This rogue writes to a girl who is gone forever. Perhaps, had you received this letter a couple of months ago, you might have felt you must grovel before him or do whatever he demands or try to earn or pay for his good will. But the girl who lured Lady Catherine into eating sweets laced with sleeping draught, the girl who stood up to her guardian—a medalled colonel in His Majesty’s army—the girl who refused to submit to an earl’s demands that she accompany him, the girl who never allows the overbearing Miss Caroline Bingley to bully or intimidate her, the girl who told me to burn my caps…why, she would never care a tuppence for anything this worm says!”
Georgiana opened her mouth then closed it again, appearing thoughtful.
They walked together in silence for some time; Lizzy was thankful to notice the girl’s colour was restored, her expression more peaceful.
“I met him, you know,” Lizzy said at last. “Your brother told me about Wickham importuning you, and you must only imagine my surprise when, at the assembly two weeks ago, I heard a man declaring himself your father’s godson, spreading lies and rumours about Mr Darcy. I knew at once it was he. I had even thought him pretty, in a way, until he opened his mouth. I predict his soiled character will soon be laid bare for all to see.”
“You knew? All this time, then? But of course, I do not blame Fitzwilliam for telling you, even though a foolish part of me hoped he might forget.”
“He does not blame you, Georgie. He never did. I hope someday you, too, will forgive your younger self for her mistakes. And I hope that if those mistakes are ever used to try to humiliate you publicly, you will think, ‘The girl who made them is not who I am any longer, the poor dear.’”
“‘The poor dear’…as if I were an infant at the time instead of one who ought to have known better!” Georgiana protested.
“Well…you really were. Cannot you remember? I do not think I have ever met a girl so timid and biddable in all my life.”
The admission startled a laugh from her friend. “I suppose I was,” she agreed.
“And I suppose those stupid linen caps I wore did nothing except announce to the world my own lack of confidence. But I shall encourage you with the same advice I once gave your brother: we shall remember the past only as it gives us pleasure to do so. Pact?”
And after a moment, “Pact,” Georgiana replied.
* * *
It had been three weeks since he’d seen her; it felt like months.
Gardiner would be here at any moment, the thought filling Darcy with a mixture of dread and eager anticipation. Dread, for he was guilty of absconding with the man’s niece and…and what? he thought defensively. Falling in love with her? Asking her to marry me? But then his shoulders slumped. If he had not been precisely dishonourable in his intentions, the fact remained that she had cared for him, intimately, for weeks. However heroic he believed her, if the world were to learn of it, she would be castigated, perhaps ruined. Still, even knowing he deserved Gardiner’s censure, he could not help but hope to also hear news of her. Or would Gardiner pretend none of it had ever happened? After all, Lizzy might have told him the extent of Darcy’s humiliation, of her rejection. Or told him nothing, inviting his fury.
But to his relief, Gardiner shook his proffered hand and seemed in all ways as usual. He took Darcy’s speech issues in stride—but of course, his speech had improved a great deal. If he could not always hit upon the word he wished for, he seldom blurted completely inappropriate ones.
His reading had greatly improved, too, even if his writing still resembled Bingley’s, and they worked for hours on his correspondence, making tremendous progress in the stacks of mail. The news Gardiner brought from town was almost uniformly good. His business interests had suffered but not as badly as he had feared; Gardiner had met with bankers, pre-empting any action from Matlock to interfere with his finances. He had prepared a letter to the earl, which was the perfect balance of warning and clemency, and only required Darcy’s signature.
“I first learnt of your illness from Saxelby,” Gardiner explained. “The earl wrote him, claiming you permanently incapacitated and demanding a full report of your assets to be used for your care. Of course, we were alarmed and took every step we could to trace you. Saxelby discovered your whereabouts in Ramsgate but arrived after your departure with Lady Catherine. He then followed as far as Rosings Park but shortly thereafter felt he was being led a merry chase and returned to London. Meanwhile, I uncovered some rather nefarious legal issues involving Mr Atticus Younge. We responded to the earl with our proof that his physician’s reputation was hardly one that could stand legally against a Darcy and demanded your own physicians be included before any such diagnosis be noised about. I like to think the action delayed the earl in his immediate plans, and he lost you before he could simply hire a more reputable physician.”
Darcy smiled for the first time. “Good…man. Younge is…snake.”
“Oh, quite so. In truth, I believe Matlock has now retreated from all his former plans. He lost control of you, of the colonel, and of Miss Darcy. His visit to Bingley was a lame attempt to reassert himself, and what did he find? Not only were your friends standing with you, but he could not even intimidate the formerly docile Miss Darcy into falling in with him. Your sister’s defiance was an enormous shock, I would say. Truthfully, he has nothing to gain, except the loss of his own family’s reputation, if he betrays the Darcys with accusations of insanity.”
“Georgie…come home. Pember-ley.”
Gardiner’s expression grew pensive. “Yes, there is no reason she should not. Except one, perhaps. I believe she is my niece’s only real friend in the world. I think you owe Lizzy that, at least.”
