Chapter Forty-Six

M r. Darcy breathed deeply through his nose. He was mortified that he had vomited into the shrubbery in front of Matlock House, and was certainly in no hurry to return to his aunt and uncle's drawing room. What could he possibly say? What was there to say? Somehow, in all his imaginings of his reunion with his sister, it had never occurred to him that her young body would be swollen with his enemy's child. He did not know how to move past this.

Richard soon joined him. Sitting on the top step of the entryway, he beckoned Mr. Darcy to join him. Mr. Darcy obliged and the two sat in silence for several minutes.

"I did not expect that," Mr. Darcy sighed.

"Nor did I," Richard confessed. "And that does make me feel like a right idiot."

"I do not know what to do, Richard. I cannot live with her, not if she is having Wickham's child."

"Your love for your sister is mighty shallow, then," his cousin observed, calmly.

"How dare you! How can you say that?"

"Easily enough. She was seduced by a villain, the inevitable occurred, and when she is finally reunited with her family, her brother takes one look at her and runs outside to throw up his breakfast. She is in there crying her heart out."

"Oh, Lord," Mr. Darcy sighed. "I know, Richard, I know I am not behaving well. I am angry, and sad, and miserable, and I know not what else! But there is one thing that will make me feel better immediately."

"And what is that?"

"Dealing with Wickham," Mr. Darcy growled.

"Ah. Yes. Quite right. Have you any thoughts on that?"

"I was rather hoping you would simply run him through."

"If I thought I could get away with it, I would not hesitate."

"Very well; I shall make my own plans." And with that, Mr. Darcy rose and walked back into the house, with Richard behind him.

Mr. Darcy went straight to his sister. She was sitting on a sofa, face wet with tears. Mr. Darcy knelt before her and, taking her hands, said, "Georgiana, can you ever forgive me? I was just so – so surprised, and I reacted very poorly."

She rose and he got up as well. This time he hugged her, taking care to avoid contact with her belly. He told himself it was to protect the baby.

"Will you tell us what happened after – after Gretna Green?" Mr. Darcy asked.

"I will, but – well, now?"

"Yes."

The Countess rose; she closed and locked the drawing room doors.

Georgiana began her tale. The boarding house. Mrs. Younge. The housework. Her hands. Her clothes. At some point, she began to cry, but she continued her story through her tears. Finally, she spoke about finding the paper in Mrs. Younge's bottom drawer.

"Where is it?" Mr. Darcy spoke for the first time since she had started her tale.

The Countess reached into her skirt pocket and gave the paper to Mr. Darcy. He studied it carefully and then passed it to Richard.

"Very well; go on."

She then spoke about Mrs. Cartwright, and how she helped Georgiana escape, then her frantic hunt for Matlock House and the unkindness of everyone she met, and how she had taken a desperate dive under Mr. Robeson's arm to find her aunt. When she finished, there was a long silence. Darcy's face was in his hands.

He finally looked up and asked, "Has she been seen by a doctor?"

The Countess shook her head. "We have been waiting for your arrival."

"Dr. Phillips should be consulted; he will come here, so that she is not seen in his practice room."

The Countess nodded. "I agree. He is our physician as well as yours; he can be trusted. She then added, "There was another mention in the newspaper, which you might not have seen." She reached again into her pocket and took out the article.

Mr. Darcy read it and then handed it to Richard.

"Your thoughts?" the Earl asked.

"Doubtless both the articles were fed to the newspaper by Wickham," Mr. Darcy said.

"We thought this latest one might be the work of a neighbour who observed Wickham banging on the door and shouting."

"Either way, it should be easy enough to have the newspaper print a retraction."

Richard said, "I do not think it will be that easy." His glance rested on Georgiana's mid-section.

"If we hide her away until the babe is born?" Mr. Darcy asked.

"And then what?" the Countess demanded.

"Give it away, of course," Mr. Darcy said.

"She wants to keep the child."

"She wants to – what?!"

All eyes turned to Georgiana. "It is not her fault," she said, her voice shaking. "I will not give her up."

Her brother stared at her. "But it is Wickham's child!"

"It? SHE is also my child!"

"Your stubbornness on this subject makes the situation far more difficult, and it is already difficult enough," Mr. Darcy said, icily.

Georgiana shivered at his tone. It was as if Brother no longer loved her! Perhaps he no longer even liked her.

The Countess intervened. "She must marry someone who will be willing to claim the child, and then we will have the newspaper run a correction stating her husband's name, along with their apologies for printing that she had run off with a servant's son."

"Who might marry her, though? It must be someone we can trust absolutely," the Earl added.

"Meanwhile, shall I take her to Darcy House? The servants have been with us for decades; I trust their discretion," Mr. Darcy said.

The Countess argued, "She has already been seen by the servants here. Why add to the exposure?"

Georgiana sat, listening to her life being rearranged. She wanted to say that she was in no hurry to marry, particularly not some stranger, but she knew she had forfeited the right to an opinion.