Chapter Seventeen

Elizabeth

“A nd then he brought up Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth said with a prolonged sigh later that evening as she and Georgie walked the quiet road leading to Oak Mount.

“That Mr Darcy,” Georgie said. “The one who separated your sister from Mr Bingley?”

“The very one. You see, he is the nephew of Lady Catherine.”

“Ah, yes,” he said and snapped his fingers. “I do recall you telling me that.”

“It seems he has now abandoned his fiancée-to-be, according to Mr Collins. Lady Catherine’s daughter. She is to marry him.”

“He is to marry his cousin?” Georgie said, and Elizabeth nodded.

“I suppose nobody else will have him. Although it seems he does not want to have her either, since he appears to have avoided coming to visit the family. But he shall have to visit soon,” she said, turning on the path as Mr Collins’s voice echoed in her mind once more. As dreadful as the afternoon had been, at least she had been able to use her cousin’s endless ramblings to entertain Georgie by imitating her cousin for the better part of their walk.

“They are to be graced by the arrival of Miss Georgiana Darcy, Darcy’s sister, who is apparently the epitome of refinement. One can only hope that the poor dear does not have as poor a personality as Mr Darcy does,” she said and chuckled. However, Georgie did not respond with a chuckle as he had earlier. In fact, he looked at her with narrowed eyes.

“Georgiana Darcy?” he said, and his tone gave her pause.

“Does that name mean something to you?”

“No, it does not. For a moment, I thought perhaps it would, but it must simply be because Georgiana and Georgie are similar. But no. No images have appeared or anything of the sort.”

“Well, in time,” Elizabeth started, but Georgie shook his head.

“But what if I never remember? We cannot continue to assume that one day my memory might suddenly return. We cannot live in limbo either. Elizabeth,” he said, and took her hands in his. “These last two weeks with you have been wonderful. But I hate having to sneak away for time with you. Besides, your parents must know. I see the way your mother looks at me. She knows.”

Elizabeth could not deny this. It was easy to dismiss Mrs Bennet as overbearing, self-involved and an awful gabster. These assessments were not kind, though they were true. On the other hand, she was also a very perceptive and protective mother. Elizabeth had noted the way her mother looked at them as well, one eyebrow seemingly always raised.

“I understand. Perhaps we should speak to them, what do you think? I do not like hiding either. It gave me a thrill at first but I do always worry that someone will see us together and deduce that we are more than friends now,” she said, admitting it at last.

He wetted his lips. “Elizabeth, I do wish to speak to your parents. I wish to tell them what I have told you—that I admire you and that I wish to court you officially. And I wish…” He paused and suddenly Elizabeth stood ramrod straight. Her entire body tensed and her stomach contracted. Was he going to propose?

But he couldn’t.

They had not known one another long enough. Although then again, Charlotte had agreed to marry Mr Collins within a week of meeting him. And Jane and Mr Bingley’s entire romance had stretched less than two months from their initial meeting in October to Bingley’s departure at the end of November.

“Elizabeth,” he called, drawing her back to reality.

“Yes, I… I…”

“Elizabeth, from the moment I opened my eyes, you have been there. Literally. You were the first face I saw when I woke up in this new world of mine where I know nobody, and nobody knows me. You’ve been with me from the beginning. You have nursed me back to health. You have helped me with my tasks. You have helped me find out what I am actually good at. You have done so much for me. And I know that I am not worthy and I cannot provide you with any kind of security for the future. Indeed, I do not know what our future might look like, but I know that, whatever my future is, I want to share it with you. Elizabeth Bennet, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

He had done it. He proposed. Before Elizabeth could spend another moment considering, her lips readily declared her answer. “Yes, I do. I want to be your wife.”

He pressed his lips upon hers and for a moment Elizabeth heard nothing but the chirping of the birds in the distant trees and felt nothing but the sound of her heart thumping in her chest against his.

It was madness, all of this, but she could imagine no better life than at his side. She knew what she wanted, with all her heart, mind, and soul. She, Elizabeth Bennet, would become Mrs George Wickham and nobody would stop her.

***

“Absolutely not!” Mrs Bennet said that evening when Elizabeth and Georgie had settled down in the drawing room with her parents and made their confession. Her father had taken it as he took everything in life—in his stride. He noted that the mystery of Georgie’s true identity may pose a problem to the couple getting wed, and that they would probably have to discuss the matter with the vicar and also seek legal advice from Mr Phillips, his brother-in-law. However, on the matter of the marriage itself, her father had no objections. Her mother, however, had declared that she had known all along but then immediately fell into a fit.

“Mr Bennet, you cannot seriously consider this. It is dreadful for Elizabeth,” she declared and crossed her arms like a petulant child.

“Why should it be dreadful for me, Mother? I adore him and he adores me. What more could you want for your child?”

“Elizabeth dear, you have never been a romantic dreamer like Jane or silly like Lydia and Kitty,” she said, acknowledging for the first time what the whole family already knew—that her younger sisters were silly indeed. “So I do not understand where this sudden flight of fancy comes from.”

“It is no flight of fancy. I love him and he loves me,” she said, smiling at him despite the tension in the room. It was odd, even though her mother glared at her, Elizabeth did not care for in Georgie’s eyes she found the comfort she needed to withstand her mother’s protests. In the end of the day, she knew, it wasn’t Mrs Bennet’s opinion that mattered anyhow. It was her father’s.

“Love,” Mrs Bennet said, and clicked her tongue, flicking one hand as if she had said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Love does not put food on the table or pay for a house. It does not give you security. And Georgie, how can you even consider marrying Elizabeth? With all due respect, you have nothing. You have no skills, you do not even have a name. Do you intend on living off our charity forever?”

“I had not considered asking for—” Georgie said quickly.

“Elizabeth,” her mother said. “I hope you do not expect your dowry to sustain you for heavens knows it is not much.”

“No, I did not,” she replied. “I do understand that this is highly irregular,” Elizabeth said, “but it is what it is. One of the reasons I declined Mr Collins’s offer was because I did not care for him. I care for Georgie. I want to marry Georgie.”

Her father let out a deep sigh. “Mrs Bennet, surely you can see that these two care deeply about one another. Elizabeth is correct. Georgie is a hard worker. Maybe not out in the field, but he has helped me make sense of the books. He has helped me run the estate more efficiently in only a few weeks. There is much more work to be done, and I have come to rely on him. I would like to rely on him more in the future.” He cleared his throat and raised a hand to silence his wife who was about to break into another speech.

“Outside of this home, there are others who can benefit from his skills. I am sure that Mr Morris, who has been looking for a caretaker for Netherfield since Mr Bingley decided he does not wish to purchase it, will give our Georgie the position if he wishes it.”

Her mother sat back and drummed her fingers on the table but said nothing in reply. Caretaker of an estate like Netherfield would come with use of a house on the grounds. A house Elizabeth and Georgie could make their own. And if he did well, whoever bought Netherfield eventually would most certainly keep him on in the future.

“And then there is always your brother, Mr Gardiner. He is a businessman and we cannot deny that Georgie has a mind for numbers. Certainly, he would be able to find a place for him in his company. Let us not forget I am a gentleman. I am well-respected. A recommendation from me would go a long way. If you could see yourself inspired to ask your brother-in-law, Mr Phillips, to also write one, I am certain employment would not be a problem. Besides, we might find out our dear Georgie is a rich fellow after all,” he said with a chuckle.

Elizabeth felt nothing but tenderness for her father in this moment. She knew she should appreciate her mother’s concern as well; indeed if she were her mother, she might have the same concerns. It was Georgie who spoke up and finally managed to put her worries at ease.

“Mrs Bennet, despite what you said in a moment of frustration, you have come to see me as a hard worker these past few weeks. I have heard you say it yourself. I do know that my circumstances do not make me an ideal match for Elizabeth, but I can promise you that I will always love her, and I will always look after her. If I must take a position mucking out the stables, I will do so. I do not think it will come to that since I am rather accomplished with numbers as we have come to find out. Besides, I believe you have come to know me as a man of character. Someone’s financial standing does not always speak of the kind of person they are, as we have learned by the example set by Mr Bingley. We have heard so much about his family members and friends, all of whom are rich and accomplished, but who are not of the best character.”

Georgie, Elizabeth decided, was a genius. For her mother had so come to despise Mr Bingley’s sisters and his friend Mr Darcy, that anyone who could speak against them eloquently was sure to have her attention and regard.

“Hang that Mr Bingley and his friend Mr Darcy right along with him,” she bellowed, “really was a dreadful disappointment. Poor Jane. Oh, our poor Jane. And that Mr Bingley, so gullible, so easily influenced by his wretched sisters and friend. I do not care how highly Mr Collins speaks of his patroness, her nephew surely is a terrible individual to say nothing of Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley.”

Georgie chuckled. “Well, that is something you will never have to worry about with me. I have neither family nor friends aside from this, so there shall never be anybody to influence me.”

Her father quickly placed a handkerchief in front of his mouth to disguise his amusement. Mrs Bennet seemed to have entirely forgotten her reservations as she sat there, unfolded her arms, and nodded. “Well, Georgie,” she said, “you are correct about that.”

Under the table, Georgie’s hand wrapped around Elizabeth’s and squeezed, and when she looked at him, she knew that for the two of them the future might be unclear, but it didn’t matter—they would bring light to it together.