Chapter Twenty-Six

Elizabeth

23 rdh March 1812

“I would like to avoid Sheffield,” Jane said as they planned the trip ahead. “I’d rather not see all the buildings and streets Charles spoke of. It would only remind me of him.”

Elizabeth nodded and crossed Sheffield off the list of places they wished to visit. After a pleasant weekend they had decided to plan for the trip in earnest.

“Madam,” the butler’s clipped voice broke through the excited chatter, “you have a caller. Shall I show them in?”

Aunt Gardiner rose to her feet, “Thank you Algernon. Them, you say? That is rather curious, we weren’t expecting visitors. Do excuse me girls, I shall see who it is,” she said as she followed Algernon to the entrance hall.

A few moments later her aunt returned. “Jane, Elizabeth, we do indeed have callers,” she announced. Her wary visage and the way she bit her lip betraying the obvious tension. “Mr Bingley and a friend.”

Elizabeth glanced at Jane. Her sister’s face was drained of colour, her eyes wide with shock. “Mr Bingley?” Jane whispered. “Why would he call on me? Why now?”

Elizabeth reached out and squeezed her sister’s hand. “Perhaps he has heard you are in Town and has come to make things right.” She said, hoping this was true. Weeks ago, she would have told Mr Bingley to leave her sister be, but now she had to admit, she wished for her sister to have at least a sense of finality. Knowing she might never get such a resolution with Georgie had shown her just how important it was for her sister to have the possibility.

“This is your chance, Jane. Go and speak with him. You deserve to know his intentions. And at the very least, you can tell him how upset you were with him. Do you wish me to join you?”

Jane nodded, her fingers trembling slightly as she placed her teacup on the table.

“Yes, please,” she mumbled. Then, together, they rose and stepped into the hall, Elizabeth’s heart pounding with.

They entered the drawing room and Elizabeth spotted Mr Bingley pacing before the fireplace. He looked as handsome and charming as ever, though genuinely troubled as he walked grooves into the floor.

“Mr Bingley,” Jane said softly and he stopped. The moment he spotted Jane, his face lit up as did hers, and Elizabeth knew at once that the two of them still held affection for one another. Perhaps she had been wrong to judge Mr Bingley and perhaps her sister might still find her happy ending with this man. Yes, indeed perhaps—

“Elizabeth,” a familiar voice interrupted her musings and she looked up at the man who’d stepped out from the corner where he’d been looking out of the window.

“Ge…Georgie?” the name hardly crossed her lips as she backed a step.

Her mind raced, trying to process the sight before her. It could not be. Why was he here? And with Bingley? “What are you doing here?”

Georgie’s eyes met hers, a mix of relief and determination in his gaze. “I’ve found out who I am, Elizabeth,” he said.

Who he was? Was he not Mr Wickham after all? She felt as though the entire world was spinning around her and she wasn’t sure if she should be happy, upset, scared, or elated.

Elizabeth blinked, her heart leaping with a flicker of hope. “You aren’t Mr Wickham?” she asked. Could this be true? Could they have been wrong?

He shook his head. “No, I am not. I came upon two young ladies, sisters to Bingley here, and they knew me. I’ve been wrong to think I might be Wickham. We all were. It’s been a few days since I found out, but it is the truth.”

Elizabeth clasped her hand around Jane’s, a smile breaking out on her face. She had been wrong to fear the worst. Oh, how terrible a person she had been to think her Georgie could be a rake, a horrid blackguard.

“Oh, Lizzy,” Jane said beside her, squeezing her hand. “How wonderful. And Mr Bingley, we must thank you for this, I imagine.”

However, as Elizabeth’s eyes flickered to Mr Bingley, she noted the tension in his shoulders, reflected in Georgie’s own. Why hadn’t he rushed to her to hug her yet? Was it because of the company? Or was there more? Then, it came to her.

He wasn’t Mr Wickham, but he hadn’t told her who he was. Bracing herself, she took a breath. “If you are not Mr Wickham, then, who, pray tell, are you?”

Georgie looked at his shoes and it was only then she noted the difference in his attire. He wore a fine suit with a striped silk waistcoat. A golden pocket watch peeped out of his pocket and he held a top hat in his hand. His attire spoke of wealth. Immense wealth.

“I am Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

The words hit Elizabeth like a physical blow, and she felt as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet.

“Oh, oh…” she stammered and swayed slightly.

Jane, sensing her sister’s distress, stepped closer, her concern evident. “Lizzy, are you all right?”

Elizabeth nodded weakly, struggling to regain her composure. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. It’s just… You are Mr Darcy.” How could this be? This was worse! Mr Darcy was a horrible man who inserted his nose into things that did not concern him. A man who had judged her sister harshly without meeting her. But then, her thoughts went back to Miss Darcy’s letter and the praise bestowed upon him.

Mr Bingley stepped forward, his gaze earnest as it rested on Jane. “Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, I know this is a lot to take in but it is true. Darcy here has been missing for weeks and my sisters met him quite by chance. It was serendipitous, indeed. I hope you can forgive my sudden appearance but when he told me he had been staying with your family and that Jane was here —” he turned his gaze to her. “I had to see you. There is so much I need to say.”

Jane blushed. “Mr Bingley, I- I thought you would have known by now I was in Town and chose not to see me.”

Mr Bingley smiled, his eyes filled with affection. “I did not know you were here. I only heard a few days ago and I couldn’t stay away any longer. I thought surely Darcy’s appearance was a sign that I had to come here. Please, Jane, will you give me a moment of your time so we might speak in private? I know there are things Darcy wishes to tell your sister in private also.”

Elizabeth stared at her sister and wanted to beg her to stay, for she did not want to stay alone with Georgie. Or Mr Darcy. Whoever he was. However, she knew she could not impose upon her sister now, in what might be one of the most important moments of her life. Thus, she let go of her hand.

“It is quite alright,” she said and watched as Jane led Mr Bingley into the adjacent music room, their aunt following as a chaperone, positioning herself between the door so she could serve as such for both of her nieces.

Elizabeth’s attention shifted back to the man she now knew as Mr Darcy, her mind racing with questions. “Georgie,” she began, her voice shaking, “I can hardly believe it. I do not know what to say.” She realised she’d called him by the wrong name and wanted to correct herself but calling him Mr Darcy made her stomach clench.

“I do not know what to say, Elizabeth. I did not know, truly. I did not. I still do not know who I am. I mean I have been told and I have been to my home, it seems I have a home in Town with a lot of fine clothing, and books and…” he shrugged. “It is quite extraordinary. I am told it is all mine but I can’t believe it. I feel like a fraud wearing this suit, though I found it in a closet in my chamber. I have a footman and an estate in Derbyshire, if you can believe it. I seem to be rather rich indeed, I could take us on any trip we want and I have a family…” The smile on his face touched her heart because it belonged not to Mr Darcy but to Georgie, the man she’d come to love. And the way he spoke about his newfound wealth was so unaffected, as if he could not believe it. He sounded so much like her beloved Georgie.

And yet, he was Mr Darcy. And she knew what sort of man he was.

“You have a family,” she said and crossed her arms, feeling the walls rise up around her heart.

Mr Darcy nodded. “Yes, Elizabeth. The blonde woman I saw in my flashes was my sister, Georgiana. I cannot remember her but I saw paintings of her and I know it is she. She has written to me already from our aunt’s home—can you believe that Lady Catherine, who had me believe I am Wickham, is my aunt? I shall have to talk to her about that when I see her. In any case, I know who I am, though I cannot remember. But perhaps once I see my home I will.”

She looked up, her tongue running over her teeth as she thought of something to say. “You are returning home?”

He met her gaze, “I am. My aunt and sister will set off for London tomorrow and then we will all travel to Pemberley—which is my home—and we will go there to see if they can help me remember. The physician thinks now that I know who I am, seeing my surroundings will help me.”

She swallowed hard, trying to wrap her head around what had just been revealed. He was Mr Darcy. Her sweet Georgie. How could this be? And why wasn’t she angrier?

“I see. But how did you come to be wearing Mr Wickham’s coat? And how did you come to be where we found you?”

He shook his head slowly. “I do not know the answer to your first question. For the second, Bingley tells me I offered to come to Netherfield to meet with Mr Morris to finalise the closing of the estate. It is ironic that I came to meet with him after all, but not as myself.”

“I suppose we might never know,” she said quietly, her thoughts racing. “So, you are leaving tomorrow?”

“I am, but Elizabeth—one of the reasons I am here is not just because I wanted to tell you in person. Indeed, I just found out you were here. When I first told Bingley that Jane was in Town, he wanted to come here at once. He made enquiries to find out how long she was staying as he did not want to miss her and found that you were here also. Thus, we decided to come together—however, I wanted to first figure out what I could do about everything.” His words came tumbling out and he raised a hand to stop himself. “I meant I wanted to first arrange everything. There has been so much uncertainty between us and I cannot make you go through more, so I wanted to have everything in place before I came here.”

“Have things in place?” she asked, utterly confused now.

“I know that you think you hate me and knowing that I was the reason for your sister and Bingley to part makes me hate myself. And certainly, my actions against your sister are unforgivable. But still, I feel strongly that I am not as bad as we thought. I have been assured by my sister, and Bingley, and others that I am not a terrible man at all and I think you will see I am simply Georgie, just richer and more elevated.” He smiled but she saw something in his eyes that gave her pause. He was scared. Scared of whatever he wanted to say next.

“Elizabeth, I have been worried about seeing you for days because I fear you might hate me still but I feel that we can find a way. I can show you that I am the man you think I am. I am not a bad man, truly. And I want to marry you still. I want to be with you and thus I’ve instructed my aunt to make arrangements at Pemberley for you, for us. That is, if you would still have me?”

Elizabeth’s lips parted. He wanted her to come to Pemberley with him? Her mind whirled with confusion. Mr Darcy—her Georgie—was asking her to come to Pemberley with him. To leave everything behind and plunge into a future fraught with uncertainties. She could hardly believe it.

“I hardly know who you are,” she argued. “How can you expect me to come to Pemberley with you?”

“I am still the same man, Elizabeth,” he insisted gently. “I am Georgie. I am the man you love, just with another name.”

“But I have hated Mr Darcy for so long. There is enough of evidence to suggest that he was a haughty, arrogant man.”

He nodded, his expression sombre. “I have examined my actions, and they were foolish. But I am sure I have learned from my mistakes.”

“How can you be so sure?” she challenged, her eyes flashing. “What if you regain your memories and decide you were right to part Jane and Mr Bingley?”

“I would never,” he vowed. “Besides, Bingley wants to marry Jane—he is proposing to her right now!”

Elizabeth’s heart swelled with joy at the news, but it was quickly overshadowed by the chaos of the past few weeks. “I am glad to hear it, but I find this hard to reconcile, there has been so much uncertainty.”

“There was disagreement, certainly, but you still agreed to marry me,” he reminded her softly.

“I was wrong,” she whispered. “When I thought you were a rake named Mr Wickham, it all came crashing down. What if it happens again?”

“This time it is different. I know who I am, and others know who I am.”

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I cannot allow myself to risk it. What if you regain your memories and are aghast about marrying someone like me? If you thought my dear sister was an unsuitable match for your friend, then where does that leave me?”

He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. “Elizabeth, please reconsider. Come to Pemberley with me. See that I have changed.”

She was torn. She loved Georgie, but she couldn’t forget the pain of the last few weeks when she thought he was a terrible man and she had made a mistake loving him. How could she be sure she wasn’t wrong now? How could she risk her heart again? And how could he?

The idea that he could one day wake up and remember who he was and revert back to the man who thought her beloved Jane not good enough for Mr Bingley grew in her mind. “I cannot, I will not come to Pemberley with you. I loved you, and I was happy with you… with Georgie,” she said. “But I cannot risk my heart again for an uncertain future.”

“Elizabeth, please,” he begged.

But she turned and fled, tears streaming down her face as she rushed to her chamber. She could hear him calling after her, but she couldn’t stop. The pain in her chest was unbearable, the weight of her decision crushing her. She had loved him with all her heart, but she couldn’t endure the torment of uncertainty again. She collapsed on her bed, sobbing, the ache of her broken heart echoing in the silence of the room.