Chapter 19

"The nerve of that girl! Can you believe she would barge into this house like that and presume to tell you what to do?" Mrs Younge said as they entered the drawing room after supper. "Backward, impudent little chit," she mumbled for good measure.

Georgiana swallowed hard. It had been difficult to see Elizabeth, looking so hurt and so sincere in her worry. She had almost been convinced that her concern was genuine. Then Mrs Younge had explained the whole to her, stating that Elizabeth was jealous. Had she not seen them walking through Meryton together? Surely that was it.

Then why did she feel so unsure? Mr Wickham and Mrs Younge had both assured her it was the only way, and had at last explained the rift between Fitzwilliam and Mr Wickham. Her brother had refused to give Mr Wickham what her father had promised him. This way, he would have to give him the living and then some, so they might start their lives together. And it was a fact that Mr Wickham had not been granted the living of Kympton. Georgiana would not have thought Fitzwilliam would have acted so coldly, cutting him off with nothing, but it was a fact that he never did speak of poor Mr Wickham, who had also grown up at Pemberley.

"You love me, do you not? You told me you did," Mr Wickham had pressed when he had come to call a few days before. He held her hand between his, and it was all so overwhelming that she had agreed. Yet everything seemed to happen so quickly!

Perhaps Elizabeth was not entirely unjustified in her concern. "I do not think she is backward. She was only worried about me."

"You defend her?"

Georgiana's heart jumped with fright at the look on Mrs Younge's face. The expression of rage faded away in an instant, and Georgiana told herself she must have imagined it.

"Poor girl," Mrs Younge said sweetly. "I always thought that your brother raising you in isolation at Pemberley was to your detriment. Now I can see I was right."

Georgiana frowned. "You have only known me for a few months, Mrs Younge. You make it sound like we had been acquaintances for years."

Mrs Younge looked surprised, though only for a moment. "I only meant that when I came to interview for the position as your companion that I was surprised your brother did not often bring you out of Pemberley."

"I never wanted to leave Pemberley until you suggested we visit Ramsgate, and now Meryton. I was quite happy there," Georgiana said in defence of her brother. He was the most wonderful person in the world, and she would allow no one to speak against him. Even Miss Elizabeth Bennet had not done that, and she had the most cause to do so.

"Do not grow angry with me, my dear. I also have your best interests at heart. Many young ladies your age would fall over themselves to get a proposal at such a young age. Just think, you shall not have to go through the rigours and discomforts of the London Season in order to find a husband. You will be settled in a matter of weeks with a man who loves you. Indeed, I have never seen a man more devoted to winning a woman's heart, not even my Henry."

Mrs Younge went and paced behind the settee. Georgiana thought it odd. She had never spoken of her late husband by his Christian name. In Georgiana's mind, there had been no great love lost when her first husband had passed away, as he had been many years her senior. Should she trust that Mrs Younge was an authority on matters of the heart?

"My dear, you are staring off into nothingness again. I must implore you to forget Elizabeth Bennet and her upset this afternoon. She is simply a jealous, cantankerous young woman who wants to steal away your happiness. That is all. Forget her," Mrs Younge said firmly.

Georgiana nodded. "I shall," she promised softly. After tea, Mrs Younge excused herself, stating that she should alert Mr Wickham that Miss Bennet knew of the intended elopement. He would likely want to move up the date of their departure. It would somewhat put a damper on their plans, for he had wanted to gain a special leave of absence so his departure would not be noticed so quickly. But by the time the militia noticed he was gone, they would have crossed the border into Scotland. Shortly thereafter, they would be wed. Over the anvil, it was true, which was not a match for any of the girlish dreams Georgiana had had, and which would be a sad embarrassment to Fitzwilliam. But surely that did not matter if they loved each other.

Elizabeth's words came rushing back to her mind as she climbed the stairs to ready herself for bed. What would they do if Mr Wickham was branded a deserter? How would they live? Would his brother disown her once he found out what she had done? It was too terrible for her to dwell on.

With a heavy heart, she changed and nestled into the bed, keeping one candle burning to chase away the gloomy shadows. How she wished her mother were still alive. If she was, she would not feel so uncertain. Indeed, Mrs Younge would never have had to enter her life as a companion. Maybe she would have even had a sister to share her childhood with.

Mr Wickham understood her. They had grown up together and knew the heartache of losing both parents so young. And he loved her. She felt sure that she could trust this man who had come back into her life when she had felt so lonely and afraid. He would never leave her or turn his back on her, as the inhabitants of Meryton had done. And Elizabeth. Her betrayal and behaviour that afternoon only solidified her resolve. Mrs Younge had said if she were to be happy, she had to make her own way in the world. And this might be her only chance.

∞∞∞

"She knows, George."

Mr Wickham started as the female voice came from deep within the shadows of his tent. "Mrs Younge?" he hissed.

He went to the back of his tent and pulled her into the dim light of the moon. Thankfully, Denny was a deep sleeper, and only shifted slightly at the disturbance before beginning to snore. "What in heaven's name are you doing–?"

"She knows, I tell you!" Mrs Younge pulled her arm free of his grasp. "I do not know how she heard of it, but Elizabeth Bennet broke into the house today and confronted Georgiana about your plans to run away with her. We'll have to move up our plans."

"I have not got my leave approved yet."

"Well, you'll have to break some rules, won't you?" Mrs Younge sneered. "Who did you tell?"

Wickham swallowed hard. He had been speaking with Miss Lydia Bennet on the lane leading out of Meryton. She had tried flirting — a girlish attempt at temptation. She was a pretty thing, but nothing compared to the temptation of ￡30,000. To throw her off, he had told her he would be leaving Meryton shortly. And no doubt, she had not been able to keep the secret.

"Foolish girl!" he cursed. He raked a hand through his hair, angry with himself for entrusting his secret to that chit, Lydia Bennet.

"There is no sense in flying into a rage. We have to keep our heads," Mrs Younge said, her tone as cold as ice. "What are you going to do?"

Wickham turned to her with a snarl. "What I must."