Chapter 30

Drawing Room

Longbourn

20 th November, 1811

Snow whispered and tapped at the windowpanes, settling like confectioner's sugar over the ground outside and dusting gray branches. Inside the drawing room, though, the fire roared in the fireplace, devouring hefty oak logs and saturating the room with heat and light. Clinking china and feminine chatter filled the room as the Bennet women, along with Mrs. Montgomery, enjoyed tea with their visiting friends, Charlotte and Maria Lucas.

Maria sat between Lydia and Kitty on the couch, all three of their heads together while they giggled over their scones. An indulgent Mrs. Montgomery sat adjacent, nibbling delicately at a liverwurst sandwich, her teacup and saucer held steady on her knees with one hand. For now, the conversation revolved around the novels at the lending library and what the three girls had been reading, and Mrs. Montgomery stayed quiet. But she remained attentive, ready to interfere should the discussion take an indelicate turn or grew overly boisterous.

Mary, her elder sisters, her mother, and Charlotte Lucas spoke of Mary's upcoming wedding. Not much remained to be done, but Lady Lucas had raised her daughters to run their own home, and now they all sat comparing notes and considering Mary's upcoming duties to her parishioners.

A noise at the door distracted all of them, and they turned as Mr. Stewart entered. "Lady Lucas," he announced and retired.

Mrs. Bennet stood, smiling, and gestured her friend to a seat across from herself before reaching for the teapot.

Lady Lucas waited until everyone had been served tea and then said eagerly, "My dear Mrs. Bennet, you will not believe what I heard from Mrs. Long when she called at Lucas Lodge only an hour ago!"

Mrs. Bennet blew out a slow breath and forced herself to smile. She appreciated and liked Lady Lucas, but was not entirely at ease with the lady's determination to gossip about everyone in the neighborhood.

"Yes?" she prompted.

Lady Lucas's eyes grew wide, and she lowered her voice dramatically. "It has to do with one of the militia officers, Lieutenant Wickham!"

Elizabeth, who had been listening with half an ear, turned toward her neighbor and asked, "What about Mr. Wickham?"

This caused the other conversations to instantly cease, and Lady Lucas had the profound pleasure of imparting her news to numerous eager pairs of eyes. "Well, it seems that only yesterday, Mr. Wickham was hauled away to debtors' prison! He has, apparently, been in the habit of running up hundreds of pounds of debts wherever he goes and then absconding without paying so much as a farthing! What do you think of that?"

To her pleasure, her entire audience seemed appropriately awed, and Lydia was the first to speak. "I think it a great pity! He is so handsome and charming!"

"He has only been in the area for a short time," Charlotte remarked. "Surely he has not had time to run up many debts?"

"Not here, no, my dear! His debt receipts are from London and Derbyshire, and the gentleman holding those receipts is none other than Mr. Darcy! He arrived only yesterday with a Colonel Fitzwilliam and had Wickham dragged away to London, where I hear he will either be sent to Marshalsea or the King's Gate prison!"

Elizabeth gasped along with the other ladies, and Kitty, her eyes filled with sympathetic tears, cried out, "I think that is most unkind of Mr. Darcy to do such a thing to poor Mr. Wickham! It is not his fault that he cannot pay his debts!"

"That is not true, Kitty," Mrs. Montgomery said firmly. "A man with a small income must limit himself appropriately. There are plenty of servants and tenant farmers who make do with far less than one hundred pounds a year. For a single man to rack up hundreds of pounds and then leave without any attempt to repay those debts is most dishonorable and incredibly unkind to those who extended him credit."

"Absolutely," Elizabeth agreed. "Nor am I terribly surprised at this news. Certainly, Mr. Wickham is a handsome man, but I rather thought he might be dishonest based on his gossip about the Darcy family."

"Oh! What kind of gossip?" Lady Lucas demanded avidly, but Mrs. Bennet said firmly, "Indeed, Madame, I do not think we should repeat it. The man is obviously a rogue, and his words ought not to be trusted. Now, would you care for some more tea?"

/

Georgiana's Sitting Room

Darcy House

London

The Next Day

20 th November, 1811

Georgiana sank onto the settee in her sitting room, glancing around. Her maid was in the bedroom, expertly packing away clothes and trinkets with no need for her young mistress's instructions, and Georgiana had tactfully retreated and left her to it. Her personal sitting room was pleasant and more personalized to her taste than the one at Netherfield, but she still preferred the country house. The party had only been in London a short time, but already she was eager to leave crowded, smoky London and return to wide open spaces and singing birds and frosted trees outside the windows of her room at Netherfield Hall. A tap at the door drew her attention, and she glanced towards it.

"Come in," she called and was not surprised when the door opened to reveal her Cousin Anne. One of the blessings of the last weeks was that she was far closer to her older female cousin now, and they often spent time with one another, discussing their thoughts and hopes about their futures.

"Georgiana, I hope I am not disturbing you?"

"Not at all. Please do come in and warm yourself by the fire."

"Thank you," Anne said and did as she was ordered. Georgiana, watching her covertly, noted the shadows under Miss de Bourgh's eyes. She knew that the heiress of Rosings did not thrive in the London air, and the sooner they returned to the country, the better.

"I wished to speak to you about Darcy," Anne said abruptly.

"What about my brother?"

Anne grinned and said, "Much as I admire Darcy, I am of the view that he needs some encouragement to make good choices for his future life, and who better to encourage him than the two of us?"

Now Georgiana regarded her cousin with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. "Of what are you speaking, specifically?"

"His choice of a wife, of course!"

/

On the Road to Netherfield

The Next Day

21st November, 1811

The Darcy carriage had embarked at last and now rolled over muddy roads towards Netherfield, brown grasses hanging heavy with clinging rain-drops that had not yet dried in the anemic sun. Darcy swayed along facing towards the rear, having given up the forward-facing seats to his sister and to Anne.

He and Richard had seen Wickham deposited safely in Marshalsea, never to emerge. Wickham's terrified face still haunted Darcy, but he resolutely shoved it away. The man was a miscreant and a rogue, wending his way heartlessly across England, leaving in his wake ruined women and shopkeepers facing financial disaster. Even a few pounds could make all the difference to a less wealthy merchant, and Wickham never bothered to pay his debts, no matter how trifling or how large.

The man had made one more appeal to the memory of George Darcy, but he was hastily and harshly interrupted by Richard Fitzwilliam. It did nothing to ease the guilt and discomfort hanging heavy on Darcy's soul, but he squared his shoulders and firmed his resolve. His own good father had never known of Wickham's true nature, and if he had, he would have been both horrified and grieved to find out the kind of man the jolly boy had grown to be.

Upon returning to Darcy House, he had made immediate plans to return to Netherfield. Anne had become decidedly paler and more listless in Town, and Georgiana, as ever, far preferred the countryside to London. Darcy had bowed at once to their wishes, and the party set out the day after Wickham's imprisonment. He had not mentioned his own eager desire to return to the neighborhood of Meryton.

He had thought, upon departing for London, that his infatuation with Miss Elizabeth Bennet would soon cool. To the contrary, she occupied his thoughts with alarming regularity and often made an appearance in his dreams by night. It was not at all a satisfactory state of affairs, but he found himself entirely powerless to control his own heart. Indeed he was eager to return to Netherfield and Meryton, where he could enjoy her company once more.

"So, Darcy, are you pleased to be returning to Netherfield Hall?" Anne asked from her position in the forward facing seat, with Georgiana beside her.

"I am," he said. "The country air is most definitely better than the air in Town, and I look forward to Bingley's company again."

Surely it was not worth mentioning his thoughts of Miss Elizabeth.

"Bingley's company, yes," Anne said, her brown eyes flashing with humor. Darcy, watching her, was struck once more with how much his former fiancée had changed in the last weeks. She used to appear so frail, and her eyes were, in the past, dull with ill health and discouragement.

"I wonder," the heiress of Rosings continued, "whether there is, perhaps, another person you are excited about seeing again. A lady, perhaps?"

Darcy stared at her in amazement and shook his head. "I have no interest in Jane Bennet. Bingley…"

"Not Miss Bennet," Anne interrupted, grinning. "It is the next younger sister who has, I am confident, captured your attention."

Darcy felt his cheeks redden as he gazed incredulously at his cousin. How could she have guessed? Moreover, if Lady Catherine heard of his infatuation, it would be most inconvenient for the Bennets, especially as Mary Bennet was to be married soon to Lady Catherine's rector.

"What are you speaking of?" he demanded, and his tone was sufficiently haughty that Georgiana looked unsettled and shrank a little in her seat.

Anne, not at all dismayed at her elder cousin's brusque words, grinned and said, "Darcy, I know people are apt to ignore me as I am quiet and not particularly beautiful, but I do have eyes in my head. I have seen how you watch Miss Elizabeth. Moreover, I quite approve. She is a clever, charming young lady, and would do for you very well."

Darcy felt his mouth drop open in astonishment and turned an anxious look on Georgiana. Instead of confusion or dismay, he was treated to the startling sight of his sister nodding.

"You do gaze at her a great deal, Brother," she said timidly.

"I do not," he began and then sighed deeply. He was an honest man, and it pained him to lie.

"I do admire Miss Elizabeth," he confessed. "She is a wonderful lady, but her connections are poor and thus, as much as I esteem her, I am aware she is not an appropriate bride for me. There is no point in discussing it."

Anne snorted aloud at these words. "Darcy, truly, you are ridiculous at times."

"What?" Darcy demanded and glanced at Georgiana. Now his sister's brow was lowered, and she was shaking her head.

"Ridiculous," Anne repeated succinctly. "I appreciate that you are a slave to duty, but really, you are a gentleman, and she is a gentleman's daughter. In that respect, you are equal."

Darcy bit his lip and sighed deeply.

"It is not so easy and you know it," he argued, though his tone was uncertain. "Yes, in that respect, we are equal, but my mother was an earl's daughter, and Miss Elizabeth's mother is a solicitor's daughter. There is a vast difference in our stations. It would not be fair to Georgiana for me to choose a wife who cannot introduce her into Society when she comes out."

"If that is true, why were you willing to marry me?" Anne demanded. "You know that thanks to my poor health, I was never presented at court and never had a Season."

Darcy blinked and again glanced at his sister, who was looking thoughtful.

"It was my mother's greatest wish," he said simply, "that Pemberley and Rosings would be united in our marriage."

"As I said, you are a slave to duty, Cousin," Anne replied. "Now listen to me carefully. What would you say are your priorities during this time of your life?"

Darcy spoke without hesitation. "Georgiana and the estate are my priorities."

"Georgiana," Anne said, turning her attention on her younger cousin, "do you wish Darcy to wed a high society lady?"

"I do not," the girl quavered, her blue eyes fixed on her brother. "I spent several years in school with the young ladies of the upper echelons of society, and while a few of the girls were pleasant enough, most were proud and constantly denigrated others. I wish for a kind sister, not one of those ladies. And I wish for you to be happy, dear brother, which I doubt is possible if you were to marry a woman who loves only your money and position."

Darcy stared at his sister, then at his cousin, and then back at his sister. On the one hand, surely it could not be that simple, or that easy. He owed his estate, his name, and his sister, a wife who was trained from birth to help manage a great estate.

On the other, he greatly longed for a wife whom he truly respected and liked, whose company he enjoyed.

Who he loved.

He shook himself and considered that thought. Loved? Surely he did not love Elizabeth Bennet. They had known one another only a few weeks, after all.

And yet, he had been dreaming of her…

"Darcy," Anne said, drawing his attention. "I am not saying that you should marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but I do ask that you try to throw off the shackles of expectation from Lady Anne and Lady Catherine and from society. You are an unusual man, Cousin, and my view is that you need an unusual wife."

"How am I unusual?"

"You are intelligent, and fastidious, and clever, and a man of the country, not of Town. You despise gambling and vice. You are a good man, Fitzwilliam Darcy, but a peculiar one."

"And that is a good thing," Georgiana hastened to say.

Darcy, looking back and forth between the two ladies again, felt a smile spread across his face.

"Thank you, both," he said genuinely. "You have given me much to think of."