Chapter Sixteen

D arcy's carriage came to a halt near a set of large, heavy, wrought iron gates, which two men inside were already opening. As they waited, Fitz drummed his fingers against the bench, and Georgiana gazed out her window at the edifice and stifled a gasp. And well she should, for Carlisle House was not merely grand, it was enormous. Through Darcy's connection with his Fitzwilliam family, he had visited the residences of several dukes, and this building was only slightly less impressive in both craftsmanship and sheer size. Because it was so old, both the house and the land belonged to the earldom, a rarity in London, even for peers.

They passed through the open gates and arrived before the house. Fitz remained inside, and Darcy descended with a studied grace, schooling his features into a mask of polite reserve. He had always worked to maintain a polished veneer, at least, and he hoped that the tension in his shoulders did not give him away.

He assisted Georgiana as she stepped out of the coach, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she cast him an apprehensive look from beneath her bonnet's brim .

"Brother, I am not certain I wish to be in company today," she whispered. "What will I do if the other ladies are not as kind as the Miss Bennets and Miss Hamilton? I would not wish to humiliate myself again."

Darcy had the same concern. He wished to take his sister home, where he could be certain she was safe, but that would not help her. Instead, he attempted nonchalance. "There is a substantial yard and a gate between the house and the road, Georgiana. You will not get far."

His sister's eyes widened, and for a moment he was afraid she would burst into tears. But instead, a hand flew up to her mouth and she laughed.

It was a cheering sound, and Darcy took her gloved hands between his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "I trust Miss Elizabeth, Georgiana. She will help you along, and I have every confidence that you will find both acceptance and friendship here."

His sister hesitated before she managed a tremulous smile. "I shall endeavour to comport myself with all the grace and dignity you and Mrs. Ketterman have instilled in me. I promise."

"I know you will do well, dearest," he told her warmly, placing her hand on his arm and moving them both forward. "But please attempt to simply enjoy yourself. I trust that you will find no prying eyes or capricious tongues here, only loyalty and friendship." As he said the words, he realised that with Miss Elizabeth and her sister present, he actually believed them.

Some of the tension bled away from her posture, and before she could voice any further doubts, the door swung open and a group of five women stepped out, Miss Elizabeth Bennet among them. Garbed in a warm morning dress embroidered in wine-coloured thread and cut to enhance her figure, she fairly glowed with welcome as her eyes alit first upon Darcy and then shifted to his sister.

"Georgiana," she exclaimed in gently modulated tones, "you are the just the bit of sunshine we have been awaiting. Will you come inside? We are planning to begin in the music room. Jane plays the harp, Diana, Amelia, and I play the pianoforte, though Diana managed to find a copy of the Méthode complète pour guitare ou lyre recently and has also begun to use it to learn how to play the guitar—and Cordelia plays both a cello and the violin!"

"Truly?" Georgiana asked, any trepidation washed away.

"Oh yes," Miss Elizabeth replied with an impish smile. "Mr. Darcy, it is lovely to receive you amidst our circle once more, however transient the reunion may be." She eyed the carriage and then lifted a brow at him. He nearly laughed aloud at her, taking charge of his sister and shooing him away.

Wryly, he replied, "You are too generous, as always, Miss Elizabeth." He doubted that his cool delivery would disguise his friendly regard. This was the woman he had insulted—what an arse he had been. Most women—most men, come to that—would have held a grudge a great deal longer and exacted a terrible fee for his behaviour. But she had as much as explained that he was not important enough to her for his words to sting for long. And now, though she was friendly towards him, she was more interested in greeting his sister than she was in him.

Wise woman. Georgiana was in every way the better Darcy, and Miss Elizabeth would profit from knowing her. And he knew that the reverse was also true.

"When should I call back for my sister?"

"Oh, not for hours yet, Mr. Darcy. We plan to spend the entire day together."

Georgiana appeared a little faint at the idea, but before Darcy could make an alternative suggestion, Miss Elizabeth took Georgiana's hand. "There will be a quiet room for you if you wish to step away for a bit."

"Will no one be offended? "

"Not at all. I mentioned to everyone that there would be such a room as even my sister Jane requires restorative time every so often."

Darcy felt a surge of pride as Georgiana raised her chin and squared her shoulders, appearing, for the first time in his memory, truly poised. It made her look older than her fifteen years and was a glimpse into her future and his. It could all have gone so terribly, unalterably wrong, and now, a bit more than a week later, he had hope that she would truly find her footing. With a final, fleeting look to him for reassurance, she accepted Miss Elizabeth's proffered hand and permitted herself to be drawn into the group of waiting women. The ladies passed over the threshold and the door clicked shut behind them, leaving Darcy rooted to the spot for a moment, his thoughts working over the scene that had played out before him—Miss Elizabeth's unspoken promise to care for his sister's particular needs while coaxing her into strength and vibrancy.

He returned to the carriage and climbed inside. Fitz startled awake from the corner where he had been snoozing.

"Georgiana is in good company here," Darcy said. "Miss Elizabeth will see to her." He kept the image of his sister gaining her courage to himself for now. Fitz would only laugh at his imagination, and he was unsure he could explain it in any case. But he knew he could trust Georgiana here. And that was no small thing.

"Excellent. Our day will not be as pleasant, I fear."

"This conversation has been brewing for a very long time. It is best to have it rather than allowing it to continue to fester."

"As much as she has angered me, my sister is not an infection, Darcy."

Darcy said nothing, and Fitz crossed his arms over his chest. "Have it your way."

He took Fitz at his word and remained silent. His cousin expressed anger in a volatile way that threatened to ignite, but then burned out, while Darcy's ire was a slow-burning fire fuelled with coal rather than wood. It did not burst into flame, it did not erupt—it glowed, white-hot and long-lasting.

As the gates closed behind the carriage, a subtle widening of Fitz's nostrils was the only outward sign of his resentment and distress. He clasped his hands together and rested his forearms on his thighs as he leaned forward. "I could wring her neck," he murmured. "But I am her brother. I am allowed."

"Were it not for Lady Carlisle's intervention, the gossip would be unbearable, particularly for Georgiana. But even Lady Carlisle's reach has its limits. Your sister cannot be permitted to spread her poison any further."

"I believe we are all aware of that, Darcy."

They did not speak again until they reached Matlock House. Milton spied them in the hall and came to join them. "Shall we beard the lion in his den?"

The earl was standing by the window in an attitude Darcy recognised, for he adopted it himself more than he cared to admit. His uncle was looking out over the street, his hands clasped behind his back. "You are here to speak about Henrietta, boys?"

"It is time, is it not?" Milton inquired drily.

Darcy certainly agreed. "Loath though we may be to confront it, Lady Henrietta's conduct was unconscionable. She was both calculated and malicious in her behaviour towards Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth. She was more interested in hurting them than in Georgiana's welfare."

The earl pinched the bridge of his nose. "There was talk at the club. Lord Carlisle himself pulled me aside to discuss what the Carlisles intend to do. He mentioned you were already aware, Darcy."

"Aware and participating, Uncle. Georgiana is visiting with the ladies at Carlisle House even now. "

The older man nodded. "Good, good."

Milton leaned on the edge of his father's desk. "Anything we plan will be futile unless we convince Henrietta to desist with this campaign she has waged against Miss Elizabeth. I have never understood why she feels such enmity for the girl."

"Lady Henrietta has denounced the Bennet ladies both privately and publicly," Darcy replied. "In light of recent events, I shall have no scruple in doing the same to her should she continue. I would hope to avoid that."

The earl dipped his chin in acknowledgement. "Well, we shall take matters in hand."

"With Father and Milton united with us, Darcy, Hen will find her follies are no longer so easily dismissed." Fitz rubbed the back of his neck.

"Regardless of any decisions made here today, gentlemen, Georgiana is my first priority. I have neither the temperament nor the tolerance to extend Lady Henrietta grace should she decide to act against her own best interest."

Lord Matlock turned to face Darcy, who met the earl's eyes with an unwavering gaze. His uncle was renowned for his unmoveable equanimity, even when being verbally abused or physically threatened in the House of Lords. He could face any crisis—political turmoil, investment risks, even lurid scandals, without batting an eye. But this difficulty with his daughter was etched in painful lines on his countenance.

Milton, usually no champion of his sister, stirred uneasily beside his father. "You speak plainly, Darcy. Before we take this step, is it possible that Georgiana's nerves might have contributed in some way to her reaction?"

"Her reaction," Fitz bit out tersely, "was completely in character, and reasonable given the circumstances to which she was subjected." He seemed to have forgotten that he had made Milton's argument himself not long before. "Hen knows how retiring Georgiana is and planned to ambush the Bennets in her presence."

"Yes, we are sure. No, my sister was not exaggerating." Darcy kept his tone deferential yet resolute. He would brook no evasion here, as much as his uncle would like to believe his daughter would not deliberately defy his edict to cease her public insults of Miss Elizabeth. "My cousin's slanders were deliberately intended to wound. Unfortunately for her, the Bennet ladies care so little for her good opinion that they were not much hurt, but the stones she hurled at the Bennets instead struck Georgiana. My sister was so shocked by and ashamed of her cousin's cruel remarks that she slipped away, in great distress, without even being noted. It was a reprehensible breach of Lady Henrietta's promise to see to Georgiana's comfort and safety, duties that were instead performed by Miss Elizabeth."

Milton held up his hand in a conciliatory gesture. "Peace, Darcy. I am as angry as the both of you and intended no disparagement. I merely suggest a bit more patience before you give Henrietta the cut direct. For all our sakes."

Darcy cleared his throat quietly. "Discretion is well and good in diplomatic affairs. But in such cases as these, circumspection must give way to inquiry and, if warranted, action."

The earl nodded, resigned. "You have performed an inquiry, then?"

"We spoke both to Georgiana and Lady Carlisle, who was informed of it all by one of the Amberleys' maids who was present in the room. Laramie, the Carlisle House footman who always accompanies Miss Hamilton, confirmed a part of it. And though it took a great deal of effort, your daughter's companion Mrs. Smith also verified the report."

The rap of knuckles against the door drew their attention.

"Enter," called his uncle .

A footman opened the door, and Lady Henrietta swept in, all defiance. She came to an abrupt halt as she took in the stern countenances of her father and brothers before turning her gaze to Darcy. His expression must have been as thunderous as the emotions he felt, for her posture stiffened and she looked away.

"You asked for me, Father?" Lady Henrietta's tone bordered on insolent.

"I did," his uncle said. He levelled an icy glare at his daughter. "You will explain what happened with your cousin Georgiana during your visit to Miss Amberley's."

A flicker of discomfort appeared on her delicate features before a mulish expression returned. "If Georgiana is too childish to withstand a few innocuous jests, that is hardly my fault."

"I might disagree about which of you acted more childishly, Hen." Fitz crossed his arms over his chest. "You called the Bennets ‘beggars,' did you not?"

"We were discussing another family entirely." Lady Henrietta mimicked Fitz's posture and rolled her eyes for good measure. "It is not my fault if Georgiana did not understand. She might have asked."

"Georgiana is well aware of the paltry trick that common gossip-mongers use, making up a name for those sitting just before them and proceeding to insult them," Darcy said coolly. "You said these were the Harris girls, and Miss Elizabeth mentioned two sets of Harris sisters, both of whom it is rather impolitic to be insulting. Did you truly mean to speak of them?"

The earl sighed heavily. "You are fortunate the Bennets and Miss Hamilton are not the gossiping type themselves, Henrietta, or I would be hosting two angry families, and what would I tell them?"

"That it is all a misunderstanding, of course," Lady Henrietta replied blithely .

"That would be a lie. Are you suggesting that I prevaricate to protect you from the consequences of your actions? For I will not do that."

Lady Henrietta was even now unmoved, which incensed Darcy.

"More importantly, you were entrusted with my sister's care. She is your young cousin, for heaven's sake. You promised to look after her, and you could not manage to do so for less than an hour!"

"Why is she even being sent on calls?" Lady Henrietta asked, exasperated.

"Because I thought attending a brief morning call with the female relation nearest her age would be good for her, a way to slowly prepare her for coming out in a few years. Miss Amberley's family is known to us, and your morning calls seldom last more than a quarter of an hour. I explained all of this when I made my request. Why did you agree to take her if you did not want her?"

Milton rubbed his hand over his eyes. "You wanted an audience, Hen. Father forbade you to insult the ladies publicly, and this was privately—but you wanted Georgiana on your side, because none of us are."

This was met by Lady Henrietta casting her eyes to the ceiling. "I thought Georgiana might learn something about the way things work for women, something none of you understand."

"You are right about that," Fitz grumbled. "And if this is the way they go about things, I am grateful I do not."

Lady Henrietta addressed Darcy. "I believed that you asking me to invite her along meant Georgiana was old enough, Cousin. I did not realise I would have to act as her nanny, and it is unfair of you to ask it of me. Mrs. Smith was there. She ought to have kept better watch."

Milton shook his head. "Oh come now, Henrietta, we all know that Mrs. Smith is naught but your silent shadow, meant to lend you an air of propriety. Georgiana was your charge. "

This was met by an exasperated sigh.

Before Darcy could speak, Fitz snapped. "She is but fifteen , you contemptible child. Still young and in need of gentle female guidance, not . . ." he broke off, his fists clenched at his side.

"If not for the swift actions of Miss Elizabeth, your cousin could have met with a serious injury, or worse." The earl's disappointment was writ across his face. "And you have not shown an ounce of contrition for the hand you had in it."

Lady Henrietta stood, petulant and unrepentant, awaiting her sentencing.

"You have fallen woefully short of what is expected of a lady in the Fitzwilliam house, Henrietta. Your behaviour reflects poorly on your character and our family name."

Fitz produced the cloak that Darcy thought had been disposed of and shook the muddied, torn garment in Lady Henrietta's face. "Is this the proof you require of the seriousness of our claim? The near tragedy Miss Bennet narrowly averted at great risk to herself?" He held up the damaged portion for her close inspection. Lady Henrietta shrank back and looked away.

"What is that?"

"That is the proof of the danger you have so cavalierly dismissed," Darcy informed her. "Miss Elizabeth's cloak, sullied beyond repair by the wheel of a coach, because she flung herself into its path to preserve my sister's life." He took the cloak and shook it. "This is how close they came to being ground under a wheel."

Lady Henrietta's pallor demonstrated that at least she was not entirely unreachable. Her gaze fell upon the ruined fabric, and she reached out to draw the damaged part to her for a closer examination. For the span of several heartbeats, the only sound in the room was of the men, breathing, shifting, waiting.

She tossed the cloak from her. "Had I been there, I would have done the same. Anyone would."

Milton shook his head. "You were there, sister. You simply chose not to follow your cousin when she left the room."

"Enough." The earl's deep voice lanced through the oppressive atmosphere. "That you would have done something means precisely nothing. Here is what did happen—you were so busy attacking Miss Elizabeth, who by every right ought to be among your closest acquaintances, that Georgiana managed to stand and leave the room without you even realising it. How long did it take until you saw that she was gone? Or did you not realise it at all until you were told?"

This produced an ugly expression that surprised Darcy a little with its vitriol. "I have always known that you admire the Bennet girls, particularly the little dark one." A mutinous light flared in Lady Henrietta's eyes. "You fawn upon them and Georgiana with more solicitude than you have ever shown me."

"That is unforgivably unjust," Milton interjected.

"It is perfectly just!" Lady Henrietta's outburst rent the air, her haughty control shattering with a shocking abruptness. "Since Mother died, you want nothing to do with me, any of you. You packed me off to that horrible school not three months after she died, and you sent me to another as soon as I was recovered from the fire. When at last I came home, you passed me off to a few masters and a tiresome companion. But Miss Elizabeth is a heroine. Miss Elizabeth's great bravery is such a marvel! You are so greatly indebted to her that you must send her a fortune. And again, I am relegated to an embarrassing afterthought. "

The earl was utterly expressionless while Fitz and Milton exchanged wary looks, as if uncertain whether to intervene.

It was Darcy who broke the stalemate, his voice remarkably even despite the circumstances. "You speak from a sad misunderstanding, Cousin. No one present lauds Miss Elizabeth to spite you. She has earned our gratitude and admiration by her own merit."

"She is an impertinent nobody whose brazen tongue betrays her lack of breeding and refinement."

Fitz lifted his head. "Ah. So she does not take orders from you, then?"

Lady Henrietta's nostrils flared, and she opened her mouth to speak before her father's measured words cut through her planned reply.

"Hold your tongue, daughter." He sat and leaned back in his chair, regarding her shrewdly. "Let us return to the subject of your outburst. You believe the absence of your mother left you bereft of fatherly oversight and affection?"

Lady Henrietta responded with a jerky nod.

The earl exhaled heavily. "I suppose that is partly true." He waved off his sons' objections. "Your mother was a wonderful woman, and she was very much looking forward to raising a daughter. When she died, she left a void I was ill-prepared to navigate. Your brothers were already well grown, and I know what it is to be a boy. But a daughter—a young girl at that—she requires feminine guidance. I would have asked my sister Anne for assistance, but she was herself dead by then, and I knew not what to do."

Darcy closed his eyes. The loss of his parents still ached, like a hole in his chest where the wind blew through. Thanks to Fitz and Miss Elizabeth, though, he allowed himself to simply feel it.

"I will be the first to own my shortcomings in that regard." The earl frowned. With a rueful air, he continued, "But you were never an afterthought, Henrietta. The steps I took to ensure you were prepared for life as a grown woman were misguided, perhaps, but they were all founded in an earnest desire to provide for you the best opportunities I could. School was intended to teach you the social graces and offer you the female mentorship I could not. Mrs. Buxton came highly recommended."

The earl paused, holding Lady Henrietta's sulky stare without flinching. "And I will admit before all of you that I am indeed profoundly indebted to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but not for the reasons you seem to believe. I owe her everything because to lose you would have destroyed me, Henrietta." His eyes welled with tears, and he forced them back. "I do not know if I could have survived it."

A stunned silence greeted this revelation. Even Fitz appeared taken aback.

Lady Henrietta recovered first, confusion and incredulity mingling in her countenance. "Then why did you send me away again?"

"Because you required another year to finish your education before you began to work with masters." The earl's voice broke. "But I placed you in a school here in London and then resided in town for the remainder of your time there. I was never more than a twenty-minute ride away. I wanted to do what was best for you, but I could not bear to be far away."

"And the funds you allocated to the Bennets?" she asked heatedly.

This was also news to Darcy. Milton and Fitz appeared surprised as well. Was he the source of their fortunes? Had the earl really given forty thousand pounds to the Bennets?

"I made certain provisions for Miss Elizabeth out of respect for her bravery. Despite being younger than Georgiana is now, she raced back into the heart of an inferno to drag you to safety. There are many men full grown who would have left you to die, especially after you ignored her first warning and returned to bed. "

Darcy's mind reeled. Miss Elizabeth had escaped and then returned to the fire?

"And before any of you ask, I contributed to a fund set up by several other families whose daughters she also saved. I did not empty the earldom's coffers. The fund was specifically for Miss Elizabeth, but she insisted on sharing it with her sister, and they seem to have invested well."

"Did you remove those monies from my fortune, Father?" Lady Henrietta inquired primly.

" No ." His uncle's voice rang with finality. "And you will kindly recall that until the funds are signed over to you at the age of twenty-five or marriage, it is not your money, but mine. The account is more than ample, but nothing has been irrevocably settled upon you yet." After a moment, his expression gentled. "You were never less beloved or valued than your brothers, my girl. You were simply given guidance as best I knew how—which is to say, poorly but with every good intention. There was no malice or even indifference intended."

Lady Henrietta's lower lip trembled as her head dropped. A pensive silence fell over the room, and no one dared to end it until she rose to make a stiff curtsey. "You have given me much to ponder, it seems," she said, her voice still strong but no longer angry. "I shall take my leave, if you please."

The men did not seek to impede her retreat as she fled the room with as much decorum as she could muster.

A collective sigh greeted the soft click of the door as it closed behind her.

"Well," Milton said, casting his eyes heavenward. "That could scarcely have gone more appallingly."

"Enough." The earl sounded weary as he sank into the chair behind his desk. "This matter shall require delicate handling in future. But it clarifies Henrietta's attitude, which had always puzzled me. I fear I am much to blame for her jealous state of mind. "

Milton and Fitz exchanged a glance with Darcy and then each other, but they all remained respectfully quiet as Lord Matlock continued.

"In my ineptitude, I raised her much as I did the two of you—sent her off to school at too tender an age, expected it to toughen her spirit as it would a son." He ran a hand absently through his greying hair. "I did not fully appreciate that for a young lady, such treatment might breed resentment rather than resilience."

"Father," Milton replied, "she was free at any time to discuss her unhappiness with you."

"Was she? I have always given much of my time to politics, and when your mother died, instead of spending more time with you all, I threw myself into more work, more alliances, more time away from home. You were finishing university, and Richard was about to begin, but Henrietta was only ten."

"The past cannot be undone," Darcy said. "Dwelling on regrets serves little purpose."

Fitz snorted. "She is assuredly not a young girl now, Father, and has not been for some time."

"Our focus must be on mitigating the damage her venom has caused, not only for Miss Elizabeth, but for Georgiana as well. It is too soon for my sister to be out, but she will have to be seen at appropriate times and places, often but not solely in Miss Elizabeth's company." Darcy was not unhappy about this solution, but he could only pray that it worked.

"And Miss Elizabeth will need to be seen in your company as well," Fitz added.

"And mine," Darcy agreed. "With the rest of you."

"That is no hardship," Milton quipped. "My friendship with Simon and his family is well-known. "

"You all already know that Lord Carlisle assigned me to be Miss Elizabeth's friend. I am sure none of you will be surprised that I made several highly stupid remarks to her in the course of fulfilling that demand."

"More than just the insult at the ball?" Fitz asked, one side of his mouth curling down. "Darcy, that was an egregious statement. Please tell me it was no worse—please tell me you have at least apologized for calling her family connections into question."

It ought to have happened a good deal sooner than it had, but Darcy did not tell Fitz that. "I have apologised, and she has accepted."

"That easy?" Milton inquired. "If so, she may be the most forgiving woman I have ever met."

Darcy smiled to himself. "She forgave me, but she made certain to tell me that it was only because I meant so little to her that she did not dwell on my idiocy overmuch."

There was a brief silence, and then his cousins and uncle were laughing at him.

"Well done, Miss Elizabeth," Milton chuckled.

"She is quite unlike any other lady I have ever met," Darcy admitted. "She requires that I behave like a gentleman and not depend upon my reputation to be treated as one."

The earl assessed him keenly. "Is that so?"

Darcy nodded. "I did not even know I was acting in such a way until she pointed it out to me."

"That is because you did not listen to me ," Fitz complained.

"You are not as pretty as Miss Elizabeth," Milton informed him.

Fitz nodded. "Point made."

Darcy addressed his uncle. "Whatever our history has been over the past month, Miss Elizabeth had proven herself a true friend to this family. I shall endeavour to be one to her in return. "

"Well spoken, nephew. It brings me solace to know that the Bennet women may rely upon your support in this. We shall do as the Carlisles have suggested and see Georgiana and Miss Elizabeth through any trouble that may lie ahead."