Hope and Sensibility, page 9
It would not do. She was a woman. Her body’s reaction to merely being in his company, even in a room full of people, was confirmation of that. I must find a way to see him alone, outside of my sister’s company, and then I will know how he feels about me and determine how I, in turn, feel about him.
Darcy was livid!
He and Ben had returned from town earlier than planned and, wanting to surprise his wife, Darcy decided he would join her at the Philipses’ dinner party. What he had espied upon his arrival filled him with disgust. He was aware of the militia’s recent encampment just outside of Meryton, but he had no idea of its being George Wickham’s regiment. The last time he had seen his former friend was at Pemberley. Soon after his father passed, Darcy had given Wickham the value of the living that the elder Mr. Darcy had wished for his godson when Wickham made it clear he had no desire to take orders. It was money well spent as far as Darcy was concerned, for Wickham was not a principled man. His being granted the living would have been a travesty. However, Wickham later returned when the living became available, insisting that it ought to be his. Darcy would not hear of it. Wickham countered, demanding even more money. Darcy refused. All subsequent discourse had been so tarnished with vitriol and vile accusations that Darcy exiled Wickham from Pemberley forever.
How dare that reprobate ingratiate himself with my wife and my sister? It was all Darcy could do not to upbraid his former friend in view of everyone, but as it was a family dinner party and they were merely conversing, Darcy held his tongue. Instead, he kept his distance. Better I observe Wickham in order to know what he is about.
Darcy suffered a restless night. Seeing Wickham with his family had bothered him more than he would have anticipated, especially seeing him with Georgiana. What if she held Wickham in as high esteem as had their father? She had no knowledge of Wickham’s vile propensities. Perhaps she did not fully comprehend the depths of his distrust of George Wickham.
I have never told her what transpired between us. She only knows he is never to be received at Pemberley, for that is all I ever told her. Darcy intended to amend his lapse where his sister was concerned. The sooner I counsel her on how to regard that scoundrel, the better.
After breakfast the next morning, Darcy invited his sister to join him for a turn about the gardens. His purpose was two-fold: one, to spend time with her, for there had been very little of that of late, and two, to counsel her on how she ought to comport herself during their Hertfordshire visit. “I saw you talking with Mr. George Wickham at the Philipses’ home last evening.”
“I am sure you did. I spoke with many people at the dinner party. George was but one of them.”
“George?”
“How might you expect me to address him? Did I not enjoy many pleasurable hours in his company when he resided with us at Pemberley?”
“That may be true, but referring to a gentleman by his given name implies a certain familiarity.”
“Indeed, it does. But then again, George is much like family, is he not?”
Darcy’s muscles tightened. Family was the last thing he considered that reprobate. If his sister only knew the scoundrel like he knew him, she too would be appalled. “Georgiana, I do not wish to have you spend time with George Wickham.”
“Why ever not?”
“He and I did not part on the happiest of terms.”
“What can that have to do with me?”
“I do not think I should have to explain myself, young lady. I would simply ask that you trust me.”
“Did you fail to notice that he and your own wife were also engaged in rather amiable intercourse during parts of the evening? Have you given her the same admonishment?”
Darcy’s face filled with astonishment. When had his young sister learned to speak to him in so unguarded a manner? “As Elizabeth is my wife, I do not endeavour to tell her with whom she can and cannot associate. It is quite a different matter when it comes to you, young lady. As your guardian, it is well within my rights to tell you with whom you are to associate, and I do not intend to abdicate those rights anytime soon.”
Not wishing to do anything to perturb her beloved older brother, Georgiana thought it best to hold her tongue. She fully expected that her brother in all likelihood had spoken to Elizabeth about George, especially if he felt so passionately about the subject as to attempt to admonish her. She suspected Elizabeth had balked at his decree. Georgiana dared not be as bold with her brother as Elizabeth likely had been, but that did not mean she would heed her brother’s edict as easily as he expected.
George means far too much to me. He asked me to wait for him, and that is exactly what I have done. Now, when I am finally of an age where he and I can be together, I intend to do everything in my power to see that we are—the wait is over.
As far as she was concerned, if an extended passage of time preceded her brother’s knowledge of that fact, it was so much the better.
Darcy and Elizabeth sat across from each other in the library, embroiled in heated debate. They may as well have been on opposite sides of the world. How stubborn she could be when she chose.
“Please trust me on this, Elizabeth.”
“Georgiana has known him all her life and she does not disdain him—quite the contrary.”
“That is because she does not know his character as I do. She does not understand what he is capable of.”
“But everyone whom he has met since being here has nothing but the highest regard for him.”
“Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as to make friends wherever he goes. It is no wonder everyone is falling all over themselves to make love to him. However, he is unable to retain his easily earned esteem, and that is why I have no wish to have him connected to my family.”
“I know that he has been so unlucky as to lose your good opinion, and I also know your good opinion once lost is lost forever, but is there no possibility in your mind to allow that he is not the same gentleman you once knew? People can change.”
“People might change if that is their fervent wish, and they make a good effort. Wickham, however, is not the sort of person who would even wish to change. His greatest faults are those very attributes he regards as virtues.”
“Please, sir, let us not discuss this matter of Mr. Wickham any longer. I shall keep an eye on Georgiana if that is what you wish, but I surely will not spy on her, and I will not violate her confidence either. I know you are Georgiana’s guardian and you liken her to a daughter, but I posit that she is of an age where you would appreciate her far better if you start to consider her as a sister—as an adult sister, for that is certainly the basis of my relationship to her, that of sisters.”
“You being a wiser, far worldlier sister,” Darcy said.
“Is that your way of calling me old, Mr. Darcy?”
“Well, you are older than Georgiana, are you not?”
“By a few years—not decades, for heaven’s sake!”
“Yes—I know. You are closer in age to her than not, and it is natural that you and she share a sisterly bond, whereas the bond between Georgiana and me is rather blurred.” Darcy crossed the room, took Elizabeth in his arms, and rested his chin atop her head. He ran his hands along the length of her arms. Capturing her hand in his, he drew back a little; he looked into his wife’s eyes. “Do you suppose that my sister regards me as being too severe where she is concerned? The last thing I want is to alienate her.”
“On the contrary. She loves you very much, and it is evident that she thinks you are the best man in the world.”
“I must confess that she is very wise in that regard.”
“Of course,” said Elizabeth teasingly.
“I would never ask you to spy on her or share your confidences with me, for it means everything to me that the two of you are so close. It is what I always wanted for her—to have a sister.
“I would ask you to help her, as best you can, to make good decisions for herself, especially when it comes to discerning the motives of the many men whose acquaintances she will be making.”
Darcy wanted desperately to say that, just because certain behaviour was deemed acceptable for Elizabeth’s younger sisters, it did not follow that it would likewise be acceptable for his own sister. He did not dare, at least not now. Still, he strongly suspected a conversation on the younger Bennet daughters’ behaviour was one he ought to have, only not with Elizabeth.
Chapter 12
Darcy’s stance towards Elizabeth’s sisters in relation to his attitude towards Georgiana bothered him, keeping him up most of the night. It was only natural that he would feel more protective of the latter. He was, after all, more than her older brother; he was her guardian. He thought of himself as a father as much as a brother, whereas Elizabeth’s sisters, well—he hardly knew them at all.
Given his first opportunity to make their acquaintance all those months ago at the Meryton assembly, Darcy had gone out of his way to avoid it. He was revolted by the spectacle the younger girls had made, standing before his friend Bingley and jousting for position to see which would be favoured with Bingley’s attention. Darcy had once thought them the silliest creatures in the world—uncouth and uncivilised. Was his marriage to his beloved Elizabeth meant to change all that?
Knowing he had to do better, he decided that he would make an effort to be more of a brother to the younger Bennet sisters, Mary, Kitty and that wild Lydia. He owed it to his wife to try, at least, did he not? He vowed to head over to Longbourn first thing that morning and speak with Geoffrey Collins about the younger girls’ propensity to admire George Wickham. He would strongly advocate that Collins, in his self-appointed capacity as head of the Bennet family in his father-in-law’s stead, take control of the situation. He certainly did not look forward to that, for although he and the gentleman were civil, their mutual cordiality could be described as tenuous at best.
Upon his arrival at Longbourn, Darcy paced outside the library. Collins had the audacity to keep him waiting for a private audience. How dare he? Once they were seated face-to-face on opposite sides of Mr Bennet’s desk, Darcy wasted no time in addressing his purpose in being there.
“Collins, I have a matter of a rather delicate nature that I wish to discuss with you. It has to do with the youngest Bennet daughters,” he cleared his throat, “our sisters.”
“I think I know what you are about to say, Darcy. It has not escaped my notice that the younger girls suffer the mischief of neglect and mistaken indulgence, but I believe I have already taken measures to rein them in. I have two young daughters of my own, and I am not at all pleased by the example the younger Bennet girls set.”
“It seems that finally we have something we can agree upon.”
“I would not go as far as that, but I will hear what you have to say.”
“My immediate concern has to do with their wont of cavorting with the militia, specifically the officer named George Wickham.”
“George Wickham? I do not believe you could be more mistaken.” Collins leaned back in his chair. “If you mean to persuade me against him, you will meet with no success. The lieutenant is a decent, upstanding fellow who has been dealt an unfortunate injustice.” Reaching for his pipe, Geoffrey Collins cleared his throat. “The gentleman and I embarked upon a lengthy discourse on his travails. I am certain I do not need to say more, for as intimate as you are with the gentleman, you can have no doubt of the nature of his grievances.”
“I admit it does not come as a surprise to me that George Wickham would tell his version of our history to anyone who is gullible enough to believe what he has to say.”
“It is not very hard to believe him when I have been the direct recipient of your displeasure myself.”
“Pray, you are not clinging still to the notion that I am the reason you failed to secure Elizabeth’s hand in marriage.”
“Actually, all that is neither here nor there. All I am saying is that what Mr Wickham related is entirely in keeping with the man whom I know you to be. Hence, I will not listen to a word you have to say against the gentleman.”
“I am sorry to hear you say that, for you have appointed yourself as head of the Bennet family, and along with that distinction comes the responsibility of protecting the younger girls, does it not?”
“I will not argue your point, and, as I have said, I have given this matter some thought. I assure you I have the situation under control.”
“How so—if you do not mind my asking?”
“To be honest with you, Darcy, I do mind your asking. This is Longbourn, not Pemberley, and I will not be second guessed.”
“It is a shame to hear you speak this way. We need not be adversaries, especially when it comes to a matter such as this. The girls’ comportment is just as much of consequence to me as it is to you.”
“And there is the point. What concerns you most is that Longbourn House might bring shame upon the hallowed Darcy name. How it must vex you not to be in control of every detail of your otherwise perfectly arranged life.”
Of course it bothered him. Scandal of any kind was Darcy’s abhorrence. The prospect of some disgrace that might befall either of the youngest Bennet daughters, bringing shame upon his family and affecting Georgiana’s chances of marital felicity, was too much to hazard.
Darcy stood and prepared to take his leave. “I had hoped to find you reasonable. However, I see now that your own pride makes that impossible. You ought to know that I will be keeping watch over this matter. I will take whatever action I deem necessary to protect my family, regardless of anything you have to say.”
Darcy might have known he would have no success at all in dealing with Geoffrey Collins, but it could not be said that he did not try. Although his mood was much darker when Darcy descended the front stairs and made his way across the paddock, the burden on his conscience was lighter by far.
Chapter 13
Days later, George Wickham approached Georgiana in the garden at Longbourn. He presented her with her favourite flower and proceeded to beguile her with reminiscences of their most cherished moments at Pemberley.
Georgiana was exceedingly entertained, and she made no pretence of hiding it. “You always did know how to make me laugh, George. Although, I suppose I should learn to address you otherwise for appearances sake and to lessen the aspect of familiarity that exists between us.”
“But are we not especially familiar? Have I not known you all your life and I dare ask who knows me better than you?”
She smiled fondly at the person who had devoted so many hours to giving her pleasure over the course of her life. “If only my brother could summon the strong familial harmony you and he once shared.”
“I take some of the credit for Darcy’s hard feelings against me for, just before he and I parted company at Pemberley, I might have expressed my disappointment with him less violently than I did. I might have handled my temper much better, and I know that now. If I could do it again, I most certainly would do it differently, for I am a changed man, and soon Darcy will see that too.”
He extended his arm, which she graciously accepted, and he guided her away from view of the manor house. “Seeing you alone in the garden was fortuitous. I have longed for a chance to speak with you in privacy. There is much I had wished to say to you when we dined with the Philipses that evening.”
“And I you.”
“I have thought of you so many times since we parted, and never more than of late, now that you are a young woman of an age where you are likely giving thought to your place in society. You do remember your promise that you would wait for me?”
Her heart turned somersaults. Her hopes and dreams had not been in vain, for he remembered their promise as well.
“And despite the disheartening circumstances that brought you to Hertfordshire, it is most fortunate that we are all here. Soon, your brother will come to know how mistaken he is about my character, and he will bless our future union.”
“Oh, George, does that mean what I think? Are you? Are you?”
“I am indeed—if you will have me.”
“Oh, nothing would satisfy me more.”
“Then, it is official. Mind you, this must be our secret. We will know when the time is right to share our happy news with others.”
As was her custom, Elizabeth had spent hours in her father’s room, reading to him and the like. She was encouraged by what she felt certain were daily signs of improvement in his health. Having reached a fitting stopping point for the day, Elizabeth placed her book aside, stood, and walked to the window. She was not at all surprised to espy the dashing Lieutenant Wickham, for he and some of the officers regularly called at Longbourn. She was, however, surprised to see the gentleman and Georgiana sitting together on a bench. The couple’s comportment hinted of a fair degree of intimacy. “How long has this been going on?” Elizabeth voiced aloud.
She cast a furtive glance over her shoulder. His breathing steady, Mr. Bennet’s eyes were closed. Elizabeth proceeded to the door and quickly made her way outside. She was half way to the place where she had espied Georgiana and the lieutenant when she saw her sister headed towards the manor house—alone.
Elizabeth waited until they were but a short distance apart. “Georgiana, I saw you and Mr. Wickham in the garden earlier.”
“Indeed, Elizabeth. He called on the Bennets while you were visiting with your father, and he joined me as I was having a turn in the garden so we might talk.”
“Pardon, is this the first such instance where you and he have enjoyed a turn in the garden?”
“Come now, Elizabeth, I can well imagine my brother asking such a question. I am surprised to hear you voice it.”
“I would be remiss if I did not ask. Your brother has made it clear that he does not approve of Mr. Wickham, regardless of how amiable you or I might consider him to be. He would be terribly disappointed if he knew that you were spending time in the gentleman’s company.”
