His Uncle's Favorite (56 page)

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Authors: Lory Lilian

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Darcy gently kissed Georgiana’s forehead and smiled at his sister as he closed the door behind him. He hesitantly knocked at Elizabeth’s door; he heard no reply, so he entered carefully. In the chair, staring at the window, lost in her thoughts, Elizabeth seemed oblivious to everything around her. He called her name, and when no answer came, he sat near her. Her eyes, red and swollen, finally dared to meet his.

“Forgive me,” she said. “Forgive me for coming to you with our troubles and disturbing you. I am so sorry for hurting Georgiana; she seems so pained and… I still cannot understand how this happened. It is my fault; I could have prevented it had I but explained to my family some part of what I knew… Wretched, wretched, mistake…”

He took her hands in one of his while the other gently caressed her face.

“I would have been upset if you had not come to me directly. Never again apologise for coming to me with your troubles, my love. As for this stressful situation, I am the only one who should apologise. It is entirely my fault; I never allowed my business with Wickham to be known, not even by my family. That is why he succeeded in deceiving Georgiana and my uncle and now Miss Lydia. But that will all change today; we will find them, and I will be certain proper measures are finally taken.”

“Perhaps we are both culpable in some way, but I am afraid little can be done. You know him too well; he will never marry Lydia. He has no interest in her, and he will not take such a burden on his shoulders. She is lost forever and…what shall we do now?” she whispered, looking at him hesitantly, her hands trembling in his.

He seemed scarcely to hear her; then he suddenly started walking up and down the room in earnest meditation, his brow contracted and his air gloomy. Elizabeth gradually observed that her power must be sinking while her eyes followed his movements.

“What shall we do now?” she repeated, her voice weak.

“I have sent people to make inquiries, and I hope to receive news soon. I will leave now with Mr. Bennet and the colonel. Please try to speak to Georgiana; she is upset and worried for you. I just told her that you know about Ramsgate. She is afraid that you might think ill of her… Please go to her and take care of each other…”

“I will take care of her…but William, what shall we do? About our wedding…”

“I am not certain; let us see what comes of this situation, and we will decide later about the wedding. I am afraid I cannot think clearly now; I am only thinking of the best way to solve this. We will speak more tomorrow.”

“As you wish,” she answered weakly. He embraced her tightly and left in haste.

Elizabeth remained unmoving in the middle of the room, her eyes fixed upon the door closed behind him. The question she feared most—the one that had tortured her since the news of the elopement—remained unanswered. Mr. Darcy seemed not to have an answer himself; he was obviously uncertain of his own decision. She did not doubt his feelings for her or his desire to share his life with her. But would his duty allow him to go further with that decision now that her family situation had changed so dramatically? Yes, perhaps he was right; perhaps it was somehow his fault that Wickham had not been exposed earlier. But in the end, it was Lydia’s lack of maturity and decorum that threw her into Wickham’s arms at his slightest notice, and the shame and disgrace had fallen entirely on her family. It was true that he had a duty to her, too, now that the announcement of their betrothal was made public. Would the duty to his family and his name overwhelm his duty to her? And if so, would she allow him to marry her only to keep his word? To force him to become Wickham’s brother? Every fibre of his body must be appalled at that horrible thought. Could she put him and Georgiana into such a painful situation?

She did not fail to notice that he called her ‘
my love
’ but made no gesture of real tenderness. He did not kiss her nor even touch her as he used to. She covered her face with her handkerchief to hide her tears; her mind, her soul, and her body vividly remembered the happiness that had overwhelmed her those last weeks and now seemed lost forever.

A few minutes later, she wiped her eyes and glanced at her image in the mirror. She promised him she would take care of Georgiana, and she could not disappoint him.

The moment Elizabeth saw Georgiana, her own distress vanished; the girl’s pallor and her blue eyes—tearful, lost, surrounded by dark circles—created a disturbing image. Elizabeth gently embraced her young friend then took her hands as they sat together.

“Georgiana, I think we should talk. There are not enough words to tell you how sorry I am for all the pain you must endure because of us. If there were any way to take your distress upon myself, I would not hesitate to do it…”

“Oh no, please do not say that! It is not your fault! I am only upset for my own folly, my own silliness… It is true that I am pained but only because I imagine what your sister must be going through, how ashamed and how troubled she must be… I know that very well,” she whispered.

“I feel sorry for her, too. I feel it is my fault that I took no better care of her; she is young and not very wise…”

“Do you think he might have tender feelings for her? Perhaps he is in love with her.”

“I doubt that. I saw them together many times, and I never observed any inclination on his part. I am afraid his motives are not as genuine as you wish to believe.”

“Yes, I always tend to misjudge his motives…”

“Please do not say that. I know what you are thinking, and you are unfair to yourself.”

“No, I am not… I was almost in the same situation as your sister. It was only a fortunate happenstance that William arrived the day before we planned to elope. If not, I would have disgraced my family—my brother—forever. I still cannot believe that William forgave me. I certainly did not deserve it. I am not being unfair to myself at all; I have only begun to know myself. I am nothing but a silly girl who made a fool of herself—very much like poor Miss Lydia. Mr. Wickham never would attempt such a scheme with a woman with sense and good judgement, someone like you or Miss Bennet.”

“Georgiana, please look at me,” Elizabeth said gently as the girl still refused to meet her eyes. “As I said, you are being unfair to yourself. You might have been correct when you said Jane would never allow herself to be deceived, but you were wrong about me. I did allow myself to be deceived by Mr. Wickham’s charming manners; I allowed myself to be flattered by his appearance of goodness, and I trusted him implicitly. I permitted and welcomed his stories about his past dealings with your brother without even considering how improper such confessions were. I believed the malicious words he did not hesitate to throw upon your brother, without questioning his motives or his character. I am quite certain I never would have agreed to elope with him, but other than that, I showed only a bit more maturity than Lydia, and there were likely many other women who fell for Mr. Wickham’s charms. So you should be proud of yourself for having the strength and maturity to report the intended elopement to your brother. That speaks highly of your worthiness and your character.”

While Elizabeth spoke, Georgiana’s eyes expressed all the tumult of feelings inside her: shame, embarrassment, doubt, disbelief, relief, concern, and, finally, understanding. When Elizabeth finished her confession, burdened with guilt and distress, it was Georgiana’s turn to comfort her friend. They continued to speak to each other, sharing blame, guilt and hopes, and none of them noticed when midnight came and went or when dawn shyly appeared at the window.

***

Inside Darcy’s carriage, three men found nothing to say to each other, so preoccupied were they in blaming themselves for the unfortunate elopement.

Darcy’s thoughts were torn between anger and pain. Elizabeth’s despair, his sister’s distress, and his departure in haste without being able to comfort them only increased his fury against Wickham and against himself.

They had briefly visited Mrs. Gardiner—who was shocked and frightened to see them at her door—and informed her about the events. She insisted she should go with them as she hoped she would be able to speak reasonably with Lydia if they found her, but the gentlemen refused her decidedly. However, Mr. Bennet promised he would return to her with all the details.

They easily reached Mrs. Younge’s place, but speaking to the woman herself proved to be more difficult. First, she denied knowing anything about her old acquaintance and even less that he was there. They first tried a polite approach, and Darcy even offered a substantial compensation for her effort. But the lack of success made the colonel declare he would enter by force and knock on every door until he discovered Wickham, and his increasing anger left no doubt about the veracity of his intentions. Eventually, Mrs. Younge showed them to Wickham’s room, but his situation was not what they expected.

It was a small chamber with only a bed, a table, and two chairs. A bottle of brandy, half-empty, betrayed Wickham’s occupation; he greeted them incoherently, a large smile on his face. “Mr. Bennet, gentlemen, what an unexpected pleasure.”

“Where is Lydia?” Mr. Bennet inquired severely.

“Oh, she is not here. I could not possibly bring her to such a place; it is surely not proper for a young lady like her. I assure you she is very well, resting in a friend’s house.”

“Very well, put your clothes on, and let us go and fetch Miss Lydia immediately,” the colonel demanded.

“I am afraid I cannot do that, sir. I would surely not disturb my friend in the middle of the night. Besides, I dare say it would be better if Miss Lydia is not involved in our discussion; it is not a proper conversation for a lady.”

“Then we are done here,” said Darcy. “There is nothing to discuss until we see Miss Lydia and speak to her. Send me a note when you think we can disturb your friend.” He rose to leave, and the colonel followed him.

“I believe it would be useful to talk now, though,” Wickham replied. “There are things that must be settled tonight for the benefit of all.”

“There is only one who might benefit from this disgraceful situation, Wickham,” said Mr. Bennet bitterly. “All I wish is to see my daughter.”

“Mr. Bennet, I assure you Miss Lydia is unharmed. I understand you are upset, sir. I know I would be upset in a similar situation. I deeply apologise for all the distress I caused you; my only excuse might be that one cannot command the desires of one’s heart. Falling in love might be dangerous sometimes, and nothing can be done now except to make the best of it. I am well aware there is only one honourable thing to do, and I would gladly do it were my own present state not so desperate. I am afraid I am unable to support myself; I could not possibly afford to take proper care of a wife.”

“And now it begins; please do share with us your misfortunes,” the colonel said sharply.

“Mr. Wickham, I am afraid you have miscalculated,” said Mr. Bennet, “or you have given me too much credit. Whatever desperate situation you might have, I am in no position to be the remedy. Surely you must know I am a man of limited resources.”

“I am well aware of that, sir, and it pains me to be forced to burden you further. Yet, I see no alternative. I cannot return to Meryton even if I wished to. There were some delicate problems that forced me to leave the regiment. I…sadly, I have some debts of honour that I was unable to cover, and I cannot possibly return until I am able to solve them. So you see, the small income I had in the militia is now gone, too.”

“It is ironic that you have debts of honour, when you seem to have no honour at all,” Mr. Bennet responded bitterly. “It makes your present situation even more pitiable, but again there is nothing I can do.”

“I understand that; however, if there is a desire for a reasonably discreet solution, I am certain resources could be found in your…extended family.”

“What do you want, Wickham?” Darcy inquired coldly. “Spare me your appalling tirade; there are no fools here.”

“It is not what I want but what I imperatively need in order to assure a decent living for my future wife. I cannot enter into a marriage unless my debt problems are entirely solved. I cannot expose my wife to the shame of—”

“Enough, Wickham! Your voice sickens me. What else?”

“I wish nothing more than that Mr. Bennet gives Lydia what is her right. However, I will need another living…perhaps another commission somewhere… And of course, a special license will be needed, but unfortunately I cannot afford to apply for one, so…”

Darcy stepped closer, his cold eyes fixed on Wickham’s face.

“I need a detailed list of your creditors by tomorrow morning. I will return around noon, and by then I want to meet Miss Lydia, too. I shall speak to her alone before taking any further steps. I hope it does not cross your mind to refuse this; you must know that I will send my men to search for her immediately, and you will be followed closely. You cannot hide from me. Do not trifle with me, Wickham. If I once showed weakness in dealing with you, it is over. Do not try my patience.”

“Darcy, I am not—”

“Wickham, I have wasted enough of my time with you. We shall see you again tomorrow at noon. There is only one more thing I wish to make clear: if Miss Lydia is harmed in any way, if she was in any way forced into this situation, there will be no escape for you; you must be aware of this.”

“She is unharmed,” Wickham said. “And, though it is ungentlemanlike of me to say it, she entered into the situation willingly. I might say the elopement was her idea.”

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