Elizabeth drew a breath, clearly struggling to compose herself. “No, please continue. I merely—the name caught me off guard. But I should like to hear more about your childhood.”
Darcy studied her face, noting the tension around her eyes and the tight set of her mouth. Whatever had caused her reaction to Wickham’s name, it was significant. But shehad indicated her willingness to proceed, and he sensed that pressing for explanations would only create more distance between them.
“Mr Wickham the elder was good to us,” he said. “Georgiana spent most of her time at Pemberley living with the Havisham’s early on. She had a chamber there and lived with them for about two years. I saw her every day, and she spent part of each day with us but eventually, Lady Anne was with child and so Georgiana came to live with us again. Her sister, Lady Catherine, was quite opposed to her having taken in a ward in the first place.”
“Ah, Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head. “I can imagine she was not pleased to see her sister take on someone else’s child.”
“No,” Darcy confirmed, anger rising in him again. “She was confused. She loved Lady Anne like a mother. Which, if course, was also not ideal. She was an orphan child and would never have been seen as a lady. In the end, she moved back into the steward’s cottage with myself and the Wickhams.”
“It must have been confusing for her,” Elizabeth said, sounding genuine.
“It was. Lady Anne continued to see her and dote on her while she was with child, but when the child was lost before drawing breath, she withdrew further. She was never unkind, but melancholy plagued her for the last few years of her life. She always doted on Georgiana and I. And George as well, but it was best that Georgiana lived with us.”
“For you I imagine it was preferable to have her with you. I cannot imagine not having my sisters live with me,” she said, her eyes resting on his face in a way that made him grow warm.
“It was. I adore her. I always have. Mr Wickham did also, as did George. George and I were never close, but I will say he was always good to my sister.” He swallowed, cursing himself for bringing up Wickham again. Quickly, he added, “His father, our guardian, is a lovely man. He has always doted on us just as much as Lady Anne did. I owe him everything. Georgiana does as well. He was a man alone with three children and raised us wonderfully. Well, two of us, anyway.” He smiled and to his relief, Elizabeth smiled back.
“It sounds idyllic,” Elizabeth said.
“In many ways, it was. Despite our circumstances, Georgiana and I were happy children. The estate provided everything we needed—fresh air, good food, purposeful work, and the security of belonging somewhere.” He paused, remembering those golden afternoons by the water. “I became quite accomplished at fishing, actually. There’s a particular art to reading the currents and choosing the right bait for the conditions.”
Elizabeth’s expression shifted, curiosity overcoming her earlier discomfort. “I’ve always wondered what that would be like. Fishing, I mean. But my mother considered it thoroughly inappropriate for young ladies. ‘Messy, smelly work better left to men and servants,’ she would say whenever the subject arose.”
For the first time since their disastrous wedding breakfast, something approaching a genuine smile touched Darcy’s lips. “Your mother was perhaps thinking of marketable fishing. Angling for trout is quite different—peaceful, contemplative work that requires patience and observation rather than brute strength.”
“You make it sound almost reflective.”
“It can be. There is something restorative about standing knee-deep in a clear stream, watching for the subtle signs that indicate where fish might be feeding. The world grows very quiet, very focused. All the complications of daily life seem to fade away.”
Elizabeth leaned forward slightly, her earlier tension forgotten. “That does sound appealing, particularly after…” she gestured vaguely, encompassing their current circumstances.
“I could teach you, if you’d like,” Darcy offered, then immediately wondered if he had overstepped. “That is, should you ever wish to learn. Streams here are well-stocked, and the technique is not difficult to master.”
She considered this, her head tilted thoughtfully. “I believe I should like that very much. Though I cannot promise to be an apt pupil.”
“I suspect you would take to it quite naturally. It requires the same sort of careful observation and patience that I imagine serves you well in other pursuits.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed and he looked away, not wishing to mortify her by making it obvious he had noticed.
“I shall think about it,” she said quietly, the promise hanging between them like a bridge neither was quite ready to cross.
Chapter Nineteen
Darcy
15th November 1811
“You are now a landed gentleman, Bingley.” Darcy raised his voice above the clatter of wheels and harness as their horses picked their way down the lane from Ashcroft House. Behind them, a procession of wagons carried Bingley’s belongings much of which had been purchased in London over the past few days, while ahead lay the promise of a new life built on solid ground rather than mere commerce.
Bingley’s grin threatened to split his face entirely. “Can you believe it? Three months ago I was Charles Bingley of nowhere in particular, and now I am Charles Bingley of Ashcroft House, Hertfordshire.” He straightened in his saddle with mock pomposity. “I shall have to practice looking down my nose at trade.”
“I should not recommend it,” Darcy replied with dry humour. “I can assure you that inherited arrogance is far less attractive than earned confidence.”
“Wise counsel from my social superior.” Bingley’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
Darcy let out a laugh. “Your social superior by all but a few weeks.”
“Ah well, my superior still as you are married to a lady and I am not. As yet. Tell me honestly—how long should I waitbefore approaching Lord Hartford for Lady Jane’s hand? I know the family is still recovering from recent developments.”
