Mrs Younge was smiling at her gently. “My dear, your brother is very old-fashioned. Please do not take that the wrong way, but he still believes that a young woman is incapable of knowing her own mind. He will try to dissuade you from marrying a mere lieutenant, no matter how amiable and charming he is.”
“Do you think I am doing the right thing? It will be an awful blow for Fitz not to be at my wedding. And I had always hoped to have a church wedding, so he could walk me down the aisle. It will crush him,” Georgiana said, her lip quivering. “He is all the family I have left in the world.”
“If you delay, there will be no wedding. Is that what you want?” Mrs Younge pressed. She reached over and took Georgiana’s hand. “Look to your own happiness, Georgiana. Your brother has made his decisions, but how can he know what is best for you?”
Georgiana took her hand away from Mrs Younge and sat back in her chair. She hung her head, thinking to herself. “My brother has always been good to me. He has never led me astray.”
“Until now. He is not perfect, you know.” Mrs Younge sighed. “Do you love Mr Wickham?” she asked.
“Of course I do,” Georgiana replied, as though the question were an affront to her loyalty.
“Then all will be well. I promise you, Mr Wickham is the sort of man who will not stop until he gets what he wants. And you are what he wants, my dear. Do you not see that you cannot back out now? Mr Wickham has spent a great deal of time and money to see to your every need for the journey. And he will be heartbroken if you jilt him at the altar. I have never seen a man more devoted than he is to you.” Mrs Younge smiled and patted Georgiana’s cheek. “Trust me.”
Georgiana said little else throughout their morning repast. She drank her tea in small sips, realising with a start that it had gone quite cold. Outside, a dreary rain fell, beating against the windowpanes. Georgiana wished there were someone closer to her own age that she could talk to. What would Elizabeth say about all this?
She quickly shook her head, trying to dislodge the traitorous thought. Elizabeth Bennet was not on her side. She was trying to destroy her happiness, not help her. Mr Wickham was the man she loved, the only man she would ever love. He was kind and attentive, and he was a superior soldier, on the rise through the ranks of his regiment. Surely it would not be long before he would be promoted, and they could live as respectably as Colonel Forster and his wife.
“Hurry, my dear. We have a lot to do today before we depart on the morrow. I have instructed the housekeeper to say you are ill, in case anyone comes to call on you this afternoon. It would be better if we cloistered ourselves indoors today so no one can become suspicious of our plans.” Mrs Younge stood up from the table and exited the room. Georgiana only nodded and sat there in silence for a while longer. Her heart was heavy, and she did not understand why.
She and Mr Wickham would not be gone long. There was the journey to Gretna Green, a matter of several days, and then the marriage itself. Georgiana did not know how quickly that might be arranged. Perhaps it would even be on the day of their arrival. Then they would return to London, where they would announce their marriage to her brother. Fitz would be angry for a while, but he would not be so forever. They were brother and sister, after all, and loved each other with all their hearts. Fitz would turn her dowry over to her new husband, and they would be on their way. Perhaps she could even stay at Pemberley while Mr Wickham was away during his campaigns. All would be just as it was now, only she would be a married woman, safe and secure in her future, and with no need for a terrifying London debut. It was what her brother wanted, was it not? It was the whole reason she had come to Meryton, to practise her social graces so that she might find a husband in the coming season. Now she would be spared the ordeal of a London season, and the terrifying prospect of so many eyes on her, watching and judging her.
Georgiana pushed her plate aside and decided that it would be better for her to keep busy, thus distracting her mind from the worries that had assailed her at finding out Elizabeth knew of their plans. How that she had found out about them in the first place was impossible to fathom. She had not breathed aword to anyone, and surely Mr Wickham would not have spoken of their elopement to another woman.
She went to her room and changed into a simple day dress. The maid helped her to pack. “Oh, no, not that dress,” Mrs Younge said from the doorway. “What are you thinking? It is impossible to find good help.” She snatched the silvery silken fabric out of the maid’s hand and threw it onto the bed.
“There will be no occasion for such finery, my dear.” Mrs Younge’s tone turned to honey as she spoke to Georgiana. She hated how Mrs Younge spoke to the maids as though they were stupid. Georgiana gave the girl an apologetic look, then went on looking through the wardrobe.
“What would be appropriate, then?” she asked, a little annoyed at the woman’s meddling. “How is this for —?” Georgiana broke off abruptly and bit her lower lip. She could not say ‘my wedding’. They were trying to keep the matter from the servants for as long as possible. But it was difficult. “For what we need?” she amended.
Mrs Younge cocked her head to the side. “Yes. Blue will be quite becoming.” She glanced at the maid and motioned toward the door, dismissing the girl with a curt nod. When they were alone, she took Georgiana’s hands and had her sit on the chest at the foot of the bed. “You are not nervous, are you?”
“A little,” Georgiana admitted. She had always hoped there would be someone to explain the intricacies of married life to her, but her mother was long gone. And she would have been mortified to ask her brother about such things. Besides, he was not married yet. What did he know? The only other married woman she knew well was her aunt, and she would have rather died than ask Aunt Catherine about such things. “I wish my mother were here.”
Mrs Younge brushed her cheek tenderly and gave an encouraging smile. “There is no need to be frightened. Mr Wickham will be gentle that first night.”
Georgiana frowned. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Well, I…That is, you —” Mrs Younge had never seemed the type to get embarrassed, but now she tripped over her words as she tried to explain. “It is really not my place, my dear. Suffice to say, your husband will teach you everything you need to know.”
Mrs Younge stood and went to the door. “I will see that the maids have packed all my things and then be back to check on you. Shall I call for some tea or anything? You look a bit peckish.”
“Yes, some tea would cheer me, I think,” Georgiana said softly. Mrs Younge left, and when the door was closed, Georgiana made her way over to the window seat and sat down. It was still raining. She wished the weather were not so dreary. Perhaps it would have combated the despair she felt creeping in on her. It was hardly ten in the morning, but it felt much later owing to the heavy, dark rain clouds that hung low in the sky.
A few minutes later, a tea tray was delivered, comprising a small pot of hot water, a teacup with leaves already in the strainer, and a small plate of biscuits. She munched slowly on a biscuit, but her stomach turned as soon as she had taken a few bites. She made the mint tea and sipped it slowly, trying to still the wild beating of her heart. When nothing worked, she gave her maid instructions with the rest of her wardrobe, then went down to the parlour to lose herself at her pianoforte.
Georgiana was still at the piano when the bell at the front door rang. Georgiana nearly jumped out of her skin, accidentallypounding on the black and white keys in her terror that someone would come to call and find out what she was about to do. She stood up and hurried over to the closed parlour door, putting her ear to it so she might hear who had come.
The housekeeper opened the door, and it sounded as if someone strode in, brushing her aside. Her heartbeat quickened, wondering if her brother had come. But no, once the gentleman spoke, she recognised him at once as Mr Wickham. Georgiana opened the parlour door and went out to him. Mr Wickham took her hand and kissed it, glancing sideways at the housekeeper. “How are you today, my dear?” he asked. “I have come to call, even though I know it is a little early.”
“Nonsense. Do come in. And Mrs Bailey, please alert Mrs Younge that we have a guest. If anyone else comes to call, please inform them I am not at home.”
Mrs Bailey gave Mr Wickham a suspicious glance but said nothing save for, “Yes, Miss,” and walked away to do her bidding.
Georgiana took his hand and led him into the parlour, closing the door behind her. “Has something happened?” she asked.
“No, not at all. I merely wanted to come and see how you were holding up. I know it was not what we planned, but I think we can slip away before anyone is any the wiser.” He smiled and took her into his arms. “I cannot wait to arrive in Gretna Green. Can you?” he asked in a low, husky tone that sent butterflies swirling through her stomach.
Georgiana was not sure how she was supposed to feel about any of this. She gently extricated herself from his embrace and walked toward the hearth. “Yes. I mean, no,” she replied.She shook her head. “In all honesty, I am a little frazzled, Mr Wickham. This is all happening so fast and —”
