“Lady Eleanor thought it best,” Georgiana admitted, her gaze dropping to the table. “Dr. Harrison insisted that forced recollections might impede your recovery, that your memories must return naturally or not at all.”
“And I still believed it best,” his aunt remarked. “You would have violently rejected her standing and caused her more pain. You saw how my sister dispatched the fortune hunters invading your sickroom in London.”
“I see.” Darcy absorbed this information. “You two sought to lead me gently to my demise, not once trusting in my regard for Elizabeth, Miss Bennet, almost like requiring me to solve a mystery while missing half my mind.”
“I nearly told you a hundred times,” Georgiana confessed, hervoice breaking slightly. “Especially when I saw how you looked at William, how naturally he went to you. It seemed so cruel to keep the truth from you both.”
Darcy reached across the table to take his sister’s hand. “Is there anything else I should know, Georgiana? Any other truths being kept from me ‘for my own good’?”
A flicker of hesitation crossed her features. “I believe… that is, I think Elizabeth would be better able to answer that question.” She squeezed his hand before releasing it. “You should ask her directly, if you return.”
“When, not if,” Darcy noted with a faint smile. “Your confidence in my safe return is heartening.”
“Be careful, Fitzwilliam. I shall miss you terribly, and worry about you constantly.” Georgiana approached his side of the table and, in an uncharacteristic display of affection, bent to press a kiss to his cheek.
“I promise to take all necessary precautions,” he assured her, touched by her concern. “And to write frequently with news of my progress.”
“See that you do.” Georgiana stepped back, visibly composing herself. “William will want to know that his father thinks of him, even from a distance.”
Lady Eleanor, who had been observing this exchange with evident approval, rose gracefully. “I shall inform Elizabeth of your early departure, although I make no promises of what she would do with it.”
After she had departed, Darcy found himself under the uncomfortably direct scrutiny of his sister. “You are displeased with my decision,” he observed.
“I am concerned by it,” Georgiana corrected. “Elizabeth has waited nearly two years for your return, Fitzwilliam. To have you leave again so soon after discovering the truth seems… unnecessarily cruel.”
“It is not my intention to cause further pain,” Darcy said, thewords sounding hollow even to his own ears. “But William’s future?—”
“William needs his father,” Georgiana interrupted with uncharacteristic firmness. A shadow crossed Georgiana’s face, a reminder of painful memories Darcy wished he could erase entirely. “Be careful in London. That person… the one we do not name… I fear what he might do if confronted.”
“I urge you not to think of him at all,” he said more gently. “His past actions toward our family will not be repeated.”
A knock at the door announced Graham’s return. “The carriage is ready, sir, whenever you wish to depart.”
“Thank you.” Darcy rose, adjusting his cravat with fingers that were not quite steady. “Has Lady Eleanor returned?”
“Not yet, sir.” Graham’s expression betrayed nothing, though Darcy fancied he detected a hint of sympathy in the steward’s eyes. “Vernon is waiting by the main entrance to see you off.”
A sinking feeling settled in Darcy’s stomach. Elizabeth had declined to bring William to bid him farewell. Perhaps she feared upsetting the child, or perhaps—more likely—she wished to emphasize the distance she had placed between them. Either way, he would depart without seeing his son.
“I shall be out directly,” he said, striving for a tone of neutral composure.
Georgiana embraced him fiercely, her usual reserve giving way to genuine emotion. “Promise you will write,” she insisted. “Every day, if possible. William should not be left wondering about his father’s whereabouts again.”
“I promise,” Darcy agreed, returning her embrace with equal fervor. “Take care of them in my absence, Georgiana. William will need his aunt’s attention while I am away.”
“And Elizabeth will need a friend,” Georgiana added pointedly. “One who understands the complexities of the situation.”
With a final squeeze of his hands, Georgiana releasedhim and stepped back, her eyes suspiciously bright. “Safe journey, Brother. Return to us soon.”
The walk to the main entrance felt longer than it should have, each step carrying Darcy further from the nursery wing. The missed opportunity to bid his son farewell weighed heavily upon him.
Only Vernon, the elderly butler, waited by the door to see him off.
“Is Mrs. … that is… is Miss Bennet about?” Darcy inquired, the confusion in titles betraying his inner turmoil.
“I believe she is in the nursery, sir,” Vernon replied with perfect composure. “Shall I send for her?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I shall go to her…”
