“There is no need to fret, Georgiana. You could not help it. You needed to unburden yourself. But it must never happen again, do you hear me? I am saying this for your own good.”
Georgiana sniffled and wiped her tears. He handed her his handkerchief.
“It will not happen again, Brother, I promise. I don’t know what came over me.”
Miss Bennet must be a clever one indeed to insinuate herself so quickly into Georgiana’s affections and get her to reveal so much in a mere afternoon. What kind of a person must she be, to be able to do that with someone like Georgiana who was naturally shy and unwilling to confide in anyone?
“It’s alright, sweetling,” he said, slipping into her childhood endearment as a wave of tenderness swept through him. He was all Georgiana had. He felt fiercely protective of her.
She returned the handkerchief to him, giving him a tremulous smile.
“You must not blame Miss Bennet for my mistake, however,” she said. “Iwas the one who messed things up terribly. It is not her fault. You must find Miss Bennet and apologize.”
Apologize? For what? Miss Bennet had intruded on his household. She had wormed the secret out of Georgiana. And she had almost stolen a valuable item.
Or had she? Uncertainly set in. True, he had seen Miss Bennet clutching the item. Miss Bingley had called it out. But why should he take Miss Bingley’s word for it? What if Miss Bennet was entirely innocent, and everything had happened exactly as Georgiana had told him? What if he was being unfair?
He needed to see Miss Bennet again and determine what kind of a person she was. Georgiana was right. He was generally considered a good judge of character, but he had barely spoken to Miss Bennet. He needed to see more of her to determine who was right.
Meanwhile, he could not bear to see Georgiana so distraught.
“You have not messed things up, Georgiana. It is I who have done so. I jumped to conclusions when I had no right to do so. I will apologize to Miss Bennet and, for good measure, invite her to Pemberley for dinner tomorrow. Will that satisfy you?”
She gave him a heart wrenching smile. “Yes, Brother. It will make me very happy.”
Having been informed by the coachman that Miss Bennet and her relatives were staying at the Inn in Lambton, Darcy set out for the village immediately. Since Miss Bennet was so important to his sister, he was willing to suspend judgement, at least until he could assess the situation more clearly. His suspicions had not evaporated. There were too many unanswered questions on his mind, such as the coincidence that had brought Miss Bennet to Georgiana’s side at that particular moment. For Georgiana’s sake, however, he was willing to give Miss Bennet the benefit of the doubt, at least for now.
He was a gentleman, after all, and if he had wronged someone, it was his duty to make amends. From what his sister had told him, it seemed he may have been too quick to reach the wrong conclusions. If so, it was unforgivable, and he owed Miss Bennet an apology.
As he arrived at the inn, he paused in the doorway to look around. He spotted Miss Bennet sitting in a private area of the taproom, engaged in earnest conversation with two older people. Presumably these were her aunt and uncle. He was favorably impressed by their general air of fashion and refinement.
Just as he prepared to take off his hat to step inside, his gaze landed on a face he hoped never to see again. Standing leaning against the wall, with a tankard of ale in his hand, was Georgiana’s nightmare: George Wickham.
Wickham’s face had that contemplative expression, an expression that never boded well. It meant he was plotting something. Darcy had never liked the expression. It inevitably meant trouble.
Whatever he had to say to Miss Bennet could wait. He had to make it clear to Wickham that he was not welcome in Lambton or anywhere in the vicinity.
“You!” said Mr. Darcy, striding up to him. “What are you doing here?”
“I am perfectly at liberty to visit my old haunts, am I not, Darcy? As it so happens, I am helping a young lady, a Miss Bennet,” said Wickham, with a smirk, looking in the direction where Miss Bennet was seated.
Darcy had been hoping there was no connection between Wickham and Miss Bennet, but there was no denying it now.
“You know Miss Bennet?”
Wickham gave him a shrewd glance. “We are – as you say – acquainted.”
So Darcy’s suspicions were right! He had come to find Miss Bennet, only to discover that, once again, Georgiana had been tricked by Wickham. Was there no end to this?
He could not let Wickham get away with this.
“I need you to step outside, Wickham.”
“What, do you plan to start a brawl? To play at fisticuffs?” said Wickham, in a mocking voice. “Your sister is safe from me. I did not come after her. My business lies elsewhere.”
His eyes turned towards Miss Bennet. Darcy could only imagine what kind ofbusinesshe might have with her. His ire was rising by the moment, and he held back with an effort.
Wickham was right about one thing at least. He could not start a brawl, not here in Lambton, where he was respected by the villagers.
