“She was resigned to her death because she was weary of constant pain and suffering, and there was nothing earthly that could relieve it.”
Mr Darcy blinked his eyes and cleared this throat. “I cannot so easily reconcile myself. The recollection of my hateful thoughts isinexpressively painful to me. I desired an inconvenience to be removed without a consideration for how that would wound my sister.”
“Until her child was born, it was only an idea to you. My sister Jane has had four children, and each time her husband did not have a modicum of attention other than for his wife’s health in a general sense. It is never until he can hold the infant that he takes an interest.”Although he takes a greater interest once they are capable of reason.“As soon as Georgiana’s child was born, you loved it, just like Robert loves his children once he can see them.”
“Your sister’s married name is Cuthbert.” She nodded, and he stopped walking. “Her husband is named Robert Cuthbert?” She smiled at his expression. He chuckled and shook his head; it was good to see some amusement there.
This is why I am here now, to comfort and befriend Mr Darcy now that his sister is gone.“Itisan unfortunate name.”
They walked on a little ways in silence, and Elizabeth was wondering how best to console him, when Mr Darcy spoke again.
“I ... I had to give my nephew a name, at least privately.” The words trickled from his lips. “There was no time for a minister, he lived less than a minute. They say—they say the ministration of a private baptism is as valid as a public one, in a time of great cause and necessity anyone can—I said all that I could before ...”
He thought to baptise his own nephew as he died in his hands.She hesitated laying a comforting hand on his arm, suspecting he would not want it. However, the haunted look in his eyes overrode her reserve, and she linked one arm around his and pressed it with her other hand. He flinched but did not pull away.
“I called him George, for my father, for my sister.” He was silent for a long moment after they resumed walking. “Mrs Darcy, it has been a study of my life to avoid those weaknesses that can expose one to ridicule or rebuke, but I could not be in close quarters with someone who loved Georgiana and not have you know what manner of a man her brother is.”
Elizabeth refused to cry, for his sake as much as her own. Tears might bring on another attack of pain around her heart, and even if itdid not, Mr Darcy did not need to think of anyone’s comfort but his own in this moment. “You are not a hateful man.”
“I fear that I am, and my being ashamed of myself will not earn me any mercy.”
“I do not judge you for your thoughts or feelings.” He gave her a pained look. “Truly, I do not. I do not think Georgiana would either, not when you acted so generously to her son in his brief moment of life. You are a good man who loved his sister and did what you could for her health and happiness. No one’s death was your fault, and one detestable notion—ultimately repented—does not undo all that is good in your character.”
He stopped walking again and exhaled a shuddering breath, choking back either words or emotion. It was plain he had slept badly, if at all, during the past week. “You are not a hateful man,” she repeated. Elizabeth tugged on his arm, and he looked at her in surprise, as if he had forgotten she was holding it. “Come inside with me.”
He was not a man in the habit of ready submission, but he allowed himself to be led. When they came into the parlour, she went to the sofa and insisted he sit next to her. For a moment Mr Darcy looked as though he would refuse, but he fell into the seat with a weary sigh. Elizabeth turned away to get a book, and to hide the pitying expression she knew she was wearing.
“I had been reading this to Georgiana, and I remember your being in the room for some of it. You must wish to know the end to Arabella’s adventures.”
He looked as though there was nothing on this earth he wanted less. “She is a delusional character, with no notion of reality. I do not know why Georgiana enjoyed this book.”
“I should like to know how it ends. Would you let me read it to you? Please? I would like to finish the book that brought our sister so much amusement.” He would not listen for his own sake, but for Georgiana’s—and perhaps hers—he would. Not that Elizabeth expected him to listen attentively. In fact, she hoped he would not.He was exhausted and grieving, and she knew the book held absolutely no interest for him.
Mr Darcy nodded, and within half an hour he had made a pillow of her shoulder, and she read him to sleep.
Mrs Darcy was sittingin Georgiana’s room looking at a pile of gowns when Darcy found her a few days after his confession. She shifted slightly when she heard him at the doorway, but did not turn to face him. He stared at the pile with her for a while before speaking.
“She said that you could have them. The maids would not expect much of her cast-off clothing.”
“Fabric is expensive, but I do not know if I can bring myself to cut her clothes to pieces and take them for my own.”
“They will be worth less if you sell them, and they will be converted, refurbished, or torn to pieces in any event.”
“But at least that way I shall not see them and think she ought to be wearing them rather than me.” She turned to look at him, and he saw she had been crying. She gave a half-smile. “Besides, they would have to be dyed black for my use. I feel for you. Between Georgiana and me, you will not get to wear gilt buttons until the year fourteen.”
He watched her for a long moment. “I will have someone take them away tomorrow.”
She nodded her thanks, and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Darcy came forward to hand her his handkerchief. He was still carrying extras from when his sister would go through several in a day. In the assemblage of gowns, he caught sight of her blue riding habit and pulled it from the pile. “Georgiana loved to ride, ever since I first put her on a pony when she was eleven. She had outgrown all of her riding dress, so I bought her this merino cloth last year to make a summer habit.”
“You taught her to ride?”
“My father would have, but he was too ill—dying, in fact. The task fell to me, but as soon as she was set atop that old pony, Georgiana did not so much as tremble. She sat well, when she was healthy enough for the exercise, that is.” To his surprise, it was more of a relief to speak ofhis sister rather than something that gave him pain. “Do you ride, Mrs Darcy?”
“We had one mare at Longbourn, and she was often wanted for work on the farm. There were five daughters of near the same age needing to learn, and between its work and us needing to take turns, I never learnt how to go faster than a foot’s pace. I grew tired of waiting for lessons and decided that my own two feet would get me farther much faster.”
She took the blue riding habit from him and laid it across her lap, admiring the fabric as she spoke, her fingers touching the frogs ornamenting the front.
“Should you like to resume riding? I can have you properly seated if you like.” He did not have a horse here that could carry a woman, but he could have a mare at the lodge within a week.
