“I am ready to fight for you to the last drop of my blood.”
Georgiana ran toward Wickham and crossed in front of Darcy, who stopped her with a hand. Exhaling slowly, he said, “This is the end of our relationship if you choose him.”
She looked at him in complete disbelief. “What? Why? You will grow to love him in time, I know you will.”
He shook his head, his heart breaking over it. “I cannot admit to his society in town. He cannot come to Pemberley. That is how deeply I do not approve of his actions and choices. Not even for your peace of mind would I acknowledge him or help him.”
“That shows how little he loves you,” Wickham called out behind him.
“I love her dearly,” he bit back, still looking at Georgiana, “and even if you tell all the world you ran off with her and spent nights alone with her, I would take her home now if she would come.”
“You would damn your sister’s reputation?” Wickham said, walking near to stand next to her. “My dear, thank goodness I am here. It shows how little he truly cares.”
“No, it shows how deeply I care, and how deeply I oppose her marrying you.”
“Wickham loves me,” she pressed. “I know my father would be happy for us. I don’t care that he is poor.”
“My dear, this is not about rank or fortune. It is about character, and who is welcome in my life, who is welcome around my family. I lose all integrity if I welcome a man who engages prostitutes, who mercilessly seduces women and spreads disease, who has no profession, who gambles away all he has, who will compromise your health.
“Once he runs through your money—whatever he ends up with—he will have no need of you. All his professions of love will sink to indifference at best, but I fear he will mistreat you because he knows that would hurt me.”
She shook her head. “He is none of those things. You are just trying to control me.”
Did all young ladies feel that way and revolt against their parents, or had Wickham manipulated her to believe that? “No, I am trying to persuade you not to throw your life away on a deceitful, pox-ridden gamester.”
“You are lying about him!”
“Never. I would not lie to you, and your friend Miss Bennet did not come three hundred miles to lie to you.” What would his mother say tosee her daughter about to be wed to such a scoundrel? What would she say to know he could not protect her? “Come home,” he begged, his voice cracking.
“No,” she cried, her hands balled into fists. “You see me as a child. He sees me as a woman.”
He had no hope left.
Darcy clasped his arms around her. “I forgive you for defying me,” he said into her ear. He held her by her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “But from this day forward, you are not welcome in my home. I cannot have a man that corrupt, so lacking in character, in my life. If I admityou, he will always be after me for money, for connexions, for help. He will use you, harm you, to gain things from me.” He looked over his shoulder at Wickham. “I will not help you in any way,” he insisted.
Wickham gave him a look of pure loathing, and he was certain that if Georgiana was not present, Wickham would have struck him.
His sister had tears running down her cheek, which only emphasised how young she truly was. “But we will need help if you keep my fortune from us. George only has the thousand pounds my father left him. We cannot live on forty pounds.”
Darcy touched her cheek. “If you ever realise what you have done and leave him, you may come home, reputation be damned. But so long as you look up to and respect that man as your husband, so long as you want to live alongside him and tie your fate to his, I will have nothing to do with you.”
She hesitated, searching his face, but then she destroyed the lingering hope in his heart and reached a hand toward Wickham. Wickham clasped it, but before he led her away, she said to Elizabeth, “Lizzy, please stay and watch me be married.”
Elizabeth winced and pressed her lips together, shaking her head. “I cannot condone such imprudence. Go home with your brother, or you will regret it forever.”
“Come along, my dear,” Wickham said. “Our future happiness will show them how much they will regret their actions this day.” He led her into the inn, but not before throwing him another hateful glare before he crossed the threshold.
Darcy turned from the doorway with a long exhale and steadied himself. Grief and anger oppressed his heart, but he knew what had to happen now. He had to act with a coolness of mind and calmness of countenance that had been lacking when he learnt the dreadful news in London. A situation was once again rising out of his control, beyond what he had planned, but he could not fall to pieces as he had before.
Elizabeth stared after Georgiana, but he wondered if she even saw anything. She had a similar dazed expression when she begged him for help in Ramsgate. He wished it had been Lydia who had run away rather than Georgiana. And then he hated himself for his selfish thoughts. No one deserved to be tied to a man like Wickham.
The thought of what was happening in that inn and what would follow in a private chamber made him sick.
“We must leave, Miss Bennet,” he said, turning on his heel and gesturing to the postilions in the yard that he intended to hire them.
Elizabeth followed, tears on her cheeks and a stunned look on her face. “I cannot believe we could not convince her. There are so many reasons to run screaming from that man.”
He had their bags put on the post-chaise, and they were soon off. It was not until they were out of the yard that she blinked and asked, “Where are we going? Back to Carlisle?”
