“I dare not speak of such things to a delicate young lady.”
“I agree not to distress her with whatever you think Mr Wickham has done. She is innocent, and perhaps he is not as bad as you say.” He opened his mouth to disagree, and she went on. “If you drag her away from him, you will make him seem more appealing. Your sister will also be distressed to be taken away when she is enjoying herself. You will make her feel she has done wrong if you make her leave.”
“I do not blame her,” he said quickly. “She is a child?—”
“I am not a child!”
Georgiana stood in the doorway, scowling at him and clutching her bonnet.
“You are absolutely a child,” he retorted.
“You removed me from school. I am not a child. I am fifteen!”
“What has that to do with anything?”
Mrs Younge gave him a disapproving frown while his sister’s scowl deepened.
Darcy stared at them both in confusion. Was she not a child anymore? Mrs Younge saw her as nearly grown up. The rest of the world saw her as fifteen, not out, but soon to be. She looked very much a young woman rather than a little girl. Mrs Younge was right; Georgiana had to learn how to navigate the world of adults and all the scheming manipulators who might prey on her.
“I do not like who you are mixing with in Ramsgate, my dear,” he began.
Georgiana gasped. “You do not know my friends!”
“I know Mr Wickham,” he said sharply.
This caught her attention. “What is so bad about him?”
He looked to Mrs Younge, who raised an eyebrow. Did she know more about the heart and mind of a young girl than he did? Would telling her what Wickham was and forbidding her from speaking to him just push her toward him?
Perhaps her companion was right and unfolding Wickham’s vices or dragging her away was unnecessary. Georgiana was only fifteen, after all, and he would rather not explain what vicious propensities existed in one man. He wanted to keep his sister a little girl for a while longer, but she could learn now what sort of men existed in the world.
“He has made poor choices, I am afraid, and has wasted a great deal of money.”
“Oh, that is unfortunate,” she said, entering the room and putting on her bonnet. “I hope he has learnt his lesson. Once he has been called to the bar, he will be in a better situation. Is that any reason to leave Ramsgate?”
Darcy felt in his heart that it was, but Mrs Younge was certain itwould have the opposite effect he wished for. “I consider it might be, given how much you have seen of him. Besides, a man such as him is not a proper friend for you. You have your reputation to remember.”
“I have made other friends here,” Georgiana pleaded, “and it is unfair to take me from all of them because of your quarrel with one of them. I am not a little girl for you to direct and control.”
“But you are in my care.”
Her sweet expression turned sulky. “You are always telling me where to go and what to do.”
Like any guardian of a fifteen-year-old should. “You forget I let you go to Ramsgate,” he said drily.
“But here you are trying to drag me home. You are not my father!”
Her vehemence hurt him, however right she was. Did all girls go through a defiant phase against their parents? Perhaps Mrs Younge did know best, because he surely did not know how to proceed. “I still must protect you, however little you like it now.”
His sister glared, and Mrs Younge went to Georgiana, putting an arm around her. “I am certain since Wickham knows you are here, sir, he will withdraw rather than meet you. He is sensible and would hate to distress you. I daresay we will not see him for the rest of your visit.”
Georgiana’s shoulders slumped. Before he could ask her what was the matter, Mrs Younge said, “If you are still concerned, why do you not stay longer, rather than take Miss Darcy away?”
Georgiana looked at him with bright eyes. “Would you stay? For a fortnight? Ten days,” she amended when he frowned. “You can meet my friends and we can walk the pier and ride to East Cliff Lodge, and go to the theatre in Margate, and?—”
“Very well, my dear,” Darcy said, laughing at her enthusiasm. “I will stay.”
His sister hugged him tightly. “Thank you!”
