She huffed. “Just a friend. Must I tell you all it says?” she asked, turning pink.
It was unlike her to demand privacy. “Only if you think it concerns me. I did not come to press you. I came to ask why have you left your friends? Did their high spirits distress you?”
His sister stuffed the letter into her pocket and pushed her way past him. “Not at all. I like them all very much. I will return to them.”
Mrs Younge came to his side as he watched Georgiana go.
“She has been reading letters in every quiet moment since Iarrived,” he said. “Whenever I come near or ask about them, she tucks them away.”
“It is just the private laughs and harmless secrets as all girls have between one another,” Mrs Younge said. “Nothing more worrying than whatever talk is going on right now between her friends,” she added, pointing to the Bennet girls.
“It is unlike her to keep anything from me.”
“She is a young lady now, not a little girl, and needs to have privacy.” Mrs Younge gave him an indulgent look. “Best to pretend you do not notice, sir, lest you embarrass her. Older brothers are not confidants to their sisters.”
It was hard to act like a brother when he had been thrust into the role of father. He supposed Mrs Younge must be right; Georgiana never gave him any trouble, and Mrs Younge had more experience with fifteen-year-old girls than he did. Still, he listened to their conversation as the Belle Vue Tavern came into sight.
“Have you seen any pleasant men in Ramsgate—other than Wickham, of course?” Lydia asked Georgiana. “Have you had any flirting?”
“No,” his sister whined. “I would not even know how to flirt. I am so timid.”
“Oh, you are so tall and pretty and wealthy, you will not have to flirt to find a husband,” cried Lydia.
“I hope so, because I should like to have a husband. I hate the idea of being on parade to find one. I just want to be married, and quickly, and without having to be on display in society first.”
“Not me,” cried Lydia. “Being on display is the best part, and you will get to be on display in town with new clothes and fine amusements to get a husband.”
“Is anyone encouraging you to marry?” Elizabeth asked sceptically. “You and Lydia”—she turned to look at her sister—“are very young.”
Lydia stuck out her tongue, but his sister said softly, “My aunt Lady Catherine has mentioned it, but only as a far-off thing. But I am not so young as everyone thinks,” she added with a pout. “I am fifteen. I could have a husband now.”
“My aunt Philips wants us so to get husbands, you can’t think!” cried Kitty.
“Wickham would make a good husband,” Lydia insisted. “Anyone that handsome would.”
“He is not even in Ramsgate,” Elizabeth said matter-of-factly. “Just because a single woman goes to the seaside does not mean she must return home with a husband.”
“Jane will be quite an old maid soon, I declare. She is our eldest sister, Georgiana. Older than Lizzy. Lord, how ashamed I should be of not being married before two-and-twenty!”
“If only we could all have a seaside romance,” Kitty said.
“I should like to have a romance,” Georgiana said wistfully, and Darcy’s stomach twisted. Were such fancies typical of young ladies? If they were, it was something no brother should hear.
“A seaside romance would be just the thing,” Lydia agreed. “My mother encourages us all to get husbands before we go back to Longbourn. I had hoped Wickham might be the man, but he knows you better, Georgiana. If he likes you more, you have the greater claim, since you have known him the longest.”
Georgiana reached a hand into her pocket and then stopped. As much as he disliked the topic, Darcy was glad his sister talked with her friends rather than going off to read letters alone. “I, I could not say who he likes better. It is difficult to tell.”
“Well, I will take him if you do not!” cried Lydia with a grin as she linked an arm through Georgiana’s.
Kitty pointed to something and the three younger girls ran ahead, Mrs Younge a few steps behind them and admonishing them to walk like ladies. Darcy stood and watched them, and Elizabeth noticed how he hung back.
“I suppose hopes of romance and flirtation seem very small to a man of the world,” she said in an arch manner he supposed was typical for her. Or perhaps she was angry with him for his words last night.
Rather than agree and offend her, he observed, “Your youngest sister is taken with Mr Wickham.”
She instantly looked embarrassed. “I have noticed Lydia’s interestin him. My mother wants us all settled; we have only a thousand pounds each after the death of both our parents. As much as I think she is too young, I see no harm in knowing him better, even though it will come to nothing.”
He barked a dry laugh. “I have known him all my life, and I assure you he is not worth knowing.”
