Chapter 1
“You’ve left it too long, cousin. You need a wife, and Pemberley needs a mistress.”
Darcy looked at Colonel Fitzwilliam in astonishment, but his cousin appeared to be entirely in earnest. “What makes you say such a thing?” Darcy asked, turning his attention back to the final preparations to be made before he departed for Ramsgate the next morning. Naturally, his capable staff had already done the lion’s share of the packing, but only he himself could complete the last review of the papers to bring with him. Fitzwilliam, whose leave from the army was almost up, would leave Pemberley the same day.
His cousin ran a finger over the bookshelf and looked at it, as if inspecting for dust. “I take it back. Your housekeeper is as vigilant as ever.”
“Mrs Reynolds would never allow a speck of dust to rest anywhere in this house — whether or not Georgiana and I are here.” He frowned. “What is all this nonsense about finding a wife, though?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam shrugged. “I do not like to speak out of turn, but you are getting advanced in years, old fellow. Do you not want to find a wife?”
Having selected the necessary documents and secured them in a leather folder for travelling, Darcy tidied the others away in the drawer of his desk and locked it before looking up at his cousin. “I would not call eight and twenty advanced in years,” he said. His smile belied his pretended offense. “Besides that, you are not far behind me.”
“That is beside the point. I must admit that Pemberley is always kept in impeccable order. But there is a woman’s touch that has been lacking for far too long.”
Darcy did take slight offense then. “Georgiana has been doing her best to run the household since she turned fifteen. I know she is gone at the moment, but when she returns, I mean to give her more responsibility. Mrs Younge will lead her along.”
Georgiana’s companion was a most accomplished lady, and with references that had not stinted in her praise. Mrs Younge had already shown her skill in the first months of her employment, for Georgiana had made great steps in overcoming a tendency towards shyness under her care. It was a most promising change. His little sister had always been sweet-tempered and intelligent, not to mention a prodigious talent on the pianoforte. Only a little degree of address and assurance was needed to make her a most accomplished young lady.
“Naturally, I do not mean to criticise Georgiana. But she will not live with you forever, you know. You may only have perhaps three or four years left with her under your roof. And then what will you do? Do you want to end up an old maid?”Fitzwilliam teased, his eyes flashing with mischief. He shook his head teasingly.
“Georgiana is still young. Of course I should like to see her married and settled, when the time is right, but there is no hurry for that. Georgiana shall have a husband truly worthy of her, if I have anything to say about it. Three or four years, Fitzwilliam, how can you think it? In three years, she will still be only nineteen.”
“Well, let us not quarrel over our young ward. There is no hurry for Georgiana to marry. For that matter, I intend to be quite fastidious myself when it comes time to judge a suitor worthy of her. I am sure we can agree on one thing — how excited she will be to see you. You say you have not told her you are going to see her at Ramsgate?”
“I thought it would be a pleasant surprise. It has been some weeks now. She and Mrs Younge must be well settled into their lodgings. They will have had every chance to see the place, so my visit may be a welcome amusement. In any case, it is time. I miss my little sister.” He finished straightening his desk and put the pile of letters he had finished that morning in a neat stack, ready to be collected. “It is a pity you cannot come with me to surprise her. It has been more than a year since she has seen you, has it not?” A long time between cousinly visits, and still longer given that Fitzwilliam was both Georgiana’s second guardian and her favourite relative other than Darcy himself.
Fitzwilliam shook his head, looking downcast. “I know. I will miss seeing her, too. The army is a strict mistress, you know.” He looked about the room and sighed. “How much do you have left to do? Perhaps I might accompany you a little of the way.”
“I should read these letters, but I suppose I can do that in the carriage on the way. Everything else can wait,” Darcy said.
“Go on and read them now. You know you will make yourself sick if you do not look out the window during the carriage ride.”
Darcy sighed. His cousin was right, of course. “These three are from my agents in London. This is from Bingley…” Those could wait until he arrived in Ramsgate. However, he stopped abruptly at the last, seeing a most unwelcome name.
George Wickham.Darcy’s brow furrowed immediately. “This is addressed from Scotland. I hope Wickham is not asking for money again.”
Of course, that was likely too much to hope for. George Wickham, the only son of the former steward of Pemberley, was everything that his honest, upright, dependable father was not. After the late Mr Wickham’s death, he had been raised at Pemberley almost like another son of the house. Darcy’s own father had given him everything, had sent him to school and wished to see him established in a respectable line of work — but it had never been enough. Refusing to go into the church as had been planned for him, Wickham had asked for and received enough money to allow him to study law instead.
Perhaps he would surprise Darcy and actually use the money to become an attorney, rather than squandering it on gambling and women of ill repute. It must be possible, however unlikely.
He tore open the seal and started skimming the missive, hoping for the best while expecting the worst. But Darcy soon found that what he had to read was beyond all expectation.No, he had not expected the worst after all. He could not have imagined anything as bad as this.
“Darcy? What in heaven’s name is wrong?” Fitzwilliam asked. Darcy was not surprised that his shock and horror could be read from his face. It would have been more surprising if his cousin could not see his distress.
He did not even finish before he crumpled the letter. But then he thought better of having to explain and unfolded it, handing it to Fitzwilliam. “I cannot,” he choked.
Fitzwilliam took the missive and smoothed it out. He scanned a few sentences, then snapped his head up. “Wickham has eloped with Georgiana?”
It was even worse to hear the news aloud than to read it, as though by speaking the words aloud, Fitzwilliam had made them real and permanent. “He took her to Gretna Green three days ago. They are already married.”
They were both speechless for a long while. “How could this happen?” Fitzwilliam said at last.
Darcy clenched his fists. “Mrs Younge had to have been an accomplice. If she were trustworthy, Wickham never would have so much as had access to the house. As for the rest…Wickham has always been too persuasive. He has surely told Georgiana any number of lies.”
Fitzwilliam paced furiously back and forth. “Is there a way to have the marriage annulled? She is only sixteen, for goodness’ sake!”
Darcy closed his eyes for a moment, thinking furiously. He wanted a solution more than breath, and yet there seemed none to be found. “I do not think the law will side with us onthat point. Under English law, she could not have been married without our consent as her guardians, but that is precisely why Wickham took her to Scotland. Now that they are married, the courts will not take a woman away from her husband to be given back under the protection of her brother and cousin.”
