It was worse than Elizabeth could have imagined. “How awful,” she breathed.
“Indeed, it was awful. Mr Darcy has not written to her or spoken of her since. And of course no one here would be so forward as to speak of her, when the master will not. It is as if she has already departed this life, while the ghost of her hangs about the house still.”
“Mrs Wickham has not come home since the elopement?” Elizabeth asked.
“Heavens, no,” Mrs Reynolds said. “Mrs Wickham would not step foot on Pemberley soil again until her brother reached out to her.”
“Well, perhaps she should,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “The present state of affairs is untenable. Certainly for Mr Darcy, and I suspect for Mrs Wickham as well, if they were once so close. Ignoring it will not make it any better.”
“I would not gainsay you, ma’am. This is not what Mr Darcy would have wished for her, but there is no going back now,” Mrs Reynolds replied. “I would be overjoyed to welcome Mrs Wickham back into the house, but I am afraid Mr Darcy would forbid it.”
Elizabeth nodded, her mind a swirl of activity. “Thank you for telling me what transpired between them, Mrs Reynolds. I know it was not an easy story to relate.”
Their conference concluded, Elizabeth went out to walk about the gardens. Mrs Reynolds’ story explained much of why Mr Darcy had married her so quickly after the compromise, and why he had been so upset. He had married her out of honour, not wishing to be like the scoundrel who had run off with his sister. And Mrs Reynolds was certain that Georgiana’s dowry had everything to do with why Mr Wickham had lured her away from her brother’s protective gaze and affection.
Perhaps that was not surprising. Thirty thousand pounds! Even after seeing the brilliance and quiet elegance of Pemberley, it was an almost unbelievable sum. And now this Mr Wickham did have Georgiana, but did not have his thirty thousand pounds. It must be hoped that Mrs Reynolds wasmistaken, and he did have some real affection for her, or her position would be pitiable indeed.
“Poor Georgiana,” Elizabeth mumbled as she walked along the hedgerows, whose leaves were turning and falling in small heaps around them, like little children hanging about the skirts of their mother.
It was difficult not to worry for Georgiana Wickham. When they had married under such circumstances, how could her husband possibly be an honourable man? It was a dreadful pity. And it was a pity, too, that the close relationship between brother and sister had been broken. Perhaps she should persuade Mr Darcy to write to his sister again. She raked her teeth over her lower lip. Would Mr Darcy even listen to her? She might have the title of his wife and mistress of Pemberley, but they most certainly did not share the confidence and closeness that a married couple should.
Elizabeth continued to walk even as clouds blew over the sun and the air grew cool, wandering aimlessly through the hedgerows and over the winding paths. She thought about what she would feel if one of her sisters had run away, trying to place herself in Mr Darcy’s position. Elizabeth would undoubtedly have been afraid for her sister, but she would also have been overwhelmed with anger and betrayal. It would have taken a considerable time for those feelings to ease, not only for the sake of the deceit that would undoubtedly have taken place, but also for the ruin that would have cast a pall over the family name.
Mr Darcy had nothing to worry about on this point, or at least not as much as she would have if one of her sisters had been so rash. For her and the rest of her sisters, they would be left to deal with the aftermath of the decision. Their reputations wouldhave been ruined, making it difficult to find husbands. Who would want to marry into a family embroiled in such scandal?
Indeed, it was why she had been grateful to Mr Darcy for marrying her so quickly, if only to protect her sisters’ chances.
However, if one of her sisters had run away and eloped, after an appropriate length of time, she would have wanted to heal the breach between them. Would Mr Darcy really want to keep his sister away for the rest of their lives?
Elizabeth bit her lip, thinking.
Chapter 9
Darcy strode down the corridor, slowing as he came to Elizabeth’s bedroom door. He smoothed down his coat and knocked, knowing that he would lose his nerve if he delayed. It seemed strange to go to his wife’s door, having to wait to be allowed entry. Yet though his wife, she was also still almost a stranger. Certainly, it was the better part of courtesy to wait.
Her maid answered the door. Respectful and correct as always, Stephans acknowledged him with a deferential bow. “Who is it, Stephans?” Elizabeth asked, from somewhere in the room, her voice slightly muffled.
“It is your husband, ma’am,” Stephans answered and stepped out of his way to allow him to enter. Elizabeth rose from her seat at the vanity, where Stephans had no doubt been engaged in arranging her hair. Elizabeth looked lovely in a light green day dress. It was somewhat older and more worn than he would have wanted for his wife, but for now, it would have to do. “I, ah —” Darcy began, stumbling to a halt. He cleared his throat. Why on earth was he so tongue-tied in her presence? “I came to discuss something with you.”
Elizabeth looked at her maid and nodded. “That will be all, Stephans. Thank you.” She gave the young woman a warm smile. Though Stephans bowed and excused herself with as much careful deference as ever, it did not escape Darcy’s notice that she also returned the smile. Elizabeth’s easy friendliness and charm seemed to have won over her lady’s maid with alacrity.
When they were alone, he continued, pulling an envelope from his jacket pocket. “I came to deliver your quarterly stipend.” He held it out to her. Elizabeth took it with what seemed almost like hesitation. “In future it will be paid into your account, but I wanted you to have this should you need anything right away.”
She opened the envelope, her eyes widening in shock as she inspected the contents. “Eighty pounds? Surely not, Mr Darcy. This must be the yearly stipend.”
“No, indeed,” Darcy said with surprise. The amount was ample, he hoped, but by no means excessive for the mistress of Pemberley. Indeed, it would hardly suffice to make up the present deficiencies in her wardrobe. “This is what was agreed upon in the marriage negotiations with your father. I realise you may need more as you get settled here. You may come to me if you find this is not sufficient.”
He refused to take the envelope back, and she let her hands drop to her sides. “Well, thank you. I am unsure what to say, Mr Darcy. This is very generous. I do not think I will need to ask for more.”
He waved away her thanks. “There is another subject I wished to discuss with you before I go down to breakfast. My behaviour in the library the other day was — abrupt. Idid not intend any discourtesy, nor for you to think that you were its cause. I assure you, you were not.” Darcy coughed in embarrassment. “I must apologise. Indeed, I ought to have apologised before.”
“I understand, sir. Please do not worry yourself on that account.” She gave a slight smile. “I should not have interfered in your private affairs.”
“No, none of that was your fault. Please do not think that.” Darcy hesitated. He did not want to go into the details of his break with Georgiana quite yet. Soon, he would have to tell her. But not yet. “Now, I will come to my main reason for coming to you this morning: I intend to go out and visit several of the tenants and neighbours after breakfast. I wondered if you might like to accompany me? If you are amenable, we might begin the bridal visits.”
Her face instantly lit up. “Oh, yes, that would be lovely,” Elizabeth replied eagerly.
Darcy felt a smile come to his face in response. Such unhesitating enthusiasm could not help but be pleasing. “Excellent. Well, I shall come in about an hour, when breakfast is concluded. I am sure you have already had your tray delivered.”
