“I see,” Elizabeth said, although she was not sure she did.
Miss de Bourgh sat up a little straighter. “And they were very close, yes. Fitzwilliam hated to be away from her. And she, him. Once, they were all but inseparable.”
“He told me he very often has to go away on business, though. She did not go with him?”
“No, she spent much of her time alone, especially after her father died and Fitzwilliam had to take over the running of the estate,” Miss de Bourgh went on. She stopped, smiling to herself. “Georgiana was a light to this world. Her smile could turn anyone’s bad mood in an instant. I know she very often did so for me,” Miss de Bourgh looked down at her hands, the corners of her mouth turned down and trembling.
“Yes, she was a sweet child; I will admit that. And Darcy loved her,” Lady Catherine said. “That only made the betrayal all the worse.”
“Is there no way that Mr Darcy and Georgiana might overcome their differences and see each other again?” Elizabeth asked. “If there was such closeness, then there must be a way to mend the breach, no matter what the offense. Surely they would both wish it.”
“Perhaps he will forgive her in time. We can only hope that Wickham does not ruin her character as he has blighted her prospects.” Lady Catherine sniffed. “I do not view the case with any optimism. We have already seen that Georgiana’s judgement is weaker than her husband’s persuasion. And Wickham is capable of anything. I have no opinion of the man, and I told Darcy’s father as much when he was alive. But would he listen to me? No! And you see now where it has led. My niece’s husband is a scoundrel.”
Elizabeth bit her lip, picturing the uncertain life her sister-in-law must now lead. From what Mrs Reynolds had haltingly explained, and now what Lady Catherine and Anne had told her, Georgiana Darcy — now Georgiana Wickham — seemed to be nothing more nor less than a naive young woman who had made a foolish choice. If Mr Wickham was as bad as Lady Catherine painted him, her fate must be pitiable indeed. “Is there nothing we can do? Perhaps we could have a judge rule for a divorce? I am sure she was under duress when she married the man, if he is as deplorable as you say.”
“I am surprised to hear you suggest it,” Lady Catherine reproved her. “Bad as Wickham is, the shame of a divorce would be still worse.”
Though not entirely in agreement — without knowing the reality of Georgiana’s situation, it was impossible to say which fate might be preferable — Elizabeth chose not to argue. “Indeed, it would be a step to be taken only under the most severe circumstances,” Elizabeth agreed.
“I hope Cousin Georgiana is well,” Miss de Bourgh said softly. “She was always so sweet and shy. And I have never known a lady more accomplished on the pianoforte.”
Lady Catherine sighed heavily and got a distant look in her eyes. “She did play most beautifully. And she had the voice of an angel.”
The lesson completed, Elizabeth was glad to go to her room to rest before tea. Her heart was heavy with all she had learned. The more she turned the predicament around in her mind, the more she was convinced that Mr Darcy ought to meet with his sister. What if Georgiana was at this very moment regretting her decision, but with no recourse? Would Mr Darcynot feel terrible if he knew his sister had wanted to come back home for help, but did not think she deserved to go to him?
She chewed her lower lip, almost in agony over the problem. Who was she to bring up the subject with Mr Darcy? Surely, he would resent her for trying to meddle in his affairs. Besides, she did not have the right to meddle, did she? She was his wife in name only, with little confidence between them.
Elizabeth got up and began to pace. However much she might have come to respect and even admire Mr Darcy, he had married her only out of duty, to avoid a dreadful scandal. Nothing more. What kind of influence did she have in a situation like that?
A knock sounded on the door. Elizabeth turned to it, grateful to have her gloomy thoughts interrupted. “Enter!” she called, and was surprised to see that Miss de Bourgh looked around the doorframe. She entered the room, bowing rather clumsily. She supposed Lady Catherine would say it was down to Miss de Bourgh’s weak back muscles or some other malady.
“Miss de Bourgh, what a surprise. Is something amiss?” Elizabeth asked.
“No, not at all,” she replied, her voice weak and breathy, almost too low to hear. “I came to ensure that Mama did not offend you too much with her lectures. She means well, I think. But her delivery is off-putting.”
Elizabeth looked at her in surprise. “That is very kind of you. Your mother is…shall we say, strident? But I believe she has a good heart. And I am grateful for her advice — truly, I am. My parent’s home is considerably less formal and elegant than Pemberley, and my mother’s housekeeping not always what I should wish to emulate.”
“I confess, I am glad that you asked her to give you some advice,” Anne said with a little laugh. “She will be much easier to handle for a few days. I love Mama, but that does not always mean she is right. It broke my heart to see how she talked about Georgiana when we first heard the news. She was even tempted to disown Fitzwilliam as well.”
“Was she?” Elizabeth asked. “I do not quite understand you. What offense had he committed?”
“None whatsoever, but that is Mama for you. She has a good heart, as you said, but it is sometimes led astray by her quick temper.” She paused. Smiling sheepishly at Elizabeth, she leaned forward. “I am glad my cousin found you,” she admitted. Relief washed over her face. “Mama was set on the two of us marrying, but Darcy and I would have made a very poor match.”
“I am glad to hear it,” Elizabeth said in surprise, considerably relieved that Anne had not been any more interested in the union than Mr Darcy himself. “As I am glad to know you, Miss de Bourgh. I think we will be good friends.”
Anne smiled at her. “I think we shall.”
When Miss de Bourgh had gone, Elizabeth sat down on the sofa, looking out her bedchamber window, though seeing nothing. There must be something she could do for Georgiana Wickham. No matter what mistakes she had made, the sweet girl who looked up to her brother and sang like an angel must not be allowed to remain in exile forever.
But what Elizabeth might do to help her, she had not the slightest idea.
Chapter 13
Darcy smiled crookedly to himself. It was hardly a productive use of time to sit in his study, staring into the distance and turning a quill over in his hands. It was particularly absurd to do so when he had a thick stack of documents waiting for his attention — and yet this was precisely how he had spent far too much of the day.
Elizabeth’s lessons with the formidable Lady Catherine were to blame. He worried for her. She seemed confident that she could handle his aunt, but the reality of Lady Catherine’s bluntness and disregard for other’s feelings was impossible to anticipate. That Elizabeth might find herself badly mistaken seemed all too likely.
Then, too, Darcy was not entirely sure that he wished his wife to follow Lady Catherine’s lead in managing a large house and estate. Lady Catherine’s home was over-formal, even fussy, and her neighbours subject to all kinds of well-meaning but officious interference. He would hardly wish Elizabeth to copy such traits.
