“I wished to speak to you about this marriage, my dear.”
Georgiana looked at her, uncertain how to reply.
“You appear unhappy.”
Georgiana merely shook her head.She is still a child, Lady Eleanor thought,she must learn to grow.
“Yes, you are—everyone perceives it. You must understand that your brother’s marriage was inevitable. He has reached the age when men marry.”
“I know that, Aunt.”
“Then is it…about the lady he has chosen?”
Georgiana said nothing, but lowered her eyes beneath Lady Eleanor’s steady gaze.
“Look at me, Georgiana. You are no longer a child—you might marry at any time—and you must learn to meet the world as it is. You may disapprove of your brother’s choice and thus create a distance between yourself and them, or you may accept Anne and their union and be happy with them. To like or dislike a person is, in the end, a matter of choice. Do not allow yourself to be separated from them.”
That evening, after dinner, Lady Eleanor spoke only a few words to Darcy. They both looked towards Georgiana, who was conversing with Lady Wharton, and he immediately understood.
On their way home, he stopped the carriage near a small park and asked Georgiana to walk with him along a quiet path. For some time, they walked in silence, watching the passing carriages and the people, before he spoke.
“You are my sister. That will never change. I love you more than anyone in this world, and I wish you to be close both to my future wife and to me.”
“I understand,” she said softly.
“You do not appear to understand. You behave as though I were to leave your life entirely.”
“It is not that,” she replied at last.
“But what, then?”
“I have always hoped that when you married, I should gain a sister.”
“Anne is your cousin.”
“No, you do not understand. I imagined…a wife who was not already part of our family. I thought of you with a lady…like…Miss Bennet. When you were at the Bingleys’ dinner, I saw you together, and she seemed suited to you—someone who might become the mistress of Pemberley…Forgive me,” she added quickly, as Darcy remained silent. “I speak foolishly.”
“Indeed,” he said.
With unexpected severity, he directed her back to the carriage, and they returned home without further conversation.
This is the last time I shall think of her, he told himself, as Elizabeth rose in his mind and in his heart, as if called forth by Georgiana’s words. He was angry with his sister, but in truth, he knew she was not to blame. He was angry with the path he had chosen. Once more—only once—will I allow you, Elizabeth Bennet, into my thoughts, he said silently…to himself, and to her.
That night, he dreamed—not of the marriage before him, but of another. And of that enchanting sorceress in his arms.
The following morning, Georgiana waited for her brother at breakfast far longer than was her usual habit. When he appeared, there was a heaviness in his expression that warned her this was not a moment for lightness. She could not tell whether it was their conversation that had troubled him, or her own manner, which might have seemed unkind towards Anne.
She felt she must apologise.
“I am sorry if I caused you pain last night.”
There was something unfamiliar in her brother’s expression. He had been grave before, even angry at times, but never absent from her. Now he seemed almost a stranger, and she could not understand it. Yet, as he listened, he forced himself to smile.
“You did not, my dear. But we must conclude our conversation. Anne is to be my wife, and I expect you to be on the best of terms with her. I am convinced you will become friends; but I rely upon you to assist her in becoming accustomed to our way of life.”
He spoke with warmth, though it seemed at variance with the sadness in his eyes, and Georgiana felt at once that he was right.
“Of course, I shall do all that is necessary to become her friend.”
