Elizabeth took a long breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not saying you should tell Georgiana that she marries him and what happens to her son. Just tell her that you approve if she marries someone who works for her.” Was he still consumed by the pride Darcy had when she first knew him? “Or do you look down on Mr Willers because he doesn’t have wealth or a title?”
Now he looked at her, and she didn’t like what she saw there. Her accusation had hurt him.
“How can you ask me that, and after all this time?” The hurt was gone; now he looked insulted. “Do you see me condescending to anyone who works for me? Do I not treat everyone equally? And not only because I am supposed to, but because I know it is right? If Mr Willers is whom Georgiana wants, then so be it.”
Darcy had left the nineteenth century with the hope his sister would just be happy with whatever choices she made. Elizabeth had known that and still asked the spiteful question. She should never have said it. But if he cared so much for his sister’s happiness, why didn’t he help her now when she was so sad about Mr Willers leaving Pemberley?
“Then talk to Georgiana about what will make her happy. I don’t understand why you won’t spend five minutes with the person you left me for and went back in time to save.”
Darcy slowly turned round and stared at her. “Left you for?” he repeated. “You make it sound like it was easy to leave you. Do you resent me for going back to save her from marrying Wickham and dying?”
“No,” she said firmly. “She’s your family and you love her, and she had no one else.” He opened his mouth to speak but she wouldn’t let him. “And she’s herenow, but you want nothing to do with her even though she still needs you.”
He scoffed. “She doesn’t need me.”
“She does!” Elizabeth insisted. “She’s looking for validation from the one person alive, then or now, who can give it to her. Georgiana needs you to tell her she can marry him, that she can speak first, and that the status and wealth of her husband don’t matter to you.”
“She doesn’t need me,” he repeated.
Why was he so adamant? It was such a small thing to tell his sister she was doing a good job and that marrying the steward wasn’t beneath her. “Your support still means something to her.No, not something; it means everything. Why is saying ‘I give my blessing for you to propose to Mr Willers’ so damn hard for you?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he mumbled.
“Explain it to me, then,” she said darkly. “Try to use small words.”
He threw down his phone and stared at her. “Because you have never had to sacrifice anything!”
Elizabeth drew back, her heart racing, absolutely gutted. She could read Darcy well after all these years together. The guilt filled his eyes as soon as the words were out of his mouth. But it was too late to take them back. He said nothing he didn’t mean.
Darcy had made the sacrifice to leave behind everything and everyone because she couldn’t abandon the rights and knowledge she had here. He had been brave, and she had been a coward. He gave up extraordinary wealth and power, and a family and community who loved him, for a woman who, while prepared to go back for him, would have been afraid and reluctant if she had.
“Daddy!” Sandra came out of her room. “It’s Thursday. I have maths homework.”
Elizabeth and Darcy shared a look; the conversation was over for now, even though her heart pounded and she could have burst into tears.
Sandra came to the counter with her bag and pulled out her folder and a paper with times tables review. Although Darcy rolled his eyes over children being forced to do more work once school was over for the day, he routinely sat with her to keep her on task, even though he “did the maths the wrong way.”
While they got to work, Georgiana picked up Sandra’s school bag and ran her fingers along the zipper. She carefully tugged it down and watched the teeth pull apart, and then moved the zipper up to close them, repeating the process over and over.Elizabeth had seen the same looks of marvel and fascination on Darcy’s face, although he had been here so long those moments were few and far between.
Did he imagine going back to what must be more familiar?
“What is it Sandra calls you both?” Georgiana asked, startling her out of her thoughts.
“Mummy and daddy, or mum and dad, have replaced mamma and papa,” Elizabeth answered, busying herself with dinner prep so no one could see the tears hovering in her eyes. “We thought about having her call us ‘Mommy’—which is American—and ‘Papa,’ which is what Fitzwilliam is used to, but we didn’t want her to stand out from her friends by using old-fashioned names or Americanisms.”
She and Darcy couldn’t dissociate themselves from who they were. She was raised in America and he was born in 1784, but Sandra was a modern English girl. They had agreed to make sure their daughter was grounded in the world she would grow up in.
How grounded was Darcy in this century if he was still thinking about the sacrifices he made to be here?
Darcy did homework and played with Sandra while Georgiana tried to help her with dinner. Sandra would have been a better assistant, and she couldn’t even use a sharp knife or easily reach the counter. While Georgiana knew what to keep in her larder and what dishes to order for dinner based on what she had, she did not know how to actually prepare her own food. Elizabeth hoped Georgiana never entered the kitchens at Pemberley because the cook and maids would likely spend hours undoing her attempts to “help.”
But Elizabeth appreciated her interest, especially with Darcy pointedly avoiding looking in her direction.
The evening passed slowly, with the silent tension between her and Darcy rising to an uncomfortable level she was certain the others felt. Darcy put a whiny Sandra to bed, and Georgianadidn’t stay with them much longer before going to her own room with “the book picture on my in-ter-net box.”
Darcy tensed his shoulders when they were alone, like he was bracing himself. But Elizabeth found she didn’t have the energy, not to hear about his regrets about leaving the nineteenth century or to resume any talk about what Georgiana needed from him.
How could he disregard his sister, like it was nothing? What worried her more was that if he could so easily overlook Georgiana, how easy would it be for him to ignoreher? Georgiana would eventually return home, but she would stay with a husband who regretted all he had given up to be with her.
