“I did not know any of this until last summer, when Fitzwilliam told me everything.” Georgiana looked away, and Elizabeth thought she heard her voice falter. “Wickham had made certain I understood he was not my brother from the time I was thirteen. I did not know any better. Over the years, he convinced me that Fitzwilliam was controlling, that he did not wish me to have any independence after becoming my guardian upon Papa's death."
Elizabeth froze in her chair.
"It took nearly two years for him to make me believe it entirely, and soon I considered myself in love with him. I was fifteen years old. He was charming and attentive and very skilled at making people believe whatever he wished them to believe." A sad smile touched her lips. "Including me."
She picked up her cup of lukewarm tea, her hand tightening around the handle.
"He persuaded me to agree to an elopement." She said it simply, without embellishment, though saying it clearly cost her a great deal.
Elizabeth stared. She did not even know how to react.
"My brother arrived in Ramsgate before it could happen. Wickham fled," Georgiana continued. "But before he left, he had spent months convincing me of something. He told me I would lose my hearing one day. Like my mother."
Elizabeth felt her breath catch.
"He said it was inevitable. He said it was a curse upon the women of our family. He said no gentleman would willingly choose a wife who might become deaf and burdensome." Her voice remained steady, though only just. "Then he offered himself as the exception."
The room seemed suddenly quieter.
"He wanted me frightened enough to depend upon him."
"And you believed him."
It was not a question. It was an absent-minded remark that escaped Elizabeth before she realised she had spoken.
"Entirely." Georgiana nodded.
Elizabeth released a heavy sigh.
For the first time, she understood. Not everything. But enough.
She thought of every careful question Darcy had asked. Every observation. Every occasion on which he had positioned himself without drawing attention to it.
"Mr. Darcy was trying to help you from the damage Mr. Wickham caused."
"Yes." Georgiana's answer came without hesitation. "For nearly a year."
Georgiana lowered her eyes again. It was not shame. It was more akin to embarrassment on her brother's behalf.
"He tried everything. Logic. Reassurance. Examples from books. Examples from our mother's life. Nothing worked because fear is not reasonable." A faint smile appeared. "Then he met you."
Elizabeth looked away.
"He saw someone living the future I feared." Georgiana's voice softened. "Someone intelligent and respected and entirely herself. Someone who had built a life without shame or apology."
The words landed with unexpected force.
"You helped me, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth felt something inside her soften.
"You probably do not know that you did. But you did," Georgiana said quietly.
Silence settled between them.
At last Georgiana continued.
"I know he was wrong. I know Fitzwilliam should have told you the truth from the beginning. I know he hurt you." She hesitated briefly. "But I also know he never meant to. He had promised me that he would tell you just days before he saw you with Wickham."
