It was some relief to Georgiana that the rest of the day passed without further argument, though the discord hung over them like a gathering cloud. William was brooding, his frequent glances at Mr. Bingley throughout the day suggesting some attempt to discover an argument that would bring hisfriend to his opinion. That he discovered nothing was evident in his occasional muttering and the continued darkness that stayed with him. Mr. Bingley, by contrast, ignored William’s mood, contenting himself with conversation with Georgiana interspersed with occasional attempts at other occupations. By the time the evening waned, the atmosphere was charged, like a thunderstorm threatening on the horizon.
At length, Mr. Bingley excused himself to retire, and William, with no other choice, decided to do the same. Georgiana went to her rooms, but she only stayed there until she was certain that Mr. Bingley was ensconced in his chambers. Then she left her room and approached William’s door, knocking when she reached it. Snell, her brother’s valet, answered.
“Miss Darcy,” he intoned with his usual lack of inflection.
“I need to speak to my brother, Mr. Snell. It may be best if you absent yourself for the moment.”
The way he regarded her, Georgiana was certain William’s mood had not escaped his attention. Instead of replying, he gestured her into the room and turned to William, who was standing by the window on the far wall, staring out into the night.
“Miss Darcy has come to speak to you, Mr. Darcy. I shall be in your dressing room should you have need of me.”
William turned as Mr. Snell bowed and retreated to the bedchamber. “Yes, Georgiana? What is it?”
Rarely had Georgiana heard her brother use such a shortness of tone with her. There was no need to point it out, so she ignored it.
“Brother, I have something to ask you.”
His expression softening, William gestured to the sofa, though he made no move to sit himself. Having no wish to feel like a supplicant, Georgiana remained standing.
“Brother, I noticed you argued with Miss Elizabeth before we left Longbourn. Can you tell me about it?”
For a moment, William appeared startled that she dared to ask him about it. “It is none of your concern, Georgiana.”
“In fact,” replied she, “I am certain it is. Given my experiences with George Wickham, any matter concerning his actions is my business, especially when it is also about someone I consider a friend.”
When William did not respond at once, Georgiana pressed him again. “William, do not suggest that my understanding is faulty. Mr. Wickham was in that room, plying Miss Elizabeth with his persuasion, and he made his intentions clear. Then you argued with Miss Elizabeth. I wish to know of what your argument consisted.”
William was a stubborn man, and he was unaccustomed to dealing with a sister who insisted rather than trusted. After some resistance, eventually William told her all. Georgiana was not pleased by what she heard.
“Brother,” said she, fighting to keep her vexation in check, “let us discuss these points one at a time so that you understand my sentiments. First, I am not offended that Miss Elizabeth did not view Mr. Wickham’s account of me with suspicion. Given Mr. Wickham’s character, I am not surprised he spoke against us both.”
“No, that much is certain,” agreed William, though he still appeared put out. “Miss Elizabeth should have exercised more caution in dealing with him, but Wickham is credible when he wants to be.”
Pleased that he had allowed that much, Georgiana continued to her next point. “Second is this business with Mr. Bingley. I shall not reiterate my opinion in opposition to your own. Suffice to say that I believe Miss Bennet’s sentiments are genuine. The more pressing point is how you insist on sharing your opinionwith Mr. Bingley. Let me be blunt—if you continue to speak against Miss Bennet, you risk the dissolution of your friendship.”
This time, William sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Seeming unable to bear his weight, he sat heavily in a nearby chair, staring moodily at nothing.
“Unfortunate though it is, I cannot but suppose you are correct.”
“Why is it so important that you carry your point?” asked Georgiana.
“It is not, I suppose,” replied William. “It is just... I have often been a mentor to Bingley, almost like an elder brother. I cannot... Standing by while he makes a mistake—or what I believe will be a mistake—is difficult.”
“That is understandable, Brother, and laudable that you take such prodigious care of Mr. Bingley. But the time has come to allow him to make his choice, lest your repeated objections lead to the end of your friendship.”
“I trust, Sister, that you will allow me the hope that Bingley will come to his senses.”
“You may hope all you like,” replied Georgiana. “Insisting on your interpretation, however, may destroy something you hold dear.
“Finally, I wish to speak of Mr. Wickham, and particularly why he is still free to do as he will.”
William looked up at her with some confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Only that you had the power to check him when he came into the neighborhood, and you did not choose to exercise it.”
William’s expression darkened. “I am no longer responsible for Wickham’s actions, Georgiana. No one can say that I have not done enough.”
“Taking responsibility for Mr. Wickham and warning the townsfolk against him arenotthe same,” insisted Georgiana.
