Page 118 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

That last sentence had the sound of a door being locked.

“When do you mean to go?” Georgiana asked.

“Tomorrow, if the horses are fit, the day after if they are not. I will not have the matter ripen while timid people debate.”

“My brother will not welcome it.”

“He does not have to welcome anything.”

Anne said, “Must Georgiana go?”

“Of course. She is Darcy’s sister, so her presence will lend the visit consequence and remind both Darcy and the Bennets of what his family expects.”

“I do not wish to be used against my brother,” Georgiana said.

“I am using you for your brother. There is a difference, though I do not expect you to understand it at your age.”

The dismissal stung less than the certainty behind it. Lady Catherine had justified every intrusion to herself: the blotting paper was not theft, duty excused the prying, Georgiana’s presence made coercion proper, and insulting Miss Elizabeth Bennet was instruction.

Georgiana saw all this, but she could not prevent it. “I want to write to my brother.”

“No.”

Lady Catherine’s gaze rested on her. “Do not warn him. I intend to see Darcy as he is, not as he prepares himself for my arrival. You will write nothing.”

“That is not fair.”

“It is necessary.”

Anne drew a small breath. “Mama.”

“I said no.”

Silence followed. Georgiana heard the fire shift in the grate and the faint sound of a carriage somewhere beyond the windows. Rosings, which had always seemed too large, felt narrow.

Georgiana curtsied because she could not think what else to do. “May I go?”

“You may go and prepare. Pack for a week. Mrs. Jenkinson will see to what is suitable.”

“I can pack for myself.”

“For a journey under my care, you will do as I direct.”

Georgiana left before her control failed. In her room, she closed the door and stood with her back against it. The letters remained in the trunk and the keys were in her pocket. Those victories were real, but Lady Catherine controlled the rest. Hertfordshire would see her aunt before she could warn him. Whoever Miss Elizabeth Bennet was beyond the life Darcy had given her in ink, his circle would judge her before they knew her.

Georgiana crossed to the desk and took out a sheet of paper. She could not send a letter, and it might never leave Rosings, but leaving the words unwritten felt worse.

“My dear Brother,

I fear our aunt has learned more from your letters than you intended anyone but me to know, though I did not give them to her. She has decided to go to Hertfordshire and take me with her. I am uncertain whether she will allow me to send this, but remember that I wished to warn you.

She stopped. Ink trembled at the end of the pen and left a dark point on the page.

Georgiana folded the paper without sealing it and placed it inside the lining of the workbag with Darcy’s letters. Then she opened her trunk and began to pack.

By evening, Lady Catherine’s orders had passed from room to room. Trunks came down, servants counted the linen, the coachman inspected the carriage, and Mrs. Jenkinson prepared draughts and shawls enough to move an invalid through three climates.

Collins returned with a corrected sermon and received the news as proof that Providence had made him useful.