Page 56 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“Did you believe him?”

“I must admit I did not. I had known the…gentleman…my entire life. He used to be one of Fitz’s friends, or so I thought. Fitz said he would explain to my…fiancé…that we would not be able to marry until I reached one-and-twenty. ‘So long?’ I asked him. ‘I promised Father that you would not marry until you were older,’ he said. ‘If your…fiancé…truly loves you, he will wait for you. He will use these six years to prove himself worthy of you and your fortune.’”

“How did your fiancé respond to Mr. Darcy’s assertions that you had to wait?”

“He left Ramsgate that afternoon, and I have never heard from him since,” Georgiana admitted, blinking away a tear. “Not even a letter.”

“I know I have never met the man, but I think he must be a blackguard,” Mary said fiercely. “He should have been horsewhipped for trying to elope with you. Fifteen. My word.”

“I should have known better,” Georgiana claimed.

“How? How were you to know that a man you thought you could trust was a scoundrel?”

Georgiana turned her hand in Mary’s and clasped it even harder. “I cannot trust my judgement anymore in regard to gentlemen. They talk smoothly to me, and I quake inside.”

“Listen to me, Georgiana Darcy,” Mary said, staring hard at her. “You have not finished growing up yet. Your understanding will improve every year. I am not the same person I was at fifteen, or sixteen years. I am not the same as I was just one year ago. Pray, do not take yourself to task with so much vigor. Your brother does not expect you to be presented until you are eight-and-ten. If he spoke truly, he will not be encouraging you to marry for a few years more after that.”

Georgiana nodded, but scrunched up her face. In a throbbing voice, she said, “My aunts are pushing me to marry swiftly after I am presented. I do not know what to say to them when they say such things.”

“You need say nothing,” Mary said in a firm voice. “My mother is constantly lamenting that none of her daughters have married. She is afraid my father will die, and we will be left penniless.”

“But…your father cannot be more than fifty.”

“He is eight-and-forty—too young to be thinking about dying,” Mary huffed.

“His fortune is entailed?”

“Yes. My cousin is to inherit.” Mary wrinkled her nose. “We do not know him. So, say nothing when they pester you. Just smile and nod.”

“Just smile and nod,” Georgiana repeated in a contemplative voice.

“A plan helps with anxiety, does it not?” Mary asked. “It helps me.”

Georgiana gazed at her. Hesitantly, she asked, “Do you have a plan for your future?”

Mary sighed. “I am still…considering what to do.”

Georgiana impulsively embraced her. “You will discover a way,” she promised in a whisper.

“I pray so.”

*

Lizzy crossed the paddock to where Mr. Darcy waited patiently in the golden autumn grass for Harry to bring back his stick.

“He is indefatigable,” Mr. Darcy mentioned as she approached.

His striking appearance drew her attention, standing as he was with the blue sky behind him and his hat tipped a little to one side.

She caught her breath, but managed a chuckle. “Harry is beginning to tire. Do you see how he is pausing to look for clumps of green, wide-leaf grasses?”

Mr. Darcy looked away from her toward Harry. “Yes.”

“He particularly likes to chew those. When he is fresh, he is more interested in the stick, but as he tires, he becomes distracted by his favorite grass clumps.”

“Like now,” Mr. Darcy remarked, nodding to where Harry had dropped his stick and was chomping on the grass like it was a rare delicacy. Mr. Darcy glanced around. “Where is my sister?”

“Georgiana and Mary went for a walk on their own,” Lizzy explained. “I think they are kindred spirits.”