Yes, he did know the rest. He had missed his sister’s company and was looking forward to visiting her, and in order to surprise her, he had not written to inform her that he was coming to Ramsgate. When he went into the parlor, the first person he saw was not Georgiana, but Wickham, and he had no doubt why he was there. He grabbed him by his coat, pushed him down the stairs and into the foyer before throwing him into the street. Hearing the commotion, Mrs. Younge came to see what was happening and encountered her employer in full fury. He very quickly got the whole of the story, and giving her only enough time to gather her belongings, demanded she leave immediately.

Georgiana was correct. Despite tears and protests, he had refused to hear what she had to say. He sent her to her room and ordered the servants to pack up everything as they would be returning to London immediately. On several occasions, she had tried to tell him the truth of what had happened, but he could not bear to hear Wickham’s name.

“I know what I did was wrong, and now that you know the whole of it, you will understand that I would never, ever marry without your consent. What I did was foolish and immature, but I love you, and I would not hurt you for all the world. I was never at risk of becoming Wickham’s wife.”

Darcy opened his arms to his sister, and she came running to him. He kissed her on the top of her head and told her, “I was not angry with you, but with myself. It was I who had personally interviewed Mrs. Younge and had decided she was an appropriate companion for you. But that is in the past.”

Gesturing for his sister to sit down, he said, “Your future is quickly upon us. In the spring, you will come out into society. It is well known that you are to inherit a great deal of money. There are men who will say anything if they think it will give them access to your fortune. Allow me to give you an example. You are acquainted with Abigail Curzon,” and Georgiana nodded. “Would you describe her as a ‘jewel plucked out of the night sky’?” Georgiana tried not to laugh because poor Abigail was one of those unfortunate people who had inherited the very worst traits from both of her parents, and Georgiana shook her head “no.”

“Exactly. She is an intelligent and thoughtful young lady, but she is not handsome, except to Lord Corman’s spendthrift son, who paid her that compliment within my hearing.”

“Will, did Mr. Corman actually say ‘plucked’?” Miss Curzon was often described as having a “swan neck,” and in her case, it was true. She had the longest neck of anyone Georgiana had ever seen.

“Yes, he said ‘plucked.’ And I understand why that word came to mind.” And both of them started to laugh.

“Oh Will, I can see your spirits have lifted. I am truly sorry for the hurt I caused you, but I am much wiser now. I understand that there are people who will lie and deceive for their own gain. I shall be on my guard against such ruses.”

“Georgiana, you know you are the dearest part of my life. You and I, we are a pair. Anything that injures you hurts me. So come and give me a kiss, and we shall say good night.”

Later that evening, while in his study drinking his nightly glass of brandy, Darcy wondered at his inability to take the true measure of a woman. He did not have this problem with men. He knew Wickham to be a liar, and possibly a thief, from when they were mere boys. And then there was Charles Bingley, an awkward young man, who had very few social graces but who was a stellar fellow. He had recognized his attributes from the very beginning of their acquaintance.

But women? They were something else entirely. He had seriously misjudged Mrs. Younge. His housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, had cautioned him that she might be too young, but then he thought of Mrs. Jenkinson. As devoted as she was to Anne, she was old enough to be her mother. Darcy believed the ten-year age difference between Georgiana and Mrs. Younge would make her presence not only tolerable but enjoyable. But it had all gone so badly.

And Jane Bennet. There was another one. He had truly believed she liked Bingley very much, but he did not see any depth of regard in her looks. But Elizabeth insisted she was very much in love with him, and it was only her modesty that prevented an open display of affection.

And had he fallen any shorter of the mark than when judging Miss Elizabeth Bennet? He knew her to be a fighter from their time together at Netherfield Park. She challenged almost everything he said with a biting wit and sometimes just biting. How could he have believed that the same woman who had made such sharp remarks while dancing with him at the Netherfield ball would put aside all prejudices because he was honoring her with his proposal?

Darcy stared into the fire and remembered the evening at Rosings when Elizabeth was sitting at the pianoforte. They had a pleasant, almost playful, exchange in which she accused him of trying to frighten her, and he teased her in return, but concluded by praising her playing. If Aunt Catherine had not interrupted the conversation, he would have said more. But before she resumed her playing, Elizabeth had looked at him with a puzzled expression that he had interpreted as her wanting to know him better so that she might understand him better.

He would have to put these thoughts from his mind for the time being as he had promised Georgiana that they would spend the holidays with the Smythes before returning to London for her last term at seminary. After that, he would be free to make the journey to Pemberley, and the view of the Peaks with their ever-changing landscapes would restore his spirits. Because of the lingering memory of Elizabeth sitting outside the parsonage clutching his letter to her bosom, he refused to be devoid of all hope, and if there was a solution to be found, it would be found at Pemberley.

Chapter 10

Shortly after Lizzy and Jane returned to Longbourn from their travels, Lizzy was finally able to unburden herself as to what had transpired at the parsonage. Jane’s response was to be expected. Because of his place in society, she was greatly surprised by Mr. Darcy’s offer of marriage and equally dismayed by the mode of his declaration. However, it was merely in the blink of an eye before she went from chastising the gentleman for assuming so much to feeling sorry for him.

Jane was even more surprised when Lizzy acquainted her with all of the facts concerning Mr. Wickham and Miss Darcy. She now believed the very worst about him, and she would shortly have proof of it.

The Bennet family had very good relations with their servants, but it was Mrs. Hill whom they loved and trusted. Because of her many years of service to the family, there were very few topics that were not freely discussed in front of her, and Mrs. Hill understood that any confidences shared with her would remain within the confines of Longbourn. However, Mrs. Hill often shared news of what was going on in the village and the surrounding farms because every piece of gossip was quickly circulated amongst the servants of the farmers and shopkeepers.

“I was talking to the Smart girls,” Mrs. Hill began. “All four of them was hired by Miss Bingley when she come to Netherfield, and while the Bingleys were there, they hardly shared a thing of what was going on abovestairs, afraid they was of being sacked. But now that the lot of them are gone, they could hardly wait to get all of it out. But I doubt that you two would be wanting to hear such tattling.”

“Oh, how wrong you are, Mrs. Hill. We want to hear every juicy morsel, and nothing should be left out,” Lizzy said, laughing. Although Jane had resigned herself to the fact that Mr. Bingley and she would not see each other again, Lizzy understood her sister would want to hear everything she could about him.

“First of all, Martha said Mr. Bingley was as nice as could be, and the only thing that could put him in a sour mood was two rainy days in a row so he couldn’t go out riding. What Martha said about the others was that Miss Bingley was never happy with their work and was always complaining, that Mrs. Hurst went along with anything her sister said, and that Mr. Hurst couldn’t be kept from the port wine no matter what his wife said to him. The only juicy piece of gossip was that Miss Bingley was flirting with Mr. Darcy all the time, but he wasn’t paying her no mind. She heard that from Jeremy Stockard, who was hired on as a footman. He could hardly believe that people were willing to pay him good money to stand by a door with a powdered wig on his head, so the ladies wouldn’t have to open it themselves. But that’s what Miss Bingley wanted, so he lined his pockets and kept his mouth shut.

“I says to Martha, ‘Well, there’s not much news there. It’s just as you’d expect,’ and she said that was true but there was a surprise, and that was Mr. Darcy. Now, I know you don’t like Mr. Darcy, Miss Lizzy, but it seems that he was a good friend to Mr. Bingley, and when Mr. Bingley decided to have the ball, well, there was no way it could happen without some help. So Mr. Darcy sent a letter to wherever he lives in Derbyshire, and the cook, butler, and a wagonload of servants come down to get everything ready for the big night. And all of Mr. Darcy’s servants went on and on about how good it was to work for him and Miss Darcy. Well, I never would have believed it from what I heard about him from the time at the assembly when he snubbed Miss Lizzy.”

Jane looked at Lizzy out of the corner of her eye. It seemed as if evidence was building that her sister had seriously misjudged Mr. Darcy.

“But that’s nothing compared to what’s being said about Mr. Wickham,” Mrs. Hill said in a conspiratorial whisper. “Sally Smart, who works for the Drapers, says Mrs. Draper has been crying on and off for days because Mr. Wickham didn’t pay any of his bills. What Sally said was that Mr. Draper had ordered some expensive heavy fabric and a brass clasp from London for a cloak that Mr. Wickham wanted made special. He told them he’d pay them when he got paid, but he never did, and Mrs. Draper is afraid he never will. And once word got out that Mr. Draper hadn’t been paid, others from the shops said they were owed money too. But they hadn’t said nothing before with Mr. Wickham being an officer and a gentleman and all. But Mr. Corbin said, gentleman or no, he’s writing to Colonel Forster. He wants his money.”