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Elizabeth followed Miss Darcy outside and into a far corner of the elaborate rose garden. The blonde girl was seated on a simple wooden bench, and her face was red, her eyes puffy with unshed tears.

Elizabeth halted, suddenly feeling horribly awkward.

“I am sorry, Miss Darcy,” she said contritely as the girl lifted her face. “I did not mean to intrude.”

“No, I am thankful that you are here. Please, will you not join me?”

Elizabeth sat down next to Georgiana and waited patiently. A full minute passed while Miss Darcy played with ribbons on her gown.

“A year ago,” the girl finally said, “I thought I was in love. I was only fifteen years of age at the time, on holiday at Ramsgate by the sea, and a man I had known since my childhood was there as well. We met, and he ... well, I thought he loved me. I certainly believed that I loved him. But he was only after my dowry, Miss Bennet. He convinced me to elope with him to Scotland, but thankfully Fitzwilliam came only a day before our planned trip, and thus I was saved from a lifetime of regret.”

Elizabeth impulsively laid a comforting hand on the girl’s arm, “I am so sorry. How old was the man?”

“Twenty-seven years of age at the time. He is my brother’s age.”

“That is truly horrible that a mature man would do such a thing, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said warmly. “You were, like Juliet, very young, far too young to think of marriage. He clearly sought to take advantage of your youth and inexperience in the ways of the heart.”

Georgiana let out a long breath of air and turned slightly to look straight into Elizabeth’s eyes, “Yes, I was very young and foolish but it is true I am still ... still not fully grown. I have felt so guilty for so long over my actions, but truly it was more Mr. Wickham’s fault ...”

“Mr. Wickham!”

The girl froze at Elizabeth’s cry and her eyes flared wide, “Do you know him, Miss Bennet? Did my brother tell you ...?”

“Mr. Darcy told me nothing about your situation, Miss Darcy, I assure you,” Elizabeth replied, her breath coming quickly. “I do know Mr. Wickham. He was a lieutenant in the militia in Meryton last autumn, though he disappeared some months ago. What a vile man to take advantage of you, Miss Darcy!”

“Please,” the girl said impulsively, “call me Georgiana. I am baring my soul to you, after all, Miss Bennet.”

“Well, you must call me Elizabeth then,” Elizabeth replied decidedly. “My dear Georgiana, I am so very grieved that that foul man plotted against you. I was taken in myself by his charming manners, but have since learned that he left debts and at least one ruined woman behind him.”

“I wonder where he has gone,” Georgiana murmured with a furrowed brow. “I hope that he will not reappear to cause trouble in the future.”

“Mr. Wickham disappeared from Meryton under rather unusual circumstances,” Elizabeth commented. “I wonder if Mr. Darcy might have been involved in some way.”

The girl sighed, “I doubt it, but I will ask him. My brother has always been worried about my reputation, you see, and thus did not move against Mr. Wickham at Ramsgate, or Mrs. Younge, for that matter.”

“Mrs. Younge?”

“She was my paid companion but she was in league with Mr. Wickham. They had a prior acquaintance and intended to divide my dowry in some way after our elopement and marriage.”

Elizabeth shook her head as she tightened her hand on the girl’s arm, “So your companion, whom you thought you could trust, was in league with a childhood friend to entice you into a forbidden marriage. My dear girl, you were faced with a most difficult situation and truly, you were not at fault. It was Mr. Wickham and this Mrs. Younge who deserve the blame.”

“My poor brother,” Georgiana murmured sadly. “I know he felt absolutely wretched about the entire affair since it was he who chose Mrs. Younge as my companion. He also did not tell me of ... of Mr. Wickham’s perfidious behavior these last years, as he did not wish to ruin my good memories from childhood. It has been good to see Fitzwilliam laugh so much since you have come to visit. You have been a delightful guest, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth blushed at this, pleasure mixed with shame. When she considered how she had once championed George Wickham ...

“It has been a great joy to be here, Georgiana.”

***

“You are in love with a steward, Mary?” Charlotte Lucas asked doubtfully.

Mary paced up and down the sitting room attached to her bedchamber and sighed, “Mr. Collins would say, and no doubt he is right, that it is merely infatuation. Oh, but Charlotte, I have never felt anything like this before in my life! I just feel this ... this connection with Mr. Martyn. I do not know what to do!”

Charlotte sat down on the tan couch and patted the spot next to her, “Sit down, Mary.”

Mary obeyed, though she kept her gaze on the wall in front of her.

“I have always been very practical about marriage,” Charlotte proclaimed, and then caught herself. “Perhaps that is not true at that, Mary. When I was seventeen or eighteen years of age, I hoped for more than a good home and a compatible mate. I suppose I had some girlish fantasies that a handsome man of good fortune would sweep me off my feet. But at my age, of course, I am far more pragmatic and indeed I am overjoyed that I have won Mr. Collins. Mary, I ... I appreciate the idea of emotional love in a match, but a steward? He is not eligible. You must see that.”

Mary turned toward her friend and frowned, “He is the younger son of a gentleman, Charlotte. His elder brother, the heir to the family estate, is a good friend of Mr. Darcy’s.”

“Is he indeed? Did he tell you this?”

“No, Miss Darcy did. I met Mr. Martyn in the music room here at Pemberley, you see, and I came along to Bastow so I could see him again. Oh Charlotte, he is not conventionally handsome, but he is such a lively man, such an enthusiastic, honest person. Miss Darcy says Mr. Darcy is very pleased with him, and that Mr. Martyn will likely be the next steward of Pemberley when the current man retires. I know it is foolish, but if I return to Longbourn, I fear I will pine for him the rest of my life!”

Charlotte Lucas suppressed an astonished chuckle. She would have not been surprised to have such a conversation with her sister, Maria, or Kitty or Lydia Bennet, but Mary? Life was full of surprises.

“It is true that as Mr. Martyn is a gentleman’s son, he is at least eligible. Would you like to stay in the parsonage at Bastow with us after Mr. Collins and I are wed?” she offered. “I am certain we will see much of Mr. Martyn and thus you will have an opportunity to further your acquaintance. I truthfully anticipate that your initial enthusiasm for the man will fade with time, nor is there any certainty that Mr. Martyn feels similar things about you.”

Mary straightened eagerly, “Oh Charlotte, are you certain? I would like that above all things! But surely you do not wish for me to be visiting so soon after your marriage?”

“I would be delighted,” the other woman asserted. “I would greatly enjoy your company. Of course, you will need to obtain your father’s permission but yes, I would most appreciate your presence in my new home, and I know Mr. Collins will be entirely pleased with such a prospect.”

Mary’s eyes filled with tears, “Thank you, Charlotte. Thank you.”

***

“I am in love with Miss Bennet and wish to marry her,” Darcy stated baldly.

Mr. Bennet, who had been distracted by the copious number of unfamiliar books in Darcy’s office, coughed at this sudden announcement.

“Er, Elizabeth?”

Darcy blinked and gestured for the man to sit down, “Yes, sir.”

Elizabeth’s father stared at Darcy for a long moment and then sat down slowly, his face sagging.

This was not the response that Darcy expected in the least. He was Fitzwilliam Darcy, owner of the vast estate of Pemberley with an income of 10,000 pounds a year. He had been sought out as one of the premier matches of high society for many years now.

“Is there a problem, sir?” he inquired, struggling to keep his tone calm.

Bennet shook his head, “No, no, Mr. Darcy. I apologize. I dearly love Elizabeth, and I admit it is a shock to hear of your interest in her, to realize I may lose her soon. I believe you and she would deal remarkably well but I confess I had no idea you were preparing to make an offer to her. None at all. I suppose that is my penance for focusing more on books than people during this visit.”

Darcy hesitated, but decided on honesty, “I was greatly attracted to Miss Bennet in Hertfordshire, Mr. Bennet. Since she arrived here, the strength of my adoration has only strengthened. I confess that I had foolishly focused on the necessity of wedding a high society woman with connections, but Mr. Collins’s remarks in the library only minutes ago helped open my eyes.”

Bennet frowned at this, “While I understand your concerns, Mr. Darcy, I must ask this; will you hold it against Elizabeth that her mother is the daughter of a tradesman and vulgar to boot? Will you look down on my daughter for her lack of connections and dowry? If so, I cannot give you my blessing.”

Darcy shook his head decidedly, “If Miss Bennet honors me with her hand in marriage, I can only be thankful. She is a remarkable woman.”

“She is,” his potential father-in-law agreed, “and I assure you that if she does not love you, she will refuse your offer. Do you believe that she loves you, Mr. Darcy?”

The master of Pemberley stared in shock. Elizabeth might refuse him? Surely not. He was rich, handsome, intelligent and incredibly eligible. But then, she had made it entirely clear she would not have accepted Mr. Collins, who was also most acceptable as a suitor. And surely her father knew her better than he did.

“I do not know,” he admitted weakly.

“Then I suggest you tread softly, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet replied, melancholy giving way to amusement.