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Still shaken after discovering the dreadful truth, Darcy called for his housekeeper, ordering two rooms to be prepared in the servants’ quarters, with appropriate accommodation for a young mother and an infant who were both ill.

“I trust you to do everything necessary in this difficult situation, with no concern for expense,” Darcy uttered, and the good housekeeper nodded. “The family is in a dire situation, and I take full responsibility for them.”

“Of course, sir. Do you think a wet nurse will be needed?”

“A wet nurse? Yes, probably. I know little about these matters, so I trust your decision. Porter will assist you with anything you need.”

“Very well, sir,” the housekeeper said before she left.

Darcy’s mind was still in a perturbed state, and he had little control over it. There was someone else he must inform before the family moved in, someone who would be deeply hurt. He invited Georgiana to the library, struggling to prepare for what was sure to be a difficult, painful conversation.

“Brother, what has happened? The entire household is agitated,” his sister asked with concern.

“Please take a seat, my dear. Yes, something has happened, and I do not know how to tell you as I fear you will be hurt by it.”

“How to tell me? What do you mean? Just tell me, Brother! It hurts me more to not know!”

“Dearest, I have given orders to move a Mrs Crawford, her two daughters, and her grandson into the house — into the servants’ quarters. One of the daughters is only sixteen and has just given birth to a child. She and the infant are very ill.”

“Oh…” Georgiana replied, obviously surprised. “That is a wonderful gesture and so generous of you, Brother. But why did you assume I would be hurt by your decision? Surely you did not believe I would oppose it?”

“No, not at all. I know your kind heart would help anyone in need. The problem is… The young mother is… Apparently the father of the infant is Wickham,” he said in a low voice, watching his sister carefully.

Georgiana seemed to be holding her breath, her eyes wide open, staring at him. Her face was white as if all the blood had been drained from it.

“Are you sure?” she whispered.

“As sure as I can be. Apparently, they are related to Mrs Martha Rollins, from Lambton. Do you remember her?”

“Of course!”

“Mrs Crawford and her daughters visited her last April. They travelled by post part of the way but met Wickham on the road, and he conveyed them to their destination in his carriage, then brought them back to London a month later. Did you know Wickham was in Derbyshire last April?”

“Yes…I did not meet him, but Mrs Younge mentioned it to me. She said he would like to see me but would not dare to come to Pemberley because of you.”

“You did not tell me.”

“I did not want to upset you. Please forgive me! I never imagined that things would turn out as they did — that I would meet George in Ramsgate and…”

“Dearest, please do not cry,” Darcy said gently, pained by her sorrow. “There is no need to apologise. As you said, you could not guess his future actions.”

“I should have been more prudent, Brother.”

“So should I have been. I was wrong in selecting Mrs Younge as your companion, and I was wrong in not punishing Wickham. There is something else you should know. Wickham has been in Hertfordshire since last November. He joined a militia regiment stationed in Meryton.”

“Why did you not tell me?” she whispered with apparent torment.

“I did not want to upset you,” he replied, smiling tenderly. “And I was wrong. I left Hertfordshire, allowing Wickham the liberty to spread lies about me, to insinuate himself with innocent and honourable people in Meryton, and probably to take advantage of them.”

“You always take the blame upon yourself, Brother, even when it does not belong there.”

“You are too kind and therefore blind to my flaws, dearest. I have been wrong many times and in many ways, and I did not even realise it until I was forced to look in the mirror of my soul and see the truth. I was forced to face my errors and to admit them. And now I am trying to make amends wherever possible.”

“That mirror must have been broken, Brother. You are truly the best of men — everybody who knows you admits that.”

“Not quite everybody.” He smiled bitterly.

“What do you mean? Who is so foolish as to not see the obvious, Brother?”

“Let us not speak of that now, dearest. Porter will return with the family soon, and I want to talk to Mrs Crawford as soon as they are settled. Would you like to join the conversation? I imagine it might be painful, but you are free to decide.”

“Yes, I would like to hear what Mrs Crawford has to say. I only wish to add one more thing. People who do not see your worthiness are not worth your attention.”

“Sometimes, dearest, it is worth waiting for someone who has the wisdom to see you in a different light from others and who dares to reveal your faults. This is something I have only recently learnt.”

“I do not understand your meaning, Brother, but I shall not insist on you telling me more than you want to.”

“There is nothing more to tell at this moment, Georgiana. When there is, I promise you will be the first to know.”

The discussion, as difficult as it had been, had gone better than Darcy had expected. He was pleased to note Georgiana’s obvious growth in judgment and her self-confidence in expressing her opinion. He wondered whether his sister and Elizabeth would enjoy each other’s company. He believed so, and surely Georgiana would benefit from Elizabeth’s friendship. If Bingley and Miss Bennet were reunited, he would cross paths with Elizabeth rather often. She might even become friends with Georgiana — a prospect equally frightening and desirable.

Since the day of his failed proposal, Darcy had refused to ponder his intentions in regard to Elizabeth. His wishes meant nothing since they were so different from hers. Was he still angry with her? Was he still carrying a grudge against her for refusing him? No; he was certain that was not the case. Not from the moment they had met to discuss the letter. At that time, he had also noticed a slight change in her behaviour towards him, but he had lost all confidence in judging her and assuming anything.

He quickly put aside such speculations since they could bring him nothing but pain and disappointment. If he and Elizabeth were to be in each other’s company ever again, the best he could hope for was a polite friendship.

***

In the afternoon, the family — Mrs Crawford, her thirteen-year-old daughter Libby, her sixteen-year-old daughter Janey, and the latter’s son of two months old — arrived, and Dr Taylor called to examine the mother and child.

“I was quite surprised to hear you had brought them here, Mr Darcy,” Dr Taylor said later over a glass of brandy. “It was a generous gesture and certainly increased their chances of survival. May I ask whether you were previously acquainted with them?”

“No, I was not. However, their situation was caused by one of my acquaintances, and I could not be indifferent to their ordeal.”

“You are exceedingly generous, Mr Darcy. Very few gentlemen of your standing would bring sick strangers under their roof.”

“There were enough free rooms here. Besides, as I said, I feel responsible for them. Will they survive?”

“The mother is very young and probably had to bear a complicated birth. The child is weak. I have not much hope that he will survive.”

“I trust you will do everything you can to save them, Doctor.”

“I certainly shall, sir, but I suggest you pray, as a miracle is required.”

***

A whole week passed before Janey and her son showed the first signs of improvement. The mother became well enough to feed her baby, and with some help from a wet nurse, the child grew stronger too. Dr Taylor was still reluctant to proclaim good news, but the changes for the better were obvious. Georgiana visited them daily, if only briefly, while Mrs Crawford requested that she and Libby be allowed to work in the kitchen to repay the master’s kindness.

Darcy’s main concern was finding the appropriate punishment for Wickham. He confided in Colonel Fitzwilliam, who insisted upon throwing the scoundrel in prison immediately, regardless of the scandal that might arise.

Bingley had more pleasant ways of employing his time, as he called on Miss Bennet and the Gardiners every other day and even dined there once.

“Darcy, there is something important I must tell you,” Bingley said one day. “Jane…I mean Miss Bennet insists I should deliver the message immediately.”

“What message, Bingley?”

“This one,” his friend replied, handing him a letter.

“What is this?” Darcy enquired, alarmed by a strange feeling.

“A letter, of course. From Miss Elizabeth — for you. She put it inside a letter for Jane, and I was asked to deliver it. Do not worry, Mr and Mrs Gardiner know about it, and they have no objections to you receiving it.”

Darcy took the piece of paper carefully, as if it might burn him. He held it a moment, staring at it. Elizabeth had written to him? Why would she do that after almost a fortnight? The gesture was not entirely proper, and her uncle and aunt were entitled to open and read it. What could be in it that was worth taking the risk?

“Well? Are you not going to read it? If you wish to reply, I could take your answer to Gracechurch Street tomorrow.”

“Are you visiting again? So often?”

“Yes… Why would I not since they assured me I was welcome? Today I invited Miss Bennet for a stroll in the park. There is a small but lovely one close to them.”

“I cannot fault your reasoning, Bingley.”

“Darcy, I was thinking…Miss Elizabeth will arrive in London in four days, and they will both return to Longbourn in about a week. I believe I shall escort them home…and I would like to reopen Netherfield.” Bingley spoke with some hesitation, watching Darcy as if waiting for his approval.

“I trust you will make the right decision, Bingley, for the present and for the future.”

“Are you not opposed to the idea?”

“I have no right and no reason to oppose it.”

“Excellent…I am glad to hear it. Now read your letter. There cannot be anything important or private in it. In fact, I wonder why Miss Elizabeth would write to you at all since she does not like you much.”

Annoyed by his friend’s innocent remarks, Darcy opened the letter. His eyes ran over it, curious and anxious at the same time.

Mr Darcy,

My sister Jane’s recent letters, filled with joy and happiness, give me reason to believe I owe you gratitude and apologies, and until I have the chance to express them in person, I have taken the liberty of writing them down. They are genuine and heartfelt, and I pray you will accept them.

Many things need to be discussed and clarified on my part, but I would not dare presume you wish to, nor abuse your time. I would be thankful for the opportunity for one more conversation, but I certainly understand if you find it inappropriate. The decision is entirely yours.

E. Bennet

Darcy folded the letter and placed it in his pocket. It was easy to understand its contents: Elizabeth had discovered that he had reunited Bingley with her sister and wished to make amends for her harsh accusations. However, he did not desire her gratitude, nor her good opinion altered by her sister’s happiness. His will and reason told him to avoid the danger of any private conversation with Elizabeth. The past should remain behind them and the dreadful failed proposal buried deep.

He glanced at the letter again, then said, “Please ask Miss Bennet to inform Miss Elizabeth that I shall be delighted to meet her again when she arrives in London. As we discussed, I shall call with my cousin Richard.”

“Good. And you should know that I plan to host a dinner party the day after Miss Elizabeth’s arrival. Her family will all attend, and hopefully you, Georgiana, Mrs Annesley, and the colonel.”

“I see. Well, I… That is five days from now… I am not certain of my plans yet, but I shall speak to Georgiana and Richard.”

“Come, Darcy, I am counting on your presence! I am sure Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth will be delighted to meet your sister. My sisters will probably not attend. I still have to decide whether I shall invite them or not, considering their outrageous betrayal.”

“If you insist, we cannot refuse you, Bingley,” Darcy finally agreed. He felt still anxious and troubled, but Bingley was so overjoyed that he hardly noticed anything unrelated to Miss Bennet.

After his friend left, Darcy pulled out the letter and read it again and again, each time discovering new meanings behind the words. In the end, he concluded that if Elizabeth wanted to speak to him, he would certainly not suspend any pleasure of hers.