Page 37 of Companions of Their Youth (Pride and Prejudice “What if?” Variations #9)

At last, the matter was settled, and it was agreed that Georgiana would be brought to the Bennet’s home that afternoon. Mr. Bennet stood. “Will you stay for breakfast?”

They did, and over the meal, Mr. Bennet explained the situation to the family. Lydia, to everyone’s surprise, was most serious.

“I think it is a good idea,” she said, biting her toast. “I was selfish and spoiled before Papa put rules in place. I was not happy then—not really. I am now.”

Elizabeth met Darcy’s eyes across the table. He gave her a faint, grateful smile.

∞∞∞

Two hours later, Elizabeth stood at the window of the nursery, arms crossed and brow furrowed as she considered the layout of the room.

The chamber was small but bright, its single bed already stripped in preparation.

Lydia’s things were in the process of being moved down the stairs to Kitty’s bedroom, and Kitty was still giddy at the idea of having her sister back as a roommate.

“I shall like having company again,” Kitty said cheerfully as she carried a folded nightgown. “I do not care for sleeping alone—every creak makes me jump.”

Elizabeth managed a smile. “Let us hope Miss Darcy does not creak.”

Lydia trailed behind, slower and more contemplative than usual. “Does this mean I am out, now that I am no longer sleeping in the nursery?” she asked as they passed Mr. Bennet on the stairwell.

He looked up from the stack of educational books he was sorting and gave her a warm, amused glance. “If you are a good girl and a good example to Miss Darcy, then yes—you may come out in the spring.”

Lydia lit up like a candle. “Truly?”

“Truly. But mind you, ‘a good girl’ means more than remembering your curtsies.”

Elizabeth watched her sister skip ahead with a pang of both amusement and worry. She turned to her father. “Do you think it wise to have them in lessons alone together? There is no longer a governess—what if Georgiana lashes out… physically?”

“I am afraid there is not enough time to hire someone from London,” Mr. Bennet said, his brow furrowing. “I cannot think of anyone in Meryton or the neighboring villages that would have sufficient training to handle a position like this.”

Before Mr. Bennet could reply, Jane entered, a thoughtful expression on her face. “What about Mrs. Odber?”

Mr. Bennet blinked. “The parson’s wife?”

Jane nodded. “She can be quite firm, but she is always fair. And she has raised a houseful of her own children, with all of them turning out respectable.”

“She also helps at the orphanage and teaches at the tenants’ school when needed,” Elizabeth added.

“Very well, let us send for her.”

By late morning, Mrs. Odber arrived—broad-shouldered, clear-eyed, and perfectly self-possessed in her matron’s cap and neatly mended gloves. She listened intently to Mr. Bennet’s explanation, her expression giving little away as he described Miss Darcy’s misbehavior and the temporary arrangement.

“I will need a list of household expectations and existing rules,” she said crisply. “And I will not tolerate interference in discipline. If you ask me to do this, I do it thoroughly.”

“We would expect nothing less,” Mr. Bennet replied with a polite bow. “You will have full authority in the schoolroom and nursery wing. Any physical discipline, however, will need authorization from myself.”

A generous wage was negotiated, along with her hours—from after breakfast until the hour before dinner. It was understood this would last no longer than three weeks. Mrs. Odber nodded once, then left to prepare her own household for the temporary change.

The rest of the day was spent in a flurry of movement.

Lydia’s belongings were carefully packed and carried down the hall.

Stephens assisted with the heavier furniture—bedframes, trunks, even a small writing desk.

He worked good-naturedly with Kitty and Lydia at his heels, offering dry, teasing remarks as they fetched linens and arranged drawers.

Mrs. Bennet fluttered from room to room, her nerves strained by the upheaval. “She is so wealthy,” she kept saying, wringing her hands. “What if she expects everything to be gilded? How can we be of use to her?”

“She will expect what we give her,” Mr. Bennet said calmly, pausing long enough to tuck a loose wisp of hair behind his wife’s ear. “And if she does not like it, she may write a letter of complaint to His Majesty.”

Mrs. Bennet sniffed, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “Do not jest, Mr. Bennet. This is a great responsibility.”

“So it is. And we shall handle it with grace.” He turned to Elizabeth. “She must not be permitted to mistake kindness for indulgence. When she is good, she should be rewarded. But if she shouts or pouts or sulks—no one reacts. No appeasing tantrums.”

Elizabeth nodded solemnly. “And if she attempts anything dangerous—running away, damaging things—?”

“I am to be summoned immediately,” her father said. “Stephens will also be close at hand.”

The preparations were nearly complete by the time the sun began to set. The nursery fire was lit, the bedding freshly turned down, and an air of quiet expectancy hung over the house. Elizabeth lingered by the window as twilight settled, watching for the carriage.

Everything was in readiness. Whether or not Miss Darcy was, only time would tell.

∞∞∞

Darcy returned to Netherfield with a tight jaw and heavier step than he had left with.

The house was quiet, unusually so. After speaking with the butler, they learned Georgiana had not emerged from her room all morning.

A request for a breakfast tray had come around noon, which was delivered without incident.

“She is likely feeling triumphant,” Darcy muttered as they retreated to the billiard room. “She believes she has won.”

Fitzwilliam snorted. “Let her. We need the silence more than we need to correct every wrong assumption.”

The hours passed slowly, punctuated by the dull click of billiard balls and the occasional muttered remark. It was nearly four o’clock before they climbed the stairs to Georgiana’s chamber. Darcy opened the door without knocking, Fitzwilliam behind him. They both stopped short at the sight.

It was carnage.

Several gowns were strewn across the room, crumpled and stained. And in the corner—Darcy flushed scarlet and looked away—were discarded rags, smeared dark red.

Georgiana stood beside the window, her arms crossed smugly. “You took your time,” she said sweetly.

Richard muttered an oath under his breath. Darcy cleared his throat.

“You have one hour to pack. Anything not placed in your trunk will be left behind.”

Her eyes widened. “Finally! Are we going to Town or to Pemberley?”

“We are not discussing that now. You have one hour.”

She tossed her hair, unimpressed. “You will replace anything I leave behind.”

“No,” Darcy said sharply. “I will not.”

True to his word, he returned an hour later, only to find the room in much the same state as before. Clearly Georgiana did not think him serious in his threat. He signaled to the footmen. They entered grimly, lifted the half-filled trunk, and carried it out.

Georgiana giggled and followed. “Such strong arms,” she simpered at one of the servants, trailing a finger along his shoulder. Darcy grabbed her arm—not hard, but firm enough—and pulled her to his side.

She pouted. “Jealous, Brother?”

He did not answer.

As they descended the staircase, Miss Bingley appeared from the drawing room. Her face lit up. “Mr. Darcy! Miss Darcy! Are you departing already?”

Georgiana lifted her chin. “Yes, we are returning to London. It is far too provincial here.”

Miss Bingley paled. “But you have only just arrived! Surely you will not abandon us—”

Darcy interrupted her. “Miss Darcy is going to stay with a trusted family for a time. Colonel Fitzwilliam and I will return later this evening.”

“But—who—?” Miss Bingley began, but the door was already closing behind him.

The ride was quiet at first, until Georgiana finally burst out, “I suppose I must return to that dreadful school. If you are sending me there, I shall run away again, you know I will.”

“You are not returning to school,” Darcy said evenly. “You are not returning to Town, nor to Pemberley.”

“Then where?”

“To the home of a family near here. There are daughters about your age. You are going because of your conduct.”

She blinked. Then her face contorted. “You are sending me to peasants? Commoners? Do they even have titles?”

“They are respectable,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, biting off the word.

“This is a joke. This must be a joke.” She looked wildly from one man to the other.

No one replied.

“Who are these people?” she demanded at last. “Are they titled? Are they tenants of ours?”

Darcy exhaled. “They are the Bennet family of Longbourn.”

Her shriek of laughter rang through the carriage. “You must be joking—Caroline wrote to me of them and their atrocious behaviors.”

Darcy remained silent.

Fitzwilliam added, “This is no jest, Georgie. You are to remain with them until your behavior improves.”

Georgiana crossed her arms. “You cannot be serious.”

Neither man responded.

When the carriage rolled to a stop before the modest but well-kept home of Longbourn, she stared at it in outrage. “You would leave me here? At this hovel? Among country nobodies? Do you even know what people will say?”

Darcy turned to her. “What they would say if we permitted you to continue in this behavior would be worse.”

They stepped from the carriage into the cool twilight. The Bennet footman opened the door with a quiet, “Welcome, gentlemen.”

Inside, introductions were brief. Georgiana glared at Elizabeth, then Mr. Bennet, then Elizabeth again.

“This is preposterous,” she said flatly. “You made your point. Now let us go.”

Darcy said nothing.

“Brother?” Her voice trembled.

“We will return in a few days to check on your progress,” he said stiffly.

“Cousin?” she turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Fitzwilliam inclined his head. “You will be in good hands.”

“No!” Her composure shattered. “I promise I will behave. I will be good. Please, do not leave me here!”

Darcy’s throat tightened. Her eyes were wet, her lip trembling, and for the briefest second, he hesitated.

Elizabeth stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Georgiana’s shoulder. “You will not be alone. You will be safe.”

Georgiana threw herself on the dias and sobbed dramatically.

“Go,” Mr. Bennet said quietly to the men. “She is in our care now.”

Darcy forced himself to turn. The weight in his chest was almost unbearable as he walked towards the front door. “Brother!” he heard her shriek, voice heavy with tears.

Darcy’s heart clenched. His footsteps faltered—but Elizabeth stood behind him, calm and composed.

“We will care for her,” she said softly.

Colonel Fitzwilliam touched his arm. “Come.”

Darcy gave one last look over his shoulder. Georgiana had sunk to the floor, weeping bitterly.

Then he turned, jaw tight, and stepped outside.