Page 48 of Hidden Desires
THE JOURNEY TO NETHERFIELD passed in silence, with Georgiana lost in thought and Darcy choosing not to intrude.
As the carriage turned onto the main road and gathered speed, the steady rhythm of the horses’ hooves and the gentle sway of the cabin lulled him into reflection.
His thoughts turned once more to Miss Elizabeth.
Though their acquaintance was brief, Miss Elizabeth’s evident concern and the sincerity of her friendship took him by surprise.
In his experience, women who offered their affection showed little regard for Georgiana herself; they cared more for the opportunity to gain his notice.
He had lost count of the times his sister’s heart was broken when they cast her aside in pursuit of wealth and status.
Caroline Bingley was a perfect example, with one significant difference.
Most concealed their ambition behind a veil of courtesy, but Miss Bingley made no such effort.
Her words were civil, her manner gracious, yet her tone and bearing toward Georgiana remained condescending, as though his sister ought to be grateful for the attention.
Miss Elizabeth, by contrast, offered genuine affection and unguarded friendship, which Georgiana welcomed with equal warmth. The change it produced was remarkable. Had he known such a transformation was possible, he would not have hesitated to answer Bingley’s request for help.
He recalled their conversation in the garden. She had been easy to talk with, her humor pleasant and unassuming. Her comments about Georgiana rang true, and her expressions of affection had not struck him as false.
Darcy now looked forward to returning to Longbourn, knowing Miss Elizabeth would be there to receive them.
Her smile warmed his heart and brightened his day, something Miss Bingley, with her open disdain for the Bennets, could never hope to do.
On the contrary, her clumsy efforts to ingratiate herself produced the opposite effect.
Beside him, Georgiana shuddered. “I saw him.”
Her words pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to her, trying to collect himself. “Forgive me, my mind was elsewhere. Who did you see?”
“Him,” she said, her voice unsteady as tears slid down her cheeks. “Mr. Wickham. He was talking to Mary, right there in the middle of the road.”
Darcy wrapped his arms around her and drew her close while she shook with sobs. Despite the months he had spent forcing his anger down, it rose within him, hot, forceful, and blinding.
“Are you certain?” he asked, his voice low, his jaw tight. The thought that the man who had harmed his sister and shattered the only family he had left now walked the streets of Meryton without consequence ignited a fire in his chest.
“Could it have been someone else? Someone with a similar face? In your shock, is it possible you mistook the man Mary was speaking to for Wickham?”
“No.” She shook her head. “It was him. I know it was. I could never forget that cruel, arrogant face.”
She pulled away and lifted her tear-filled eyes to meet his. “Please believe me,” she said. “Mr. Wickham is the man I saw.”
“Of course I believe you,” he said, keeping his voice calm despite the heat rising in his chest. “You are my sister. I trust you without question.”
Georgiana laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes. He tightened his grip on her shoulders to give her a sense of security and waited for her to fall asleep.
“When I saw him in that alley,” she said, her voice low, “I could not move. All I could think about were the vile things he said when he found out you had come home early, and I had changed my mind about eloping.”
“What did he say that frightened you so much? Please, tell me. Let me help. You have kept this from me for so long, and it has changed you. Seeing you suffer and knowing you would not let me help keeps me awake at night. You need to leave this behind, but until I understand what happened, I can do nothing.”
She pressed her head against his chest, as if his arms alone could shield her from the terrors closing in. Her sobs returned, growing until her chest heaved and she gasped for the breaths her despair had stolen.
He held her close, frustrated by his inability to calm her. At last, her sobs eased, her breathing slowed, and she began to speak again. However, her voice remained unsteady, her eyes fixed on the floor.
Darcy listened without moving, afraid her fear might return and silence her. As she spoke, his hands became fists, clenched with such force they ached. Rage built within him until his vision swam red.
By the end of her tale, a resolute calm had settled over him. As the carriage came to a stop at Netherfield, he knew what he needed to do. After helping Georgiana down, he led her inside and sent for the housekeeper, instructing her to care for his sister and see to her comfort.
With Georgiana safe, he walked to the yard, where a groom was untying his mount to turn it into the paddock.
“I need to return to Longbourn,” he told the driver, who nodded and waved him into the carriage.
“Darcy,” Bingley called from the manor entrance, “where are you going? Have you forgotten the Bennets are expected for supper?”
“I have not,” he replied, leaning through the carriage window, “but something has come up that Bennet and I must resolve at once. I will ask him to send his apologies. Perhaps you can invite them again on a more convenient day.”
He gave the driver instructions to make haste and settled into his seat. As the carriage pulled away, he caught a glimpse of Bingley still standing at the top of the steps, his expression unreadable. Darcy knew his friend would wonder at the sudden departure, but there was no time to explain.
* * *
Bennet looked up from his reading to see Darcy leaping from the carriage before it stopped, the coats of the horses glistening. Marking his page, he rose at once and hurried from the library, cutting through the house to meet him.
“I am surprised you returned so soon,” he said, eyeing the carriage. “Did Georgiana forget something? Let me call Elizabeth; she may know where it is.”
“Wait.” Darcy placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, stopping him before he could summon his daughter.
Bennet turned, his brow furrowed and his mouth slightly open, as though searching for the proper question.
“Georgiana told me the reasons for her collapse, which is what brought me back. I think it better we speak in private, where we will not be overheard.”
Mr. Bennet stepped aside and motioned Darcy toward the house, then followed him through the door. Pointing toward the open library, he said, “Wait for me; I am going to make certain we are not disturbed.”
At the threshold, he paused. “You know where the brandy is. Pour me one as well, if you would be so kind.”
Darcy entered the library and selected two glasses, pouring a generous portion into each.
He had just seated himself when Bennet returned.
After closing and bolting the door, Bennet took his place at the desk and looked at Darcy without speaking, his eyes narrowed and his mouth drawn in a straight line.
Darcy tipped his head and drank. Setting the glass on the desk, he drew a deep breath and held it, weighing the painful conversation he was about to begin with a man he counted as a friend. Bracing himself for what he had hoped to avoid, he began.
“Georgiana would not tell me what had happened until we were nearly at Netherfield. What she said filled me with fear for what may now threaten you and your daughter, Miss Mary.”
Bennet leaned forward and took a sip from his glass, then gave a brief wave of his hand, inviting Darcy to continue.
“None of what happened was Miss Elizabeth’s fault. Georgiana enjoyed her time in Meryton more than she expected. The incident occurred as they were preparing to return to Longbourn.
“Miss Elizabeth had agreed to her youngest sister’s request to visit some friends and allowed them to go ahead, trusting Miss Mary to act as their chaperone. When they did not return, she and Georgiana set out to find them and discovered Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia alone. Miss Mary had left them.”
He paused, his voice tightening.
“It was when they found her that Georgiana saw the man who had broken her heart and frightened her with threats against both of us.”
“That must have come as a shock,” Bennet said. “Did this fellow see your sister as well?”
“Georgiana thinks not,” Darcy replied with a shrug, “but she cannot be sure.”
“I hope for her sake he did not,” Bennet said, “but why return tonight? Could this not have waited until morning, after Miss Darcy had rested?”
“If there had been any other way to warn you, I would have taken it and spared Georgiana the humiliation of knowing her shame must now be shared.”
“I promise you, nothing from this conversation will leave this room.”
“Thank you,” Darcy said. “Your kindness is one of the reasons I consider you a friend.”
He set his glass aside. “But that is not why I returned. The man in question was talking to Miss Mary, and from what my sister observed, they appeared quite at ease with each other.
“The horror she felt was not only because she saw him again, but because she feared your daughter might suffer the same indignity he once inflicted on her.”
“Who is this man?” Bennet asked, concern shaping his tone. “And what might Mary expect from him?”
“His name is George Wickham, and according to Georgiana, he now serves as an officer in the regiment encamped at Meryton.
“She has known him all her life. He was my father’s godson and the son of his former estate manager. Poor decisions and a life of indulgence left him in financial difficulty, and he saw in my sister a convenient solution. He led her to believe he loved her, something he managed without difficulty.