Page 15 of Missing
"You do not know how glad I am to see you well, dear Father," Georgiana said, as she embraced George Darcy affectionately. He was feeling much better, and the doctor had permitted him to leave his bedchamber. A severe cold, together with his other ailments, had left him weak and weary.
Mr. Darcy was in his spacious library, seated on a sofa beside his daughter, reading to her the latest work of their favourite author. He adored Georgiana, cherished her company, and indulged her in every possible way.
"Now that I am stronger, I intend to spend more time with you, my dear and beloved child. But tell me, what did you think of this chapter? I must confess myself surprised."
"So am I, Father. I believed Captain Owen to be a ruthless pirate, and I never imagined he was, in truth, an undercover officer of His Majesty."
"Appearances are often deceiving, daughter. That is why one must not trust anyone blindly, save only the closest family."
As her father spoke, Georgiana thought of his godson and wondered whether he might show one face to Mr. Darcy and another to herself.
She longed to tell her father how uneasy George Wickham's presence made her, yet she could not.
She had considered confiding in Richard, but she knew her cousin would immediately confront Wickham, and she feared provoking a quarrel.
"Good morning, dear godfather. You cannot imagine how happy I am to see you so much improved, and no longer confined to your bedchamber," said George Wickham as he entered the library.
"My dear George, how glad I am to see you. I have missed our conversations," replied Mr. Darcy warmly.
Georgiana greeted Mr. Wickham as well, though far less effusively than her father.
She preferred to keep her distance from him, for she disliked his caresses on her hands or face, and even less how he looked and spoke to her, as though with some improper intention.
She had always regarded her father's godson with fondness, but only as one might regard a relative—and nothing more.
As always, Wickham employed all his charm to please his godfather with false expressions of concern. In truth, during Mr. Darcy's illness, he had not once taken the trouble to visit or to keep him company.
"Godfather, across from the residence where I live, there is a small church, and I swear that not a day passed without my going there to pray for your health and speedy recovery."
"Thank you, George. I am certain the Almighty must listen to you, for you are the son of an angel. Good and selfless people like your mother, when they die, become angels ever close to Our Lord."
"And you, Georgiana, how have you been? I heard Fitzwilliam was obliged to travel and will be out of London for several weeks.
If you should wish for someone to accompany you on a walk in the park, you need only ask.
I should be most pleased to spend time with you.
" He thought he ought to seize the opportunity to approach that insipid girl while Richard was away.
"Thank you, George, but the weather has been cold, and I have not felt well. Besides, I have a cough, and I prefer to spend time with my father," Georgiana replied, seeking to avoid such encounters. She knew her father would not press her if he believed her unwell.
"Quite right, my dear godson. If my daughter is not well, she must avoid the cold," said Mr. Darcy.
"Of course, Godfather," Wickham answered, though inwardly displeased. It never occurred to him that such a plain and foolish girl as Georgiana Darcy might truly be indifferent to a handsome gentleman like himself.
Mr. Darcy and his godson soon began to converse on politics, the economy, and family friends, so Georgiana excused herself, saying she must study, and retired with Mrs. Annesley to her sitting-room, where Wickham could not intrude.
"How are you, my dear godson?" Mr. Darcy asked with genuine interest.
"My life is much the same, Godfather. I lent money to a good friend in distress, and he has not repaid me.
Much of my income is invested in interest funds, and I shall not have access to it for at least two more months.
Thus, I fear I shall have difficulty paying the rent of my lodgings this month and the next.
" He spoke with feigned sorrow, hoping to move Mr. Darcy.
In truth, he had lost what little money he possessed but three nights earlier at cards.
"George, you must learn to say no. You cannot always relieve the troubles of others. It does not surprise me, for you always place others above yourself, as your mother once did. But do not distress yourself; wait here, and I shall provide you with what you require."
"No, godfather, it is not necessary—"
"Indeed, it is. You are my godson, and I promised your excellent mother that I would never abandon you."
"Godfather, I do not know when I shall be able to repay you. You are ever so generous—"
"Pay me when you can, and if you cannot, I do not mind." With that, Mr. Darcy went to his study to write a banknote.
Mr. Wickham remained in the elegant library, smiling. He knew well how to obtain what he wanted, and he was certain Mr. Darcy would give him more than he had asked for. The money would last him two or three months, but he was tired of living so precariously.
He must marry Georgiana as soon as possible. Once she became his wife, he would gain thirty thousand pounds. And the greater prize would come with George Darcy's death: he would inherit the whole fortune and become master of Pemberley.
As he waited for his godfather's return, he allowed his greedy eyes to wander about the library. Suddenly, something caught his attention. On one wall hung the portraits of Eustace and his son, George Darcy.
Father and son were almost identical. Wickham had seen those portraits many times, yet now he observed them differently. He recalled at once the man who had interrupted his conversation with the lovely Elizabeth Bennet.
'Could this Dalton be the grandson of one of old Eustace's mistresses?' Wickham thought, unable to keep from laughing.