38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

He stood, staring at the spot she had just occupied, swallowing back the scream that fought for utterance. He longed to call out to her, but he could not wake the rest of the household or betray her privacy. Finally, he slunk back into the library and tumbled into his chair. He swallowed his remaining brandy, savoring the fiery burn down the back of his throat.

The flickering fireplace mesmerized him. Focusing on the dancing flames permitting him respite, for that moment forget everything around him. Tick, tick, tick. The mantle clock added its voice, trying to soothe its master. For a moment it helped, but only a moment.

Fabric swished and small feet pattered on the carpet. His chest swelled, and he whipped around to see…Georgiana. A strangled sound escaped his lips though he immediately regretted it and he crumpled back into his chair.

Dear girl that she was, she said nothing but rushed to his side and laid her arm over his shoulders. She pressed his head into her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist. They rocked together for several long breaths until his composure returned.

"She refused you?"

He nodded, his jaw so tense he could hardly speak. "Did you hear?" he whispered in a voice he barely recognized as his own.

She rested her chin on top of his head. "I did."

"What can I do? How can I make her see?" He clutched her tighter, her warmth penetrating the coldness that enveloped him.

"I do not know. She has to make peace with her own demons."

"How did you do it?"

Georgiana sighed and perched beside him on the arm of the chair . "It was not easy. I think it came down to forgiving…him…myself…and knowing you forgave me helped me find the strength to do it."

"But she knows I—" He twisted his neck to look up at her.

"I do not think it is your forgiveness she needs." She shook her head, frowning.

"Whose then? I will—"

She squeezed his arm. "No, you cannot. This is something she has to do herself. Or not. But once she has, then perhaps she will be able accept you, if you are willing to wait."

"What choice have I?" His words came out as more of a croak than speech.

"I will try to speak to her. I make you no promises. She has to face this on her own terms." She smoothed sweat-plastered hair back from his forehead.

"She is so stubborn!"

"Like a certain man I know." She laughed quietly and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. As silently as she had come, she left him to face his own demons.

Saturday morning dawned bright and cold promising a sparkling day for a wedding. Neither Lizzy nor Georgiana slept in, unable to bear the excitement of it all. Lizzy joined the bride and helped made make Georgiana ready all the while trying to distract herself from the tumult of feelings that roiled with in her. Time flew and soon they were boarding the coach that would take them to Matlock House.

Lizzy knew the bishop himself waited for them. He would conduct a simple ceremony in the parlor to join the viscount and his bride. A bishop and a ceremony in their home! Who would imagine I could be invited, much less participate, in such an event!

The ride itself was brief and soon Lizzy watched Georgiana climb out of the carriage on Richard's arm. Lizzy carefully freed her skirt from the confines of the coach as she watched her friend mount the steps into the grand house. A footman stood ready to help Elizabeth down. A tiny pang of disappointment knotted her chest when she did not see Darcy waiting for her.

The foyer was decorated in a simple but elegant way. A large flower arrangement graced the table. Matching garlands dipped over the doorways. The scent of hothouse flowers filled the air. Lizzy curtsied her way through introductions, one blurring into another and another. Instinctively her eyes sought Darcy. She found him attending a wan older man propped in a large chair. The Earl. Darcy's attitude, his expression, everything about him bespoke a man doing his duty with affection and gentleness, a man with whom few could compare.

"Good morning, Miss Bennet." Richard's deep voice jolted her from her observations.

"Good morning, sir." She smoothed her skirts and curtsied.

"You look lovely this morning." He smiled Darcy's smile and looked at her with eyes that looked too much like Darcy's. He must have stolen he expression from his cousin, maddening man!

The knife stabbing her side was the revelation she wished it was Darcy and not Richard who spoke. "Thank you. Miss Darcy has excellent taste. She herself chose this dress, and I am quite appreciative of it. My father, as I am quite sure you can imagine, has little knowledge or use for fashion." The corner of her lips twitched.

"Truly, I cannot imagine why not. But it is the lady who makes the gown, not the other way around."

Her cheeks burned, and she averted her eyes.

"I have been instructed to bring you to Georgiana. It seems the bride has become quite a bundle of nerves." Richard winked and offered his arm.

Lizzy took his arm, and he led her to a small parlor away from the main rooms. The door was shut, and an older woman paced before it. Her gown and headdress betrayed her breeding. She could be none other but the wife of a peer.

"Mother, this is Miss Bennet," Richard said softly. "Miss Bennet, Lady Matlock."

Elizabeth curtsied, deeply hoping she would not choose that moment to lose her balance and land on the floor. "A pleasure to meet you, my lady." She held her breath until she was back up and still on her feet. Darcy would have appreciated the humor of her situation. She wondered if Richard would. Somehow she did not think so.

"I am pleased you have come, Miss Bennet." Lady Matlock mopped her brow with a lacy handkerchief. "My niece seems to have fallen to a case of…well, who knows what, and she is talking of calling off the wedding. She refuses to speak to me and says you are the only one she will see. I cannot fathom why she would choose now to have a break down. It would have been far more considerate of her to have gotten it over with last night when we did not have a house full of guests to inconvenience and the Bishop…" She threw trembling hands into the air.

Richard struggled to suppress a snicker that escaped anyway.

Perhaps his sense of humor was better than she had first thought. "I will try to calm her. I am sure she is fine. Miss Darcy is a good and steady girl. I am certain this is nothing." Lizzy rapped on the door. "It is Elizabeth; may I come in?"

"Come," a strained voice wafted through the door.

Nodding at Lady Matlock and Richard, Lizzy pushed the door open and slipped inside.

Georgiana stood at the window, the curtain crushed in her fists. She did not turn when Lizzy entered.

Lizzy hurried to her side. "You look lovely this morning."

Georgiana shrugged and traced the profile of her face on the glass, the barest smudge left behind.

"What is troubling you? You have never voiced any doubts to me before." Lizzy rested her hand lightly on Georgiana's arm.

Georgiana drew a deep breath, then exhaled, fogging the window and revealing the tracing of her profile. "I do not know if I can do this." She leaned her forehead against the glass.

"You are unsure of your cousin?"

"It is not that. He is the best of men, and he has done so much to remind me of that in the last few days. He is so good to both of the girls. He treats my daughter no differently than his. How many men, especially of his rank, would do such a thing? He is the best of men." She pulled back and polished the window with the edge of the curtain.

"If he is, then why do you hesitate?" Lizzy squeezed her arm. "Did you wish for a more romantic situation?"

Georgiana coughed out a little laugh. "In our circles no one expects such a thing. I am grateful for a man that I truly like and esteem."

"In that case, I do not understand your concern."

"How can I allow him to tie himself to someone like me?" Georgiana slowly turned, a faint glisten of tears in her eyes.

Lizzy pulled a handkerchief out of her reticule and pressed it into Georgiana's hand. "Someone like you? What is there to repine in a connection to you?"

"He should be connected to a woman of virtue—" Georgiana turned back to the window, hiding her face.

"And you have none?" Lizzy felt that familiar pinch in her belly; that question she had too often wondered of herself. Why did Georgiana have to choose now to explore such delicate issues?

"What do you think?" Georgiana retreated from the window, but kept her back to Lizzy.

"I think you were forced against your will; I cannot see a loss of virtue in that." Lizzy's words were thin, and she stared at the window, not through it. She listened to Georgian's movements and breathing, finally turning to look.

"It was not all against my will." Georgiana's shoulders sank, and she leaned heavily against the back of a chair. "I am sure Anne whispered to you that I had a tendre' for him. The truth is that I did. For some time I welcomed his attentions and the way he made me feel so special. I liked his compliments and his looks at me."

Lizzy crossed three long steps to her side and extended her hand.

Georgiana pulled away, rejecting the comfort. "Does this not make me as guilty as he? Would a truly virtuous woman have permitted any of this?"

"Had he been a true gentlemen, one intending to properly court you, would any of those things have been questionable? No, they would not have. You could not have known what he had in mind." Heat rose in her face. Lizzy knew her voice was sharp, but at this moment she did not care.

Georgiana bit her lip. "I do not know, perhaps not. But I never told my brother any of this. He has no idea how I admired Mr. Wickham. I kept it all secret from him, the one who should have been privy to my nearest concerns."

"No one shares all their concerns, especially a young woman. Much less to a man as much older than you as your brother. None of that matters; nothing you allowed amounts to impropriety. That was all on his side when he violated your will." Lizzy took Georgiana's hand.

"But—"

"He attacked your body; none can deny that." She leaned in to whisper into Georgiana's ear. "Virtue is not contained in your body. It is in your heart and in your mind. Where it counts, my friend, you are a most virtuous woman."

Georgiana dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief, then stared at it, tracing the pattern embroidered on it.

"I have met enough women who might have otherwise been considered virtuous, like your cousin Miss de Bourgh, who in truth are anything but." Lizzy craned her neck to catch Georgiana's eyes.

Georgiana giggled slightly. "I suppose you have a point in that." She folded the handkerchief into a very small bundle.

Lizzy rubbed her back gently, playing a moment with a stray curl before tucking it back into the elaborate pinned structure Georgiana's maid had wrought.

With a deep breath, Georgiana turned. "I suppose you are right. If Andrew objected to me, I have no doubt I would be able tell. He, like all our Fitzwilliam men, is not one to hide his contempt. I should trust him to mean what he has said."

"Yes, my dear, you should." Lizzy straightened the neckline of Georgiana's gown and adjusted her necklace.

A loud rap at the door startled them both. "The bishop is ready, ladies, shall I tell him you are as well?" Richard called through it.

Lizzy lifted her eyebrow and cocked her head.

"We are, Richard. We shall be out in a moment," Georgiana called, straightening her shoulders and pressing the handkerchief back into Lizzy's hand.

Lizzy tucked Georgiana's hand into her arm. "Come, my virtuous friend, it is time to meet your groom."

"I will remember what you have said," Georgiana followed her to the door. "Perhaps though, you should remember what you have told me as well."

Lizzy's face grew cold, and she drew breath to speak, but Georgiana opened the door, and they were met with Darcy's and Richard's expectant faces.

"Are you ready?" Darcy whispered, taking Georgiana's arm.

Lizzy immediately saw the deep sadness and resignation in Darcy's eyes. He nodded toward her with the barest of smiles, but then focused on his sister as he led her toward the parlor.

She stood dizzy from the barrage of thoughts and feelings bombarding her. If only she could find a quiet spot, for even a moment. How could she be so close to him and maintain her carefully crafted composure when everything in her wanted to—

"Miss Bennet," Richard offered his arm. "Thank you. I do not know what you said to her, but you seem to be the font of wisdom Darcy claims you to be. She has been through enough; truthfully, they both have. This will be good for the both of them. And the girls."

She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, glad for the support. Her knees wobbled beneath her skirts. "I can see that. The viscount seems to be just one among a family of true gentlemen."

"Thank you, Miss Bennet. I feared that perhaps you might consider me more of a mule, or a donkey perhaps." He winked, his eyes twinkling.

Darcy had shared that with him? Her cheeks and ears burned so hot, surely Richard must have been able to feel it himself. "No, indeed, I could not imagine such a creature in epaulets."

Richard snorted, managing to compose himself just in time for them to make their entrance.

The ceremony took very little time. It was the first ceremony Lizzy had attended that was not in a proper church sanctuary. Though she thought that perhaps some of her acquaintances in Meryton might object to the location of the ceremony, there was nothing profane or vulgar about it. The look in Andrew's eyes when he repeated his vows arrested her. Theirs was not a marriage of romantic love, but it was possible that he had come to love Georgiana, nonetheless. She struggled to hold back the tears that burned her eyes and blurred her vision. She would not spoil their joy with her tears, for they were not tears of joy but of her own desolation.

The wedding breakfast was held in the dining room just a handful of steps from the ceremony. Andrew, Richard and Darcy carefully carried the earl to the dining room and settled him into another chair so he was present with them for that part of the celebration as well. Watching their care of the ailing elder Matlock reminded her painfully of Darcy's tender way with her father. The pain in her chest made her certain there must be a knife there cutting out her heart.

The meal was quietly elegant, and enjoyed by all. Almost all. Lizzy hung back and watched, hesitant to intrude on the family. Somehow they did not quite fit the image of a high society family who had barely escaped a social tragedy. They were kind and supportive and, could it be, even forgiving when it was one of their own who had been hurt. The harsh judgments she had heard at Rosings were not present, instead the room sang with an undercurrent of hope and possibilities.

She rejoiced with them, but her own heart could not join with them. When the festivities were winding down, she slipped away.

Hours later, Darcy arrived back at his town house, worn and empty. He had seen his sister and her husband off for their wedding trip, a brief visit to Brighton. Lord Matlock was tucked back safely in his bed, a look of peace in his eyes that they had not seen before. Right before he had left, he had shared a particularly fine brandy with Richard to celebrate the end of the threat to their family.

Now, climbing up the front steps to his own home, Darcy felt cold and tired. And alone. The twins and their nursery maid were upstairs and would be staying with him until their parents returned. He briefly considered visiting the nursery but quickly dismissed the thought. It would only remind him of Georgiana and how she would be leaving him soon. Perhaps Elizabeth had not yet retreated to her room.

He checked the morning room, parlor, drawing room and library, only to find them all empty. Glancing down the hallway, he saw the door to Lizzy's chamber was open, sunlight streaming into the hallway from the window. Unable to restrain himself, he dashed down the hall, rehearsing what he might say. Surely he could make her see, make her change her mind. After the look he had seen on her face at the wedding, would she? Would she not? Peeking into the doorway, his heart sank. The room was empty of all evidence of inhabitance.

"She left near two hours ago, sir," a young maid said as she edged past him, her arms piled high with linens she had just stripped from the bed.

He grunted a response. The very last bit of strength in his bones faded away. Desolate, he wandered to his study and shut the door hard behind him. He fell, like a sack of old potatoes into his chair, grunting. His hand landed on a pile of letters that he knocked onto the floor. He mumbled invectives he reserved for special occasions and decided that they could very well stay where they landed for the rest of the morning. He leaned back in his chair and threw an arm over his face. "I will overcome this. I will."