His Good Opinion: A Mr. Darcy Novel (2 page)

"Was the elopement his idea or yours?" Darcy asked, though he already knew the answer.

Georgiana gnawed on her lower lip. "He suggested it. A trip to Scotland seemed so exciting, and then we could visit you in London and he could introduce me to you as his wife."

Even through her uncertainty, he could still detect a hint of schoolgirl hopes in her voice, and he somehow managed to keep his voice calm at such a repellent thought. "Does it still sound exciting?"

She shook her head, her blue eyes filled with tears. "No. I have disappointed you, have I not, Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy knelt in front of his sister and took her hands in his. "No, dearest. He has. No gentleman of quality would suggest an elopement to a young lady, not when there are family members who might be worried about her. Wickham knew I would not accept his suit if he asked in the customary manner."

Georgiana tilted her head, a quizzical frown wrinkling her brow. "Why not? I thought you were friends."

Darcy rose and turned toward the window, his hands clasped behind his back. "I have not spoken to Wickham in almost two years, and we did not part on good terms. He had come to ask for money, and I refused his request."

It did not take Georgiana long to put the pieces together. "Then you believe he is only after my fortune."

The pain in her voice brought him back to her side. Loathe as he was to injure her tender heart, he would not lie to her. Her fortune of thirty thousand pounds was undoubtedly Wickham's chief motive in wooing her. "I am afraid so." A single tear rolled down her cheek. Others soon followed, and Darcy held her close while she cried.

"No harm was done," he reassured her, his voice soft and soothing. "I will write Wickham and inform him your engagement is over, and that will be the end of it." Inwardly, he seethed with rage.
The blackguard! How I wish I could introduce him to the business end of my blade.

Georgiana soon pulled back and wiped her tears, though she could not mend the damage done to her coiffure. "I am sorry, Fitzwilliam. When Mrs. Younge introduced him as a gentleman --"

"Mrs. Younge introduced him?" Darcy interrupted. "You said earlier that you met him on the beach."

She swallowed and nodded her head. "And we did, but he was known to Mrs. Younge before that. She told me I could not attract a more worthy gentleman; that, combined with my knowledge of your relationship, was enough to recommend him to me."

Darcy pressed his lips into a thin line. He had wondered how his sister's chaperone could have allowed such a relationship to progress without notifying himself or Richard.
She was part of the plot from the beginning.
"Georgiana, I believe I need to speak with Mrs. Younge. Could you send her to me please?"

"Yes, of course." She left the room, and a minute later Mrs. Younge appeared, her hands twisting nervously in her apron.

"You asked for me, sir?"

"Mrs. Younge. Please have a seat." He waited until she had done so before speaking again. "Allow me to be frank. I am most displeased that you chose to keep Miss Darcy's attachment from her guardians."

Mrs. Younge returned Darcy's gaze without flinching. "What do you mean, sir?"

Darcy narrowed his eyes. "Do not be coy with me, madam, I have little patience for it. My sister tells me you introduced her to George Wickham and encouraged his calls. Surely her cousin and I should have been consulted in the matter."

She glared at him over crossed arms. "Aye, and what would you have done if you'd known? Ye would have turned him down flat, and him as nice a young man as ever lived. Oh, to be sure he's had his share of hard times, and who's to blame for that? You and your stingy ways." She smirked at Darcy's involuntary start. "Oh yes, he told me all about his previous dealings with you, how ye wouldn't give him the living what was promised to him and turned him out cold after he'd been such a favorite of your father. What kind of gentleman would do such a thing, I ask?"

"The same kind who will turn you off without a reference." Darcy pointed at the door, his hand shaking slightly. "You will leave here at once, madam. Do not bother to pack your things; they will be forwarded to you."

Mrs. Younge rose from her seat, her nose stuck high in the air. "As if I would want to work for the likes of you." She stalked from the room in a manner reminiscent of his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a comparison which would have amused him if his temper were not so high.

Darcy was tempted, now that he was alone, to give way to the violence of his feelings. However, there was still business to be done and he pulled paper, pen, and ink from the writing desk.

His letter to George Wickham was brief; all that was needed to end the match was his disapproval, and both men knew that. It crossed Darcy's mind briefly that Wickham might make Georgiana's folly known, but it would do him no good to be known as a debaucher of innocents. He sealed the letter and pressed his signet ring into the hot wax, a grim smile on his face when he pictured Wickham's reaction to that familiar impression.

He rang the bell and a footman soon appeared. "See to it this is delivered to George Wickham. I am afraid I do not know his direction; perhaps--"

"I know where he lives, sir."

"Do you indeed? Very well then, take it to him at once."

That unpleasant business resolved, Darcy went upstairs and knocked on Georgiana's door. "Are you ready to go down, Georgiana?"

She was dressed for dinner, and though he detected a hint of sadness in her eyes, her maid at least had tamed her blonde curls and pulled them back into a bun. "Yes, Fitzwilliam." Georgiana took his arm and they went down the stairs together.

The table was simply laid, as was their custom when they ate alone. Brother and sister took their seats, and Darcy nodded to the footmen to begin serving the first course. "Are we not going to wait for Mrs. Younge, Brother?" Georgiana asked.

Darcy did not answer until the servant had left the room. "Mrs. Younge is no longer your companion, Georgiana. You do understand why, do you not?"

Georgiana looked down at her plate. "Yes," she replied. "I am sorry, Fitzwilliam; I did not know what he was."

The guilt he heard took Darcy by surprise. "I have no doubt you were deceived most grievously, Georgiana."

She looked up and offered him a tremulous smile. "Will I be coming back to London with you?"

"I think that is the best thing to do. Richard and I can begin looking for another companion for you once we arrive."

"I would rather go home," she said, her voice wistful.

"Georgiana, there is no one at home to keep you company, and I do want you to be accustomed to Society before your debut. I am sorry; perhaps we can return to Pemberley for an extended visit before the Season starts."

Georgiana pushed the food around her plate with a fork, though none of it made it into her mouth. "Of course, I know it is not possible now," she said finally. "I simply dread the questions people will ask when they find out."

"No one will find out," he bit out. She flinched, and he softened his voice. "Besides you and me, no one knows of this but Mrs. Younge and Wickham himself. They could not expose you without likewise exposing themselves."

She nodded slowly. "I do wish there was a way to keep Cousin Richard from knowing, but I suppose that cannot be avoided."

How deeply has Wickham wounded her?
Darcy wished once more for his sword, but he reined in his anger. "Georgiana, why does that bother you? Richard will see the situation as I do--that Wickham is a rake of the worst kind who attempted to take advantage of a young girl's affectionate heart."

"I do not wish him to think me naive!" she burst out suddenly. "I do not wish..." She took a deep breath and focused her eyes on her plate. "I find I am not hungry after all. May I be excused, please?"

The request bemused Darcy, but he would not refuse her. "Yes, of course. Get some rest; we will be leaving for London on the morrow."

Darcy sent his cousin a message by express before he and Georgiana left Ramsgate the next morning, and Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived in London the following Monday. Darcy had ordered Remington, his butler, to show his cousin into the study without delay. Relief caught him by surprise when Richard appeared in the doorway, and he realized again how right his father had been to split the charge of his daughter between the cousins.

Though the military man appeared relaxed, his uniform gave him an air of command. "I came as soon as I received your letter, Darcy. What was urgent enough to require my immediate presence in town? I can only assume it has something to do with Georgie, since the last I knew, she was in Ramsgate with Mrs. Younge."

"Sit down, Richard."

"This begins to sound serious, Darcy," he teased. Darcy did not laugh, and Richard sat in a leather chair in front of the fireplace. "How serious is it?"

Darcy looked him straight in the eye. "It is very nearly as serious as it can be. Do you remember George Wickham?"

"I do. He was a great friend of your father's, was he not? Perhaps not the most decorous of gentlemen once he got to school, but then so many find that the freedom of being away from home loosens their morals." Richard sat up ramrod straight and said, "Good God! You do not mean to tell me..."

"I am afraid so."

"Where is she? Is she hurt? What did he do to her?"

Familiar with his cousin's rapid-fire method of questioning, Darcy did not blink. "She is in her bedchamber putting away her belongings. She is not hurt--at least not physically. He coerced her into an elopement, but I arrived just in time to spoil his well-laid plans. Naturally, I sent a letter to the reprobate expressing my disapproval of the match and immediately removed Georgiana from Ramsgate."

Richard jumped from his seat with an oath. "The cur! How dare he play with her feelings. I do wish I had been the one that found them--I would dearly love to have run him through."

Darcy watched him pace in front of the fireplace with some amazement. Of all the cousins, Richard had the calmest temperament. His cool head was the reason he had risen so quickly in the officers' ranks. Darcy had never seen him so riled.

"I admit the thought did cross my mind," Darcy said after a minute. "I cannot guarantee my restraint will hold if I ever meet with him again."

Richard pivoted back toward Darcy, anger drawn across his face in stark lines and fire in his dark eyes. "Where was Mrs. Younge in all of this?"

Darcy's lips tightened. "She was complicit in the scheme. He joined them in Ramsgate at her invitation, and it was by her design that they conveniently met during one of their walks."

Richard clenched his hand into a fist. "I take it she is no longer in our employ."

"No, so we will need to once again find a suitable companion for her. I confess I do not relish the chore."

A stifled cry alerted them to Georgiana's presence. The men turned to see her standing by the door, her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. "I am sorry," she cried. "I did not mean to be such a bother. He said he loved me, that he wished to marry me."

Before either gentleman could say a word, she fled down the long corridor. After her swishing skirts disappeared from view, Richard looked at Darcy in amazement. "What exactly was that about?"

Darcy shoved his hand through his hair. This was the area where he most desired his cousin's help. "I am afraid this has left Georgiana rather blue-deviled. She seems to believe the whole affair--" Richard winced, and Darcy shrugged apologetically--"this whole... business is her fault."

Richard sighed. "I will speak to her. I know you have told her she is not to blame, but perhaps she needs to hear the truth from someone else." He smiled wryly at Darcy. "Besides, words have never been your strength, cousin."

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief.
Perhaps she will believe the truth more from Richard.
"Thank you. I have tried, but..."

"Then it is up to me. You may begin writing the notice for the papers." Richard placed a supportive hand on Darcy's shoulder, and the cousins shared a quick smile before he left the room.

Despite his confident words, when Richard returned downstairs, he was alone. "She will not leave her room. I have asked a tray to be sent to her--let us leave her alone for the evening, William."

But it was not just for an evening. Over the next few days, Georgiana withdrew until she scarcely resembled the laughing child Darcy remembered. He turned all his attention to finding a companion for her, in hope a female influence would help matters.

Their notice attracted many applicants, but after their previous experience, he and Richard exercised even greater caution. One by one they eliminated candidates, until Darcy feared no one would meet their standards.

He pinched the bridge of his nose; there was no time for such doubts now. "Who is next, Richard?"

His cousin checked the list. "A widow named Mrs. Annesley."

"Her recommendations?"

"Several, including Mrs. Upton-Sinclair and Lady Stanton."

Darcy straightened up in his chair. "Lady Stanton is quite the stickler. She would not recommend anyone who did not meet the most rigorous of requirements."