Darcy paced up and down the sitting room nervously. Georgiana sat reading, but Darcy hardly noticed her. His mind was far too occupied by the thought of welcoming Elizabeth and her family into his home.
Despite his interest in the philosophers of the ages, he did not believe in concepts such as fate. It made him uncomfortable to think that he had no control over his life. He considered himself a practical man, driven by the world around him, and the twitching strings of some unseen force was too much for him to worry over.
However, he could not deny the powerful coincidence of meeting Elizabeth in the bookshop earlier that day.
In truth, he was confused. He had left Rosings without seeing Elizabeth after delivering his letter. A piece of him had wished to see her, to hear her reaction to the truths revealed, but when he and Colonel Fitzwilliam had attempted to visit and bid the woman goodbye, Darcy had been exceedingly grateful to find her absent from the Collins’ house.
He had not realised his courage was so easily extinguished, but extinguished it had been, and as he rode away from Rosings Park, a large part of him felt relief at missing the connection.
That relief had faded quickly to be replaced with a black mood and a sour disposition. He had offered Elizabeth his heart and she had summarily rejected his advance. The pain of such actions had been previously unimaginable. If someone had told him that such an event would cause him so much distress, he would have dismissed them out of hand.
Yet, his pain continued: sometimes hidden, sometime outright, but always present.
Now, a chance encounter had thrown Darcy together with her again. She had not been hostile towards him, but neither had she seemed pleased to find him amid the shelves of books. A part of him hoped that his ill-conceived invitation would spark an ignition of affection within her—that his letter of explanation would provide enough fuel to allow that spark to catch.
However, that hope was a frightening prospect: for hope would offer his heart up to be broken once more.
He did not know what to think, what to feel, or what to do about the situation. His only solution was to walk out his anxiety before his guests arrived.
“Brother,” Georgiana said all of a sudden, snapping her book shut. “I’ve watched you pace up and down this room a hundred times in the last few minutes. I wish you would tell me what bothers you.”
“What bothers me?” Darcy asked, stopping his pacing and instead sitting in a chair opposite his sister. “I do not know to what you refer.”
“I wish you would not treat me as if I have no mind and no eyes,” Georgiana said. “For I possess both and can acquit myself well in matters of both intelligence and reason.”
“Of that I have no doubt!” Darcy said, appalled at the thought that Georgiana believed he would think otherwise. “But I am still uncertain how to answer your inquiry.”
“Ever since you arrived here from visiting our aunt, you have shut yourself away. When you have emerged, you’ve been short with everyone and surly on top of that. Now, you have worn a hole in the carpet with you anxious pacing. I can tell something bothers you, and it pains me that you will not allow me to share your burden.”
Darcy sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. “I have behaved quite poorly, haven’t I?” Georgiana nodded once in agreement. “And I will admit that I am quite anxious.”
“About our guests?” Georgiana guessed.
Darcy remained silent for a moment, trying to determine just how much to reveal to his sister. For as much as he believed she meant her offer to share his burden, he had no desire to cause her any discomfort. Or give her a reason to dislike Elizabeth. He could not bear it if his sister thought poorly of her, even after she broke his heart.
“Alright,” he said, making up his mind. “I will tell you. But I beg that you will not think less of me.”
“I could never think less of you, dear brother,” Georgiana reassured him affectionately.
Darcy nodded, acknowledging her words although his mind was already busy thinking of a way to approach the topic at hand.
“I went to visit Rosings with a singular purpose in mind,” he admitted at last. “Our aunt and cousin provided only the thinnest cover for my true purpose. For I had heard that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was in Kent visiting a close friend. I travelled thusly with the sole intention of renewing our acquaintance.”
“The same Miss Elizabeth Bennet we met today?” Georgiana gasped, immediately conceiving the great impossibility of such an occurrence.
“The same,” Darcy confirmed. “But I have more to tell you, if you will permit me to continue.”
Georgiana closed her mouth and motioned for him to continue.
Darcy snapped out of his seat and continued his pacing. “We did renew our acquaintance,” he said. “And over the days spent together, I confirmed what I had begun to suspect while in Hertfordshire: I had fallen in love with her.”
“What?” Georgiana yelped in surprised delight. “You’re in love? Why have you not told me more of her? Why did you not know she was in London? What are your intentions?”
“Peace, dear sister, for I am not finished with my story,” Darcy said sadly. “Despite my reservations about her status in society, her fortune, her family… Despite all of these things, I had determined I must marry her. It was the only course of action my heart would allow. And so, I proposed.”
“You proposed?” Georgiana said slowly, realising now that her brother’s tale was far from happy. “But you’re not engaged… are you?”
Darcy slowly shook his head.
Georgiana gave a disbelieving laugh. “No, surely she did not reject you!”
“She did,” he admitted. “Soundly and with more force of character than I had imagined possible.”
“Is she mad!” Georgiana exclaimed and Darcy heard anger in her voice. “How dare she turn down your hand! Does she not know how blessed she would be to call you husband?”
“No, no,” Darcy said sadly, throwing himself back in the chair across from his sister. “I do not blame her. And I won’t allow you to blame her either. For she was right to reject me. The manner in which I asked is not something of which I am proud. I was arrogant and insulting, and deserved to be so repulsed.”
“Arrogant and insulting?” Georgiana said. “I hardly believe it. What did you say?”
Darcy immediately felt his face redden at the memory, but he knew he must share everything with Georgiana. Especially if he wished her to have a good opinion of Elizabeth.
“I believe I referred to the ‘inferiority of her birth’ and the ‘wanton lack of propriety’ displayed by her mother and three younger sisters…”
Georgiana’s hand flew to her mouth to cover her gasp. “Oh, brother, you didn’t… You said those things in the course of a proposal?”
“I was attempting to explain my hesitation,” he replied, half-heartily defending himself. “I do not pretend that I handled the situation well. Indeed, if someone had asked for your hand in such an atrocious manner, he would be lucky if rejection was the only consequence to such declarations.”
“Well,” Georgiana admitted. “If you truly uttered such reservations, I do not know that I could blame her… Though I am curious to know how she rejected you in such a way that you defend her decision.”
“It is because she spoke the truth,” Darcy sighed. “She quite accurately called out my incivility and arrogance. I did not behave as a gentleman and for that, I am quite ashamed.”
“I am confused,” Georgiana said. “If such animosity has passed between you, why on earth did you invite her and her family to dine with us? Would it not be easier for you to have simply pretended not to see her in that shop?”
Darcy thought before replying. In truth, the crux of Elizabeth’s disdain toward him was the abominable situation with Wickham and the scurrilous lies the man told. Darcy had no wish to cause his sister pain in order to explain his own. However, he knew his sister well enough to know that she would not be satisfied with half-truths.
“There were one or two… misunderstandings that I felt it vital to correct,” he finally said. “The first dealing with a certain false tale being peddled around Meryton in Hertfordshire. The second my actions in service of a friend.” He hoped this explanation would be enough for his sister.
“You cannot give such cryptic answers and expect me to be satisfied,” Georgiana gently rebuked him. “Not in the midst of such a story.”
“The second I can say with little hesitation,” Darcy said. “Charles Bingley had fallen in love with Elizabeth’s sister. I believed that she did not return his regard. Further, I believed that her mother was pushing her towards Charles for his wealth. I could not stand by and allow Charles to be hurt in such ways.”
“Yes, Caroline Bingley has related similar events at the last few gatherings we’ve both attended,” Georgiana said. “However, I am surprised to hear that her version of things seems to be the truth.”
“No,” Darcy said miserably. “I am quite afraid that I have been mistaken on that account as well. For you met the lady in question at the shop.”
“Jane?” Georgiana asked uncertainly. “But she seemed most kind and polite! Surely you could not believe such a gentle creature capable of such deceit and malice!”
“I did what I have done in service of a friend,” Darcy said. “I acted in accordance with what I knew at the time and I cannot change it.” He was still unsure of Jane’s feelings and intentions. However, he had a creeping suspicion that he had acted too rashly.
“Alright,” Georgiana said, accepting his response. “But there is still one part of this story that is a mystery. What of these false tales floating about Hertfordshire? How could they have such poor reflection upon you?”
“I’m not sure I should say, for I fear revealing these things will cause you pain,” Darcy said, giving Georgiana a concerned look.
Georgiana sat in silence for a few moments, looking into his eyes and appearing to be lost in thought. “Wickham?” She finally whispered, the name causing her face to spasm in a momentary flash of pain.
Darcy nodded slowly. “I do not feel the need to convey the depths of his depraved lies, but they painted me in a villainous light.”
Georgiana’s face broke into open anger. “How dare he slander you! After his despicable and dishonourable behaviour, he has quite the nerve to imply terrible things of you!”
Darcy was momentarily pleased to see his sister display such open hatred and hostility towards Wickham. Perhaps it was a sign her poor heart was mended.
“Please tell me you had an opportunity to set the record straight in that regard?” Georgiana asked.
“I did,” Darcy said. “I hope you will not be too upset with me for sharing the broad details of the damnable affair with Elizabeth. I realise I should have asked your leave, but I was so determined to fight such insulting falsehoods, I did not stop to think to ask.”
“You have my eternal leave to set the record straight as needed,” Georgiana said bitterly. “I cannot stand the thought that anyone might think well of him. He does not deserve such civility.”
“Thank you for your belated permission,” Darcy continued. “I wrote Miss Elizabeth a letter explaining everything. I put it into her hand myself, but if she read it or threw it into the fire, I do not know. All I know is that, despite my broken heart and bleak mood, when I saw her today I found myself as much in love as ever. The invitation slipped out before I knew what was happening.”
“And now you are torn between wondering if her acceptance of such an invitation is an indication towards hope or mere politeness,” Georgiana said, understanding the situation perfectly.
“I could not have described it better myself,” Darcy said miserably.
Georgiana stood up and walked over to him. She wrapped her arms about him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“I do not envy you your heart,” she said softly. “But I will pray that this meal will heal your hurt. One way or another.”
“I hope your prayers are answered,” Darcy replied. “For I cannot imagine more pain than I have felt these last days, but I fear to learn how wrong I might be.”