Bingley stood next to Darcy in Darcy's rooms as his valet packed fine woolen trousers, embroidered silk vests, and linen shirtsleeves into the heavy iron-banded trunk.
"Bingley, I thank you," Darcy spoke with a repressed anger towards Bingley, irrationally blaming his friend for part of the pain which he felt, "for your hospitality. However, you must admit it is natural for me and Georgiana to leave and leave immediately."
"I…I can only imagine — is it entirely ended?"
"Over. She threw my love back at me. She threw my ring back at me. She prefers…pray tell, what am I to do? I am a man. A proud man. I responded to her dramatics and to her arguments with calmness and presence of mind. I will not chase at her like a sniffing dog. Matters are at an end between us."
"Oh." Bingley looked unsurprised and almost relieved. He should show a sympathetic expression instead of a thoughtful one.
"Damn you, man. You introduced her to me. Your sister. What sort of woman jilts a man because he will not manage his ward in the manner she wishes? Elizabeth is not so good a woman. Not so good as I believed."
Bingley twisted his hand in his pocket and grimaced. "That is how you see her at present?"
Darcy felt sick. The storm whipped against the windows, renewing its strength. She had gone out into the rain, in her safe carriage. Gone. Falling water separated them.
"Elizabeth, she…" Bingley sighed. "Elizabeth expects to be listened to. For her opinion to be respected. If you cannot…it was for the best that you both discovered this before your marriage was solemnized."
"Georgiana is my responsibility. Mine. I failed her once. I won't fail her again. Not for Elizabeth's sake. If Elizabeth willfully denies that it is my decision who Georgiana marries, then…then…then this was for…" Despite his anger, the horrid feeling in Darcy's chest meant he could not agree, ever, that losing Elizabeth was for the best.
"You are used to having your way in all matters. I am not surprised a conflict arose between you two. A mismatched pair in my eyes, but I never deeply understood either of you, and I did not consider it my place to say anything."
"Et tu, Brute? Elizabeth said Mr. Bennet disliked the match."
Bingley put his hand on Darcy's shoulder. "There, man, there. Don't keep the pain in. It hurts."
"Why do you all disapprove? I am the richest man she could possibly marry. I have a grand estate; I am a responsible master — I am a perfect gentleman. She said I was too gentlemanlike."
Bingley looked like he was beginning to cry.
"How can a man be too gentlemanlike? Too concerned for the care of others. Too honest and upright in his bearing. Too noble in his antecedents. She is immature and unwilling to subordinate herself to anyone. She is another example of how radicals destroy the minds and morals of women who take them seriously. She should not be permitted to marry at all."
"Don't be like the fox with the grapes. Do not try to pretend you are not desperately unhappy."
"You tell me it is for the best."
"Elizabeth expects a great deal from her husband. If you cannot offer her what she wishes, you should not seek her hand. Life…it is not some game. Marriage is compromise. If you cannot accept that—"
"She couldn't accept it!"
"You and she would not have been happy together. I am glad Elizabeth saw that before it was too late. But I hope…I hope I shall not lose your friendship forever."
"We would have been happy. If only she wasn't so…so… Damn, man! I will not cry. You will not make me. Order my damned carriage to be prepared."
Darcy left Bingley. He went to the hallway. He hid in a servant's closet with a wooden bucket, three dirty mops, and a fat spider, so that no one could see him cry.
The cave at Royston, her hands brushing against his arm. They had planned to walk every day the whole way around the park, so that Elizabeth could see Pemberley come alive in Spring, and detail every bit of the growth of green. He would never walk around the park with her.
Bingley was right. For the best.
He'd been eager to walk the park with her. What was the point of having a park if he could never walk around it with Elizabeth?
He would not bend, bow or change. Not in this matter. Elizabeth was not a fit woman to marry a man such as he.
He needed to mail to everyone the news of the end of the engagement. After it had been posted in the newspapers. Another scandal.
They would all think, when they heard about the engagement ending, that he had come to his senses and abandoned the woman who had a modest dowry and poor connections. He would look dishonorable. And he was honor bound to keep from explaining to his friends that it was her fault. That she was a cruel woman who casually and callously stomped upon the soul and spirit of a man who ardently adored her.
He still wished to walk the circuit of the park with her.
During the day following that day, the one during which his fiancée threw the ring he had given her to symbolize their connection and happiness in his rough direction, Fitzwilliam Darcy had the awareness thrust upon him that his sister, Georgiana Darcy, was not merely unhappy, but that she was in fact unhappy with him. It was no great surprise.
Women were inconstant in their temperament and prone to spiting those who cared most for their welfare.
"Pray, Georgie, would you wish," Darcy said, hoping for a reply, but knowing it was unlikely, "to speak upon matters from yesterday?"
His sister stared at the hot coffee and the porridge she had ordered for herself after Darcy had, in hopes of raising her spirits, asked the inn to bring out all of its finest pastries. Anne, satisfied by her consumption of the sugary concoctions, stickily tore the excess strawberry and lemon tarts and chocolate cornets apart and strewed little threads of breading around the edges of the tablecloth in a complicated pattern which only a child's brain could properly appreciate.
Neither of her guardians stopped her. Darcy had not eaten a great deal either, lacking the stomach for food as well.
Never marry. Never.
That was his new decision. The softness of mind and manner required to deal kindly with the mutability of females eluded him. Fortunately the need to brick off his heart had been stabbed into him before he took vows, before church and man, burdening himself with the unending care and management of one Elizabeth Bennet.
Lizzy, why?
Darcy looked at the crisscrossing brown beams of the ceiling. She would not have appreciated being told that marriage would have placed her under his management — he never thought of it in such a way. When he imagined their married life, he'd seen fascinating disputes, happy celebrations, light and laughter and friends brought to Pemberley, a sensual sequence of Elizabeth-scented nights. What they would do if they disagreed deeply had not crossed his mind.
Georgiana was the child — girl — not a woman adult, under his management.
Anne was distracted by her guardians' distraction, and she started throwing crumbs at the fireplace. They blew up into little bright flames before blackening and giving the room a smell of burnt bread. Georgiana did keep half an eye on her daughter to ensure she did not wave her hands too close to the fire, but otherwise allowed her to do as she wished.
The three of them were trapped in this inn, at least until noon, along with their servants and the rest of their accoutrements. Ice had formed on the road thirty miles to the north of London. Perhaps they might have proceeded at a very slow pace, but now that he was a sufficient distance from there — when one wrote there one also wrote her — Darcy had no hasteful hope to reach his vast empty estate. A comfortable inn — Anne liked the way she could make a toy out of the pastries; the room was as warm as home; and Darcy had stayed here several times before while traveling between Pemberley and London.
Too much of a gentleman? What did that even mean? If he was too gentle a gentleman, Elizabeth was too laddish a lady.
"Uncle Will, Uncle Will." Anne pulled at Darcy's sleeve. Darcy looked in concern at the wool fabric, but his niece had cleaned the jam off her tiny fingers with a bit of water and a napkin before demanding Darcy's attention.
He turned his attention to the girl, glad for the distraction from his thoughts, and he smiled at her.
"Pick me up! Pick me up! You aren't doing anything."
Mr. Darcy stood and bent to follow the girl's orders, as he after all was not doing anything. However before he could Georgiana rushed from her seat where she had sat poking the congealed porridge and lifted Anne herself, carrying her away from Darcy. "Not now, Annie, Uncle Fitz does not wish to be bothered." Georgiana opened the bag with Anne's toys that she always had with her, and pulled out a big doll in a pink tulle dress. "Play with Charlotte."
Anne pouted. "I want to be carried around the room. Around the room!"
"I'll give you a cookie and…and we'll make a new dress for Charlotte."
"A silk dress?"
Georgiana nodded eagerly in agreement. "But do not try to play with Uncle Will today."
The girl turned towards Darcy for confirmation of these orders. Darcy smiled at her and waved. Anne ran to the corner of the room and made Charlotte to march around and beat her wooden hands against the wall with tiny taps.
"Georgie." Darcy spoke in a mild tone.
She glared at him.
Yes, his suspicion was confirmed. Georgiana was not merely displeased by the end of her engagement. She resented him for protecting her future well-being.
Darcy added, without changing his tone, "That was remarkably petty of you."
Georgiana's glare broke and she blushed embarrassedly, looking down and rubbing her fingers over the tablecloth.
"Anne should not be used to punish me."
Georgiana stared at her fingers and the green and orange floral pattern of the tablecloth. Darcy maintained his stiff expression, waiting to see how she would respond. The silence sat pregnant upon the table. Darcy felt an unaccustomed nervousness. He did not know how to help Georgiana regain her happiness and accept that he had made the right decision for her.
She coughed out, without looking up, "I apologize. I should not have."
He did not like to see Georgiana unhappy with him.
Darcy absently grabbed the half of a lemon tart which Anne had left untortured and stuffed the sugary concoction into his mouth. His mouth was dry, and the cloying flavor stuck as he chewed and chewed until he could swallow and force the bread and sugar like a rock into his stomach.
This wasn't supposed to be like this.
"How?" Georgiana formed her hands into small fists; she sat upright like a marble column; she clenched her jaw so tight that it pulsated. "How could you do it?"
"Our father placed you under my protection. Even if it gives you transient pain, I must do as best I can to—"
"Not that." Georgiana's lips twisted angrily, and she jabbed the air. "Elizabeth. How could you end matters with Elizabeth because she supported me?"
It lashed him again. She had thrown him away, like a bauble, like a ring tossed against the ground. Why did he long for her — she felt so little for him.
Like a flash he saw the look in her eyes as he proposed to her. The way she bent her lips forward to kiss him, and the simple enthusiasm his Lizzy had for everything in life.
"Oh." Georgiana's voice was soft and soothing. She stood and went round the table and placed her hand on his arm, and then her arms around him. Darcy at first was stiff. He comforted his sister, and he would not cry in front of her.
He couldn't stop. He tried, but he couldn't stop the images of their weeks together and her smiles and happiness and the pain of that aching why.
He hugged Georgiana back, hoping she would not see his tears as he did hold himself back from sobbing. She saw.
Anne stopped playing and came to them and realizing something was amiss with her adults, she wrapped her arms around their legs. "Is this because we are going back to Pemberley house, and leaving Aunt Lizzy and Aunt Jane and Bennet and everyone behind?"
"Yes, sweetling," Both Georgiana and Darcy replied to Anne at the same time.
Darcy wiped his eyes and picked up Anne to sit on his lap. This time Georgiana did not stop him as he hugged her head against his chest, able to smell her hair, and the little girl hugged him back. He would hate it when Anne was too old to hold like this.
Georgiana sat close. "Fitzwilliam," she asked softly, "what happened?"
"She, she… I cannot understand. Why?" Darcy felt too sad to be righteously angry, and he knew that insulting Elizabeth to his sister would not win her to his cause. "She ended our engagement. She chose it — I would not have. Never."
His sister placed her hand on his arm, and Darcy's eyes clouded over with tears again.
"I did not deserve it. I did not. She encouraged you in your infatuation — but I would not have thrown our love away for that. She threw mine away the first time I did not follow her demands."
"Fitzwilliam…"
"She took my ring from her finger and threw it to the ground so that it bounced and bounced."
Georgiana's eyes widened and she gasped.
"Ha! You are surprised your friend treated me in such a brutal fashion."
His sister clapped her hand over her mouth. "What did you say to her to place her in such a rage?"
"You accuse me?"
Georgiana mutely shook her head, with her hand still over her mouth.
Darcy slumped into the chair, still holding Anne against him.
"But she… not normally, Lizzy would not have done that."
"Aunt Lizzy!" Anne clapped and squirmed so she could sit up in Darcy's lap. "When will Aunt Lizzy visit us in Pemberley? She told me she was coming with us."
"Never."
Anne stared into his eyes with her big wet blue eyes.
He kissed her on the forehead.
"When Lizzy come?" Anne repeated the question.
Darcy kissed her on the forehead again. She quieted down but squirmed out of Darcy's arms and went to play with her doll again.
"Georgie, I apologize." Darcy smiled with a skull's grimace. "I am overwrought, and I should not speak insultingly of your friend — you can only sympathize with me to a limit, she grew enraged in pursuit of your cause."
Georgiana covered her eyes with her fingers. "I had no idea — none. Oh, if I had known my hopes would destroy you and Lizzy, I…" Georgiana halted a frown over her face.
"Blame not yourself. Her affection for me was not great, not if it could be changed by… No means could have been driven me from her, except, alas, her orders. They drove me away, for I am a gentleman. I will not force myself upon a woman when my presence is unwished. I will not push my longings upon a girl who spurns my name. I will not pine for her. I am complete in myself as a Darcy, an island standing high above the sea, alone amongst the crashing surf while the seabirds whirl in circles and caw lonely cries above, with only you, my sister, and your daughter, growing as sweet trees upon my windswept shore. So it has been, and so it will always be. For she threw my ring on the ground."
"Oh, Fitzwilliam. I…I grieve for you. As much as for myself."
Darcy had a duty. Georgiana's words reminded him of it. "How…what do you feel — Mr. Peake. I again exposed you to an unsuitable attachment. I am glad that the damage has been less this time, but…"
"I love him — it is different. Not like when — not like Mr. Wickham. Not at all."
Darcy opened his mouth to argue, but he knew that would not work. Georgiana needed to believe he listened to her, or else she would never be able to accept the rightness of his choice. Not if she was doubting. He pulled his chair closer to her and softly asked, "How is this different?"
"Oh! In every way. Mr. Peake never attempted to seduce me. He is my friend, like Jane and Bingley or you and Lizzy… Oh! Lord, I… Fitzwilliam, I am so sorry."
Darcy nodded.
"My friend. I can talk to him about anything, and he speaks to me about the matters that are deepest to him, his work, and his life in London, and his family back home, in Derbyshire. His hopes for the future. And he is so sweet about everything."
Darcy smiled a little. "I thought he talked to you about bills of exchange, and when to buy and sell government stock. That sort of nonsense."
"Oh, yes!" Georgiana enthusiastically exclaimed. "I adore it. He speaks to me like no one else does, treating me as interested in his business, and worthy of hearing about it. He always did."
"How did he treat you when he was in my employ?" Darcy leaned forward with a hard gaze.
"Oh! No, no, no. Surely you don't think — Mr. Peake is a good man. Honorable. Not while he was in your employ, besides," Georgiana giggled, "he thought himself much too far beneath me to look at the daughter of the house with serious intent. He told me that he did love me then, and I had an admiration for him, but we were too young. We only talked; I asked him everything about the estate business and collecting rents, and the sorts of things you don't like to be bothered by a woman with. But he enjoyed explaining."
"He did? You say he loved you then? He told you that now?"
"You are terrible suspicious. Though Wickham…suspicion is not unjustified."
"Did he make love to you then?"
"You are not listening. Even though he knew all about my disgrace, he still thought I was above him."
"You are above him."
Georgiana waved her hand. "Nonsense. I am outside of normal society — even in Hertfordshire, they all see me differently because of Anne. Even if they are courteous, I am not treated the same as other girls. So you see, you really have no reason to oppose us. I should not be treated as before, I sinned, and even after repentance—"
"You are a Darcy. You were born a Darcy. You cannot cease to be a Darcy."
"I could marry. Then I would quit the name." Georgiana smiled at him. "Please listen, Fitzwilliam. I am not being irrational — I know what I am about when I wish to marry Mr. Peake. I can explain—"
"No you cannot."
"You can hardly know whether I can explain or not if you do not listen to me." She spoke in a reasonable tone, but Darcy could see in the eagerness in her eyes, that she still hoped he could be convinced.
Darcy sighed and pulled at his hair. "When did you become so combative and forward?"
"Lizzy taught me—" Her face shined as she grabbed Darcy's wrist. "Matters are not ruined irretrievably. If you only listen, you will understand that I am not really above Mr. Peake, and there is no reason to stop us from marrying, and we can return straight away, and you and Lizzy can reconcile, and we will all be happy the way I thought we were yesterday and—"
"She threw my ring away because I was too gentlemanly."
"You are crying for her, and—"
"Do not speak of that."
Georgiana pursed her lips, and tilted her head to look at him as if he were a strange insect trapped in amber in an eccentric gentleman's curio cabinet. "Why ever not?"
"It is not done. Not done. Bad form."
"Crying?"
Darcy felt full of shame now at remembering how he had sobbed. His eyes were still red. A gentleman such as him should be able to hide his tears.
"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard from you. Tears relieve pain, it is natural."
"A gentleman should not be weak enough to need such relief."
"Lizzy called you too gentlemanly?" Georgiana rolled her eyes and shook her head. "She was right — stop being too gentlemanly. Apologize, she still loves you, and—"
"I have nothing to apologize for."
Georgiana's eager motions halted. And her face fell. Darcy hated to see it. "I do not desire us to be unhappy," she said.
Darcy was unhappy. Georgiana was unhappy, even if her brief moment of hope that she could change his mind made her forget it. Darcy softly tapped his foot against the leg of the table and looked at Anne peacefully playing with her doll. One of them was happy at least.
"I lost my right to the family name."
"You did not."
"Our aunt, Lady Catherine said—"
"She is a fool who no wise person listens to."
"Fitzwilliam, why is it important I don't marry a tradesman? Surely you would not be hurt more by such a connection than you are by the presence of me and Anne in your house."
"I do not care how it affects me. You will not marry a man in trade."
She looked down and bit her lips. Then Georgiana quietly whispered something to herself. Darcy could almost swear she whispered, "What would Lizzy do?" Georgiana placed her palms on the table. "You are not being rational. Pride is a passion as much as anything else. You are not being reasonable."
"How is it possibly reasonable to marry a tradesman?"
Georgiana sat straighter. She tilted her head and crossed her legs. She was consciously adopting Elizabeth's posture when she argued with her father or Darcy. "We disagree on this; I think I am being reasonable by wishing to marry Mr. Peake. You must say something more than simply repeating that it is unreasonable. What makes it so?"
"This is not a matter of logic. This is not a matter of argument. You are my sister, and I am your guardian, and I expect you to obey me in this matter."
"Did you tell Lizzy that?"
"If your graven figurine cannot bear to be opposed, it does not matter to me."
"I shall not leave you alone until you give me a satisfactory explanation — I shall not make a brilliant marriage, no matter what. You know that. And I have no interest in participation in grand society. And I have money sufficient to live well, and Mr. Peake has excellent character—"
"He works for a living — you certainly have not enough to live as you have at Pemberley. Costs in London are so high, and once he has sucked the capital of your dowry dry, and wasted it in a business venture that ends in bankruptcy — many ventures do, even if the tradesman is of the greatest skill and diligence, temperamental luck often plays a decisive role when one depends upon the vagaries of prices and customers rather than land for income."
"You cannot possibly fear that you would need to support us again, enough would be set aside in settlement to support us decently, besides you have no need for money."
"You are the daughter of one of the grandest families of Derbyshire. Hundreds of years of history exist behind our name. We have dwelt in the hills of Derbyshire, master of all we could see, since the time of the Stuarts. Our family name goes back to the men who supported Bolingbroke against the hunchback. We are the Darcys. And not in solitude is the line of your father grand. By your mother's name, you are a Fitzwilliam. A newer creation than the Darcys but with a higher title, created to ennoble the blood of a descendent of Charles II. Illegitimacy did not rob that blood of its great status. The blood which flows through your limbs flowed also through the veins of a king, and that a king of England, a hundred and fifty years past. Such lines — they shall not be commingled with the blood of a man who makes his living by moving goods about and convincing fools to pay a higher price for them than what he paid in the first place."
Georgiana clutched her arms around her body. Her cheeks burned and she studied the weave of the tablecloth. Tonelessly she said, "Merchants provide a valuable service by allowing the flow of trade to function — the merchants add as much benefit to society as growing corn and delving for coal or lead—"
"The deuce! Georgiana Darcy, I care not in the slightest what Mr. Peake quoted from Ricardo, or Smith, or whichever economist is popular amongst the Cits to justify his profession unto you. He is not worthy to be husband for a woman of your blood."
"You cannot be reasoned with. Your pride demands that your sister should not marry outside of the ranks of the gentry."
"My pride? Your pride — what ought to be your pride. This ought to have been Elizabeth's pride also. I care not for myself. The world can despise me, or it can adore me. I am indifferent. I act for your sake. For your own sake, you shall not marry him. You will perceive one day your rank again as you ought, one day you will wake to what you owe the name, the grand name: Darcy. You will thank me, on that day. For your own sake you will thank me. You will thank me for protecting you from such a blunder."
Georgiana rubbed at her eyes and did not look up. She appeared to be on the verge of tears. Darcy reached forward to touch her arm in comfort, but she pulled her wrist away from him.
It had not rained at all for the past hour, and through the window it appeared the sky had less grey than before. When Georgiana made no further motion, Darcy rose and looked out the window. "I shall ask whether there is news about the state of the road. I believe we shall be able to set off soon."