A/N: Guys, if I ever say something again about having time in December to do justice to any non-holiday related projects, please feel free to tell me I'm delusional. xD Also, to complete the process of making myself wrong on every possible point, this story is refusing to fit into the twenty chapters I claimed it would. As things stand now it's looking more like it's going to be twenty-two chapters.
Hope you enjoy! :)
Chapter 19:
The first three days following the events narrated in the previous chapter, passed in a sort of happy dream for Georgiana. She was very weak, and slept most of the time, but whenever she woke either Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam, or Nathaniel would be beside her, and sometimes all three at once, for all seemed loathed to let her out of their sight for even an hour.
On the morning of the fourth day she was able to be carried to the sofa in Elizabeth's sitting room, where she could lie in the sunlight which poured through the window, warming the spot despite the cold air outside.
She fell asleep there, and when she woke, feeling mush refreshed, she saw her brother standing in the doorway. He seemed to be hesitating, so she smiled welcomingly, and held out a hand to him. At that he came forward and sat down beside her, positioning his chair so that he had a good view of her face where it lay amidst the pillows.
He was silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, and Georgiana's heart began to beat violently, for she knew what must come when he spoke.
At last Darcy roused himself and asked, "Georgiana, do you truly wish to marry Nathaniel Wakefield?"
Georgiana started, caught off guard at the abruptness of the question, but her voice was firm as she replied quietly, "Yes, Fitzwilliam, I do."
Darcy nodded resignedly. It was, of course, the answer he had been expecting, but something had compelled him to ask it one last time. "We have discussed the disadvantages of such a marriage," he began. "The censure of society, the drastic changes in your daily life which would be the necessary result of a drastically lower income, the differences between your educations and interests, and yet," with a short sigh, "you remain determined."
"Forgive me Fitzwilliam." Georgiana's voice was a little timid. "But your first statement was not entirely true. We never discussed these drawbacks. You spoke of them, and I listened, but never had the time or courage to reply."
Darcy was silent again, and Georgiana feared that she had angered him. But when he finally spoke, he said, "In that conversation I was both thoughtless and unkind. Please forgive me, and if you have the strength to tell me now what you wish you were given the chance to say then, I will listen."
"It was wrong of you to hurry away, refusing me time to speak, but I cannot find it in my heart to blame you, brother, for anything you said or did during that time," Georgiana said softly. "I… was wrong to hide something so important from you for so long. I did not know what else to do, but at the same time you had every right to be hurt and angry."
Darcy bowed his head in acknowledgement of her words. "Thank you for being more understanding than I was then," he said quietly, and then the two fell into silence once more, as Georgiana gathered her thoughts together to address his fears.
"I know that I will be shunned by society, Fitzwilliam," she began at last. "That has been clear to me from the start. But what I do not understand is why should I care to be accepted by a group of people so blinded by rank and wealth that those lacking them are somehow worthy of contempt. We are Darcys, Fitzwilliam!" she cried suddenly. "We care nothing for society! We stand apart and turn up our noses at the self-pretentious nobility, the fortune hunters, and the social climbers of the world."
Darcy's eyes flickered a little at this outburst, but he did not speak.
"Let us not quarrel then, brother," Georgiana continued more gently, "over the loss of such society, for I do not expect to be lonely without it. Indeed, I expect to be less lonely than I have been all my life, by freeing myself from the gilded cage in which I was necessarily brought up. You see Fitzwilliam, I have come to value those people living all about me—Nathaniel most of all of course, but there areothers—whom society would consider to be my inferiors, but in truth face life with so much courage and grace that I should be ashamed to be compared to them. And for this you have only yourself to blame, Fitzwilliam, for it was you, who by the respect and consideration you show to all the people under your care, taught me to see them as humans worthy of esteem and interest."
There was a slight pause, and then Georgiana asked unexpectedly, "Do you remember Mrs. Bartlett, brother?"
Darcy looked at her in some confusion but answered in the affirmative.
"I have never had the good fortune to meet the lady," Georgiana said quietly. "But I remember being struck by how highly you spoke of her after only an hour in her home. Indeed, from your words I inferred that she was universally respected and even loved by allwho knew her."
A pause and then, "She was the wife of the steward of Matlock, Fitzwilliam."
The expression on Darcy's face was indescribable, but it was not angry or distressed, and there was something in it which gave Georgiana the courage to finish, "So you see brother, you have dug your own grave. For in this matter again it was you who proved to me that not only are those people who work with their own two hands to win their daily bread worthy of my respect, but that by striving to be a good, noble, caring woman I myself may win the good opinion of those whose good opinion is worth having, regardless of my station in life."
And then Darcy laughed. It was a laugh which might have been a sob, and it made tears spring to Georgiana's eyes, for she knew in that instant that she had won, and Fitzwilliam Darcy would not oppose her marriage to Nathaniel Wakefield any longer.
"It seems I simply cannot win!" he exclaimed. Then more soberly, "I could not let my beloved sister pledge her life to someone without being sure she knew what she was about. But you are wiser than I realized, Georgiana, and I bow to your superiority of mind and heart."
Georgiana's only answer was to raise herself shakily from the sofa, and fling her arms around her brother's neck, at the same time breaking down into a torrent of tears.
"Georgie, stop!" Fitzwilliam cried, panic in his voice. "You are not strong enough for this. You will be ill again."
But it was several minutes before Georgiana could be calm. Her brother, realizing that she could in no way check the tears of joy and relief streaming down her face, gave up protesting, and simply held her tightly, until at last her tears ceased to flow. Then he laid her gently down again on the sofa, bending over her with all the tender solicitude of an anxious mother.
"Do not be alarmed Fitzwilliam," Georgiana whispered. "I shall not be ill again. I am too happy to be ill."
"No, but you must rest again now. Or I shall never forgive myself for speaking so soon. I should not have, but there are things that must be settled, that cannot wait any longer."
"I will rest," Georgiana promised. "But Fitzwilliam," catching his hand. "The last fear you spoke of was that I and Nathaniel should not be happy together, due to the dissimilarities of our educations and interests. I have no explanation based on reason to allay that fear. All I can do is ask you to believe me when I tell you that there is no one whose heart I understand better, or whom I would rather spend the rest of my life with. And I know, Fitzwilliam, that if you took the time to truly know him, you would value him almost as highly as I do. Will you try, please?"
She looked at him earnestly, knowing that he could refuse her nothing just now.
"I will," he said quietly. Then, "I must go now. Can I do anything for you before I leave?"
She shook her head, and he gave her a last smile and left the room.
For the next quarter of an hour Darcy could be seen pacing up and down the hall outside his study, deep in thought. Every so often he would stop by the window at the far end and stare out with unseeing eyes for a moment, before resuming his restless walking once more.
Upstairs, in the guest room assigned to him, Nathaniel too was pacing anxiously.
The state of absorbing bliss into which Georgiana's recover had thrown her family and himself could not last forever. Indeed, it seemed vital that he return to Matlock and explain his absence before another day had passed. Yet how could he explain something that he did not understand himself? Nothing had been settled. A thousand questions hung in the air, unanswered, and worse, unvoiced. Yet surely it was for Mr. Darcy to speak first.
So deep was his reverie that a knock on the door made him start violently. He opened it. Mr. Darcy stood there.
"Mr. Wakefield?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Do you ride?"
"Yes."
"Join me then."
That was all, but it was enough, and Nathaniel's face was white with apprehension as he walked beside Darcy to the stable yard and mounted the dark bay chosen for him, for he knew that the hour for voicing both questions and answers had finally come.
But out in the open air, with the brown, wintery fields stretching out before them, the pounding of their horses hooves in their ears, and the cold, bracing wind against their faces, nothing seemed as awkward or impossible, and Nathaniel saw that Darcy had known that it would be so, and was grateful.
Eventually Darcy slowed his horse, and Nathaniel matched his pace, so that they came to a stop at the crest of a long, sloping hill. In the valley before them was one of Pemberley's outlying farms, and beyond that the hills ran up again to meet the sky.
"You know this place, do you not?" Darcy asked.
"Of course. It was my home for the first eight years of my life. For a long time I hoped to come back to it, and live once more in the house where my mother was happy." Nathaniel spoke quietly, almost more to himself than his companion. "But all that was long ago. I like to think that she sees me wherever I am now, and I have left this place, and that dream behind."
"Indeed you have," Darcy replied. "As you must eventually leave behind the stewardship of Matlock, if you wish to marry my sister."
Nathaniel's head jerked up and he fixed his eyes on his companion's face. The cold wind had brought color back to his fresh young face, and his eyes glowed with layers of emotion as deep as the ocean they resembled.
Darcy had to look away. It was too easy to like Nathaniel Wakefield. He must not be too hasty to give him the confirmation he desired. He must make him understand the worth of the treasure he was to receive.
Thus, his voice had a warning note in it as he replied quickly, "That is only one of my terms. You have yet to hear the others."
"Please tell me what they are."
"Before I do so, I should—" Darcy broke off, as if unsure just what to say, and then began again. "That day at Matlock," there was no need for further elaboration, "You and Georgiana both spoke of a four-year plan of yours. I should like to hear what it was. I do not want the jargon of society," he added, with a smile Nathaniel did not quite understand. "I want the figures and dates which you surely have, since if you did not, you would make a poor steward, and whatever other faults you have that is not one of them."
Nathaniel flushed a little, but he began without hesitation.
"I intended to remain at Matlock for the aforementioned four years, in which time I would save 1,200 pounds with which to purchase fifty acres of farmland with a house or cottage on it.
"With my status as a respectable farmer, and the proof of my willingness to work and desire to rise, I and Georgiana would have revealed our attachment to you. I knew you would not approve, but it seemed more likely that you would reluctantly give us your blessing at that time then if, as matters turned out, the matter was to be sprung on you at once as things stand now.
"Providing all went as planned and Georgiana became my wife, I would have, with her permission, used 5,000 pounds from her dowry to enlarge the property to the three-hundred acres necessary to place us among the landed gentry. That may sound mercenary to you. All I can do is assure you that my main object in doing so would be to further Georgiana's comfort and happiness. The estate, if managed well, would bring in at least 300 a year, and with Georgiana's 1,000 per annum, our potential yearly income can be estimated at 1,300 pounds."
Darcy nodded, his face betraying nothing of his being either satisfied or disappointed.
"Would you consent to adopt that plan with a few alterations?"
"I will listen to them," Nathaniel said, and Darcy was suddenly very pleased that he had not agreed without hearing them.
"Instead of four years, you will remain as steward of Matlock for one. This will allow you to save close to 500 pounds, and will likewise give my cousin enough time to find another steward. At the end of next year, you will use 12,000 pounds from Georgiana's fortune, and your own savings, to purchase a four-hundred-acre estate, entire, and with a suitable house. Such an estate would bring in close to 500 a year and Georgiana would have 700 per annum. Your income would not change materially, but Georgiana would be required to wait for one year, instead of four. Her happiness is our mutual object I trust?"
Nathaniel was looking off into the distance, to where the Derbyshire hills met the sky. After a moment he replied in a low voice, "It is, sir."
"That is well," said Darcy, and then he too was silent, both suddenly conscious of the fact that if they spoke, they would cry.
At last Nathaniel stirred and hastily brushed a hand across his eyes. Turning to Darcy he asked, "What of Lord Matlock, sir?"
"I intend to write a letter this very night, asking him and his wife to come at once. I will only tell him I have business to discuss with him, and that a visit with Lady Matlock would bring great delight to Georgiana and Elizabeth. Such… information… as we have to impart to them is best delivered in person."
Nathaniel nodded. "Thank you."
Darcy understood that the simple expression of gratitude was all encompassing.
"I— I always thought highly of you Wakefield, before your association with Georgiana drove all thoughts but of fear and anger out of my mind. I trust that I shall soon be able to think as highly, if not more highly of you again, as our relationship becomes that of brothers. I trust likewise that you understand that my anger and fear was based on my affection for my sister, a terror of seeing her hurt, and my fear of losing her."
"Do you have any idea how much Georgiana loves you?" Nathaniel asked suddenly.
"What?" Darcy's surprise at the words getting the better of his good breading for a moment.
"In all our conversations together, she never spoke of you to me in anything but terms of the highest respect and affection… except perhaps once at the very beginning when she referred to you as being too careful of her, and even then she admitted to knowing it was out of a desire to protect her. You never lost her, and you never will."
Darcy did not answer, but he heard, and was grateful.
A few moments later the two men turned their horses about, and disappeared back in the direction of Pemberley House.