"Mrs. Darcy, there was a letter for you in the post."
"Thank you, Mary," Elizabeth said as she took her letter from the maid. The letter was from her sister Jane. Setting it next to her plate, she was determined to read it as soon as she was finished with breakfast.
"Do not feel as if you have to entertain us. Read your letter," her husband urged.
"You truly do not mind?" she asked.
Darcy responded in the negative prompting her to open her sister's letter. Her sister wrote about events in Meryton, a surprise visit from Mr. and Mrs. Collins, her mother's subsequent outrage, and at the end, a piece of disconcerting news. Lydia would be going to Brighton as a guest of Mrs. Forester, the Colonel's wife. Jane told her how Lydia had begged and pleaded for permission to go to Brighton and how their father had finally, but reluctantly acquiesced.
Her displeasure must have shown on her face, because her sister-in-law asked, "Did you not receive good news from home?"
Sighing, Elizabeth explained, "It is nothing bad. My youngest sister plans to travel to Brighton. I am just a little concerned. She is so young to make the journey without family."
"Brighton? I believe Bingley said that is where the militia is headed. I'm surprised your father would let your sister go alone."
Slightly annoyed, she replied, "She will be the guest of the Colonel and Mrs. Forester. So she will hardly be alone."
Her husband replied with only a lift of his eyebrow as he chewed his food.
Elizabeth bristled. She could sense the derision behind his facial expression. Mr. Darcy did not hide the fact that he disapproved of her family. He probably disapproved of her sister's association with the Foresters as well. It did not matter to her what he thought. "She will be well chaperoned. Colonel Forester is a fine gentleman. There are many fine gentlemen in the regiment."
"I am certain that there are," Darcy replied drolly.
"Yes, men who were genteelly bred, but had to join out of necessity. Men who had been promised a living and were denied it by the very people who had promised it to them." Her ire rose as she boldly added, "Men like Mr. Wickham."
Georgiana's spoon clattered against her bowl. The girl's face had turned pale and her lips trembled. Elizabeth felt guilty that she was causing her sister-in-law so much discomfort. Georgiana did not seem the sort of girl who had to deal with conflict often. As much as she hated to see her so uncomfortable, Elizabeth felt she must continue.
"Mr. Wickham has related to me all that has passed between you and him. He has informed me of your cruelty."
"Hmm. What exactly has he told you?"
"Your father promised him a living. You denied it to him, leaving him penniless with no choice but to join the militia."
"You certainly take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns."
"Anyone who knows of his misfortunes cannot help but feel an interest in him."
"If you'll…if you'll excuse me," Georgiana murmured, quickly leaving the table.
Laughing mirthlessly, Elizabeth added, "Everyone believes you are so honorable, so respectable. If they only knew your true character."
Standing up, Darcy replied, "It seems that you are set in your opinions and I can do nothing to convince you otherwise. If you'll excuse me, I must see to my sister."
"I must apologize for this morning." Elizabeth said to Georgiana as they took a stroll on the grounds of Pemberley. "I know that we upset you with our argument. In Meryton, I learned some disconcerting things about your brother. I should have waited until we were in private to discuss them with him."
The young woman looked uncomfortable. Drawing in a breath, she asked, "How well do you know Mr. Wickham?"
"Fairly well. In Meryton, we had many an opportunity to converse. He knows my family, has met my parents."
Georgiana nodded. "I see. What sort of man do you think he is?"
"He's very well-liked in town. Good-natured, friendly. He has very pleasant manners."
"Yes, he seemed that way to me too, but I found out differently. Elizabeth, may I…may I confide in you?"
Worried by Georgiana's tone, she replied, "Of course. Let's sit down on the bench over there."
Once seated, the other woman sat wringing her hands for a moment. Finally, she began, "About a year ago I was under the supervision of Mrs. Younge. During that time, I crossed paths with Mr. Wickham again. I was pleased to see him because I had always fancied him a little," she said, her voice trailing to a whisper. Gathering her courage, she continued, "He would visit me often and we became reacquainted. At one point, I thought I was in love with him. He asked me to marry him and I said yes. I wanted to tell Fitzwilliam, but he thought it better that we elope first. On the day, we were supposed to leave; my brother came for a visit. I could not lie to him so I told him everything. He became quite upset and called Mr. Wickham out. As you know, we are not married. Mr. Wickham did not return my feelings. My brother offered him a sum of money not to marry me and he took it." Georgiana stared at her hands. "It was very naïve of me to have believed that he could love me. Who knows where I would be now if my brother had not stepped in."
Elizabeth swallowed. Poor girl. She did not for one second doubt the validity of her story. Clasping her hand in her own, she squeezed it gently. She said, "Thank you for sharing with me. I know that it was difficult for you to do so."
"I do not want you to think ill of my brother. He is a good man and the best brother. And the other thing about my father's promise to Wickham. My brother would have honored it and let him earn a living at Pemberley, but Mr. Wickham chose to take the amount he would have earned instead. He mentioned he would use the money to study the law. As far as I know, he did not."
"No, no, he did not…I appreciate what you have told me. If you do not mind, I think I must process this information alone. It is quite a lot to take in."
Alone in her bedroom, Elizabeth sat down on her bed. Her eyes began to feel misty. She was being silly. She should have sensed Wickham's true character, but she had not. She had taken such a fancy to him that she ignored the clues as to what kind of person he truly was. Even her mother, an easily impressionable woman, had not taken a liking to him. Elizabeth cursed herself for her foolishness, for liking a man of such little character. On top of that, her conscience was gnawing at her for her treatment of Darcy this morning. How she hated being wrong!