You are all so awesome. I do read every review even if I am not responding to any of them these days. I am sure at some point I will get back to responding, but please know that I am so excited when they pop up. I hope even better than receiving a response is getting the next chapter.


25. Helping for Their Sake

I looked Darcy straight in the eye and declared, "How easily you cast everyone else you hold dear asunder, sacrifice your sister's very happiness away to forward your own. I should let you occupy the bed that you have made. I see no reason to care about what may befall you now, to care about your fate; why should I when the man I thought of as a brother, who has been far closer to me than my own, treats me worse than a stranger would?"

Darcy's face remained bland, but I could see that he was not as unaffected by my words as he wished. For there were minute changes to his expression that someone who did not know him as well as I would never notice. He flinched slightly when I spoke of his betrayal, his bottom lip pulled in and tightened just smidge or so when I said he treated me worse than a stranger. Although I longed to see an expression of remorse upon his face, I knew it would not happen, for Darcy was too proud to truly admit any error in his actions, any distress over the alteration in our relationship. After all, he had gotten what he wanted.

"I regret that you feel that way," Darcy replied, confirming to me that he could not, would not apologize for any of it. I feared for Mrs. Darcy then, married to such a heartless man.

I explained, "I only take any action now because I care too much for Georgiana, and would see you wife as content as can be possible with her married to you. I understand you married as soon as it could be arranged and planned to flee to Pemberley before any in London even knew the deed was done. I can see the appeal for you to have your wife all to yourself, isolated from everyone she knows, fully dependent on you for every bit of joy, but taking such a step will make things far worse for both Mrs. Darcy and Georgiana. You may not care for their reputations but I do.

"I believe more can be salvaged if you seek my mother's support, for your abandoning of Georgiana now will only confirm that all the rumors concerning the Bennet family are true. It will tell them that your sister cannot be trusted in your wife's presence. The bon ton will embroider on the truth to make your very wife a Cyprian who captured you with her womanly wiles and if a child should come nine months from now, they will forget the date of your wedding announcement and imagine she was enciente before you wed.

"Furthermore, this plan to not see Georgiana until she marries could result in a lifetime of misery for her. For in hopes of reuniting with you, this may make your sister to rush to the altar instead of enjoying her girlhood, and then some time being out without having to seek a spouse. If she marries in haste as you have done, she may regret at her leisure. The sympathetic suitor who promises to reunite her with her brother may become the spouse who leaves her at some country house while he carouses in town, spending her dowry to satisfy his appetites."

As I spoke, Darcy slumped while his face remained expressionless. It appeared to me he had not even stopped to consider how things would look. For a man who prided himself on his intellect, he likely did not appreciate having his foolishness be pointed out by me.

"But we planned to leave today," he declared and I thought a detected a bit of whinging in his tone before he justified further, "That is what Elizabeth wanted."

"Is it, truly? Did you ever offer to take her about town, introduce her to your family here, let her see her own family that resides in London (you may not have been listening a year ago, but I recall she has a beloved aunt, uncle and cousins living here) or just let her know without saying as much that you planned to keep her locked in the house? If she was choosing between prisons, yes Pemberley is superior to London, but better yet to not confine her in either cell."

"Do you believe the Countess could and would help?" Darcy finally seemed to understand.

"Yes, especially for a tale of romantic love. Be prepared, though, she shall be easier to sway than Father. He shall have no hesitation of telling you how poorly you have chosen, that you should have assigned Miss Bennet to a different role. If you are fortunate he will save his viperous comments for the separation, and not say anything before her, but you should prepare her for the possibility that he shall not resist venting his spleen at her. To gain either's aid (although my mother's shall be key to diverting the gossip), you will have to be willing to admit you acted precipitously, humble yourself enough to ask for help, be a supplicant rather than demand to get your own way.

"Do not fear, I shall tell them nothing of my own shattered hopes," I felt bitter even speaking of them, had to swallow hard to go on, "for I shall not wish to make things even more difficult than they need be. Given that I had thought of how I would approach them for assistance should Miss Bennet accept my suit, I do believe it can be done.

"Do not leave town, instead plan on coming and dining with them today, you and your wife. I shall talk to them first and do what I can to get you invited. If they shall receive you, host you both for dinner, that will be the first step."

Darcy nodded and then held out his hand to shake my own. I hesitated to take it, but finally shook it. Was it not apt to treat him more like a business associate than friend? I might still wish I could punch him in the nose, but I would not do it, for Georgiana's and Mrs. Darcy's sakes.

"So you will do it?" I asked.

"I shall; that is if Elizabeth is agreeable to this change of plans."

"Maybe there is some hope for you yet," I allowed. "If we are done here now, why do you not go ask her?"

We found the women before the piano forte. Georgiana was engrossed in showing her new sister how to finger a difficult part of a song. While Mrs. Darcy noticed our presence right away, meeting our eyes and giving a nod, Georgiana continued her instruction single-mindedly and Elizabeth was obliged to try to play the measure as instructed.

"Much better, Elizabeth," Georgiana said. "Now do you think you will remember that? It shall make that part so much easier, but we've so little time . . ."

"I think our time has run out, little sister," Mrs. Darcy said, "for your brother and cousin are here."

"Oh!" Georgiana squeaked out. Her face dropped. "Oh, we were having such a marvelous time. Elizabeth is a jolly good older sister, the best a girl could have. Surely you need not depart for Pemberley just yet." She grabbed Mrs. Darcy's arm and I saw how Darcy glowered in seeing himself replaced in being foremost in his sister's heart by his wife in less than half an hour. However, Georgiana was oblivious to it all.

Mrs. Darcy replied in an even, measured tone, "If you wish us to stay, you must appeal to your brother. I dare say he may have been unhappy with the delay, but I would happily remain longer."

Georgiana then begged her brother, turning toward him while still clinging to Mrs. Darcy, "Fitz, surely another hour's delay should be of no account, truly. I need to fit in as many memories as possible before . . ." Her bottom lip trembled and she seemed on the verge of tears.

When Darcy did not answer right away, she turned toward me, "Richard, you'll convince Fitz, will you not? Just a little more time."

Darcy replied, "We will not leave today, but you and Fitzwilliam must return to his parents' home. Fitzwilliam hopes to convince his parents to invite us to dinner."

Georgiana sprang up from the piano bench and lept at me, hugging me tight. I tentatively returned her hug. "Oh thank you, thank you Richard."

She let me go and flung her arms around her brother. "Thank you Fitz."

There were many extended goodbyes and Georgiana would not consent to leave until her brother reassured her that even if the hoped for dinner invitation was not made, he and Mrs. Darcy would not leave without seeing her again.

On the carriage ride home, Georgiana could speak of nothing but Elizabeth and how pleased she was with her new sister. Just before we stepped out, she told me "Oh how kind you are Richard, to forgive Fitz."

At this I had to correct her. "What I am trying to accomplish through my mother has naught to do with your brother. I do not know that I can ever forgive him, and indeed he has not sought my forgiveness. Instead, I have only thought of yours and Mrs. Darcy's happiness."

Georgiana looked at me with the confidence that only the young, the innocent, the sheltered can possess. She lay a hand upon my arm and declared, "I am sure you will forgive him in time. While I can certainly understand why you fell for Elizabeth, why my brother did as well, she was not the right woman for you, for if she were, she would have never married Fitz. But that does not mean that there is no one for you, just that you have not met your perfect match yet. When you meet the woman who will love only you, when you fall in love (truly fall in love), you will understand all that Fitz did, be able to forgive. True love may be rare, but I believe it shall be yours."

As a man made old before his time with the burdens of war, having seen all the ugliness that man can possess, I certainly did not possess the hope that my young cousin had. At that time I had quite given up on romantic love being the answer to everything. There is much I have done for love over the years, but it has been for love of king and country, love of my fellow man, love of justice and righteousness, love toward others as shown by putting their needs above my own as best as may be. The actions I had just taken and planned to take to help Georgiana and Mrs. Darcy were done with love also, for they were both my cousins now.

But in all these acts of love, it was I who paid the price, I who bore the burdens, I who acted as if all were well when all I wanted to do was rant and rave at the unfairness of it all. I though then of the other Elizabeth, how she had been made to paid for a man's unwillingness to be denied, how he robbed from her and yet afterwards he was able to enjoy his life just as before.

Two years prior, some seven years after arranging for her rescue, I had seen that Elizabeth at one ball, and when I recognized her, my eyes sought her out again and again. I did not plan to make myself known to her, suspected she would rather have no reminders of that part of her life. I observed that she looked better, calmer, every bit a dignified lady, but there was a wildness about her eyes, which darted around, a tightness to her shoulders that revealed she was not at ease. The source of her discomfort soon became clear.

A man by the name of Phineas Trent, a friend of my brother's, one that I had never liked for his casual cruelness (I had seen him kick a sleeping cat in our stables for his own amusement, whip a horse to force a slight increase of speed beyond its normal capacity), grabbed Elizabeth by the arm and she flinched mightily. She was perhaps twenty paces away, far too far for me to hear their exchange in the crowded ballroom, with the music and conversation. I started weaving my way toward her, but my progress was slow in the crush. Before I could reach her, another man who by the cast of his features seemed to be a relative of hers (my mind supplied "brother," recalled her speaking of him). He pulled the first man's hand from his sister's arm. They had words, and then the brother and sister left the area before I had made it half the distance to them.

I continued to make my way toward where Trent stood, and was able to hear some comments about what had just happened. "What were you doing bothering with Miss -?" a man asked Trent. "She's a cold old maid."

Another man commented, "Were you trying to rile up Mr. -? He is very protective of her."

Trent defended, "I just wanted a dance, for old times sake. It is not like she has any better offers."

The first man replied, "A pity, that. She was a looker when she was young. You were courting her once, Trent, were you not?"

Trent snorted, and with feigned indifference declared "Once I had hopes of getting at her ample," he cupped his hands and leered at her imagined assets, "dowry. But I soon decided twas not worth it."

The second man said, "You are just bitter that she turned you down, have sour grapes."

Trent shrugged. "If she did not want to dance, she should not have come to a ball."

I moved on then, reassured that even if Trent was her attacker, and the one who sold her away, that any news of her shame did not appear to be widespread. However, while Miss - remained present at the ball (which was not for very long after that, for she and her brother sought out the hosts to make their regrets and then left straight away), I made sure that Trent never came near them again. About ten minutes later I departed myself, as I was in no mood for merriment.

Here again, in the situation with Darcy, it was the women who would pay the price for the evil of men. However, I would not allow it. I would step into the brink no matter the cost, just as I had before. If I could not be husband to the former Miss Bennet, I would be as a brother to her.