Chapter 3

"I am not sure where to begin," Georgiana said. She rubbed her hands down the length of her skirt. Why did her mouth feel so dry?

"Perhaps you should start at the beginning?" Elizabeth offered.

Georgiana took a deep breath and began, "Well, it is probably important to explain that I am an orphan." Georgiana perceived the shift in Miss Bennet's expression. She quickly added, "Please do not fret. I have two wonderful guardians and am extremely happy with my life. I mention that my parents are gone because it has a bearing on my tale." Georgiana closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind before continuing. "My elder brother is one of my guardians, and when I was very young, he had a close friend named George." She paused and withdrew into her memories. Then, as if to herself, she added in a quiet voice, "Actually, George and his family were very close to my entire family, although we were not part of the same social class."

Elizabeth nodded. "I do not wish to jump to assumptions, but your apparel is extremely fashionable. Am I correct that you come from a prominent family?"

Georgiana's focus returned and she blush. She offered a brief nod to inform Elizabeth that she had guessed correctly. "And George's father worked for my father. As a child, I adored him. He was charming, funny, and mischievous. In the eyes of all those living on my family's estate, he could do no wrong." A small smile fell on Georgiana's lips as the happy memories of her youth swept through her mind. The fire made a loud pop, startling both women and prompting Georgiana to continue. "But then George left with my brother for school and something changed. At first, there were small changes, which I was able to ignore. My brother mentioned George less and less in his correspondence, and when his name was mentioned my brother did not write with the same warmth he once had. But it was when they returned for holiday that I knew something was wrong." Georgiana pulled the shawl around her more tightly. It was not providing warmth, but it did provide comfort. "My brother was holding George at a distance. He looked at him differently. Something had changed. I had nearly built up the courage to ask why, when my father took ill. After that, nothing other than my father's health seemed to matter."

"I have recently lost my father and understand completely how difficult it is." Elizabeth said, searching her pockets for the handkerchief her aunt had leant her. She sniffled a little and one hand brought the handkerchief to her nose.

"Thank you," Georgiana replied. The look in Miss Bennet's eyes displayed such raw pain, Georgiana could not help but reach across the divide and take the hand that still lay in Elizabeth's lap. "The pain will lessen, I promise. Although it may never disappear entirely."

Elizabeth looked from the girl's hand up into her face. The smile she gave spoke volumes to the gratitude she felt.

Georgiana continued. "After my father's death, George disappeared. I felt so abandoned. He was like a brother to me. To lose him so soon after losing my father — well, the grief was overwhelming."

Elizabeth nodded. "I understand exactly what you mean," her voice quivered. "After my father's death, our family's estate passed to a man who had a long running feud with my father." Elizabeth took a jagged breath and looked away. "This man used the opportunity of my father's death to take revenge upon my family," she continued. "We were immediately turned out of our home and had to seek help from our remaining relatives. Three of us stayed with family in London while three remained with family in Meryton." Elizabeth dried the tears that had started to flow. "It is so hard to lose the support of your loved ones after the death of one's parent."

Georgiana squeezed the hand she had been holding. "I am so sorry. If there is anything I can do…"

"Actually," Elizabeth said, "please continue your story. I find listening restorative."

Georgiana closed her eyes and then opened them and looked into the fire. "I did not see or hear from George until two months ago. My companion, Mrs. Younge, gave me a letter. She had met my childhood friend while visiting London. In this letter, he claimed that he had always loved me and had confessed his feelings to my brother while they were at school together. He said my brother became enraged because he did not deem a mere son of a steward worthy of me. He went on to claim that he had been cheated out of a small inheritance my father had intended for him because of my brother's pride, arrogance, and indignation."

Elizabeth's mouth fell open and she touched her throat. "Did you not say your brother was a wonderful guardian? How can you reconcile such very different accounts?"

"I cannot. I wrote back to George and after some correspondence, we agreed to meet in person. Mrs. Younge made the necessary arrangements. I hoped to ask him to better explain my brother's words and actions, for I was certain there had been a misunderstanding." Georgiana heart felt heavy. Relaying the events of the last few months was making her feel less nervous, but it began to dawn on her that her actions were not entirely proper. Had she really written to a single gentleman so freely? It had felt so innocent at the time. She had thought him as a second brother. But he had he not said he was in love with her? How could she act so inappropriately to a man who had confessed such passion?

Elizabeth blinked. The pain in her features seemed to receded only to be replaced with puzzlement. "Why had you not asked your brother to explain?"

Georgiana sighed. Her head dropped and shoulders slouched. "I wish I had." She lifted her head and looked in a Elizabeth's direction, "I very nearly went to my brother immediately. But George asked me not to, and Mrs. Younge convinced me he was unlikely to give me any answers." Georgia released Elizabeth's hand, and as soon as they were reunited, her hands began wringing themselves together. "My brother is a very private person and he is currently very occupied with his own troubles. I decided it would be best to first meet with George and hear him out. If his account of events was insufficient for me to pinpoint the source of the misunderstanding, then I would speak to my brother." Georgiana's gaze focused on something behind Elizabeth. She sat up straight, her hands stopped fidgeting, and she put on a small smile.

Elizabeth shifted in her seat and looked over her shoulder. There stood the shop keeper. "I hope you ladies are warming up. The boy came back. Said he could not find a cab on the streets. Shall I sent him over to the livery? They offer this service but charge more than those on the street."

"That would be lovely," Elizabeth replied.

The store keeper nodded and walked away. Elizabeth stood up and walked to the fireplace. She took a poker and rearranged the logs. Sparks scattered about like fireflies fleeing from the flames. She turned around and looked at Miss Darcy.

"I have four sisters. The bond we have can never be broken. You have said your brother is wonderful. If he truly is — speak to him first. Your parents made him your guardian because they trusted him to have your best interest at heart. You know him far better than you do a childhood friend who has been gone for years."

Georgiana again sank into her seat, "It may be too late for that. I came here to Ramsgate to meet with George. We were to meet today. That is why I was outside. I hadn't dressed appropriately for the weather because it all happened so suddenly. Mrs. Younge came in and told me George had sent her word that he needed to see me immediately — alone. There was a cab waiting out front. I went inside thinking he would be in there, but instead the cab took me to the street where you found me. I was there but a few minutes when I met you. And, here we are," Georgiana gestured to their surroundings. "Standing out there, alone, in a strange city — it frightened me. I do care for George. I always have. But his actions, the secrecy — it makes me feel nervous. I feel as if danger lurks around the corner. But why should I fear George or Mrs. Younge?"

Elizabeth returned to her seat. "Tomorrow I begin my post as a companion to Mrs. Ruth Parker. I have been told she is a lonely, older woman. I was hired because she knows so few people and simply wants company. I am certain she would appreciate a social visit should you be willing. I shall give you her address, and if you come by, perhaps you can tell us stories of George from your childhood." Elizabeth looked around the room for something to write with. "Maybe there is more to George than the sweet boy you remember. If you bring Mrs. Younge when you come to visit, I can see how she reacts to these tales. I will try to judge her character. She will not view me as anything other than a servant, and if she has a darker side, she will likely expose it most easily to me. It is rare to feel as you describe unless there is an underlying reason."

"Thank you," Georgiana said. "Speaking to you has brought me more comfort than I have felt these last two months."

The streets of London were deserted. The pounding rain had forced even the street urchins to find shelter. The thick clouds held the sun's rays at bay, and had the church bells not chimed, he could have been forgive for assuming it was the dead of night. But he cared not what time it was and did not listen to the bells. He had more pressing matters to attend.

His steed rode swiftly. The two moved so fluidly together, they could almost be mistaken for a centaur. The heat from the hard ride kept both rider and horse warm. At last he reached the great house and slid from the saddle with grace and ease. The exertion from his ride did not delay his pace, for he flew up the front steps as if in a single motion and rapped urgently on the door.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam," Mrs. Reynolds greeted in alarm. "You will catch your death being out in this weather." She moved aside and waived the young man in. "Wait in the parlor by the fire. I will find him and let him know you are here."

She hurried away while the colonel removed his outerwear, hoping to contain the puddle slipping off him. Once in the parlor he attempted to sit near the fire but found his legs needed him to move. Nervously he paced the length of the room while keeping one eye firmly on the clock near the French doors. After five minutes or so, his cousin opened to doors and entered.

"Richard," Fitzwilliam Darcy greeted warmly. He walked toward his guest with an outstretched arm. "May I offer you…" Darcy fell silent once he was near enough to see his cousin's expression in the faint glow of the fire. "What has happened?"

"It's Georgiana, and there isn't much time." Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam reached into his coat and pulled out a letter. He handed it to Darcy who had paused at the thought of his beloved sister in the path of danger.

Dear Colonel Fitzwilliam,

It is only the strongest of concerns that compels me to take the unusual step of penning this letter. I had the privilege of establishing an acquaintance with your ward, Miss Georgiana Darcy, in recent weeks. She is a charming and kind young woman who reminds me of my own dear sister. I have recently discovered she also maintains a friendship with a man by the name of Mr. George Wickham. I know little of Mr. Wickham's character through direct interact, but have heard rumors and have grave concerns. I have reason to fear Miss Darcy may be the target of this man's affection and felt you had a right to be made aware of the situation.

Sincerely,

Miss Elizabeth Bennet

Darcy's face grew ashen and he slumped into a nearby arm chair. "Who is Miss Bennet?"

"I do not know. This, in fact, has caused me even further concern," Richard answered.

"A complete stranger sent you a letter?" Darcy asked with alarm.

"Yes, but we cannot dismiss her warning out of hand simply because we do not know her."

"No. Of course not. Had I any notion Wickham was nearby, I would have remained by my sister's side both night and day. I do not know if Miss Bennet is to be trusted, but I certainly feel a visit to Georgiana is in order. We should be off to Ramsgate at once."

Darcy stood from his seat. "Where are you going?" Richard asked.

"To have someone ready my horse and get changed."