AN: we travel north to Derbyshire and see how the revelations at Netherfield affect Mr Darcy. Never fear, we will catch up with the Bingley's and Bennet's in the next chapter.
Chapter Thirteen
Darcy finally sat in his carriage as it slowly made its way north. The sudden and unexpected departure from Netherfield meant the usual coach inns were not conveniently located. Nor had he sent an express rider ahead to arrange rooms. For a man who carefully considered and planned for every event, no matter the circumstance, it threw Darcy's staff into a dither. Clayton, the Master's loyal and long-time driver, indicated they would make better time taking the road north out of Meryton. He's discussed the route with Netherfield's stable master. Mr Harrow suggested joining the main road on the other side of Hatfield, rather than back tracking through St Albans to London. Happy to have a few miles shaved off their journey, Darcy agreed. It turned out to be both a blessing and curse.
They made good time to the first coaching inn, traveling thirty miles in the limited December daylight. The weather held. The Pig and Wheelbarrow appeared clean, the stables well maintained and the food filling. Darcy made a mental note to enhance the owner's custom by increasing the venues reputation among those he knew whom travelled this way. Clayton reported the horses had not been overtaxed and all appeared to be going well. The partry should make the remaining 90 miles in three days, arriving at Pemberley just before dusk, if the weather held.
Disaster struck on the second day. Around midday and fifteen miles from their intended Coaching Inn, a place Darcy had utilized many times before, a rut in the road led to a loud crack under the passengers. Calling a halt, Clayton looked the carriage over, only to return to his master with a deep frown.
"The axel's splintered," he determined. "I'll unhitch the horses, and send young Daniels to the nearest village for a wheel smith."
Nodding, Darcy requested his own steed untied from the back. "I will accompany Daniels and arrange lodgings. This will not be fixed today."
"Aye," Clayton agreed sadly, "that be the truth, Sir. Maybe tomorrow, if there be a wheel smith available. Might have to be a blacksmith and that could take longer. Perhaps a hired coach?"
"Not unless there is no alternative," Darcy sighed.
His valet, driver and the second outrider stayed with the coach after they'd moved it to the side of the road and unhitched all the horses. The animals happily picked at the grass daring to push above the snow. Three miles down the road, they came across a market town. Pleased, Darcy knew he would be able to arranged lodging, meals and respite for his party. He also enquired after hiring a coach until his could be fixed, only to find none available.
"Have you managed to locate a wheel smith?" Darcy requested when he met up with the outrider.
"Afraid not, Sir," young Daniels offered with a smile. "I found the blacksmith. He said the axil should be in place by noon tomorrow. He's sent out the apprentice with a cart to fetch the others and take a look. Said he'll come find you if it's worse than we thought. The stable master recommended him."
Nodding, Darcy sighed. He really didn't want to be trapped in this town and lose at least a day's travel. Yet, it gave him the opportunity to determine their best route and plan where they would stay. By the time Clayton arrived with the other servants and coach, he'd penned notes to the regular Inn's, sent them off by express and seen to his horse. The elderly driver stood and observed his charges being feed and watered.
"Mr Darcy," Clayton nodded, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips. Sables that met the man's expectations were few and far between.
"Let us hope the weather holds," Darcy responded.
It did, but not for the entity of their journey. Three days later the heavens opened, followed by a sudden cold snap that brought snow. Detaining the party twenty miles from Pemberley, the thoughts Darcy held back began to force their way into his conscious mind. Remarking to Bingley he hoisted himself on his own petard, it seemed he's given Georgiana no more chance to avoid becoming entangled with Wickham, than Miss Bingley overspending her allowance and draining the family coffers. The parallels were a revelation.
Had I only told her of that worthless rake's history in a way that could be understood by a child, Darcy berated himself, then she might have been prepared. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst's overindulgence had been fostered by their father's wish to see them well married. They believed themselves preparing for a life of wealth and connection. How is any woman to survive in society with the strictures placed upon them when we men hold them to such naivety? How are they to know what to look for when we men are taught they are such delicate creatures and their reputations even more fragile? When we cloister them and keep them ignorant? When we do not tell them how to distinguish the great evils veiled by so many in a society we deem civilised?
If only I had taken my own advice, Darcy reprimanded himself once again. If only….Georgiana would not have been taken in by a rake and swindler. I encouraged Bingley to tell his sisters the truth so they might make changes to safeguard their family name and reputation. Yet, the damage is done. And I did the same to my dearest sister. How could she have known about Wickham's profligate ways. Yet how could I tell her and maintain her artlessness. A young woman should not know of the acts encumbered upon a married woman, or consequences of anticipating wedding vows or that there are men who would encourage such behaviour. Nor should she be aware that there are evil people in this world, ready and willing to take advantage of her. Surviving society is abhorrent for a man of means and connection with full knowledge of how easily they can be trapped into a lifelong commitment not of their choosing. How am I to keep my young sibling from the ravages of men such as Wickham without informing her of the danger and maintaining her virtue?
The argument chased itself around in Darcy's head almost every waking moment as the party continued North. Keeping to himself throughout their journey, the scowl worn on his countenance let his servants know the Master wrestled with a heavy burden. The completed journey ended up taking a week, where it should have taken half the time. The delay gave Darcy pause to consider exactly how to approach his sister with his revelations caused by the events at Netherfield. He was no closer to a resolution when the carriage pulled up before his beloved home late on the seventh day of travel.
One look at her brother and Georgiana knew he had much on his mind. Encouraging him to take all the time he required to refresh after such a long journey, she awaited Fitzwilliam in the Yellow drawing room. Contemplating his continuing displeasure, Miss Darcy believed her brother's mood to be caused by her inexcusable behaviour with Mr Wickham.
"Tea?" she asked quietly, so as not to disturbed the lion currently sitting comfortably in his favorited chair by a blazing fire.
"Yes," Darcy answered, his mind still struggling with the words he needed to say. Sighing heavily, he took the cup, drained it, even though the heat scolded his tongue. Launching himself from the seat, for once the words he wanted to say came naturally. "I have done you a great disservice."
"No, Brother, it is I…." the glare levelled her way stopped Georgiana's lips from forming the words.
Holding out a hand as an offer of peace, Darcy tried again. "Please, allow me to say my piece, then we shall discuss blame, not that there is any to be apportioned. I have done you a great disservice, but society would not have me behave any other way. I did not tell you of George Wickham's propensity to lie, cheat and deceive. Please be easy. I do not bring that scoundrels name up lightly when I know how it affects you. We shall not rehash the past. I could not tell you about his evil deeds for our father held him in the highest esteem until the day he passed. I did not tell father of his wickedness, believing it for the best. The fault in this is my own, but it is done. I considered the omission for the best. However, the events of last summer have finally shown me the error of my ways."
Once the dam had been unleased, Darcy continued to speak eloquently for an hour. Everything he held back came forth. His language tempered to the ears of a sixteen-year-old girl only recently out of the school room and having experienced a disappointment of the most acute kind. Darcy explained the constant attempts to compromise his honour. How women of the Ton looked to his connections and wealth without consideration for his person. Darcy implied others garnered his friendship for their own selfish reasons. He explained the vicious undertones of the first circles that would catch the unaware in its tangled web.
"I tell you this against the expectation of society so you might better protect yourself," Darcy finished, exhausted by the prolonged outburst.
"I do not know what to say," Georgiana noticed how much effort it took her brother to remain awake. Needing time to consider all that she had heard, the young woman straightened her spine. It seems, she considered, I shall need to practice before my come out if even one iota of this is true, and it must be for my brother never exaggerates. He is spent. I shall send a tray to his room tonight while I considered everything I have heard. Perhaps, in the morning I will be able to ask questions.
"I should not have said anything," Darcy suddenly felt remorse, unburdening himself in such a fashion.
"We will speak more in the morning," Georgiana stood. Nodding her head as if she's made some internal decision, Darcy watched on in fascination. "You shall retire, Brother, for you are more asleep than awake. I will have a tray sent up and close the house early. You may join me in the small breakfast room at nine to break our fast. I shall have much to ask after a good night's sleep."
Indicating his agreement, Darcy realised too late he had opened Pandora's box. Over the next weeks, the siblings started a new tradition. They broke their fast together, dismissing all the servants so their words might not be overheard. Georgiana Darcy's understanding of the world increased in a meaningful, but not sordid way. Careful to tell the truth, but walking a tightrope between what his young sister ought to know and what was socially acceptable, Darcy educated her to the best of his ability.
"So," Georgiana questioned one morning, "there is no lady in town whom you wish to make Mrs Darcy? What will happen to Pemberley if you do not beget a son?"
"I do not know," Darcy frowned. These discussions proved as eye opening for the Master as his young sibling. "Perhaps I shall leave the estate to your eldest son."
"And what makes you believe I shall marry?" Georgiana asked. "After all you have experienced, I am not sure I wish to make my come out. I….I do not…that is…" Pausing to consider her words, she sighed. Once again straighten her spine, she stated "I do not want to make the same mistake again."
For the first time in weeks, Darcy found himself smiling. "I do not believe you will do so, for I shall be at your side as you navigate your season."
Giving her brother a piercing gaze, Georgiana Darcy finally had the opening she needed. "Tell me of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You mentioned her thrice in your letters from Netherfield."
"I did," shocked, Darcy attempted to recall the entries in his weekly correspondence with his sister. "It is of little import," Fitzwilliam's tone turned frosty, "for Miss Elizabeth is not of our sphere."
"So, society would not approve of a match," Georgiana asked. Hiding her smirk behind a teacup as her brother's expression communicated his thoughts, she understood him completely. "Yet, you go against society's strictures and tell me of the troubles you have had finding a lady to marry whom matches the Darcy's in wealth and connections. Would it not be beneficial to be happy and occasionally brave a society that you do not care for, rather than suffer in an unhappy arrangement."
"You do not understand," Darcy stated.
"Then tell me what I do not understand," Georgiana challenged, "or how am I to guard against admiring someone who is unworthy of our family connection?"
Stupefied, Darcy had to think long and hard, for every time they broached the subject, Georgiana displayed how well she had listened to her brother. Every argument he offered, she countered, demurely, sensibly and with only the very best intentions for her brother's welfare. Finally, his objections seemed inconsequential when compared to the great treasure that could be gained, even if it meant going against societies expectations.
"Why," Georgiana offered when it seemed she had finally won the point, "should Miss Bingley believe herself able to improve her connections by marrying into wealth, if a man cannot choose such a bride." Before her brother could answer, Miss Darcy indicated she was not finished. "I understand it would be much spoken of, that the Bridegrooms family reputation would be tarnished. Possibly even his sister's marriage prospects diminished. Yet, would you really wish your sister to marry to increase wealth and connection, or for respect and affection?"
The end of February brought warmer weather. Brother and sister continued their breakfast routine, learning more of each other. They often rode Pemberley in the brisk mornings, continuing to improve their understanding of the world. Throughout the winter Georgiana, carefully planned a campaign with Mrs Annesley. She wished the opportunity to be introduced to Miss Elizabeth. The first step involved an invitation to Netherfield. However, on this topic Darcy would not be swayed.
"Bingley," Darcy had not revealed his friends financial position, "has his own troubles. I will not impose upon Netherfield while he puts his house in order."
"Will you not tell me of Mr Bingley?" Georgiana asked, intrigued. Darcy gave in, using Bingley's situation as a cautionary tale. Hearing of his near ruin, it seemed she had many more questions about society and how a woman could aid in maintaining her family's wealth. "I wish to know of Mrs Hurst and the alteration in her countenance. Can you tell me how it came about?"
"I truly do not know," Darcy recalled the events leading to a change of Mistress at Netherfield. "Perhaps it has always been hiding beneath Miss Bingley's abrasive personality. When Miss Bingley refused to do her duty, Mrs Hurst simply stepped into the breach."
"It is such a pity we cannot go to Netherfield," Georgiana sighed as she fingered several keys on the pianoforte later the same evening, "for I believe I should like a lady such as Miss Elizabeth for a sister."
"Whatever gave you the idea that Miss Elizabeth would be an appropriate sister?" Darcy asked, perplexed. They had not spoken of the woman in weeks. Indeed, he considered the topic closed.
"I should love for my sister to walk three mile in mud to attend to my sick room. Society might not deem such behaviour lady like," Georgiana stated wistfully, "but I think it the most faithful demonstration of kindness and affection."
Hiding behind his book, Darcy immediately recalled the passage in his letter. His sister had used his own words to great effect. Forced to reconsider everything society deemed appropriate once again, Fitzwilliam and Georgiana found themselves in the family coach on the way to Netherfield on the first of March. It seemed Bingley wanted to display the changes in his family situation. His response to Darcy's letter indicating they would be available to stay for some weeks on the way to Rosings Park contained not one ink blot or slurred word, which demonstrated more about the Master of Netherfield's growth than the message it contained.