Page 19 of Her Brother's Keeper
“Before you tell me anything, dear girl, there are some things I must tell you. The very first thing is that you are my favourite person in the whole world. You know that, do you not?”
She smiled gleefully. “I do know it. And soon there will be more favourites for you to love! I?—”
He had squeezed her hand. “Please let me finish, dearest. The second thing is something I have told you before, but perhaps not clearly enough. Remember what I said about men who might wish only for your fortune? You do remember that you are a very wealthy young lady?”
“Oh, yes, but I have news that is?—”
“Do you recall about this time last year, when you asked me why I was so sad, and I told you it was because someone who Papa once loved had wasted all the considerable money left to him in Papa’s will on gambling and riotous living?”
At long last, she seemed to realise that something was wrong.
“Riotous,” she said slowly. “Behaving in a disorderly manner. You would not explain further.”
He had nodded. “I ought to have told you more. I forget sometimes that you are no longer a child. By riotous living, I meant that this man spent all of Papa’s money on gambling, on wine and strong drink, and in…in sinful behaviour with females to whom he was not wed. I ought to have told you the man’s name. I am so sorry I did not. His name was—is—George Wickham.”
He could not forget her looking up at him with tragic eyes, clinging to shreds of hope. “Perhaps…perhaps he learnt his lesson? And is deserving of a second chance?”
Darcy shook his head. “I have discovered that your—that Mrs Younge is a friend of his. She admitted to me that he promised to pay her a thousand pounds from your settlement in exchange for allowing his courtship and facilitating your elopement. It was planned before he ever renewed the acquaintance with you. She is already removed from this home.”
Her large eyes drooped, her chin fell. She was not simple-minded or stupid, just incredibly…naïve, perhaps more so than any young lady he had ever met.
“So you know. Not a surprise, after all.”
“Elopement, Georgiana?” It had hurt, that she had planned such an awful, shameful thing. She knew better than this.
“George said…” she trailed off.
He tucked her under the shelter of his arm, relieved when she laid her head upon his shoulder.
“Tell me what he said,” he had ordered, but in as gentle a tone as he could force his voice.
“That you would be surprised and happy to learn he was to be your brother. I did not wish to elope, not really. I was so happy to see you, to be able to tell you in person. But I did not believe George could be wrong about something soimportant. I should have known someone like him was not for me.”
“You are a better person than he will ever be.”
She had not replied; he had only been able to hold her for the longest while, her tears soaking his jacket front while her heart broke.
Darcy’s jaw firmed as he shook off the memory; he owed his sister the very best future she could possibly have. He opened her letter.
Seventeen
A TEMPTING OFFER
Bingley was in a much more jovial frame by the time Darcy joined the others for dinner; Mr Jones had pronounced Miss Bennet on the mend. As for Darcy, he, too, was feeling something akin to relief. Not happiness, no; purely a knowledge that he had seen his duty and taken it up, as a man ought.
The letter his sister had sent had been full of longing for her brother, for the comfort of family. She had begged him to come home, and the answer to his dilemma had been so obvious, he had known it immediately.
He would bring Georgiana to Netherfield. He need only ensure that Forster had already removed Wickham, eliminating any reason why she should not come.
Had he not gone to Netherfield with this idea in the back of his mind—arranging a good marriage for her with the finest possible bridegroom? He could not allow the best man for Georgiana to be given to a girl who would doubtless have other opportunities to meet eligible gentlemen. Bingley was a kind young man, a genuinely loyal man, and a close friend—the only one whom Darcy felt he could trust with his sister, yet persuade to overlook such faults as Georgiana possessed in favour of a family connexion. He knew his sister’s imperfections, but she was so very dear. He had comforted and cared for her after their mother died when she was but five years old; he had played with her those childish games of puzzles and hide-and-seek, and cherished the sweet, innocent letters from her which had warmed his heart all of his life. He could not abandon her now, not for a selfish lust…or even an aching need.
It was not ideal, not when Bingley was in the midst of a lust of his own. He knew Georgiana would never compare favourably side by side with Jane Bennet. But if there was one thing he understood, it was Bingley’s determination to advance his family name, to become the man his father had dreamt he would become. A marital connexion into the Darcy family would be the surest, quickest way to accomplish this.
Once the ladies had excused themselves from the table, the footmen dismissed, and he and Bingley were alone, he looked for an opportunity to broach the subject. It came more easily than he had hoped.
“You received a letter from your sister today, I hear. I hope she is well?” Bingley asked politely.
“Yes, quite well,” Darcy replied—no more than a mild prevarication, for her health was excellent, if not her frame of mind. “I have been thinking of her future a good deal of late.”
