Page 21 of Dear Friend

Richard nodded. “And afterwards?”

“I do not know.”

“You must engage someone new eventually.”

“I am aware of it.”

There was something in his tone which made Richard regard him more closely.

“You cannot suppose every woman who presents herself will prove another Mrs. Younge.”

“No.” Darcy gave a humourless breath. “But I supposed Mrs. Younge would not prove Mrs. Younge.”

Richard could offer little answer to that.

“I shall find someone,” Darcy continued after a moment. “But she must be older. A woman of established character, with sufficient sense and steadiness not to be drawn into another person’s schemes. Someone who may remain with Georgiana for more than a season.”

“And the references?”

“I shall verify them myself. In person, where it is possible. Every one of them.” Darcy returned to his chair. “I will not make the same error twice.”

“That seems wise enough.”

Richard watched him for another moment before his attention turned towards the greater concern.

“And Georgiana? How does she bear all this?”

Darcy rubbed a weary hand over his face. “She is ashamed.”

“She has little cause to be.”

“Try persuading her of it.” Darcy looked down at his hands. “She has scarcely ceased apologising since we left Ramsgate. She believes she has disappointed me beyond forgiveness.”

“And have you told her otherwise?”

“Repeatedly.”

“Then continue telling her.”

Darcy gave him a look of mild incredulity, as though Richard could not seriously suppose he had done otherwise.

Richard’s expression remained grave. “She is fifteen, Darcy. Whatever she believes she ought to have understood, Wickham knew her age and her inexperience when he approached her. Indeed, I imagine he depended upon both.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” Darcy’s eyes narrowed, but Richard did not retreat. “I have no doubt you have already told her what her actions might have cost the family. Nor do I deny that the consequences would have been dreadful. But she is ashamed enough already, Darcy. Take care that she does not begin to believe your anger is directed towards her.”

Darcy was silent. He had thought of it already, though perhaps not often enough. His anger had been difficult to govern since Ramsgate. Georgiana had seen it, however carefully he had attempted to conceal it, and a frightened girl might not distinguish between anger felt on her behalf and anger directed against her.

“She has been sorry every hour since it happened,” he said at last. “I believe her sincerely. But sorrow cannot be the end of it. She must understand enough of what occurred that she may never again be so easily deceived.”

“That may come later.”

Darcy looked towards him.

“When she can speak of the matter without trembling,” Richard added.

The rebuke was gently delivered, which made it considerably more difficult to dismiss.