Mr Darcy Requests the Pleasure Page 5
“I understand that Mr. Wickham was involved, and that you–” he swallowed, and a look of extreme distaste spread over his face– “in fact, to be to be blunt about it that you eloped with this man, but your brother, Mr. Darcy came after you and brought you home. He covered up the whole incident and so it has never been widely known. Can you tell me that this is not what happened? Some allowance can be made for your extreme youth, you were, I understand, fifteen at the time, but fifteen is old enough for your sense of morality to have prohibited any such fatal step.”
Shock gave way to dismay. How had he heard about this? How did he know about her and Wickham? “Where had you this story?”
“My source is impeccable, but I do not intend to tell you who told me about it.”
“It cannot have been my brother, he would never tell you such a story.”
Mr. Moresby pounced on this. “Indeed, he did not do so, and I take it ill that he did not do so. His care for you should not have precluded him being honest with me. I would not have expected it of him that he should treat me in this way.”
“Then I suggest you take it up with him, and I think you will find he gives you very short shrift.”
“He will protect you, you are his sister, although as a gentleman, supposedly a man of honour, he should not have deceived me.”
“I think the only person who is deceived you is whoever told you the story.”
“Do you deny it? Do you deny you went to Ramsgate that year, and that you and–”
“What happened in Ramsgate is something known only to me and Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham. I do not want to talk about it with you. You have leapt to judgement of me, you have not waited to hear my side of the story.”
He sounded exasperated, “Have I not? Pray, what am I doing now?”
“You are judging me. You have already judged me. You are asking why you were not told, not whether there was any truth in the story.”
“So you deny it?”
“I deny nothing. There is nothing to deny. You speak of trust and honour and deceitfulness and secrets. Your willingness to believe wrong of me on the word of another horrifies me. This is no foundation for a harmonious marriage.”
Chapter Twelve
She could say nothing more. She turned and hurried out of the library, managing to close the door behind her without giving it the slam that she longed to do. She paused in the hall pressing her cheeks, trying to drive the heat and colour out of them.
Elizabeth was coming through on her way to the ballroom, and she eyed Georgiana with concern. “My dear, what has happened? You look so distressed.”
“It is nothing,” Georgiana said, trying to restrain the tears that were starting to her eyes. “I have just had a difference of opinion with Mr. Moresby and I find it has upset me.”
Georgina went into the ballroom, pale, striving to compose herself. The musicians were striking up for the first dance, which she had promised to Mr. Moresby, but she would rather have sat outside in the cold than stand up with him now.
Elizabeth, her quick wits taking in Georgiana’s immediate problem, looked around, saw Colonel Hawkins and beckoned to him.
“Have you a partner for this dance, Colonel Hawkins? No? Then I am sure Georgiana will make you a suitable partner.”
He bowed, gave her a searching look as he took her hand and led her to take up her place. She was glad to dance. The music and the formal set patterns focused her mind and calmed her agitated spirits. Even so, questions thronged in her head. Who had spread such a wicked story? Mr. Moresby had refused to give the source of his information, why had he been so ready to believe it? Why had he not first asked her if anything had happened with Mr. Wickham rather than jumping to unwarranted conclusions as he had done?
She felt a blush rising up her neck at the memory of what he had said; no, she could not, must not show any perturbation of her spirits. Resolutely, she turned, crossed hands and came back down the dance again with Colonel Hawkins, smiling somewhat unconvincingly, but smiling.
Her thoughts were still in turmoil. Was this to be the pattern of their marriage, standing before a man while he dressed her down for some suspected misdemeanour or fault? Her brother had never addressed her in quite that way, and she did not believe for a moment that Mr. Darcy would dream of speaking to Elizabeth in such a tone.
The dances wound their way to a conclusion, she curtsied, Colonel Hawkins bowed and they went off the floor.
Her hand was claimed for the next couple of dances, and then for the next two after that. She smiled and said all the right things, watched her steps and found more relief in the movement and music.
Then, at last, it was the supper interval, only that brought its own problems. Georgiana had expected to go into supper with Mr. Moresby but there was no question of that now, she could not bring herself to speak to him, even if he sought her out. And there he was, going into supper with Caroline Bingley, wreathed in smiles, her hand on his arm.
She was rescued once more by Colonel Hawkins, who appeared beside her. “May I take you into the supper room, or are you waiting for Mr. Moresby?”
“I will be very glad if you would take me into supper, Colonel Hawkins. And no, I am not waiting for Mr. Moresby.”
Georgiana felt unable to eat anything, but was grateful when Colonel Hawkins brought her a glass of champagne. He didn’t comment upon her lack of appetite, but merely said that she was undoubtedly hot and perhaps a little tired after the dancing. “Would you prefer to be somewhere quieter for a while to recover from the exertions of dancing?”
Georgiana would, and she was touched when Colonel Hawkins asked if she wanted to be left alone, if she would like Elizabeth to come to her, did she feel unwell?
“Personal comments are rude, but I must tell you that you are rather pale. Shall I summon your maid?”
“Thank you, I need neither Elizabeth nor my maid. There is so much noise and movement at a ball I feel a little overwhelmed.”
That was untrue, and she sensed he knew it to be untrue, but she felt she needed to give an explanation for the state of her nerves.
He sat down beside her, in the most obliging way, and said he remembered her hiding after a particularly disgraceful exploit of her childhood, when she had tied the plaits of two visiting girls together and had run away to escape the just attentions of her governess.
“I found you lurking in the shrubbery, quite unrepentant, and we walked down to the river and raced sticks under the bridge. By the time they found you, you were in a much more equable mood and ready to apologise, although I do not believe for a moment that you felt in the least bit contrite about what you had done.”
Georgiana couldn’t help laughing. “I had quite forgotten that particular incident, I feel it was but one of many. I was not a well-behaved little girl.”
“Ah, see what the passing of the years has done, turned you into a poised and well-behaved young lady.”
Georgiana sighed and he looked at her thoughtfully.
Why she confided in him, she was never quite sure, but she said quite abruptly, “I’m in a scrape again, Colonel Hawkins, but I do not think that it is one that I will escape retribution for as I did over the incident of the tied plaits.”
“I cannot believe you have done anything so bad.”
“I haven’t. It is something from my past that has come back to bite me, as I think things in the past often do. We carry so much of our past into the present do we not, Colonel Hawkins?”
“The past can haunt us, but it is generally a good idea to let go of the past, I find. It is not a place in which we can actually exist, and so to live in it even in our minds is generally not healthy for us. Do you want to tell me about it? Can I be of any assistance? I am the model of discretion, and well-used to confidences from the men in my regiment who were so often in trouble of one kind or another.”
Georgiana took a deep breath and said, “It was an act of folly when I was fifteen. A version of what happened, has come to
Mr. Moresby’s ears, and this has been the occasion of a misunderstanding between us.”
“So you know the truth of it and he does not? Cannot you simply tell him what happened?”
Georgiana looked straight ahead of her. “I could, but I do not think he should accuse me. I do not think he should have believed what someone has said of me.”
Colonel Hawkins’ eyes never left her as he chose his words with care, “Mr. Moresby is a very upright man, with a strong moral sense. Perhaps men of his kind are rather inclined to find wrongdoing when none exists. It may be a result of his upbringing, perhaps of his temperament. However, in his situation, I would have made it my first intent to discover what truth if any there was in the story. If what he heard was hearsay, then he should have dismissed it.”
“How well you put it, you seem to understand him. He is a good man, but in this he errs.”
“Do not let him ride roughshod over you, Georgiana. You have too much of your family’s famous pride and spirit to be happy in such a situation. I think it is imperative before people are married that they come to agreement on the things that are important to them and as to the way they will go on.”
Georgiana had a very good idea what Mr. Moresby’s idea of how they would go on after they were married would be. He would rule the household with implacable righteousness and she would obey him in all things.
She thought fleetingly of her brother and Elizabeth’s marriage, where good humour prevailed and Elizabeth was always able to coax Mr. Darcy out of his darker moods. A happy marriage had tempered the rigidity of his pride and his reserve. Elizabeth would not allow herself to be ridden over roughshod, and indeed, Mr. Darcy would never attempt to do any such thing.
Colonel Hawkins had said one should not dwell on the past, but now, here, today, the past had come into the present such a vivid and terrible way.
Chapter Thirteen
Georgiana began to speak, at first with an effort, then more fluently. “I was sent to Ramsgate under the care of a Mrs. Younge –oh, how we were taken in by that woman– for the physician said that the sea air would do my lungs and system good. I was pulled down after a severe bout of influenza and easily tired, and I did feel my health improving from the sea air even though the seaside in such weather was a bleak place.
“Ramsgate was not an exciting resort and I had no particular acquaintances among those who were there for the summer. The smarter set had all gone to Brighton, there was nothing fashionable about Ramsgate. Oh, there were balls and parties and expeditions, but of a restrained kind, with an early finish to the assemblies.”
Why was she telling him this? She had never, from that day to this spoken of it to anyone. “And here I am, telling you, almost a stranger.”
“Almost, but not entirely. I knew you years ago, and I count your brother among my closest friends. You need have no fears that anything you tell me will go beyond these four walls.”
Impelled to continue, she said, “It was at the first assembly I attended that I met Mr. Wickham. I had not wanted to go. After all, I was not yet out, but Mrs. Younge persuaded me that it was perfectly proper for me to be there. Mr. Wickham greeted me as an old friend, which indeed he was. We had known one another since childhood, as he had grown up on the Pemberley estate, I don’t know if you remember him. I hadn’t seen much of him in recent years, for when he went away to university he turned out very wild. My brother did not care for the life Mr. Wickham was leading, although it distressed him not to like the son of a man who had served him and his father so loyally and well. I trusted my brother’s judgement and so, although I met Mr. Wickham with every appearance of politeness and good humour, I was on my guard.”
“I do remember Wickham, and I must tell you I never trusted him.”
“You were right not to do so. Well, it transpired that Mr. Wickham was acquainted with Mrs. Younge, and the next day he called upon us in our lodgings. He proposed an outing in his carriage, and as by now I was starting to feel bored, and Mrs. Younge thought it an excellent idea for me to go and take the air, off I went.”
“Only natural.”
“Natural, maybe, but also unwise. I was impressionable, I realise that now. Mr. Wickham was handsome and dashing. He had an air about him, a bold eye and charm. He was a good dancer, a lively and amusing companion, and the other young ladies in Ramsgate were envious of the fact that he was paying attention to me.”
“And you found him attractive.”
“I am ashamed to say that I did. I spent more and more time in his company, and…” She paused, unwilling to describe the feelings he had aroused in her, feelings that were unfamiliar and alarming, yet delightful. “I had no one to turn to for advice, since that odious Mrs. Younge, whom I knew by now was a vulgar woman, said that I was now no longer a girl but a young lady, and it was only right that I should enjoy flirting and taking pleasure in the company of young men. How could I have been so deceived?”
“It sounds to me as though Mrs. Younge was both cunning and wicked. I dare say she took pains to praise Mr. Wickham, to throw you together. Did she neglect her duty as chaperon, leave you alone together, arrange for you to meet?”
“Yes, all that, and she constantly praised his looks and abilities and said he would undoubtedly get on and do well in the world.” Then Mrs. Younge had begun to apply a more subtle pressure. “She said that people were talking, my reputation was at risk, gossip was spreading…”
“You need not tell me, that you were in love with Mr. Wickham. Were you?”
“How do I know? I thought I was, I found him such an agreeable companion. Only no thought of marriage had entered my mind.”
“Ah, but it had entered the minds of those two schemers, who were clearly in league. You found yourself entangled in a web, not of your making, but one carefully woven by Mr. Wickham and Mrs. Younge.”
“I did not know which way to turn, and in the end, in a moment of a kind of desperation I…I agreed to Mr. Wickham’s shocking suggestion that we should elope. He told me that my brother would never consent to our marriage, but once the knot was tied he would come round. After all, they had once been good friends and could be so again.”
“He misjudged his man there,” Colonel Hawkins said. “I suppose by this time he hated Mr. Darcy and so there was an element of revenge in persuading you to run away with him.”
“Yes, I fear so. Everything was contrived and arranged and pushed forward by Mrs. Younge so that my running away with Mr. Wickham became an inevitability, and a day was appointed for the elopement. I waited in an agony of consternation and apprehension for Mr. Wickham to arrive. The door opened, and, thank God, instead of Mr. Wickham, there was my brother. I was never so relieved or glad to see anyone in my life. I flew into his arms, in floods of tears.”
“He must have been alarmed to find you in such a state.”
“Oh, he was, he demanded to know what was wrong. Why was I so distressed? What had happened? So thankful was I that he might provide a solution to my dilemma, I poured out the whole story. I never saw him so angry, although not with me. He spoke to Mrs. Younge in such a way that she was too overcome to argue. He turned her out of the house, saying that she might go and put up with a friend or in a hotel and her possessions would be sent round to her. Then he sat down and wrote to Mr. Wickham, summoned a servant to take the letter and sent him off.”
Colonel Hawkins was smiling. “I can imagine that scene well enough.”
“Finally he turned to me, and I thought he was going to rebuke me, but it was no such thing, he was so kind and he asked, oh, in the gentlest way, if I felt any real affection for Mr. Wickham.”
“Which you didn’t.”
“No, no. I told my brother that I found him agreeable, and then one thing led to another. I knew it was wicked of me to consent to run away with him, but indeed I did not know where to turn. Then he said, “Do not deceive yourself that he was in love with you, I am afraid he was interested only in your fortune and perhaps in having
his revenge on me.”
Colonel Hawkins nodded. “So, like the good brother he is, he took care that you would never again be in the company of Mr. Wickham and hushed up the whole scandalous story.”
“He did indeed, and he made light of it. I said there would be gossip in Ramsgate, but he laughed and reassured me. He said, “Oh, you are still here in your lodgings, you are not in a carriage rattling to the border. Soon you will be back in Pemberley and next year or the year after, when you make your come out, nobody will recall it. You did not take the fatal step and as far as gossip and scandal in Ramsgate is concerned, some other subject of interest will arise and all of this will be forgotten. That is the way of these small places. You are not a native of the town, we do not live near here and within a day or two, nobody will think anything of it.”
“Spoken like the sensible man he is. What an admirable brother you have, Georgiana.”
“Yes, he has never mentioned it from that day to this. It is as though he has forgotten it entirely.”
“You haven’t, however. You still blame yourself.”
“In a way. It taught me a lesson, it taught me not to trust men who are like Wickham, all good looks and charm, and to be wary of men who like me for my fortune and not for myself. I have no worries on that score with Mr. Moresby, he is not a fortune hunter.”
“No, I will grant him that.”
Georgiana rose. “I think we must return to the ballroom. I hear the musicians again and it will excite comment if I am away too long.”
Colonel Hawkins was already on his feet, and he took her hand and carried it to her lips. “I salute you, Georgiana. It took courage for you to tell me all this.”
She gave him a direct look. “I shall never know why I did so.”