One Love - Two Hearts - Three Stories Read online

  He smiled at the thought of Georgiana frolicking on the beach and wondered if her pleasure was in feeling the sand on her feet or in defying propriety by having her shoes off in public. She had always been a good and obedient child; quietly tending to her lessons. Often, she would sit with him and read or work on her embroidery as he worked on the stacks of correspondence that came with owning a large estate, a house in London, and varied business interests around England, Scotland, and the Americas. Again, he wondered at this Miss Elizabeth Bennet being able to so quickly bring Georgiana out of her shell. What could her motives be? Was she like so many of the ton who pretended a friendship when their actual goal was to grasp his or his sister’s coattails to obtain entrance into the most coveted social events of the season?

  It had been Darcy’s plan this season to start looking for an accomplished woman who would be a fitting Mistress of Pemberley and an example and helper to his sister. There were many London fathers and mothers who frequently flaunted their single daughters in hopes of becoming his potential wife, but he knew that they were seeking their own advantages and not the happiness of their child. Arranged marriages were routine for those in his social set. Darcy had observed few marriages where both parties were content and happy with their choice. He did not want to spend the remainder of his life with a woman whom he could not respect and admire. Due to the Darcy family coffers growing under his tutelage, there was no need for a wife to bring a large dowry and Darcy felt no need to add a title to the family just for the sake of having one. He could afford to be selective. He did not want a selfish, greedy, spineless, mindless woman as his wife nor as a sister to Georgiana.

  Darcy sat back up in his chair, selected a fresh sheet of his personal stationary, and dipped the pen into the ink. This letter deserved an immediate response.

  July 9, 1811

  Darcy House

  London

  My dearest Georgiana,

  After reading your letter I can only wonder at the person who wrote it. Could this happy writer possibly be my Georgiana? Sand between your toes? I shudder with horror and smile with pleasure at the picture that your expressions brought to my mind. I do thank you for your reassurances that you have not forgotten your lessons. My shy Georgiana performed in public? How could this be?

  While I do trust that the decisions Mrs. Younge makes for you are proper, I would appreciate hearing more about the circumstances of the Bennet family. My dear sister, there is no person on this earth more precious to me than you and your well-being is my greatest concern.

  How did you know that your letter would find me in my study? You are correct, Georgiana, I shall leave my desk for the stables and go for a run about the park. Is that what you had in mind? Or maybe you were thinking of visiting museums that I have already been to or seeing one of the Bard’s plays that I have already seen? I find myself missing you quite often and am desirous of your good company as the days go by. Your little mare, Button, also seems to long for your company, though she can be bribed into a very little bit of activity with an apple or a treat. Fickle female!

  Be assured of my best wishes,

  William

  It was the morning but five days later that Darcy received her reply. It was dated the day prior. Georgiana’s letter was thick and weighty and had been delivered by an express messenger. This was a rare occurrence for his sister to use this option and Darcy immediately felt trepidation and fear dance down his spine. He broke the thick waxy seal on the back and planted himself solidly in his chair for whatever blow her words might deliver.

  Tucked inside her missive was another letter, written in a decidedly feminine hand, obviously not written by his sister. Georgiana’s handwriting was large and loopy while this was elegantly done. Worried that it might be concerns that Mrs. Younge might have of the Bennet family or another situation, he opened it first. Scanning the first few sentences his heart started pounded so rapidly that it felt it might burst out the front of his chest. It took just moments to read both letters and the danger as described moved him to action. His hand balled the missives into his fist as he yelled for the long-time butler of Darcy House. Darcy stood rapidly, his heavy chair crashing to the ground behind him, unnoticed.

  “Ramsey!” Fear and horror laced Darcy’s voice. “Have Hermes brought around. I am to Ramsgate immediately.”

  His butler, Ramsey, recognized the note of panic in his master and moved quickly to obey the direction. On his way back from the mews he redirected his steps to the kitchen to have Cook pack for the eighty-mile trip. Mr. Ramsey heard Darcy yelling for his valet to pack his saddle with a change of clothes. It would be a fast trip and a short stay.

  It seemed but a moment before Darcy returned to the foyer to leave. To Darcy, the minutes seemed to crawl by and he felt the wasted seconds like breaths he could never recapture. He handed the butler a note with directions to have it delivered to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, as soon as a messenger could be called. He might need help with what he now expected to find. All of his thoughts about the suitability of Mrs. Younge as a companion to a respectable young lady were murderous.

  The stallion arrived and picked up on his master’s agitation, pawing the ground and shaking his head until its forelock fell from side to side. With some difficulty the groom tied the bags containing the clothing and food items behind the saddle. Before the groom could step back, Darcy leapt onto the horse, kicked his heels into its flanks and charged away from the house. The horse responded to his master’s command, willing to push himself as hard as Darcy wanted to ride. Darcy’s control of the horse was unyielding. His intentions towards Wickham and Mrs. Younge would be unyielding as well. Just twenty minutes after the express letter had arrived, Darcy headed south-southeast toward Ramsgate.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The afternoon prior –

  Elizabeth Bennet kept her arms around her young friend’s shoulders as she held her tightly to her chest. Georgiana’s sobbing despair was heartbreaking to witness. Elizabeth’s older sister, Jane, paced the floor in front of the settee, pausing occasionally to offer any help that she might be able to provide.

  “Oh, how could I have been so foolish?” Georgiana whimpered. She turned her face into Elizabeth’s neck and unintentionally wiped her tears and nose on Elizabeth’s newest day gown. Elizabeth was accepting of the mess.

  While Jane expressed sympathy and compassion oozed from her like sap from a tree, Elizabeth had had enough. It was time for Georgiana to stop feeling sorry for herself and put the events into perspective. She was but five and ten years old and would recover, Elizabeth was certain. Her own youngest sister, Lydia, the same age as Georgiana, imagined herself to be in love every time she spotted a handsome officer in a red coat. While the personalities of Georgiana Darcy and Lydia Bennet were as east is to west, they were still alike in being at a trying age where emotions tended to volley from one extreme to the other.

  Elizabeth firmly patted Georgiana on the shoulder and pulled back from her. “You need to get yourself together, dear girl.” Elizabeth’s voice was firm and brooked no argument. She had perfected it with Lydia and her next youngest sister, Kitty, who had heard that tone many times. “Wipe your nose and dry those tears. We need to discuss what happened and decide upon our course of action.”

  Georgiana had never been spoken to so firmly. Being without a mother and given over to the care of Pemberley’s housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, while her brother was away at school, had left her indulged and entitled. Georgiana was aware that this was a failing that she tried to correct. This was the first time that a friend’s words jarred with her opinion of herself and Georgiana did not care for it at all. Still, she was grateful for the swift reactions of her friend in removing her from a dangerous situation.

  “Georgiana, pray tell us what that man means to you.”

  George Wickham was handsome, polite, and articulate. He had grown up at Pemberley and been her father’s godson. It had been many years since Georgiana had been in
his company. Sweet, tender memories had easily come to mind and she could not remember spending as enjoyable a time as she had over the past weeks with him. He had reminded her of special events in years past that they had spent together, almost as if they and her brother were siblings. Wickham spoke of a future, one which had a happily-ever-after ending like the novels that she devoured in the privacy of her room after the house had gone to sleep. Georgiana had felt the first tender inclination towards young love.

  Sitting up away from Elizabeth, her spine as stiff as her demeanor, Georgiana wiped her eyes and sniffed. She had no idea how alike she was to her brother at that moment. Wickham would have seen it in an instant as the Darcy resolve. Georgiana Darcy may have been shy and timid, but she was not lacking in courage when pushed. Elizabeth was pushing… hard.

  “There does not seem a time that I did not know George Wickham. He was like an older brother to me. It has been many years since I have been in his company and I was pleased to renew the acquaintance.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Even Mrs. Younge approved of him and arranged for us to spend many hours together in private conversation.”

  Elizabeth was horrified at the actions of Georgiana’s companion. It was against every rule of propriety to allow an unmarried female to be alone with an unmarried man. She took Georgiana’s hand and squeezed, encouraging her to continue.

  “What I saw this morning was a shock. I had no clue there was a prior relationship between Mr. Wickham and Mrs. Younge. Seeing them locked in a passionate embrace in my sitting room and their expressions when they realized that they were observed, the guilt that they both displayed was telling. They both tried to cover it over with excuses. Mrs. Younge said that she had tripped and that Mr. Wickham had caught her, at the same time that he blurted out that he was trying to find something that had gotten into her eye. I knew not to believe either one of them.”

  “What disappoints you the most, Georgiana?” Elizabeth was gentle as she asked.

  “I think it was because I thought he was a good man like my brother.” Georgiana had spoken well of Fitzwilliam Darcy, almost as if he were an idol to be adored. “Mr. Wickham had earlier spoken to me of marriage and how much fun it would have been to elope to Gretna Green and then surprise my brother with the happy news when we returned. He then asked me about my pearl brooch that had been my mother’s. When I mentioned that it was in my jewelry box in my room, he requested to see it so that he could more clearly remember my mother and that it would make a beautiful adornment for a new bride. I had removed it earlier this morning from the box as I was thinking of pinning it to my gown when he came for his morning visit. I thought it would make me look at least sixteen to wear it but decided at the last minute to leave it behind. That was what allowed me to return so quickly to the sitting room.” She started crying again. “It was then that I came upon them. Seeing them kissing, their arms wrapped around each other, stopped me from completely entering the room. I do not know how long I stood there before I regained my voice.”

  Turning to face Elizabeth directly, she looked her in the eyes and continued. “He said that he was in love with me” Again, she paused, her voice a quivering whisper. “He was not, was he?”

  “No, Georgiana, he was not in love with you. Nor, it appears, was he a good man.” Taking her own handkerchief and handing it to her friend, she continued. “Goodness is moral excellence and virtue. A good man does more than fulfill obligations or avoid wrongdoing. He exerts himself for others and does not seek his own advantage. Would you describe Mr. Wickham as acting in this manner after witnessing him with Mrs. Younge?”

  “No.”

  “Therefore, Georgiana, we need to look at what is present before us. I do hope that you do not feel that I am overly harsh; however, it will do no good to soften the wicked deeds of your former friend and your companion. The facts appear to be that he does not love you and he is not a good man. Mrs. Younge has been treacherous in her actions. She never should have allowed you to spend hours with a single man in conversation, no matter how far back your relationship went. Is this not true?”

  At this, Georgiana nodded, her head now bowed and her hands twisting the handkerchief.

  “My question for you now is, what would your brother do if he were here?”

  Georgiana did not hesitate to answer. “He would remove me from the influence of Mrs. Younge and call out Mr. Wickham. I would never see George Wickham again.”

  “Then, that is exactly what we shall do. I shall confer with both my father and uncle. In the meantime, I suggest that you write to your brother and describe these events in full, requesting his immediate presence. Jane shall see if our aunt Gardiner will accompany her to your house to have your maid pack the items of value that you will need. You will stay here with me and will be protected by our family until Mr. Darcy arrives, no matter how long it might take.”

  Jane left to take care of her assignment and Elizabeth again hugged her friend. “I will include a note with our directions and a plea for a quick response, Georgiana. You shall be cared for.”

  Elizabeth brought her portable writing desk to Georgiana while she left her bed chamber to seek out her father. It had already been a long afternoon since Georgiana had burst into their home an hour before. Arrangements would need to be made to see that the letter arrived at Mr. Darcy’s London residence as rapidly as possible. She wondered at Mr. Darcy’s reaction when he finally arrived at Ramsgate.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Darcy soon realized that riding Hermes all eighty miles to Ramsgate would not be the best use of his time. Dust churned from carriages that he overtook, which added to the discomfort of the heat. At each coaching inn he traded for a fresh mount and set out. Halfway to his destination, he stopped long enough to partake of the food that Cook had sent and read the letters again. They were heartbreaking. His viewpoint on Miss Elizabeth Bennet took a turn for the better. Yes, it was against all that was proper for a single woman to correspond with an unattached man. It was the first letter that he had ever received from a single lady wholly unrelated to him. Yet, his gratitude for Miss Elizabeth’s taking his vulnerable sister under her protection almost overwhelmed him. Not knowing how Georgiana was holding up under such a traumatic event was devastating. Thus, it was an irritated, worried, and emotionally high-strung man that approached the Bennets’ rented house that evening. His horse was worn and his nerves were frazzled. Tossing the reins to a groom with directions as to the horse’s care, Darcy bounded up the steps. The door was opened by an elderly gentleman who was somewhat informally dressed.

  “You must be Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy,” the man spoke. “I am Mr. Thomas Bennet, the temporary resident of this household. We have been expecting you.” He looked the young man over and found him to be dust-covered, but well dressed. His clothing and countenance bespoke a wealth far above the Bennet family. However, family trouble knew no social barriers. “I will have the staff prepare a bath for you, sir, unless you plan on removing your sister next door to the cottage you have contracted. After Miss Darcy came to us, Mrs. Younge was observed yesterday leaving with a man I believe to be Mr. Wickham and neither have returned. Your staff that you hired is still there.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Bennet, for your offer of hospitality.” Darcy cared not for the dust of the road nor the civilities. He wanted - no, he needed to see Georgiana. “Might I be shown to my sister?”

  Having the responsibility of raising five daughters, Mr. Bennet was aware that his first desire would have been the same. He directed Darcy to the drawing room. As soon as the doors opened and the young man followed him into the room, Georgiana ran toward her brother crying his name. It touched Mr. Bennet’s heart to see the love and affection between the siblings. He had wondered, like his Lizzy, how Mr. Darcy would respond. Some men were harsh with the women in their family, especially those under their control. Mr. Darcy was clearly not that type of man.

  Darcy’s long arms encircled his sister and he tucked her head under his
chin resting his cheek on top of her blonde curls. Closing his eyes, he went through the motions of breathing in and out slowly so as to calm his heart. His emotions all centered on Georgiana and his relief that she was safe was immense. He moved his large right hand to stroke the side of her face, using his thumb to rub across her cheek.

  “Oh, Georgie-girl,” he whispered softly. She did not seem to hear him through her sobs. Darcy used his left arm to pull her tighter as his coat absorbed her tears. When she seemed to quiet, he pulled back and cupped her face in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe the dampness from under her eyes; the same way he had done when she was little. “Georgiana, did he hurt you? Did Wickham harm you in any way?”

  Georgiana stared at her brother as if she was surprised at his words. She tilted her head back and looked at him directly. “No, Brother, I am unharmed. I left the cottage and came to the Bennet home before any damage could be done to me or to my reputation. I was afraid that you would be disappointed that I had any contact with Mr. Wickham or that I failed to discern Mrs. Younge’s treachery.”

  “You silly goose.” Darcy’s relief was palpable. He again pulled her to him for a brief hug, this time with a slight smile.

  When he released her, Georgiana took his hand and drew him over to the settee where a young woman was standing next to Mr. Bennet. Mr. Darcy correctly assumed that this was Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She was a mite shorter than his sister with dark hair and sparkling eyes that glistened in the room’s candlelight.

  Darcy waited for the introductions and bowed deeply to both Elizabeth and her father. On closer look, he recognized an ingrained intelligence in the older man’s face and that his clothing was that of a gentleman. Darcy was grateful. His concerns about the Bennet family taking advantage of his sister’s position in society were virtually eliminated with the kindness shown.