Page 75 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious "Miss B"
Elizabeth wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. “I do not know. I suppose… I have been so happy with Darcy these past weeks. Perhaps I was expecting something dreadful to happen.”
“Why would you expect that?”
“Because I am not his equal, Jane. I know we pretend otherwise, but I am not. He could have anyone—why would he choose me?” Elizabeth’s voice broke. “I suppose part of me has been waiting for him to realise his mistake.”
“Elizabeth Bennet,” Jane said firmly, “you are speaking nonsense. You and Mr Darcy are perfectly suited in station. He is a gentleman, you are a gentleman’s daughter. Your birth is equal to his.”
“But his fortune—”
“Has nothing to do with your worth as a person or your suitability as a wife.” Jane squeezed her hands. “Lizzy, you have never felt this way before about any man, have you?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Never. I have never… I did not know it was possible to feel this way about anyone.”
“Then perhaps that is why you are so afraid of losing it. You don’t trust something that feels too good to be true.”
Elizabeth wiped her eyes. “Jane, do you ever doubt Mr Bingley? At all?”
“No,” Jane said simply. “Not anymore.”
“But how can you be so certain? He left before, he hurt you—”
“He did hurt me,” Jane acknowledged. “But we have spoken honestly about what happened, and I understand his reasons now. I am certain of his feelings for me, just as I am certain of my own for him.”
Elizabeth stared at her sister. “I wish I had your confidence. Perhaps Mr Darcy and I are not meant to be if I cannot trust him as you trust Mr Bingley.”
“Lizzy, you and Mr Bingley had very different circumstances. Charles and I had time to know each other’s hearts before we were separated. You and Mr Darcy… your courtship has been rather unconventional, has it not?”
Fresh tears sprang to her eyes. “But what if I have destroyed everything? What if he can never forgive me for doubting him?”
“If he loves you—and I believe he does—then he will forgive you. But Lizzy, you must understand why you doubted him before you can ask his forgiveness.”
“You mean why I believed this Mr Wickham?”
“Yes. What exactly did he tell you about Mr Darcy?”
Elizabeth related Wickham’s accusations—the living, the dismissed tenants, his claims about Darcy’s cruelty. “But when Darcy asked how Wickham had found me and I told him about James, he said they were all lies designed to hurt me. Which I can believe but what I do not understand is why Darcy never once told me about this Mr Wickham, if they were so close as children.”
The door opened again, and Lydia appeared, looking defiant. “I know you told me to go away, Jane, but I cannot. Not when Lizzy is crying and it involves Mr Darcy and someone called Wickham.”
Jane sighed. “Lydia—”
“No, listen. If this is about George Wickham, then I must tell you what Georgiana told me.” Lydia came and knelt beside Elizabeth’s chair. “Lizzy, Georgiana confided in me about what happened at Ramsgate last summer.”
Elizabeth looked up sharply. “What about Ramsgate?”
“Mr Wickham tried to elope with her. For her fortune. Mr Darcy arrived just in time to stop it.” Lydia’s young face was serious. “Georgiana was only fifteen, Lizzy. She was completely taken in by his charm, and he very nearly ruined her.”
The blood drained from her face. “Georgiana told you this?”
“She swore me to secrecy, but if this man has been telling lies about Mr Darcy, then you need to know the truth.” Lydia’s voice was fierce. “Mr Darcy saved his sister from a fortune hunter and a scoundrel. That is the kind of man he is.”
Elizabeth buried her face in her hands again. Now she understood why Darcy had not told her about this man—he could not speak of Wickham’s true character without exposing his sister’s private shame. He had been protecting Georgiana even at the cost of his own reputation with Elizabeth.
“Oh, what have I done?” she whispered. “He must hate me now.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Jane said. “But you must go to him, Lizzy. You must tell him that you understand now, and that you are sorry.”
“But what if he won’t see me? What if it is too late?”
