Page 47 of Darcy's Guarded Heart
“Your sister? She wanted to take a turn about the garden with Thomas.”
“I would appreciate it if somebody could take me to my sister immediately,” he said, his tone sharp, almost like a cat whose tail had just been stepped upon.
Elizabeth got up, sensing that Mr Darcy was close to an explosion. “I shall take you,” she said.
He nodded at her, and she noted that he hadn’t removed his hat yet, so clearly he had no intention of staying. Why was he so upset, she wondered?
They walked together out of the drawing room, just as Mr Collins had risen to his feet and bowed, his mouth half open, it was clear he had attempted to engage Mr Darcy in conversation.
“I had not expected to see you,” she began.
“Do you think I am the sort of gentleman who would allow my sister to sneak away from home when she was explicitly told not to, and I would simply do nothing?”
Elizabeth paused, biting her lips as she realised why he was here and why he was in such a dreadful mood. “Sir, do you mean to say that your sister did not have permission to come?”
Mr Darcy softened somewhat. “No, she did not. She asked me but I denied her request. I suspected that your sisters encouraged her to come anyway.”
“They did not, Mr Darcy,” she said at once. “But perhaps if your sister felt the need to sneak away, that should make you reconsider how you approach this situation.”
“Reconsider what? She made a request, I denied it. It is as simple as that,” he said but did not meet her eyes.
“You still do not think our family is proper? May I remind you that my father is a gentleman, same as you? Your sister is a gentleman’s daughter, same as I, and my sisters…”
“But your ward is not,” he retorted.
Elizabeth understood at once. The affection Thomas held for Georgiana had been obvious to her. Therefore, it was reasonable that Mr Darcy, as her brother and thus intimately familiar with her, would have noticed as well.
“Thomas is an upstanding gentleman,” she said defensively.
“That is the trouble; he is no gentleman at all. But no matter. All will be put to right.”
What did he mean by that, she wondered.
“Georgiana!” he called, and she looked up just in time to see Georgiana and Thomas leapt up from a bench, both looking guilty. She closed her eyes. Of all the things she didn’t want Mr Darcy to see, it was this. She had hoped to find the two of them conversing about flowers or some other matter, but instead, they were engaged in rather more intimate activities. She was almost certain she had seen them holding hands. She could only pray that Mr Darcy hadn’t.
“William,” she said, but got no further.
“We are leaving,” he stated firmly. “Right now. Where is Mrs Annesley? I shall have to have a word…”
“She thought we were entirely permitted to be here,” Georgiana protested at once. “Do not be cross with her; she has done nothing wrong.”
Mr Darcy sighed. “Very well. It is good of you to stand up for her. But in any case, we are leaving. Now.”
“Mr Darcy,” Thomas said but Mr Darcy only glared at him before ushering his sister back to the house.
“Thomas,” Elizabeth said but he shook his head.
“I told you this was a terrible idea. I wish I had not listened to you and put her out of my head when I had the chance,” he said and Elizabeth’s heart broke for he’d never spoken to her like this before. She glared at Mr Darcy, wishing that she too had put the man out of her mind when she had a chance to do so.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Darcy
As the carriage rolled smoothly over the cobblestones, Darcy observed the delicate features of his sister, Georgiana, seated beside him. She looked upset, there was no denying it. Of course, he’d known she would be. He had separated her from the man she appeared to be infatuated with. He’d had his suspicions, but seeing them together on the bench had confirmed it. It hadn’t been an intimate situation by any means—and his sister’s behaviour was beyond reproach—but it had been clear enough.
He’d been correct to come. Goodness, he did not want to imagine what might have happened had Caroline not been eavesdropping on Georgiana’s conversation with poor Mrs Annesley, who she’d roped into this venture. To think his own sister would manipulate the poor woman. It was unconscionable.
Across from them, Mrs Annesley sat, her usual composure marred by lines of concern etched on her face. “Mr Darcy, I must apologise,” she began, her voice nervous. “I was unaware you did not wish for this call to take place.”
