Page 124 of The Difference of a Darcy
Inside were two skins of watered wine, a small loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, a few baked potatoes wrapped in cloth, several dried apples, and a bundle of salted meat. Elizabeth smiled faintly.
“We have enough to camp here for several days, it seems,” she said lightly, though the sound of her laughter was brittle.
Georgiana did not return it. Her eyes were wide and glistening in the low light.
Elizabeth knelt beside her and took her hand. “I will do all I can to keep you safe,” she promised.
That was enough to break whatever fragile composure Georgiana still held. The girl burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. “Why?” she choked out. “Why are you helping me? How can you not hate me for what I have done? For the danger I have brought upon you? We are practically strangers—why would you risk so much for me? Why not just leave?”
Elizabeth’s throat tightened. “Because I would want someone to do the same for one of my sisters,” she said quietly. “I have a sister in trouble now—perhaps in very great trouble—and I cannot be there to help her. So I pray that somewhere, someone will show her the same kindness I can show you.”
She hesitated, then added softly, “Her name is Jane. She was in love with a man who she thought was honorable. He loved her once, but then he left her behind, and she was left to face the consequences without a husband’s name.”
Georgiana’s fingers brushed the edge of her sleeve, her voice trembling. “I am not sure which is worse—being married to a cruel man, or not being married at all.”
Elizabeth smiled sadly. “Both are dreadful in their own way. The world is rarely just to women. My friend Charlotte once said that happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance.”
“Do you believe that?”
“I used to think not,” Elizabeth said, glancing toward the little fire. “But now… I believe chance plays its part, yes—but so do choice and courage.”
Georgiana was quiet for a moment, then said, “How can anyone ever trust another enough to marry them? How did you know you could trust your husband—to put yourself in his power so completely?”
Elizabeth drew in a steadying breath, her lips curving into a wistful smile. “Time,” she said. “Time, and truth. I misjudged him terribly at first. I thought him proud, arrogant, and disagreeable. At a public assembly, he refused to dance with me—and called me merely ‘tolerable.’ I thought him insufferable.”
Georgiana gave a startled little laugh. “Oh dear. That cannot have gone well.”
“No,” Elizabeth admitted, laughing softly herself. “It did not. And when he finally confessed his love, I refused him most rudely. But afterward… circumstances threw us together. I began to see him as he truly was. He learned humility, and I learned forgiveness. He admitted his faults, and he changed. When it mattered most, he proved himself dependable, honorable, and sincere. Over time, I came to see the man beneath the pride.”
Georgiana sighed dreamily. “That is so romantic. You must love him very much.”
Elizabeth felt her eyes sting. “I do,” she whispered. “I love him so very, very dearly.”
For a long moment, neither spoke. The faint sounds from Mrs. Wells in the kitchen filled the silence between them.
At last, Elizabeth drew the blankets higher about Georgiana’s shoulders. “Come now—you must be exhausted. Lie here and rest. When my sisters could not sleep, or had frightening dreams, they would come to my bed, and I would stroke their hair until they calmed. Sometimes I would sing.”
She smoothed Georgiana’s hair from her damp cheeks, the motion soothing them both. She began to hum—a tune she had not thought of in years, one her mother used to sing on soft summer evenings at Longbourn. The words came unbidden, trembling but sure.
Sleep, my child and peace attend thee,
All through the night
Guardian angels, God will send thee,
All through the night
Soft, the drowsy hours are creeping
Hill and vale, in slumber sleeping,
I, my loving vigil keeping
All through the night.
Elizabeth’s voice softened to a whisper, the sound filling the small scullery with peace. Through the small window, faint moonlight streamed in, illuminating Georgiana’s face.
While the moon, her watch is keeping
