Page 98 of The Difference of a Darcy
Elizabeth’s heart twisted. “You stayed at school the whole year?”
Georgiana nodded. “Every term. Every holiday. They said it was best for me to stay with my tutors and lessons. But no one wrote. No one visited.”
“I am so sorry.”
Georgiana’s eyes dropped. “I got used to being invisible.”
There was silence for a moment, then Elizabeth asked gently, “And what happened when you left school?”
“I was fifteen. My aunt said I needed to begin preparing for my come-out. So, they hired a companion. She was strict. Cold. She cared more about my posture and my curtsy than my thoughts.” Georgiana gave a small, wry smile. “I never got my come-out, in the end.”
Elizabeth’s brows lifted slightly. “Why not?”
Georgiana hesitated, then spoke in a voice laced with embarrassment. “Because I met my husband.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught, but she kept her expression calm. “Would you… would you like to tell me about it?”
Georgiana’s eyes did not lift from her lap. “It was Hyde Park. I was not quite sixteen. My companion had a cold and stayed behind, so I was walking with just my maid and a footman. George Wickham saw me—he recognized me from when I was very young. I did not remember him well, but he said we were great friends once. He was so kind. So handsome.”
Elizabeth swallowed, her throat suddenly tight.
“He flattered me,” Georgiana said, twisting her fingers together. “He told me I was beautiful. That I deserved better than the life I was living. We… we arranged more walks. He sent me notes through my maid. Sometimes he visited when my aunt and uncle were out. And then one day, he told me he loved me.”
Elizabeth nodded, urging her gently to continue.
“He said that if we eloped, I would never have to come out. I could avoid all the pressure and just live quietly with him at Pemberley. He made it sound so perfect.” She closed her eyes. “That summer, we went to Matlock for the heat. George followed us there. And one night… we left.”
“Left?”
Georgiana nodded. “Straight to Gretna Green. It took two days. The first night, we shared a room. He was very kind. Polite. He kissed me once, and then let me sleep. I thought—” She broke off and shook her head. “But the next day, after the marriage… he was different.”
Elizabeth’s stomach clenched.
“He took me to the inn,” Georgiana whispered, “and he was not gentle. At first it was… pleasant, I suppose, but then I was frightened. He was loud. Demanding. He said it was his right now. That I belonged to him.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
“And after that, all he spoke of was money. That he was master now. That he would finally have everything he deserved.” She let out a bitter laugh. “But when we returned to Matlock, my relatives shut the doors in our faces. They would not see me. The earl said I had made my choice and was no longer his responsibility.”
Elizabeth wanted to scream.
“They told him the dowry was inaccessible until I turned twenty-one. He was furious. Said I had tricked him. That I was a worthless waif. He drank half the way to Pemberley and ranted the rest.”
She looked up, her voice hollow.
“And when we arrived… the house was musty, nearly empty. He disappeared within a week. Took what coin he could find. Said he was going to London. I have not seen him since.”
Elizabeth reached over slowly, placing her hand over Georgiana’s trembling fingers.
“You did not deserve any of that,” she said quietly.
Georgiana did not reply—but she did not pull away.
And that, Elizabeth thought, was something.
∞∞∞
That evening, after the house had quieted and the last chores were done, Elizabeth climbed the narrow stairs beside Darcy. Their feet were heavy with fatigue, but her thoughts were still tangled in the conversation from earlier that day.
