by Jayne Bamber
“Wretched harpy,” Rebecca spat, jumping to her feet and pacing angrily behind the sofa. “It was likely all conjecture anyhow, for how could Cynthia Sutton know the truth? Well, after your reaction there can be no doubt as to the veracity of her claim.”
“Rebecca,” Elizabeth cried, “How could you blame her at such a time?”
The two women exchanged a poisonous look before Rebecca’s shoulders sagged and she sighed. “I am sorry, Georgie. I know it is not your fault. I cannot say I would have reacted any better at such a moment. I only wonder how she could possibly know. Were there any true resemblance between you and Julia, I could think it an educated guess, but Julia really does favor Darcy – Wickham, I suppose.”
Georgiana collapsed in another fit of sobbing. “Tell me she did not see you cry,” Elizabeth said, furrowing her brows in concern.
“I hardly know,” Georgiana wailed. “From that moment, everything is a blank to me. I know not even how we arrived at home.”
“It does not matter,” Mary said sullenly. “The damage is done. I observed the exchange from some remove, with Kate. I saw Miss Sutton whispering to Georgiana; I knew it must be something unpleasant, from how Georgiana faltered, attempting to speak before she turned and fled. She had almost made it to where Kate and I sat, when she swooned. Sir Gerald was nearby, and just barely caught her before she was injured. And yet, would this not be just as natural a reaction if the rumor was false?”
No one said anything for a minute – no one could bear to answer that Georgiana’s reaction was practically an admission of her guilt. At last Rebecca spoke, pacing the room anxiously. “How could Cynthia Sutton know anything about the matter? Outside of this room, the only other people who know our secret are the Gardiners, whom we all trust implicitly, Mrs. Bennet, who has been in Hertfordshire for the last month, and Jane, whom nobody has heard from since her hasty departure from London last autumn.”
“Miss Sutton knows something,” Richard replied. “I recall it was her idea that we all walk that direction. It is almost as though she wished for such an incident to take place so publicly.”
“Good God, everyone around us in the park must have seen it,” Georgiana moaned.
“There was a woman,” Mary said softly. “I remember seeing a lady watching us from some remove, and it struck me that she looked rather familiar. After Georgiana fainted, Miss Sutton waved at her, and then she was gone. Marianne, I think it was your sister.”
Marianne gasped, and exchanged a look of horror with Elizabeth as the realization dawned on them both at once. “Fanny.”
Marianne felt her stomach heave; if Fanny Dashwood was behind this, then it was all her own fault. She had taken such delight in shunning her sister-in-law, ever since her engagement to Richard had been announced. How she had laughed at what vexation she must be giving Fanny by refusing to invite her to the wedding at Matlock, and denying her all the pleasure she might have taken in bragging about her relation to a viscount. But now, it seemed, Fanny was having the last laugh.
***
Everything was a disaster. Poor Mary’s birthday, their debut in London, even her own future, all ruined. Georgiana floated through the party, largely unaware of what was happening around her, imagining derisive whispers and knowing looks everywhere.
Despite Mary’s objections, Georgiana had insisted that they go ahead as planned with the party. Rebecca had lauded her bravery and declared it was quite the right thing to do. “Let them see that you are not bothered by these rumors,” she had declared, “and they will die away quickly enough.”
Georgiana had made every effort to do just that. The rest of her family had remained in close counsel in the drawing room long after she fled to her room upstairs, not wishing to hear their speculation about why, after so many months of silence, Marianne’s estranged sister had finally chosen to share what she knew with the worst of London’s society gossips. To Georgiana, it did not matter why a woman who barely knew her would choose to suddenly destroy her reputation. She could only think that as it was the truth, perhaps she deserved the worst.
“Keep your chin up,” Rebecca had urged her. “I saw no one around us at the park this morning that is on the guest list for this evening. No one here tonight will have any knowledge of what transpired. It is as if it never happened, and you must tell yourself that until you believe it. The rumors may circulate for a week or two, but the quickest way of putting paid to them is to pay them no heed. Only if people see you sweat will they give them any credence.”
Despite her cousin’s counsel, Georgiana felt she was barely holding herself together, much less holding her head high. Though she and Mary had experienced some popularity in the time they had been in London, and Elizabeth had had more than one successful turn at hostessing, Georgiana began to imagine the crowd in her brother’s house had come not to celebrate but to speculate. She had never felt so scrutinized in the entire course of her life.
She muddled through the opening set with Henry Audley, who chatted pleasantly with her, but eventually fell silent after his remark on her sullen attitude went unanswered. Was he hinting that he knew the reason why? The paranoia tore at her, and she sat the next several dances out despite entreaties from her brother and cousins.
She watched Mary uncharacteristically dance every dance, casting protective glances in her direction over the shoulders of every partner who took her to the floor, and it was torture for Georgiana to know that she was ruining the surprise Elizabeth had worked so hard on. She watched Elizabeth occasionally gazing fretfully about them, no doubt considering that in all the chaos her decorations had been abandoned, and she watched Richard and Marianne make every effort to speak to everyone in the room with tales of their continental holiday, even as everyone they spoke with seemed to be casting sideward glances at the pale debutante sulking in the corner.
When they broke for supper Georgiana hung back, having no desire to eat, and it was then that Lady Catherine approached her, her countenance stern. Georgiana felt every muscle in her body go rigid as her aunt took her by the arm and led her into the empty corridor. “Come, child, do not stand gawking in such an ill-bred manner.”
Georgiana let out a shaky breath as she allowed Lady Catherine to lead her away while the other guests milled into the dining room. “I spoke with Sir Gerald about what happened this morning, and he told me what his daughter said to you. Tell me, is it true?”
Georgiana looked down at her feet, wringing her hands in distress, when she heard the familiar sound of her brother sternly clearing his throat. He gestured for them both to follow him into his study, where he closed the door behind them and motioned for them both to sit. “I beg you would not importune my sister, Madam, after the incident this morning. She has gone through quite a shock.”
“And have you nothing to say to the shock I have experienced at witnessing such a scene? This is my grandchild, my only grandchild we are speaking of, Fitzwilliam. But as you have not yet denied it, I can only surmise it is true.”
Georgiana cut her brother off before he could make any reply; after seeing him suffer through the deception for so long, she could not bear to watch him lie to their aunt. “Yes, it is true.”
Lady Catherine rounded on her with a look of surprising compassion. “No, my dear,” said she, reaching for Georgiana’s hands. “It is a scandalous falsehood, even if it is true, do you hear me?”
“I... I do not understand,” Georgiana stammered.
“But I think I do. I am not angry with you, my dear. How could I be? If you only knew – but no matter.”
“That is very generous of you, aunt,” William said skeptically.
Lady Catherine fixed him with a withering glare. “Do not think that you are forgiven, Fitzwilliam. I know better than to think Georgiana would ever dare deceive me. This was your doing. I see it now, I see it all. Your sudden willingness to marry Anne? I only wonder if she knew what she was getting into when I forced you to wed.”
There was
just the trace of a smile on William’s face. “It was her idea. She told me that if I got drunk enough, you would force her to take advantage of me. How well you played into our plan! I took no pleasure in deceiving you, nor in allowing Anne to sacrifice herself as she did. If it gives you any consolation, she was perhaps the only one of us who was actually pleased by that turn of events. I think she was rather eager to raise Georgiana’s child as her own, and for all the love I bear my second wife, I can honestly tell you I am sorry Anne did not get the chance to do so.”
“Spare me your consolation, Fitzwilliam, I do not intend to be thus patronized. You might have let me in on your little secret, as I daresay Richard was.”
“He was.” William stared blankly at their aunt, waiting for her to unleash the full extent of her displeasure.
“You should have told me the truth. Aside from my skirt-chasing brother, I am the head of this family. Much as I wanted you to wed my daughter, I would have supported the plan. What could you possibly have been afraid of, in concealing the truth from me?”
There was a long silence before Darcy sighed heavily. “Perhaps you are right. It was wrong of me not to trust you to put the interest of our family ahead of everything else. You have never done otherwise.”
“I have done, once, in such a way as to render me uniquely qualified to sympathize with your poor sister.”
“What?”
“I shall ask the questions for now, if you please. Georgiana,” Lady Catherine said, her voice softening as she looked over at her niece. “Is this why you invited me to Pemberley when you did? Did you seek my counsel?”
There was such intense emotion in Lady Catherine’s countenance, Georgiana almost wished she could claim it was so. “William was cross with me for what I had done at Ramsgate, and I was angry with him for not understanding how lonely I had been, how I had been driven to folly. I justified my actions as being the result of my solitary life at Pemberley – when Mr. Wickham paid his addresses to me, I felt no remorse at doing what I knew was wrong. William was so angry with me and I only wished to lash out at him. I am sorry for it, but I knew that your coming to Pemberley would be a sort of punishment for him.”
Lady Catherine flinched has though Georgiana had physically struck her. “I suppose I deserve that. I know what Anne thought of me all those years. I have not always been kind to you both, but I mean to be now. I have never wanted anything less than the very best for the both of you. What is best for us now, for you and for all the family, is for us to recover from this as swiftly as possible. That I am hurt and angry does not signify.”
Lady Catherine rose from her chair and began to pace, her arms crossed in front of her as a look of rapid consideration knitted her brow. “I will question Cynthia further about where these rumors originated, and discover how far they may have spread. There is much we can do to suppress the gossip and preserve your reputation. I will continue to acknowledge Julia as my grandchild; I happen to have an inordinate affection for the little cherub. Of course, you must maintain all the appearance of innocence, Georgiana. You must act just as you would if these rumors actually were false. Do not hide from the world or shrink from the tiresome wretches spreading this gossip. You are a Darcy, the granddaughter of an Earl. Some of the finest blood in England runs through your veins and nothing will ever change that.”
Georgiana nodded feebly as her aunt continued to pace, and a moment later a smile spread across the older woman’s face. “There is something else.... Yes, I think that will do. If you do not like what people are saying, change the conversation. Yes, that is precisely what we will do. It is not how I planned it, but perhaps it is for the best. You may return to the dining room, Georgiana, as I am sure your absence has already exposed you to comment. If anyone asks, indeed even if they do not, you must make it known that you were helping me prepare for a special announcement. You will tell Sir Gerald, quite simply, that it is happening tonight, and then you will go about your meal as if you haven’t a care in the world. Fitzwilliam, I require a few more minutes of your time, if you please. I have something very particular to tell you.”
***
Once Georgiana left the room, Lady Catherine took a seat across from Darcy, who leaned forward, steepling his fingers on top of the desk, curious as to what his aunt would say next. She had been entirely too sympathetic to his younger sister. Though she had been as good as her word since declaring she desired to regain the esteem of her family, Darcy suspected now that she was up to something.
“What I have to tell you, Fitzwilliam, may shock you,” Lady Catherine began, squaring her shoulders back as she stared evenly at him.
“I am certain it shall,” he replied.
“I mentioned before that in one regard I had not always put the best interest of this family first, and I will presently elaborate on that circumstance, as it is one which I believe may now be of the greatest assistance to us in distracting the public eye from your sister. I mean to reveal my secret to the world, though I would otherwise abhor having my private actions laid bare. However, it must be done, and not only for Georgiana’s sake.” She paused and took a deep breath before continuing.
“Twenty-seven years ago, my father took me into Kent to meet my betrothed. We were to engage in a brief period of public courtship before our union. It did not go as well as my parents desired. Sir Lewis was as attentive to me as my parents might have wished, but I did not believe we would suit, and almost from the earliest moments of my arrival at Rosings, I was determined that I should not be happy in such a marriage. As you know, a woman’s felicity in marriage is rarely of any import. My marriage was for the benefit of my father and his political ambitions – my happiness would have been nothing more than a pleasant afterthought, and my unhappiness at the time was, to my father, merely a minor irritation.”
Darcy nodded. This was by no means new information; he had understood even in his youth that his aunt and uncle in Kent did not display the symptoms of an affectionate marriage. Not entirely sure what his aunt was leading up to, but fearing the worst, he replied, “In families such as ours, wealth and importance we already possess. I married for love, and I would want the same for my sister. I will not marry her off against her will, merely because it suits my purposes – not even to remedy these unfortunate rumors.”
“That is hardly what I meant to suggest,” his aunt replied, looking rather offended by his interruption. “At any rate, though I was not best pleased by Sir Lewis, that is not to say that I did not fall in love when I went to Kent. Unfortunately, I did not fall in love with the man I was to marry, but with his nearest neighbor, the son of a lesser baronet with a significantly smaller estate. We were very often in company together, as various social outings were orchestrated for the furtherance of my courtship with Sir Lewis. Gerald’s family had an interest of their own in the matter, for his sister had long been pushed at Sir Lewis, though he knew he could do better. How I hoped that Amelia Sutton would catch him in the end, and leave her brother Gerald for me, but this only fueled my father’s resolve to push forward with the alliance before it could be shattered by the Suttons.”
Darcy sat back heavily in his seat, scarcely daring to believe what he was hearing. “You were once in love with Sir Gerald?”
Lady Catherine smiled wistfully. “I have been in love with him for more than half my life, Fitzwilliam. It has not been an easy path for us, but I believe we have a chance for happiness together yet.”
“I do not understand. Why now? You have been a widow these twenty years, and Lady Sutton has been dead for a decade at least.”
“It is not so simple,” Lady Catherine replied. “The earliest years of my marriage to Sir Lewis were… complicated. It was very hard on Gerald, seeing me wed to Sir Lewis. I hoped that our feelings would fade in time, and if Sir Lewis had ever truly loved me, I believe it would have been easier to forget my first love. My husband never cared for me, which made it all the easier for me to cling to my youthful infatuation. I shal
l spare you the details; suffice it to say that in all my seven years of marriage to Sir Lewis, my heart always belonged to another.”
“Good God,” Darcy cried, feeling all the tragedy of his aunt’s unfortunate history. He could not imagine living in the same neighborhood as his dear Elizabeth and witnessing her unhappily wed to another. “Did Sir Lewis never suspect you?”
“Of course he did. Those first few years, I hardly cared whether he did or not. I fulfilled my duty as his wife, in an effort to give him an heir and a spare, as I had been instructed to by my mother. I was but fifteen when we married, the same age as Georgiana when she was at Ramsgate. I was faithful to my husband in body, if not in spirit. After several failed attempts to do my duty, I finally bore him a daughter. He was so angry with me for not giving him his son instead, that I decided I simply no longer cared whether I pleased him, whether he suspected my true feelings. It was then that Gerald and I became lovers in every sense of the word, and it was not long after that we were discovered. I daresay you were too young to remember the months I spent living at Pemberley – you were but three years old at the time. As far as the world knew, I was there because your mother was having a difficult pregnancy – did you know she had a stillborn birth? Twins, a boy and a girl.”
Listening intently, Darcy only shook his head; though this discovery pained him, he suspected he would hear worse yet.
“It was a very sad time for us. I stayed with her for her confinement, and for many months afterwards as she recovered her spirits, but in truth my husband would not have me back at Rosings. He would not even let me visit my own daughter. I missed her first birthday. Only when Gerald finally took a wife did Sir Lewis allow me to return home. We did not see one another for almost a year after that. I was angry with him for marrying, for he claimed to love me still. He wrote to me in secret, claiming he had only taken a wife because he knew that it would secure my return to Rosings and allow me to be reunited with my daughter. I never forgave Sir Lewis for keeping me away from Anne for so many months, for when I returned she did not know me. It was almost as difficult to forgive Gerald for marrying, for Rhoda Sutton was rather pretty despite her West Indian descent, and he played the part of besotted bridegroom so well that it was the talk of the neighborhood for quite some time. How happy I thought him, while I was so terribly miserable.”