Page 20 of To Love And To Cherish
“I am Georgiana. Not a month ago, I was nearly abducted by my father’s godson. My companion uncovered his plan and fled with me before he could act on it. We walked five miles through the darkness with scarcely any money between us. I was terrified he would discover our escape and give chase. He did search for us, but my brother found us in time, and it came to nothing in the end. Still, I have been terribly unsettled ever since.”
Her voice broke. Elizabeth, wordless and gentle, offered her handkerchief and slipped an arm around the girl’s thin shoulders. Georgiana accepted it and wept quietly, her slight frame trembling with each breath.
When at last the storm passed, Elizabeth spoke, her tone gentle and steady. “Your companion was very brave. And so were you. I have never walked that far in fear, let alone in the dark, with a man in pursuit.”
They sat together in silence. Then Georgiana said softly, “I have felt an urgent need to speak of it to someone. But I cannot speak to my aunt, she would only scold my brother for entrusting me to the wrong person. He had no way of knowing. He is very busy, managing the estates, meeting with stewards, trying to learn everything our father never had the chance to teach him. One of the stewards was discovered to be embezzling, and he had to dismiss the individual, recover the funds, and hire a new person. The last thing he needs is a tearful sister or an indignant aunt scolding him for doing his best.”
Elizabeth reached over and took her hand. “I’m honored you chose to confide in me, Georgianna. I know how much lighter I feel after speaking with my Aunt Maddie; she has a way of easing burdens simply by listening. And I believe you’ll find the same relief now that you’ve let some of this go.” She smiled. “I amElizabeth, but my sisters call me Lizzy and if you’d like, you may too.”
She gave Georgiana’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “You need not fear having told me. I will carry your secret to the grave. My own mother cast me out for encouraging my sister to refuse a wealthy suitor old enough to be her grandfather. I know what it is to feel frightened, and I know how to keep a confidence.”
Georgiana took both of Elizabeth’s hands in hers and held them tightly. “Thank you for listening to me.”
The two stood, and Georgiana added softly, “I should return now. My brother will worry if I’m gone too long. I hope we shall meet again.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I walk to this mount at this hour each day. If ever you wish to speak again, you are most welcome to join me.”
Georgiana pressed her hands again. “If I can get away, I will come again.” She crossed to the far side of the field, where her groom waited with Daisy. Once mounted, she turned back and offered Elizabeth a quiet, grateful wave before riding away.
Chapter 11: Sisters
The afternoon sun cast a golden haze over the nursery bedchamber, filtering through muslin curtains and warming the old wooden floor where scraps of muslin and dimity had fallen. The room smelled of lavender sachets, dried rose hip tea, and fresh bread, scents Elizabeth associated with comfort. Once the domain of dolls and daydreams, the nursery had transformed into a sanctuary, a sacred place where the Bennet sisters could speak freely, unhampered by their mother’s schemes or the world’s expectations.
"I love this time we have together," Jane murmured, her soft smile radiant as she threaded her needle. She sat near the hearth, where a small fire warded off the chill that crept into the old house in the afternoon.
Elizabeth looked up from the seam she was stitching. “I so look forward to Mamma’s visits to Aunt Phillips or Lady Lucas. It gives us a good three hours of peace. I do not know how I would have survived my enforced isolation without these stolen hours.”
Jane gave her a sympathetic glance, but said nothing. There was nothing to be said; they had all learned to speak around the subject of their mother.
“Jane,” Mary asked, straightening a paper pattern, “can you help me draw the bodice for Abby’s dress? I will cut the cloth, but you must guide me with this part.”
“Of course,” Jane said, rising gracefully and crossing to the table. Mary moved aside to make room.
Kitty sat on the bed. “I brought Lydia’s letter,” she announced. “Papa gave it to me after breakfast. We are to destroy it before Mamma returns. Lizzy, what would she do if she knew you correspond regularly with Lydia?”
Elizabeth sighed, setting down her needle. “Poor Mamma. She is making her own life bitter by clinging to resentment. I've become her scapegoat, and I do believe she prefers it that way.”
Kitty unfolded the letter and read aloud:
I tremble when I think that Mamma will overbear Uncle Gardiner and pull me out of school to return to Longbourn. In her last letter, she said I’m nearly sixteen and quite old enough to be married and save the family from the hedgerows.
I shared the letter with Mrs. Lewis, and she advised me to write to Uncle Gardiner and tell him everything. She says he’s firm and won’t allow his sister to force me into marriage. I took my courage in hand and wrote to him yesterday; now I wait for him and Aunt Maddie to visit and advise me on what to do should Mamma act on her threat.
I wish I could depend on Papa, but we have Lizzy’s example. He loves her best, yet he let Mamma exile her for a year. And she’s still in exile, living in the nursery.
Mary’s voice broke the silence that followed. “Uncle Gardiner did our family a very good turn when he recommended that school to Papa. Lydia is so changed. I love her now, truly. And I wish only the best for her.” She hesitated. “Aunt Maddie says Lydia has become as beautiful as Jane. And that, I fear, is a death sentence for any dreams our little sister may have. Mamma will want to run her life.”
Mary glanced at Jane, then flushed. “Oh, Jane, I am sorry for saying it. Mamma has run your life for years.”
Jane only offered a quiet smile. “It is true. I pray Lydia can be spared.”
Kitty looked down at the letter she held, then back at Elizabeth. “Lizzy, you and Jane have been treated the worst. Jane, because she is best loved… and you because you are…” She faltered.
Elizabeth gave her a faint, ironic smile. “It’s all right, Kitty. Say it. It’s the truth. I am her scapegoat, and she hates me. But Jane has it worse. At least I’m not paraded before every eligible man in Hertfordshire.”
Kitty’s face was grave.
“I’ve led a peaceful life,” Elizabeth continued, threading her needle once more. “A strange reward, perhaps, for Mamma’s hatred. But Papa kept his word. None of us were ‘out’ until we turned seventeen.”
