Page 45 of Saved By Mr. Darcy
“Oh, dear Georgiana, I am afraid it is Wickham!”
Georgina’s sweet face paled, her lower lip pulled in as her brow creased in a frown. Her eyes filled with tears, though she blinked them away stubbornly.
“Truly?”
“I am sorry.”
“Fitzwilliam told you, didn’t he? He told you about Ramsgate.”
“Only in an attempt to warn me away from the man. He did not do so lightly, I know that.”
Georgiana turned away from her for a moment, scrubbing at her face. When she turned back, her eyes were red but her cheeks dry. She looked hurt, the memories of her ordeal at the hands of such a dreadful man clearly difficult to bear.
“I am ashamed,” she whispered. “I did not wish anyone to know.”
Lizzy reached for Georgiana’s hand. The young girl stepped forward, her hand warm in Lizzy’s. Tears fell against her knuckles as Georgiana at last gave in to her emotions.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Lizzy soothed. “You were so young; you are still young. He is a man as charming as I have ever met, and he had terrible intentions. You trusted him, as you had every right to do. Your brother trusted him. Mr Wickham has surely broken the faith of anyone he has ever been close to.”
Georgiana sniffled, lifting her head and blinking up at Lizzy. She wiped away the tears that stained her cheeks and rose to her feet. She moved so gracefully, Lizzy thought. Even in anguish she held herself with such decorum. Georgiana cleared her throat, vanishing the thick claw of emotion and speaking clearly.
“I was a fool to be taken in by him. I see that now. All that we might do is rescue your sister from the fate I myself narrowly avoided.”
“I fear it is far too late for that. She is ruined whatever happens, but I cannot bear to think that she is hurt. I must be with my family.”
“I understand, but you are not yet recovered. You have been in fine spirits, but do not forget how severely you were hurt. We thought you would die. You are not ready to travel, the doctor has said so.”
Lizzy was struck at how grown-up Georgiana seemed at that moment; in the absence of her brother, she had stepped into the position of Mistress of Pemberley with remarkable ease. She spoke with certainty, her childlike enthusiasm suddenly gone and replaced with an undeniable responsibility.
“I will take that chance.”
“You are stubborn,” Georgiana smiled sadly. “Very well. Half an hour, and then we shall depart.”
Half an hour later (precisely, for Georgiana was particularly punctual when she wanted to be), the four women assembled outside. The carriage had been prepared hastily; the finest one had departed with Mr Darcy, leaving the second best at their disposal.
“How are we to go about this?” Georgiana frowned as she surveyed the scene. “Lizzy, I think you must go first, and then we shall fit in around you.”
Lizzy was lifted in her chair by two footmen; she then lifted herself out and manoeuvred awkwardly onto the seat, her strapped leg set out in front of her. It was no easy feat, for her muscles were weakened from her extended bed rest. Every movement felt like she had walked a thousand miles. She settled back in the chair, inhaling deeply as a sharp twinge of pain shot through her.
The scent of the carriage enveloped her, and at once the dark wooden walls seemed to close in on her. Her breathing quickened, her fingers digging into the bench beneath her as her head began to swim. Georgiana climbed in, and the coach began to sway with the movement. A strangled gasp escaped Lizzy, tears falling down her face.
“Get me out!” she panted. “Get me out! Please, please, I…I cannot…”
“Get her out of here!” Georgiana cried, placing her hand over Lizzy’s. “We will get you out, dear Lizzy! I’m leaving you for a moment, but then we will take you inside. You are safe.”
“Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me alone, please…I cannot breathe..”
She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to dash the memories of that terrible day from her mind.
Hush now. You are safe, my darling.
Mr Darcy’s words entered her mind, the memory of his voice and calm demeanour doing some small thing to sooth her discomfort. She exhaled deeply, trying to tell herself that she was safe. She would leave the carriage in a moment and be on solid ground. She need never travel in a carriage again if she did not wish it, for she had a home – and that home was Pemberley.
The footmen removed her from the carriage and placed her safely back in her chair. It was only when she felt the wicker beneath her, her leg arranged in its footplate with great care, that she felt safe to open her eyes. She was surrounded by people, concern etched on each of their faces. She did not wish to see pity.
“Lizzy, are you…”
“I am well. I am well. We will stay here, and wait for news. Georgiana, may we walk?”
