Page 82 of Companions of Their Youth
“Come in, Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet said, waving her toward a chair.
“Mr. Darcy is here because he needs our help. I thought you might be able to contribute some useful ideas.”
She turned to Darcy, brows raised.
He sat forward, hands clasped between his knees, his face pale and tense. “It is my sister,” he said. “Georgiana. She arrived at Netherfield today—without warning. There has been a… situation.”
He explained everything. Her sudden arrival. Her scandalous flirtation. Her vile treatment of Mrs. Younge. Her tantrums, and the shattering sounds that had echoed through the yellow room as he had locked her inside.
Elizabeth sat back, stunned. “She threw a chamber pot at her?”
Darcy nodded miserably. “It struck Mrs. Younge quite hard. She resigned on the spot.”
“Good heavens,” Mr. Bennet murmured.
“I certainly cannot blame her,” Elizabeth said. “The poor woman.”
“I—I do not know what to do,” Darcy said, his voice low. “I have completely failed my sister.”
“No,” Elizabeth said at once. “You have done the best you could under difficult circumstances. It sounds as though you have done more than most brothers would even attempt.”
“Then how has it gone so utterly wrong?” Darcy’s shoulders slumped.
“Even though it may not seem like it,” Elizabeth said, “most poor behavior does have a logical reason, even if that logic only makes sense to that person. You need to start looking for thewhyof the behavior.”
“I do not even know where to begin.”
The despair in Darcy’s tone nearly broke Elizabeth’s heart. “When did all of this begin?” she asked gently.
He sighed. “It was such a gradual shift. I first became aware of her temperament changing some three years ago. She hadjust turned twelve years of age, and she starting acting sullen and withdrawn. I thought perhaps she was lonely, so my cousin Richard—he is her other guardian—and I agreed to send her to finishing school, one that came highly recommended by my aunt, Lady Matlock.”
Mr. Bennet snorted. “I imagine that she returned from there as a completely different creature.”
“Precisely,” Darcy groaned. “I visited her weekly when I was in London, but she only grew colder and more distant. I told myself she simply needed time to adjust. That it was adolescence, or grief over losing our father, or growing pains. But now…”
His voice trailed off, heavy with guilt.
“Did she enjoy school?”
“No. It was rigid. Competitive. Focused on refinement, deportment, and… social perfection.” He grimaced. “She hated every moment. By the time she came home that first summer, she was… changed. She smiled less. Laughed never. And when she did speak, it was all sharpness and spite.”
Elizabeth winced. “But you kept trying, did you not?”
“Yes, of course. It was around that time that I decided her schoolmates were a poor influence on her. I removed her from the school immediately and hired Mrs. Younge. But instead of being grateful, Georgiana was furious with me. In order to placate her, I sent her to Ramsgate for a holiday, hoping it would make her happier.”
Elizabeth absorbed this. “What does a typical day look like for her? What is her routine?”
“Only the typical schedules for a young lady of her station. Masters for the piano, drawing, and dancing; a governess for lessons on history and literature, along with a bit of mathematics and science; meetings with the housekeeper to learn what is entailed in running a household…”
Darcy’s voice trailed off for a moment, then he said. “I thought if I kept her busy, she would not have time to think about her unhappiness. But no matter what I did, she became increasingly more rebellious. She ignored Mrs. Younge’s schedule, refused to dress properly, slammed doors, mocked the servants…and that was in the weekspriorto her trip to the sea.”
“And how did you respond?”
“Usually by sending her to her room, but it was not much of a punishment. She could lay in bed, order food from the kitchens, and read novels. Then after Ramsgate… I did not wish to pressure her too much. She told me shehatedme.”
“That was kind of you,” Elizabeth said gently. “But routine and consistency are not severity. They are stability.”
Mr. Bennet added, “Especially for a headstrong young lady in the throes of independence and hormones. And let us not pretend those are easy waters to navigate—for her or for you.”
