Page 61 of Sweet on Mr Darcy

The worst part of it all was that Mr Darcy was still making excuses for Wickham, blaming himself, and anyone else he could think of. Sadly, he never blamed the one person who deserved it, and it was for this reason that Darcy refused to discuss the matter with his father at all. Mr Darcy knew that his son was handling matters, but he had no idea how–or how far–his son would take the matter, and it distressed him profoundly.

The feminine residents of the house were effectively confined until Darcy decreed that they might re-enter society. Georgiana had retreated almost entirely into herself. Once again, the girl was quiet, pale, and behaved like the timid girl her father had retrieved from school in the spring. Her loss of confidence was painful to witness.

Priscilla had no intention of allowing her to continue thus.

“You cannot continue to castigate yourself, Cousin. I will not permit it,” Priscilla insisted.

“I cannot be so forgiving to myself.” Georgiana stared out the window. “I have been so foolish.”

“That is entirely the point of being sixteen, Cousin. That is why we have family and friends to guide us,” Priscilla said sternly. “You were misled by your own companion, the woman who was hired to protect you, and an accomplished scoundrel with handsome looks designed to bring about a female’s downfall. You were even lulled into security in his presence by your own father, who was taken in by the villain for far too long.”

“Do not speak ill of my father!” Georgiana cried. “He is a good man. He–”

“Of course not, dear.” Priscilla interrupted before her cousin could begin crying afresh. “I would never speak against my uncle, who is everything good and kind. But he is also ill, Georgie. His affections and his condition weakened him to the blandishments of Wickham, and his trust in the villain led you to believe in the evil man’s goodness. As much as I respect and admire my uncle, I will not overlook his part in the matter. “

At this, Georgiana did begin to weep all over again. “My poor father.”

“I blame myself as much as anyone, Georgiana.” Priscilla took her hand. “I came to Ramsgate with the intention of guiding you. Your brother and I have worried about this very circumstance coming to pass. I should have spoken with you, warned you of his misdeeds and the danger. Darcy and I sheltered and protected you far too much when we ought to have taken you into our confidence, for you are nearly grown up now. If we had armed you with the truth of Wickham, you would never have fallen for his lies, and I should never have allowed you to be left alone with that companion. I disliked her as soon as I met her. From now on, Cousin. I promise to tell you exactly what I think of a person. I am not one to keep my opinions to myself, but perhaps I did too much in this case, and I regret it. I am sorry. Please, forgive me.”

“How could you require my forgiveness after what I have done?” Georgiana wiped her eyes.

“I simply do, my dear. I protected you in quite the wrong way, and I pray that you will forgive me. Keeping my thoughts from you nearly destroyed your life.”

“Elizabeth will never think well of me again,” Georgiana sniffed miserably. “Why would any of the Bennets wish to speak to me after what I have done?”

“Now, is that likely, after the charming package they sent to you yesterday?” Priscilla asked. “They went to your favourite sweet shop and sent us all our favourite confections, and Lydia even sent you that lovely bouquet of flowers. I am certain she picked and arranged it herself. We are confined to the house until your brother has made us safe, but our friends will be waiting when it is over.”

Anne was troubled by matters of a more romantic consideration. Days had passed since Mr Bingley had promised to teach her how to dance. Had he forgotten? Was she so uninteresting as to leave his thoughts the moment she was out of his sight?

“It is an unreasonable delay,” she complained. “How unfair that villainy must interfere with my plans.”

Mr Bingley appeared on Saturday, with a lovely arrangement of flowers and enough cheer that everyone in the house must be improved by his appearance, in Anne’s opinion.

Anne had never received flowers before from anyone except her cousins on her birthday. It had never occurred to her that she might merit such attention. She blushed as they were presented.

Mr Bingley bowed over her hand with gratifying seriousness. “Miss de Bourgh, I hope you will forgive my tardiness. I have been assisting your cousin, but I am here to keep my promise.”

“Of course, Mr Bingley. It is good of you to remember.” Anne set the flowers aside.

“I trust you have not overexerted yourself since I last saw you? I would hate to see you take ill if we forge ahead when we ought to have waited.” His expression was hopeful.

“I have done nothing but look at clothes since we last met,” Anne assured him.

“Excellent! I admire your restraint, Miss de Bourgh.” He smiled gently. “It would not do to strain yourself. Now, we need someone to play the instrument. Might one of your cousins indulge us?”

He rang for the maid, and some minutes later, they were joined by Georgiana, who went quietly to the window without speaking, and Priscilla, who was prepared to be of assistance.

“First, I should like to have Lady Priscilla demonstrate the steps if she will be so kind. And perhaps Miss Darcy would assist us at the pianoforte?” Mr Bingley directed.

“Oh! I could not possibly, just now.” Georgiana nearly flinched at the request.

“Of course you can, Miss Darcy,” Mr Bingley encouraged. “It is only a dance lesson for your cousin. Nothing scandalous. It is not even a Sunday. It cannot be considered wicked.”

Georgiana smiled slightly at his cheer, and Priscilla looked triumphant as her cousin began to play, for she had not touched the instrument in days.

Priscilla raised her skirts a few inches so her cousin could observe her steps. Mr Bingley took Anne’s hand and led her to stand beside her cousin, and tentatively, she began to imitate Priscilla.

“One, two, three–one, two, three–very good, Miss de Bourgh!” Mr Bingley praised. “See, it is not so very hard.”