P&P Prelude to Pemberley: Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam Discuss Georgiana’s Situation

Welcome to our Pride & Prejudice prequel! P&P: Prelude to Pemberley tells the story of the time leading up to the events of Pride & Prejudice, including what Darcy and Elizabeth were doing and thinking, Georgiana Darcy’s story, the events of Ramsgate, how Mr. Bingley came to lease Netherfield, and much more! Join us on our journey as the Austen Variations authors post the events of 1811 in real time on the date they happened – 214 years in the future.

April 16, 1811

Easter Sunday had come and gone, yet two days later, as Darcy and his cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam dined with their aunt at Rosings, Lady Catherine spent most of the dinner congratulating herself – once again – on her choice of the new rector.

“I am very partial to Mr. Collins. His Easter sermon was delightful, was it not? Of course, since he is new in the position, he could not be expected to understand the needs of our Hunsford parishioners. Fortunately for him, I was at hand to provide him with my experience and to give him my expert advice.” She fixed her gaze on Darcy. “Take heed, Darcy. Never appoint a rector who thinks himself too proud to bow to your superior knowledge. He will not serve the parish well.” She gave a satisfied nod. “I have chosen very well indeed.”

Darcy refrained from pointing out that Mr. Collins was exactly the groveling kind of rector Darcy would never wish to appoint. He glanced across at his cousin, whose eyes glinted with laughter as he kicked Darcy under the table.

“Congratulations, Aunt,” said the colonel, for perhaps the tenth time. “I am glad you are happy with your choice.”

By now, Darcy was heartily sick of hearing about Mr. Collins. Still, he would rather talk about Mr. Collins than Lady Catherine’s other favorite topics of conversation, namely Darcy’s marriage to Anne, and Georgiana’s unruly behavior. At least Mr. Collins provided a distraction.

Unfortunately, not for long enough. A few minutes later, when the tablecloth had been removed and dessert was served, Lady Catherine looked up from her pudding and gave him a disapproving look. He shuddered inwardly, knowing his reprieve had ended.

“What news of Georgiana, Darcy? I have been waiting for a letter from her this past week, Darcy. She has neglected to send me her Easter wishes. Her manners are growing more and more appalling. You must write to her immediately and remind her of her duty towards me.”

Darcy could not very well reply that writing to his sister would be pointless. Georgiana had not written to wish him a happy Easter either. In fact, she had not even answered his last two letters.

Colonel Fitzwilliam took it upon himself to answer. “You must not take offence, Lady Catherine. As Mama says, Georgiana is at that troublesome age when she cares less about duty than about fashion and fripperies and friends.”

Darcy vaguely heard his aunt saying something in response, but he was not interested in her observations. Georgiana may be at a troublesome age, but it still upset him greatly to see her withdrawing from him like this. He missed her sweet, affectionate letters. The shy, gentle Georgiana he used to know was fast disappearing. He was beginning to feel he hardly knew her anymore. Was he about to lose her? Was she turning into a stranger?

He still saw her as his little sister. He could recall perfectly how her little hand had felt in his, the day he had taken her to her first riding lesson. She had clung to him in terror, her little shoulders shaking, while he whispered words of reassurance to her. A short time later, he had smiled and waved at her as she sat on the pony, her fear dissolving as the wonder of riding took over.

The scrape of chairs against the floor brought Darcy back to the present. The ladies had come to their feet and were about to withdraw to the parlor.

“I will leave you gentlemen to your brandy. Do not linger too long. I will have the table set for cards,” said Lady Catherine. “Come, Anne.”

As the ladies left and the door closed behind them, the colonel turned to Darcy. “You seem more distracted than usual, Darcy. Is there something on your mind?”

“I am growing concerned about Georgiana. It is not like her to be so negligent. I can understand her not wanting to write to her aunt, but she is not answering my letters, either.”

“Nor mine.” The colonel looked thoughtful.

His cousin’s words reinforced his worry. Darcy had hoped Georgiana was at least in touch with someone. He took up his brandy and tossed it back in one gulp.

“It was much easier when she was a child.” He shook his head. “I find it impossible to reconcile that little girl with someone who would pull out another girl’s hair and break her tooth. The Georgiana I knew would never hurt a fly. Perhaps I should have listened when she asked me to take her out of school.”

The colonel poured him more brandy. “No. You did the right thing. It is important for her to learn to deal with her peers and navigate her life among girls her age. You would not have done her a favor if you disrupted her whole life just because things were difficult.”

“It is just so hard to understand. It is so unlike her to do something like that.” Darcy took the bottle from his cousin and poured himself another glass.

Colonel Fitzwilliam shrugged. “It could happen to anyone. I suppose. I have seen men crack under pressure. Perhaps it is a good thing for her to defend herself. She is learning to stand up for herself. Remember what we had to deal with at Eton.”

“But is violence the answer? And is it normal a girl of fifteen to attack another girl?”

“I have no experience of young girls, but I have seen grown women attacking each other and engaging in physical fights.”

“Where have you seen that?”

His cousin had the audacity to grin. “In a fish market.”

“In a fish market! May I remind you that we have spent a fortune at that school to ensure that Georgina does not behave like a woman in a fish market. We sent her to one of the best academies for young ladies so she would learn proper conduct, conduct suitable for a well-bred young lady.”

“You worry too much, Darcy,” said the colonel. “Just think back to our own schooling. How often did the boys get into fights at Eton, in your experience?”

“All the time. But surely it cannot be the same. Girls are supposed to be the gentle sex, are they not?”

“If you saw my sisters screaming at each other when they were her age, you would not think that.”

“Fortunately, I have been spared that,” said Darcy, drily. “It is just that I find it hard not to keep thinking of Georgiana the way she was, a little girl in pigtails, running across the meadow in Pemberley.”

“Remember the time when she cried because the goat ate her bonnet?”

Darcy smiled fondly. “She would not stop crying. I had to ride to Lambton to beg the milliner to produce a new one as quickly as possible.”

“It was a terrible bonnet, as I recall. But come, Darcy. You should not talk about her as if she has died,” said his cousin with a laugh. “Drinking is making your melancholy.”

“Well, the Georgina we know has died, and who knows who she will become?”

His cousin clapped him on the shoulder. “Georgina is a good person. She has a good heart. There is no reason for that to change. Deep inside, I am sure she is still the same.”

Darcy considered his cousin’s words, then nodded slowly. “Perhaps you are right. And she is like me. She does not connect easily with strangers. I have a very hard time making friends.”

“To say the least! As far as I know, only one person can put up with you long enough to be your friend, and that person is Charles Bingley.”

“I do have other friends,” said Darcy, stung. “Bingley is merely the closest.”

The colonel chuckled. “One day you must tell me how you two became such good friends. It is still a mystery to me.”

“One day, but not tonight. I am in danger of drinking too much. I had better stop.” He came to his feet. “I am off to bed.”

“And I am off to explain to my aunt why you will not join me in the parlor,” remarked his cousin. “She is not going to be happy.”

Darcy grimaced. “Well, she will just have to stuff it.”

“Darcy! I am shocked!” The colonel put his hand to his heart in mock astonishment.

Darcy’s lips twitched. “For a military man, you seem to possess remarkably delicate sensibilities.”

***

When Darcy woke up, his head was throbbing. He did not know if it was a result of a restless night thinking about Georgiana’s situation, or simply because he had indulged more than usual in brandy the night before.

When he arrived at the breakfast table, Colonel Fitzwilliam was already there, looking none the worse for wear. As Darcy sat down, a footman approached him with a letter on a salver.

Darcy took it and, as he spotted the familiar seal of Miss Dalrymple’s Seminary, his mood lightened.

“It seems we were worrying for nothing,” said Darcy. “Georgiana has written to me, though why the letter has the official seal of Miss Dalrymple’s Seminary, I have no idea. I do hope she has written to my aunt as well, or I will never hear the end of it.”

He cut open the seal and unfolded the letter. It took no more than a second to see that the large, sloping handwriting was not Georgiana’s. Darcy disappointment was profound, but it quickly became mixed with dread as he read through the content of the letter.

“Well?” said the colonel, with a lopsided smile.

Darcy merely grunted as he continued with to read, growing more and more irate. When he reached the end, he swore, loudly and distinctly, and tossed the offending missive on the table.

“What is it that has you in such a state, Darcy?” said the colonel, alarmed. “Has something else happened with Georgiana?”

“No, nothing new,” said Darcy. “It is just that the family of the girl who was injured has escalated the situation. They are demanding an official letter of apology from Georgiana, as well as an apology to Miss Lloyd herself, but Georgiana is refusing to do either.”

“She is a stubborn thing, isn’t she?” said the colonel, with a note of admiration in his voice. “She is coming into her own, it seems.”

“Richard, you should not be encouraging such behavior. How would it be if one of your officers attacked another and refused to apologize? How can you maintain discipline if each of your soldiers does as he chooses?”

“I am with you there. Maintaining discipline is crucial. I would never actually encourage Georgiana. Who do you take me for? When I see her, I will make it very clear that what she had done – and continues to do – is unacceptable. I even wrote that in my last letter. It was just that I am starting to wonder if Georgiana isn’t another Lady Catherine in the making, and while I may not be overly fond of that possibility, I would much rather have Georgiana be forceful than be a timid mouse.” His cousin chuckled. “Imagine two Lady Catherines in the family! Our Easter visits will be much more eventful than they have been so far!”

Darcy gritted his teeth. “Richard, this is no joking matter.”

Though, seen in this light, perhaps things were not so very bad. Darcy doubted very much that Lady Catherine was a paragon of good behavior at Georgiana’s age. He would have to probe his aunt to find out more about what she was like as a child.

Just then, the sound of Lady Catherine’s voice reached him as she scolded one of the footmen. The last thing Darcy wanted was another lecture about getting married soon to prevent Georgiana from turning into a hoyden.

“We had better continue this conversation outside,” he remarked, tightly, determined to get away before she cornered them and made it hard for them to escape. “I would rather not discuss this in front of our aunt.”

The Colonel rose with the swift grace of a military officer used to sudden interruptions.

“By all means, let us go outside. I could do with some fresh air.”

As soon as they were clear of the front door, the colonel turned to Darcy. “Well, come on, tell me. What else did the letter say?”

Darcy was seized by a powerful sense of agitation. “More of the same, except that the headmistress says I must come immediately and talk to Georgiana. She has become impossibly obstinate. I cannot delay. I must go at once, Richard. I have the feeling something is wrong, and I need to sort it out.”

“Then you must do what is necessary. I will make my excuses to our aunt. I will tell her you were called to London on an urgent business matter.”

***

Darcy ordered the coach to be brought round and departed as quickly as was humanly possible. It was a relief, in a way, to be doing something. He would much rather go and speak to Georgiana directly than stay at Rosings trying to guess why he had not heard from her. His agitation melted away, to be replaced by a strong conviction that he was doing the right thing.

Bright sunshine slanted through the window unto his face. Darcy winced and closed his eyes, willing the pain in his head to subside.

He must have fallen asleep because, as the wheel of carriage hit a rut in the road, he jerked awake. Suddenly, a memory flashed into his mind of the time he had lost his temper at one of the boys at Eton. The boy was John Edwards, Viscount Clements.

At the time, Darcy had a notebook in which he had painstakingly written out all the declensions and verb conjugations from his Latin class. It had taken months for Darcy to be finally satisfied that he had covered everything he needed. He was determined to excel in the Classics, and the notebook was his means of doing so. Clements, who roomed with Darcy, often mocked Darcy’s obsession with the notebook, believing it was some kind of diary where Darcy wrote his thoughts.

One day, when Darcy was distracted, Clements grabbed the notebook and took it outside. Darcy chased after him. Seeing that Darcy was about to catch up, Clements threw the notebook into a puddle of water and stamped on it. Darcy stood shock still, staring as all his efforts were erased, watching silently as the ink flowed from the pages and turned the water dark.

For the first and last time in his life, Darcy was gripped by a cold fury. His hands curled into fists, and he began to pommel Clements. He was dragged away by a teacher and brought before the headmaster, who demanded an immediate apology. Darcy could still feel his younger self’s defiance, his sense of pride, his refusal to capitulate. Clements was at fault, not him, and he would not stoop to apologize.

Papa had come up to Eton. He had taken Darcy on a long drive in his carriage and explained that gentlemen always apologized if they had done something wrong. Darcy recalled his father’s exact words.

“Never let your pride get in the way of you being a better person.”

That day, after he returned to school, Darcy did what was expected and so did Clements. They had not become friends, exactly, but they had come to respect each other. They even dined together at the club every now and then.

They had never mentioned the incident, and Darcy had completely forgotten about it. Until now.

He would tell Georgiana the story, Darcy decided. He would pass on what their father had told him. Like him, she would understand the importance of apologizing. She would understand that she could not allow her pride to get in the way of making friends. Even if they were an old family with a proud pedigree, she should not consider herself superior to the people around her. Georgiana was simply in need of direction, as Darcy had needed it when he was her age.

He just needed to talk to her. If she spent time with him, it would all be resolved. Perhaps he could take rooms at the George and Dragon after all. He and Georgiana could go riding together, and they could talk. He would tell her stories about their parents. He would take her to Gunter’s, and to the seamstress for a new gown, and enjoy the spring weather.

A smile settled on his face. There was a solution to everything, and he had found it. All would be well.

Read all the scenes in Prelude to Pemberley here!