P&P Prelude to Pemberley: Darcy discovers the truth

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.

Darcy Discovers the Truth

July 8, 1811

Darcy could not stop thinking about his sister’s letter as he rode to Ramsgate. He was gripped with a sense of urgency. He could only hope he would arrive in time to prevent his sister from doing something foolish. It was only when he caught a glimpse of the sea spread out in the distance that he allowed his mount to slow down marginally. Half an hour later, he had reached his destination. He had made it without incident, and for that, he had to be grateful.

Ramsgate was a bustling garrison town, the harbor teeming with horses and soldiers embarking and disembarking to and from their journeys to the Continent. Beyond the harbor, Darcy passed the Albion Hotel where the Duke of Clarence had recently hosted what was described as one of the most splendid balls ever held.

The sight of the hotel almost brought him to a halt as he wondered if Georgiana had met one of the officers who attended the ball. If that was the case, perhaps the situation was not as bad as Darcy feared. If Georgiana had fallen in love, and the gentleman in question was a decent type, Darcy would not stand in the way of his sister’s happiness. Georgiana was too young to be married now, but Darcy would be open to the idea of a long engagement.

If only that was the case! It was doubtful that anyone who was encouraging a fifteen-year-old to elope was likely to have good intentions. His anxiety returning threefold, he continued onwards, slowing down now to check the street signs.

He found Chatham Street, and then he was there, in front of an unassuming white house where his sister was lodging. As he dismounted, a footman came out to lead the horse to the mews, looking ill at ease when Darcy introduced himself.

A few minutes later, Darcy entered the drawing room. He found Georgiana looking over some fashion plates at a small table. As she caught sight of him, she straightened up, her eyes brightening.

“Brother!” she said with a pleased smile, “I did not expect you so soon. Did you receive my letter? I am very glad you have come.”

There was no doubting her sincerity. He had read the situation correctly, then. The letter had been a test of his regard, and he had passed. He felt an intense sense of relief, along with a pang. How could she doubt his devotion to her?

Taking her hand, he regarded her fondly, noting the dark circles under her eyes. The ‘happy plans’ were clearly not as ‘happy’ as she had suggested. Clearly, something was weighing her down.

“So am I,” he replied. “I hope we will be able to enjoy Ramsgate together. I intend to stay for a while.”

Her eyes clouded over. “I am not sure—” she broke off.

The expression on her face alarmed him. He wanted to ply her with questions, but he knew he had to tread softly. Their newly forged connection was fragile and could break at any minute. There was no room for error.

He sat down, trying his best not to seem concerned, and waited for her to continue. The silence extended.

He probed gently. “What are you unsure of?”

“Nothing,” she replied.

There was clearly something bothering her, but he pretended not to see it. Instead, he started to talk of plans, and things he wanted to do, and where they could go together.

“Is the lending library any good?” he asked.

“I have not been yet,” she replied. She laced her fingers together, looking flustered. “William, I need to tell you something.”

His shoulders stiffened in preparation, but he schooled his expression, trying his best to show that he was open to anything she had to say.

“I did not know you would come so quickly, or I would have waited. But now you are here, all will be well. I am sure of it.” Her cheeks were flushed, a smile on her lips. “I would prefer to have your blessing, William. That is why I wrote to you. I do not want to elope. I would rather marry properly. It is just that—” she looked at Darcy beseechingly, color staining her cheeks, “— I love him. He has been courting me since I first arrived. He is so impatient for us to be together— we planned to leave tonight.”

The room felt suffocating. He could scarcely breath. Tonight? So much for hoping that the man was not a fortune hunter. If his intentions were indeed honorable, why was he in such a hurry to marry Georgiana? At fifteen, she could not marry without her guardian’s permission. It meant they were going to Scotland.

Darcy swallowed the bile that was burning his throat. “I want you to be happy, Georgie. If you truly love him, and he truly loves you, I will not stand in your way.”

Heavens help him. What was he supposed to do in this situation? How could he resolve this? If he separated Georgie from the man she loved, she would never forgive him.

“I would like to meet this – gentleman – and talk to him. I agree with you. Eloping is not the best way of getting married. There is no need to create a scandal. I am sure we can find a solution.”

Darcy spoke carefully, choking back his fury and exerting all the power of his will to sound neutral. He was close to losing his sister – mere hours away from having some greedy, unscrupulous man take control of Georgiana’s fortune, destroying her life in the process.

“Yes,” said Georgiana, eagerly, “If the two of you talk it over—. Oh, I am so happy you have come. And it is not as if he is a complete stranger. You grew up together. George will be pleased to see you.”

Grew up together? George. The word roared in his ears. George Wickham. George Wickham was courting his young sister. He had to stop himself from jumping up and shouting, from cursing the bad luck that had sent Georgiana to Ramsgate, only for her to encounter his childhood adversary.

Completely unaware of the havoc she had created, Georgiana now began to relate some of the details of her encounter with Wickham. She spoke enthusiastically about him, detailing his attributes, recounting memories of their many encounters, and dwelling on how happy she was with him. Each word was like a blow to the pit of Darcy’s stomach.

It took an intense amount of resolve for Darcy to sit still in his chair and listen. He needed to know how this disaster had come about. Then suddenly, at the mention of Mrs. Younge’s name, he had his answer as his mind finally registered her absence.

“Where is Mrs. Younge?”

Georgiana blinked, taken aback by the interruption. “I believe she had to run some errands.”

What kind of errands? Was Mrs. Younge implicated in the elopement plans? Had Wickham charmed her into aiding him?

“Did she chaperone you while you met with Wickham?”

“Yes. She insisted on maintaining the proprieties,” said Georgiana, with cheerful innocence. “She accompanied us everywhere.”

In other words, Mrs. Younge was in Wickham’s pocket. The teacher he had trusted to take care of his sister, who was meant to ensure Georgiana came to no harm, was assisting Wickham in his scheming.

How long had this been going on? Someone must have told Wickham that Georgiana had moved to Ramsgate. There were only two possible choices: Georgiana herself, or Mrs. Younge.

Darcy felt sick. Either possibility was unthinkable. He could scarcely breathe as the extent of Wickham’s villainy dawned on him. That Wickham could so cold-bloodedly pursue the daughter of the man who had treated him so well! Who had raised him like a son! That he could be so callous as to take advantage of her vulnerability, when Wickham had known Georgiana as a little girl!

Darcy longed to ask Georgiana for more details, but he was worried he would lose his self-possession when he heard the answers. He was burning with fury, and he did not know how much longer he could keep his composure. He did not want Georgiana to panic and do something irrevocable out of sheer defiance.

He rose, walked over to the window, and look out at the Georgian houses across the street, trying to calm his racing thoughts. When he turned back to look at Georgiana, her brow was furrowed, and she was regarding him uneasily. As her letter had proved, Georgiana was more discerning than she seemed. She was pleased to have him here, but that could change if she felt Darcy was trying to stop her from doing what she wanted. He had to tread carefully. He did not want to drive her straight into George Wickham’s arms.

If only he could warn her and tell her what Wickham was really like, but he knew from experience it would not do any good. She would not believe him. Even Papa had refused to listen to Darcy. How much more difficult it would be to convince a young girl who believed she was in love! No, there was no point in trying to reason with Georgiana. A few words from Darcy would not dissuade her.

How was it that people like Wickham could hold such sway over others? How were people controlled so easily? Darcy had never understood Wickham’s appeal.

Georgiana had no idea what Wickham was capable of. The scoundrel would gamble away her fortune, leaving her destitute. She was sleepwalking into a nightmare. Darcy could write to Colonel Fitzwilliam to inform him of the situation, but it was unlikely his cousin would do anything.

Darcy was the only one standing between Georgiana and the abyss. If it meant challenging Wickham to a duel, so be it. He was willing to take the risk. He had to save his little sister.

A quiet sense of resolve took over him. The time for talking was over. It was time to take action.

“I am going to step out, to take a turn around the neighborhood and stretch my legs,” he said. He disliked deception, but he was worried that she might warn Wickham and hatch another plan with him. How much should he tell her?

He settled for a half-truth. “I want to see if I can locate Mrs. Younge.”

He strode out of the room, determined to find the villain if he had to search Ramsgate house by house. He went to the servants’ entrance, where he found a serving girl scrubbing the floor. She jumped up and bobbed when she saw him. Word had spread of his arrival, it seemed.

“Where can I find Mrs. Younge?”

“You just missed her, sir. She went out. She was in a rush.”

“Do you know where she was going?”

The maid shuffled her feet, uncertain where her loyalty lay. Darcy did not have the time for this. He reach into his pocket for a coin and handed it to her. Her eyes widened as she looked at it.

“If I had to make a guess, sir, I would say she went to meet Mr. Wickham.”

There it was, clear as day now. The two of them had planned this together. “Do you happen to know where Mr. Wickham is staying?”

“Yes, sir. I was sent there with messages. It’s The Jolly Sailor, down by the harbor. It’s a rough area. Not a place for a gentleman, sir.”

As if it mattered! All Darcy cared about was making sure Georgiana did not come to any harm. He strode as quickly as he could in the direction of the harbor. Behind him, he heard a door slam. He looked back to find Georgiana following him.

“If you are going to talk to George, Brother, I want to come with you.”

The last thing he wanted was for her to witness the unpleasantness.

“Go back, Georgiana. I will deal with this.”

She shook her head stubbornly. “I want to be there when you talk to George. You cannot stop me.”

Darcy sent her a sharp look. “Do you know where his lodgings are?”

“No. Of course not,” she replied, offended. “How could you even think I would?”

“I am pleased to hear it,” he remarked.

Darcy had no idea what airs Wickham had put on. Perhaps it would be good for her to discover the man, stripped of any illusions.

“If you must join me, then we must hurry. The maid seemed to think Mrs. Younge departed with some of her belongings.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I cannot say. I suppose we will find out.”

When they reached the harbor, Darcy asked about The Jolly Sailor. They were pointed in the direction of a narrow alleyway. The walls of the alleyway hemmed them in, the stench of rotting fish surrounding them. Two sailors stumbled towards them, swaying drunkenly. One of them called out to Georgiana.

“’ello! What’s a proper young ‘un like you doin’ ‘ere? Want to join me?” He leered at her through red-rimmed eyes.

Darcy would have liked to slam a fist in his face, but he had other matters to attend to.

He drew Georgiana close to him and wished he had not brought her with him.

“Hold onto my arm,” he said. “Stick to me, no matter what happens.”

From the way she clung to him, he could tell she was unlikely to defy him.

As they reached the inn, he hesitated, wondering if he was doing the right thing by coming here. But it was too late, now. Holding her firmly, he stepped through the doorway. They were met with the reek of stale beer, unwashed bodies and other unsavory odors. Darcy struggled not to gag.

Georgiana was looking around her uneasily. “Who told you to come here, William? Why would you think George is here?”

“You can ask him yourself when you see him.”

Her gaze took in a woman at the counter lifting her skirt and edging up to a customer.

“Better not to look,” said Darcy, grimly.

He marched up to the innkeeper and tossed him a coin. “I’m looking for a Mr. George Wickham.”

The innkeeper gave a gap-toothed grin. “Mr. Wickham, you say? You owe me much more than this. One of the maids spotted him leaving through the back door with all his belongings. Seeing as you’re a gentleman and you seem acquainted, perhaps you’d like to settle his unpaid bill?”

Darcy took out a few more coins and laid them on the counter. “When did he leave?”

“Not more than five minutes ago. He seemed in an awful hurry. Anyone would think the bailiffs were after him.” The man chuckled. “Better hurry if you want to catch him.”

“Did a woman come looking for him?” Darcy asked, wondering where Mrs. Younge had gone.

“A woman came in not too long ago. She looked like she was running off herself. I think she came to warn him.”

Darcy could feel Georgiana’s small frame shaking at his side. He felt immeasurably sad. He wished he could have spared her this, but perhaps this was the best way for her to find out.

“Let’s see if we can catch them,” said Darcy.

As they stepped out, a horse thundered by, splashing them both with foul water from the cobbled street. There was no mistaking the figure riding the horse.

“George!” cried Georgiana. “George! Please!”

If Wickham heard her, he gave no sign of it.

***

Read all the scenes in Prelude to Pemberley here!