Rebellion at Longbourn

“Can you tell me more?”

The other woman remained silent for so long that Elizabeth wondered if she would speak at all. But suddenly words burst out of her. “I do not believe I wish to marry!” She immediately slapped a hand over her mouth as if her words were obscene.

Elizabeth considered a minute before responding and took care to keep her tone soft and reasonable. “That is not such an outrageous idea. My sister Mary has said she does not intend to marry, and I—” Elizabeth stopped before she blithely included herself in the tally. Her marital prospects were still grim, and she had no intention of seeking a husband.

But the previous night she had admitted to herself that she had feelings for Mr. Darcy. Furthermore, after nearly kissing him on the terrace, she could hardly disavow any inclination toward romance. Naturally, any romantic ideas about Mr. Darcy were foolish and not to be entertained. But she had discovered a new and previously unknown aspect of her character: while Mary and Georgiana would shun marriage under any circumstances, the same might not be true for Elizabeth.

But this was mere fancy. She was in no position to contemplate marriage, and Mr. Darcy would not consider it. Pushing such idle thoughts aside, Elizabeth focused her attention on the other woman.

“But every woman wishes to marry!” Georgiana exclaimed. “I feel that not wanting it…there must be something terribly wrong with me. I must be monstrous!”

“My understanding is that you do not need to marry. Is that correct?” Elizabeth asked gently.

Georgiana twisted her fingers in the skirt of her dress. “I need not wed

for money. I will inherit my fortune at age twenty, whether I am married or not.”

“You are in a position many women would envy,” Elizabeth said, deliberately avoiding bitter thoughts.

“I suppose. But marriage is what every woman dreams of. What sort of woman does not wish to marry?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Perhaps a very wise one?”

Georgiana’s eyes widened in shock, and then she giggled.

“Do you know why you feel this way?” Elizabeth asked.

Georgiana stared at the tangled vines on the other side of the pathway. “My brother told you what happened with Mr. Wickham?” Elizabeth nodded. “He…seduced me.” Elizabeth said nothing, hoping her face did not betray her shock. From Mr. Darcy’s words, she had believed he had merely foiled an elopement. She did not realize that Georgiana’s virtue had been lost.

“I did not like…the act. I did not like the way it made me feel. It was…unpleasant.”

“I would imagine those were not ideal circumstances,” Elizabeth said, searching for a way to discuss such an intimate subject. “With a husband who loved you, it might be different.”

“Perhaps.” Georgiana pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at the tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. “But how would I know if he truly cared about me? I thought Mr. Wickham loved me, but he only wanted my money. If we had married, he would have controlled me and my money. And I would have been powerless!” A tear slipped down the young woman’s cheek, but she did not give way to sobs.

Elizabeth’s first impulse was to assure Georgiana that Mr. Wickham was not a typical man and that she would surely find someone to love her, but she checked herself. Elizabeth herself had seen many marriages that were less than ideal; no doubt Georgiana had as well. Platitudes would not set her mind at ease.

Nor was Georgiana wrong that she would enter the marriage mart as a highly desirable “prize.” Few women had a dowry the size of Darcy’s sister. Her fears were quite justified.

“I think,” Elizabeth said slowly, “marriage can be frightening for a woman. Men are stronger, and they have the law on their side. They can end up controlling your body and your fortune. You must find someone you trust very deeply to feel safe in marrying him. In some ways trust is more important than love.”

Georgiana burst into tears.

Mr. Darcy’s faith that I could help his sister was utterly misplaced. Apparently, I have uttered exactly the wrong words.

Awkwardly, she pulled out her own handkerchief and offered it to the young woman. She grabbed it and industriously mopped up tears. “F-forgive me for being s-such a watering pot,” she said between sobs. “B-But…you understand! You…I have never been able to account for these sentiments to another woman. Everyone else simply says I only need to meet the right man.”

Oh, I did not cause her pain. In fact, she now realized, Georgiana’s breakdown greatly resembled Elizabeth’s when she spoke to Mr. Darcy by the stream. “Perhaps you will meet the right man, but I know many women who never marry and are quite happy. Although they have an appalling tendency to be poor. At least that does not need to concern you.”

Georgiana gave her a watery smile.

“It seems to me you need not make a decision about marriage at this moment. You are still quite young,” Elizabeth continued.

The girl’s face sobered. “No, I am not. I am to make my debut, and I will already be older than most of the girls.”

Oh. Now Elizabeth was getting a clearer picture of the dilemma. “You do not want to enter the marriage mart.” It was not a question.

“No!” Georgiana said it with such relief it was like air hissing from a tea kettle. “I do not want to come out, and I do not want to seek a husband.”