Darcy paced along the edge of the croquet lawn, squinting in the bright sunlight. “It is his property!”
“No doubt they tried to convince Collins to take these actions of his own accord,” Richard said.
“No doubt….” Darcy agreed. Elizabeth would not be so rebellious if there were another option.
“I can say, Will, there are times I wish Aunt Catherine’s tenants could farm the land without her interference,” Richard drawled with a grimace. “They would be the better for it. Rosings would be the better for it.”
Darcy did not bother denying that.
“But the law has given Mr. Collins ownership of everything,” Georgiana said, her brows drawing together. “Elizabeth has no legal recourse. Nor do the tenants. They are subject to the whims of an arbitrary and capricious landowner.”
“Can that possibly justify her actions? She is practically stealing from him.” Darcy found himself pacing again with long, agitated strides. The day had grown warmer and his shirt was damp under his jacket, yet he could not bring himself to stand still.
Georgiana tapped a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “I cannot say I find her actions wrong by default; we do not know the circumstances that drove her to take such desperate measures.”
Darcy was losing control of the conversation. “She is breaking the law!”
“You have often told me that sometimes laws are wrong,” Georgiana responded serenely. Instantly Darcy regretted every philosophical conversation with his sister.
“But I thought Elizabeth better than that,” he explained. “I thought she was a woman of principles and order—not someone who achieved her aims through manipulation and deceit.”
He saw a flash of something on Georgiana’s face. Anger? For the first time, his sister’s voice rose. “There is no other way for her to help Longbourn. She has no power, no authority, nobody she can appeal to for help. Do you believe she preferred manipulation and deceit?”
Darcy was a bit taken aback by Georgiana’s vociferousness. What had Elizabeth said to his sister? “No, of course not.”
“And you believe she tried to change her cousin’s mind first?”
“Yes, of course,” Darcy conceded.
“Therefore, this current plan is a last resort—the result of desperation.”
“But she does not have the right—”
Georgiana stood, nearly tipping her bench over. “And who decided that she did not have the right? Who decided that she could not inherit because she is female? This is not a system divinely ordained by God. He created us equal, male and female—with similar rights and responsibilities. And yet men own practically everything, and women own nothing.”
Darcy’s mouth dropped open. Where were these ideas coming from?
“And if a woman marries, the man owns her as well.”
Darcy started to object; of course, a husband did not “own” his wife, but then he reconsidered. Perhaps Georgiana was not completely wrong. Men were never faulted for beating their wives or committing adultery. Wives had a notoriously difficult time obtaining divorces even under circumstances of egregious abuse.
“And yet,” Georgiana continued, with a wide sweep of her arm, “women are expected to marry as if it is their natural state!”
Richard’s expression mirrored Darcy’s alarm. Perhaps they were no longer talking about Elizabeth.
When his eyes returned to Georgiana, she had hunched forward and wrapped her arms around herself. Her eyes sparkled suspiciously.
“Dearest, is something troubling you?” Darcy asked.
Georgiana wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I have been reading a book….No…” She straightened her back, regarding Darcy like a lion she needed to slay with her sword. “It began long before that…before I spoke with Elizabeth. She simply gave me the courage to admit it.”
His sister stopped speaking to take some deep breaths, and Darcy waited on tenterhooks, anxious what she might say next.
“I do not want to marry.” She raised her chin as if she expected immediate objections. When he said nothing, she continued. “Everyone says I must marry because all women my age marry, but…what if I choose not to? What if I do not want a debut or to search for a husband? I am so much more fortunate than most women. I need not marry. And, so, I believe I will not.”
For a moment Darcy had the sense that his world was askew. As if he viewed everything from a new and disconcerting vantage point. He had known of her reluctance to participate in a London Season but never imagined this was behind it. Georgiana would not marry? Ever? The idea had never occurred to him.
He could recognize the logic of her perspective. Indeed, there was no reason she must marry. Presumably, Darcy would marry and beget heirs. He would be quite pleased if his sister lived out the rest of her days at Pemberley.