“Marriage is a big step,” Darcy said, trying to buy time. His thoughts were racing. “Once entered into, it cannot be undone.”
“I know that, brother,” Georgiana said gently. “And I knew that you would object to Mr. Pettigrew, but please hear me out.
“Would you rather I married a fortune hunter? A gentleman who is attracted not to me, but to the wealth that I possess?”
At the mention of fortune hunter, Darcy’s thoughts went straight to Wickham. No. He did not want that for Georgiana at all.
“Don’t you see?” Georgiana continued. “Mr. Pettigrew does not care about my fortune at all. Neither does he care about our family name. You had a chance to observe him. You know he cares nothing for family connection, or rank.”
“Perhaps he does not care enough?” said Darcy. But he had to admit that Georgiana, in this regard, was correct. Pettigrew was no social climber, his friendship with Lord Northover notwithstanding. And he was wealthy in his own right, wealthier even than Darcy.
“He cares for me,” said Georgiana. “He has told me he loves me, and I know that I love him. Is that not the most important thing for a successful marriage?”
“There is more to life than that. Our feelings may change with the seasons . . .” Saying this, Darcy realized that he sounded very like Lady Catherine when she had urged him to marry Anne, and not pollute, as she put it, the shades of Pemberley with the likes of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Perhaps Georgiana was right, and he and his aunt were wrong.
“I know your feelings for Miss Bennet are not trifling, or changeable,” said Georgiana sincerely. “They are not as changeable as the seasons.
“It is the same for Mr. Pettigrew and me. I love him, brother, and I always will.”
Looking at his sister, Darcy realized that she was telling the truth. She did love Pettigrew. And his own observations of the man made him believe with some certainty that he returned her love. He did not doubt but that Pettigrew wished to marry Georgiana because he loved her, rather than for social elevation, or to make any claim upon her fortune.
“And there is another consideration, and please forgive me for saying this for I know it is not my place,” said Georgiana earnestly. “I know you’ve been concerned about my settlement, and how it will deplete our estate and place Pemberley in a similar position to Hardwick Park, where money has left through marriage but has not been brought back in.”
Darcy rose up in his chair and was about to protest, but Georgiana raised her hand to stop him.
“You think that I’m innocent about this, but I’m not, for I know that you have been trying to raise the fortunes of Pemberley through business so that you may marry who you choose, rather than for money.
“Do you not see, brother? If I marry Mr. Pettigrew, I need no settlement from our estate. He is richer even than you know, and has told me that he will settle monies equal to or greater than I would’ve received from Pemberley should you let us marry.”
“He wishes to purchase you? He thinks that you are for sale?”
“No, brother, he does not wish to purchase me, only to see that I am provided for without you having to worry about that.”
Darcy stood abruptly. He strode to the fireplace, and grasped the mantle, looking down into the flames of the fire without seeing them, or feeling their heat.
His outrage at Pettigrew’s insolence in seeking to purchase Georgiana’s hand began to fade. In his heart, he knew that this had not been the man’s purpose. The proposal may have seemed crass, or commercial, but it was proffered out of love and intended kindly. He began to see how Pettigrew was placing Georgiana’s interests over his own, and to his own financial detriment, which could only be done out of love and had nothing of guile or greed to it.
Darcy turned slowly to face Georgiana, and was at once moved by her expression, which was so filled with expectation and hope that it touched his heart.
“Tell Mr. Pettigrew to see me,” Darcy said. “I will give my permission, and my blessing.”
Georgiana leaped from her chair and ran to her brother, embracing him such that the pair nearly spun around.
“You have made me so happy!” Georgiana said, and Darcy saw that her blue eyes shone with tears. “You have given me the best birthday present I could ever hope to receive!”
Darcy held her, and looking into her eyes, he knew that it was so.
Pettigrew was to her as Elizabeth Bennet was to him.
If only he had the same chance at happiness as Georgiana!
Chapter 17, The Red Drawing Room
January 3, 1813
“Miss Elizabeth, Miss Elizabeth wake up.”