The subsequent days passed without incident. Georgiana prepared for the assembly under Mrs. Younge’s watchful supervision. She took a keen interest in her ward’s hair and dress for the event. The evening of the town’s gathering, Georgiana sat in a pale blue gown in front of her dressing room table. A maid was pinning her hair up. Mrs. Younge stood nearby to oversee the affair.

“I don’t understand why we must go through this much effort. I can’t even dance yet since I’m not officially out.”

Her companion sighed and rubbed her brow. Everything I say frustrates her. I am missing being at Pemberley, where I had more freedom. There, I could at least escape in the huge house for a time. Mrs. Younge could not keep up with me if I were to run and hide among the many rooms. 

“Miss Darcy. As an earl’s niece and a gentleman’s daughter, you have certain obligations you must meet due to your position in society. One duty is to mingle with the community. Think of how the gentry would feel knowing the Miss Darcy is living among them and can’t burden herself from participating in their festivities?”

Georgiana frowned and closed her eyes. Tears gathered at the edges of her lashes, caused by shame. Fitzwilliam trusted me to behave and act like a lady of my station. Here I am, pouting like a child because I don’t want to go to a party. It’s time I act like a mature gentlewoman.

Resolved in her decision, she allowed the maid to tug and pull her blond hair up, a deviation from the braids she usually wore. Two curls, one on each side of her face were primped. Once this was done, Mrs. Younge handed her a cream colored shawl and gloves before she whisked Georgiana off to the assembly. 

The two women entered a large hall where crowds danced, drank, and conversed.      

Her companion located Mrs. Sampson, the wife of Reverend Sampson, who preached at the local church. Mrs. Sampson was an older woman, somewhere in her fifties, with a short, stout appearance. She happily welcomed them upon sight.

“Miss Darcy! Mrs. Younge! It’s wonderful to see both of you here at our modest gathering. I was so pleased to hear you two would be attending.”

“How do you do this evening, Mrs. Sampson? We are honored that you invited us. As newcomers, we have not yet had many opportunities to speak to our neighbors.” 

“I understand! It can be difficult when you first arrive, but as a port city, we are used to new residents coming and going. Come, come. I’ll introduce you to the Master of Ceremonies, and he can acquaint you to some nice young people. I am sure you are anxious to make friends, Miss Darcy.” She hooked her arms around their elbows and pulled them further into the room. 

“That would be lovely, Mrs. Sampson.” Georgiana let herself be dragged through the crowds until they stopped before a tall, wispy man. He was in his later thirties, a decade older than her cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. His brown hair and blue eyes gave him a rather plain appearance, but his smile cemented her esteem for him upon their arrival.  

“Good evening, ladies. Mrs. Sampson, are these the guests you told me about?”

“Yes, Mr. Erwick. This is Miss Darcy and her companion, Mrs. Younge.” They curtsied, and he bowed.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Can I introduce you to other visitors? I find most people are comfortable speaking to other newcomers at their first assembly.”

I would rather not. She preferred to sit off to the side in a comfortable chair with tea and cake. Preferably, in a location with the best view to observe the guests, hidden and away from prying eyes.

An elbow from Mrs. Younge spurred Georgiana to speak. 

“Y-Yes. That is most agreeable of you. I…”

“Where are the card tables? I have a hefty purse that needs emptying!” Slurred a man. 

Their group of four turned at the loud ruckus, and many other patrons stopped their conversations to hear the commotion better. Her heart sped up upon recognition of that voice. 

“Who is that? Excuse me, ladies.” Mr. Erwick strode past them to the entrance of an adjoining room. 

Georgiana glanced at Mrs. Younge before she pulled away to follow him. She could hear Mrs. Younge take their leave for Mrs. Sampson, but didn’t stop until she reached the doorway. This area held several card tables where gentlemen and women sat and played games. Mr. Erwick and Mr. Wickham stood to the side. It was just as she feared. 

Mr. Wickham was dressed much better than when they last met. His coat was a dark brown with matching breeches. Tears blurred her vision at the sight of the blue cravat she had gifted him, wrapped around his neck. Why do this tonight, George? An entertaining evening turned into an embarrassing disaster! I wanted you as an ally for me to depend on during this arduous ordeal and you’ve made it worse. 

“Who the hell are you to tell me to sod off? I am a guest just like everyone else.” Wickham gestured as he flung his arm aside and knocked into another gentleman. 

Mr. Erwick’s face had gone purple, and before Wickham could react, he grabbed him by the collar. Surprised, Wickham let the Master of Ceremonies haul him out of the card room and into the foyer. 

“I’ll have you tossed out on your rear, you drunkard.” Mr. Erwick and Wickam were at the entrance when Georgiana caught up to them.

“Mr. Erwick! Please stop!” She reached out to place her hand on his elbow and drew back as soon as she touched him. 

“Miss Darcy, I must insist on removing this…this bounder. Whoever invited him made a grave mistake, and I am correcting it.”

Georgiana stood in front of the door to block it. “I-I asked Mr. Wickham to come to the assembly. He is an old family friend of the Darcys and has graciously escorted me during my visit.”

The two men stopped their struggle to gape at her. Mr. Erwick recovered first. 

“Miss Darcy, I understand you are not yet out, so this incident can be overlooked due to your age and inexperience. As for Mr. Wickham, I won’t call for the constable if he vacates the premises without further embarrassment.” 

The offer was tempting, but Georgiana could not bear to see Mr. Wickham thrown out of the establishment like common riff-raff. He is…what is he? A friend, of course. Confusion pushed aside momentarily, Georgiana straightened her back and put forth her best imitation of Aunt Catherine’s hauteur. Then she approached Mr. Wickham and held out her arm. 

“I am sure that won’t be necessary, Mr. Erwick. I’ll escort Mr. Wickham to a private sitting room where he may recuperate. He was ill these past three days, and the medicine prescribed by the apothecary had these unusual side effects. Do beg his pardon to the other guests.”

Wickham and she swiftly escape, almost reaching the exit when Mr. Erwick called out.

“Miss Darcy. I must insist that you not go anywhere without a chaperone. This really is not proper…”

“Do not worry about propriety, sir.” Mrs. Younge guided the pair out of the room as if she had appeared out of thin air. “I shall watch over my charge, as that is my duty as her companion, after all.”

Once beyond the curtains that covered the doorway, all three individuals deflated. 

“Wick…Mr. Wickham. What in heaven’s name are you doing?” Mrs. Younge sniffed his breath and wrinkled her nose. 

“I simply had a little nip before arriving. Soothes the nerves, you know?” He crashed into a chair and sprawled out. His clothes became more disheveled from the action.

While the two bickered with one another, Georgiana wandered over to a refreshment table. It only held beverages and a tray of cucumber sandwiches, but that was to be expected from a less frequented room. What can I do? I am not Fitzwilliam and I do not have the privilege of a man to leave early. Fake an illness? No, I already used that excuse for Mr. Wickham. Maybe the night isn’t ruined if I can get him to make a brief appearance. Enough for him to redeem himself in front of Ramsgate society.  She poured water into a teacup and let the drink cool her hands. When the pair quieted, she returned to them and offered the beverage to Mr. Wickham.

“Have some refreshment, Mr. Wickham. It may help clear your head.”

He accepted the cup from her but didn’t sip from it. “My thanks, Miss Darcy.”

“I-I know how Mr. Erwick treated you was awful, but y-you must look past it and return to the party. I understand should you wish not to, but for my sake, my reputation…” She had already vouched for him and if he failed to make a presentable impression, Ramsgate society would see she was never invited to another event in the city. 

Georgiana stared at her hands. Mrs. Younge eyed Wickham. And Wickham gazed at the cup, entranced by the flower design. With a flick of his wrist, he tipped the China back and gulped down the liquid. The glass clattered on the saucer and startled Georgiana, who looked up at the noise. He strode over to the mirror beside her position and groomed himself. His brown curls were tamed instead of tasseled and the shadows under his eyes were lessened by a wet rag he had pressed against them. He proffered his arm to her with a final wipe of his handkerchief. 

“Well, we cannot let a Darcy become a laughingstock in society. Regardless of how confined they are.” 

Relief and wonder swept through Georgiana. Thank you, George.  

Editor: Lucy Cafiero