Chapter 2 #2
Elizabeth turned and looked at him. To another observer, he might have appeared calm, but she already knew him better than that.
Seeing the tightness of his jaw and stiffness in his posture taught her of his dismay, and although she did not understand it, instinct propelled her forwards.
She crossed the few steps between them in a trice, rising on her toes to take his face in her hands and kiss him firmly on the lips.
He wrapped his arms around her, and she could feel his tension ebbing away as they continued in their embrace. “I am sorry,” she murmured when she could. “I had no idea—”
“Shhh,” he said against her lips. “You did nothing wrong. You have no cause to apologise.”
“But you were upset, and for that, I am infinitely regretful.”
“Mr Wickham and I have a complicated and contentious history.” Untangling himself from her, he took her hand and led her to a settee.
“I cannot recall what I told you of my history with him, but we have known each other nearly our entire lives. Mr Wickham is the son of my father’s former steward at Pemberley.
He was my dearest boyhood companion. His father died when he was about thirteen, and my father cared for him until he came of age, even sent him to school with me.
“While we were at school, we began to grow apart. Rather than taking advantage of the opportunities afforded him, George rarely studied and instead spent his time gambling and drinking, engaging in dalliances with servant girls, and visiting brothels—things of that sort.”
Elizabeth frowned.
“I disapproved of his behaviour and did not scruple in telling him so. We began to either argue or avoid one another, and many times, my affinity to him compelled me to pay his debts or otherwise cover for his actions. This naturally led to more dissension, and before I knew it, we were estranged.
“When my father died—”
“Five years ago?”
“Yes,” Darcy affirmed. “My father left him a thousand pounds and the promise of a valuable family living at Kympton when it fell vacant, as he hoped Wickham would take orders. Wickham was sorely grieved with his inheritance; evidently, he had expected more.”
“Indeed?”
“He wished to live as a gentleman. To that end, he requested that I grant him, instead of the living, a sum of three thousand pounds, which I did.
“Thus, Wickham was paid and, I thought, no longer my concern.” Darcy sighed and looked away.
“He came to me last spring when the old rector at Kympton died. He had decided he wished for the position after all—or at least the financial assurance that came with it. I denied him, and he became very angry with me, vowing that one day the tables should be turned, and it would be I who should depend upon his mercy.”
“How foolish. Your father—and you—owed him nothing yet gave him a great deal. He should appreciate that which was given, not despise you for failing to give more.”
“I agree, but such a man cannot be made to see reason. He has already made some attempt on a lady…a lady I once admired.”
“Oh, really?” Elizabeth maintained a light tone. “Pray, tell me, Mr Darcy.”
With great interest, she watched her serious suitor blush scarlet then look away and clear his throat uncomfortably.
“Elizabeth, I…forgive me, I do not wish to bring you discomfort in any way. Let me assure you in the most violent of terms that the lady I shall tell you about is…she was a suitable match, that is all.”
Suppressing a grin, she asked gently, “And you liked her?”
Darcy studied the carpet between his feet with great determination.
“She…there was some slight connexion to my aunt, Lady Matlock’s family.
Miss Harper is a pretty girl, very kind-hearted, and we enjoyed one another’s society.
She came out a bit late, already one and twenty, due to an elder sister who proved resistant to marriage, but I liked that she was older and more serious, or so I believed. ”
Elizabeth watched Darcy struggle with what to say of the matter. “Did you offer for her?”
He shook his head. “It had not gone so far, but my attentions were…no one could have doubted my intentions, not her, not her family. I was invited to family supper twice. It all seemed as near to settled as it could be without my part in it.”
He ceased speaking then, looking unhappy, and Elizabeth laid a hand on his arm. “I see that this pains you. I am sure I can guess the rest, should you wish to—”
“No, I am not pained. I did not love her—it is nothing at all to the violence of my affection for you. I might have married her, we would have been content enough…but to think I might have missed out on you…” He gave a slight shudder.
“I cannot imagine it. No, my darling girl, I was angry at the time, but upon reflection, I must say Wickham did me a great favour.”
“It was Wickham?”
“He seduced her,” Darcy said with shocking bluntness. “Ruined her.”
Elizabeth inhaled sharply. “You mean they—”
“He took her as his wife.” Darcy shook his head.
“She believed herself in love in a way she knew she did not love me. As I said, we were merely two people who recognised we might do well for one another. For Wickham, she evidently felt…well, the way I feel for you. And of course she thought he felt likewise. Little did she know he wanted nothing more than a bite of her fortune and revenge on me.”
“She is wealthy, then?”
Darcy nodded. “Indeed. I daresay that the sum her father gave Wickham to keep silent on the matter did little to diminish it. Perhaps they withheld the money until she marries. In any case, she is off in the country now, and he is here, pretending at being a soldier. But it is you I worry for. He saw, plainly, my feelings for you, and I do not doubt—”
“You forget, sir,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “I am too poor to tempt a blackguard like that.”
The light in Darcy’s eyes changed, softened. He leant in, placing a tender kiss on her neck. “But you are so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin, “you make a man not care.”
Elizabeth smiled as Darcy pushed her back against the arm of the settee, his kisses growing more fervid. “What if someone comes in?” she whispered.
“Then you will have to marry me.”
“You told Mr Wickham we were engaged,” she said shyly.
He stopped kissing her then, raising his head to gaze at her with eyes that burnt with his want of her. She thrilled at it even as it frightened her a little. “Forgive me,” he said huskily. “I spoke from my heart’s desire rather than my reason.”
Her heart, already thrumming, began to pound almost painfully. Could he hear it too? “It is my heart’s desire as well.”
“Do you mean that?”
Unable to speak, she could only nod, inducing a low chuckle from him. “Come now, Miss Bennet. I know how much you love to talk. Can you not give your suitor the words he hungers for?”
She giggled a little, then said seriously, “I have fallen in love with you, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and I would be most honoured to become your wife.”
With a sigh that became a moan, he began again to kiss her neck. “Thank God for answered prayers.”
Outside of the small sitting room on the second floor, Caroline Bingley’s eyes filled with enraged tears. She shoved a fist against her mouth to keep from screaming. This…this could not be borne. How dare this low-born chit steal the most eligible bachelor of the ton!
What she could do about it, she knew not, but something must be done. Eliza Bennet would pay for her transgression.