Chapter Twelve #3
“It is a far cry from censuring silly girls to disregarding your father’s final wishes during a time of mourning,” Elizabeth said softly, staring intently into his eyes as if beseeching him to convince her he was the better man.
“Surely you could not wish to see a gentleman so eager to speak of books with you to be a villain,” he drawled.
“No, indeed,” Elizabeth laughed. The fury had fully vanished, even the confusion in her eyes began to dispel as she laughed so beautifully at him. He could no longer remember what he had just said, but he would say anything to elicit such reactions from her again and again.
But first he would speak in defense of his honor.
“When my excellent father died five years ago, I was shattered by the loss. My mother had passed the year before, and it was a difficult time for Georgiana and I. Richard and Bingley were often with us, and can attest to our despair. Wickham had just completed university with me, and I had seen for many years how he behaved at school—I will spare you the details of his vice and debauchery. I attempted to make these concerns known to my father, but he was very like Bingley, always disposed to think the whole world good and pleasing.”
Elizabeth gave him a wistful smile, as if she could understand why Bingley’s character had ever been a balm to his spirits. When she nodded encouragingly, Darcy continued.
“He bequeathed Wickham a sum of one thousand pounds, which was given to him after the will was read. By verbal agreement, Wickham was also to have the valuable living of Kympton. I was relieved when he declared he had no wish to take orders, for I knew his disposition was not suited to the duties of a parson; he would have neglected his sermons and parishioners, and might even have been a danger to every farmer and shopkeeper’s daughter.
He expressed a wish to study the law, and in lieu of the living I granted him an additional sum of three thousand pounds, with a hope that our acquaintance was finally severed.
He went through every last shilling within a year, and returned to Pemberley to demand the living. I declined.”
Elizabeth gasped, missing a step of the waltz and latching onto him as she recovered herself. “The nerve of him, to paint himself the victim! That is an inordinate sum to spend so quickly.”
“He is capable of far worse, Miss Elizabeth. My cousin will likely see him run out of the village, or even apprehended for the debts he has run up; but you would do well to warn your sisters. His vices are more dangerous for pretty, naive young women.”
She nodded, a shade of fear in her shining gaze. “Thank you—for your concern, and for… the truth.”
She believed him. Darcy had not realized how desperately he needed not only to preserve his honor, but to earn her good faith in him. “There is more to the story, which I would tell you, but privately. May I do so tomorrow when Georgiana and I call?”
“You need not say any more, if you do not wish it,” she replied. “I am not without my grievances, but I no longer hold Mr. Wickham’s sad story against you.”
“Elizabeth, I am sorry,” Darcy sighed. Her eyes flashed with shock, and Darcy belatedly realized his mistake. He cleared his throat. “Miss Elizabeth, my sister and I shall both make you and your sisters every possible amends, if you will permit it.”
Again she nodded. “Then I hope we shall all be friends.”
But Darcy wanted a great deal more than that, and lamented the loss of her in his arms as the dance came to an end.
They sat with Richard and Miss Bingley at supper, and the four of them spoke with animation; Darcy was relieved that Elizabeth allowed their quarrel to rest. It was almost euphoric that he had won her good opinion, that he had conquered the discord between them.
He caught himself, more than once, musing upon how they might resolve a dispute once they were married, and what harmony they might then enjoy—what a friend she might think him then.
Even beholding the magic she had worked on Miss Bingley filled Darcy with elation, for he had ever lamented that Bingley’s company came at the heavy price of his sister’s inclusion.
It was then that Darcy realized Miss Bingley did not seek to prove she had reformed, in order to earn his regard.
No, she had heeded the words he had spoken on the night of the assembly, and understood that she ought to be a friend to the future Mrs. Darcy.
She had known before Darcy had that Elizabeth was the woman best suited to such a role.
Everything seemed to shimmer in the candlelit room as they dined and drank wine, and Darcy had never known such true merriment.
He felt that everything was unfolding just as it ought to, for himself and Bingley and even Richard, and it was all he could do not to carry Elizabeth off that very night.
He had wished to be sure of her, and he felt that he very nearly was.
He wanted only for Georgiana to make amends, and to tell Elizabeth the full truth; if she could take it all with such perfect grace, he would surely be on his knees.