Chapter Fifteen #2
Darcy tried to ignore her and keep moving, but my feet had stopped and, short of dragging me along behind him, he had no choice but to stop, too.
I twisted my spare arm to take Kitty’s hand, squeezing tight.
We desperately needed to talk. She had to know what Wickham had threatened, even if he had no proof beyond a dance countless other people had witnessed and that was not, in and of itself, worthy of scandal.
First, I needed to get as far away from the assembly hall as possible.
“Wickham,” I explained quickly.
It was enough. The fire in Kitty’s eyes burned bright enough to rival Darcy’s, and her grip on my fingers was almost painful.
“I’ll kill him,” she mumbled, so full of rage it tightened her jaw.
Despite everything that had happened, I couldn’t help but smile fondly at her protective instinct. Between her, Darcy, and Elizabeth, I felt almost safe, even knowing Wickham was probably still close.
“I’m fine,” I assured her, just to quell her bloodlust. “But I’m leaving.”
“Then so am I,” she declared.
I couldn’t quite interpret the look Darcy gave us, but he said nothing as, with me sandwiched between him and Kitty, we finally left the ball.
Once we were outside and Darcy had called for the carriage, he, in a way entirely devoid of subtlety, tried to look around for Wickham. A few revellers were getting some air, but there was no red coat amongst them.
“Take Georgiana home,” Darcy instructed Elizabeth. “I believe I have a disagreement to settle with Wickham. I should have done it long ago.”
His implication was clear: He meant to challenge Wickham to a duel.
From the way Kitty still clutched my arm, he already had an enthusiastic second, but I wasn’t willing to let anyone fight on my behalf.
Duels were fought with lethal weapons, and with that came lethal consequences.
Everyone had heard tales of women left widowed and children left fatherless.
I was already an orphan; I would not risk losing my brother.
Before I could voice my distress, someone else was voicing theirs.
“No,” Elizabeth said, her voice firm and unyielding. I’d never seen anyone order my brother around like that. “That is not what she needs.”
“No duels,” I managed. “He’s a soldier. He’ll kill you.”
Darcy laughed darkly. “He’s a terrible soldier. I’d kill him.”
“And you do not want that blood on your hands, no matter how awful a person he is,” Elizabeth reasoned, gripping my brother’s arm tightly and steering him away towards the carriage. “He is not worth it.”
In any other situation, it would be amusing to see my brother marched around in such a way, but given the evening’s events, I opted to focus on the relief that Darcy seemed to have surrendered his desire to fight at the will of his wife.
Kitty tugged me after Elizabeth and Darcy, not letting go until she had given me her hand to help me up into the carriage.
“Would you permit me to challenge him to a duel?” she whispered in my ear as she settled next to me on the bench.
I poked her in the ribs. “Absolutely not,” I hissed.
She was likely speaking in jest, but I wasn’t willing to take the risk that she’d be mad enough to try and someone would be mad enough to let her.
Darcy might have had confidence in his abilities with a gun, but I knew Kitty had never fired one, let alone had any idea how to accurately aim.
She would be sure to lose, and I refused to lose her.
I rested my head on her shoulder, too wrung out to care about the audience sitting facing us.
Elizabeth had only a fond smile for me, but Darcy’s features had settled into a frown.
Whether because of Wickham or because of how close I was cuddling up to Kitty, I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t be persuaded to move.
I was in no mood to give up the comfort her proximity brought me.
Kitty didn’t seem keen to deny me it, either, laying her head against mine.
A blonde curl tickled the side of my nose.
I stripped off my gloves and stuffed them into my reticule, pleased when Kitty did the same without me having to say a word.
She slipped her hand into mine, the familiar gesture reassuring.
What Darcy might have to say seemed insignificant in comparison with the motion of Kitty tracing gentle circles over my bruised knuckles.
“What did he say to you?” Darcy asked, fury lingering beneath his words. “You cannot go anywhere with him, you—”
“I know!” I protested. I hated that the lie I’d told made me look so foolish in his eyes. “I wouldn’t.”
“You have done so once before,” he pushed. “I need your word that you have no intention of meeting him, of contacting him in any way, of—”
“Darcy,” Elizabeth interrupted him sharply. “Stop.”
“She is my responsibility, Elizabeth. My younger sister,” he argued. “I am in charge of keeping her safe.”
I hated that he was talking about me like I wasn’t there. I hated that he thought me so easily tricked and misguided. I hated that I was lying to him by omission, never telling him about Kitty, or about Helena. So I finally told him a kernel of the truth.
“I know he never loved me!” I interrupted the arguing. “I knew exactly what he wanted. He was only ever after my dowry, and I knew that.”
Both Elizabeth and Darcy turned to me, confused.
“What haven’t you told me?” my brother asked, his eyes narrowed.
There was no sense in telling another lie.
I was going to tie myself entirely up in knots if I tried to lay out yet another version of events, one which had to be closer to the truth yet not veer too close to candour.
Now that he was watching closely for falsehoods, Darcy would be able to see them.
No matter where it left me once told, I had little option but to lay out the true events.
I let go of Kitty, shifting along the bench to put some distance between us. I was ready to tell the truth about myself, but I didn’t know for sure if she would be happy to be included in that story. That was up to her. My own lies, however, were finally ready to be unravelled.