Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Aunt Gardiner had several friends at Mrs. Humphrey’s ball and joined their welcoming circle almost immediately.
This was a small event that Miss Bingley would never dream of attending, even had the hostess thought it right to invite her, but Elizabeth saw a few acquaintances approach her.
She exchanged pleasantries with them until she was invited to dance.
She had hoped Mr. Wickham would ask her for the first set, but she had not yet seen him.
Elizabeth danced two sets with tradesmen she had met the year before and was sipping her lemonade and breathing in its tartness when she heard a welcome sound and turned, surprised Mr. Wickham was so close. His voice was nearly a whisper.
“Please tell me your next set is free. Watching you dance with Mr. Smith for the past quarter hour was insupportable. I need to be your next partner, Miss Bennet.”
She blushed at the look in his eyes and nodded, unable to form a thought.
Mr. Wickham was a fine dancer, and she could not restrain her smile throughout their set.
When the music slowed, she remembered she had two disagreeable tasks before her, to return the diamond comb and to tell him of Papa Oliver.
She would return the comb first, as it weighed on her far more.
She was worried she might lose it before she had a chance to return it.
Miss Bennet would make a charming wife. Wickham would be well-pleased to gaze at her sparkling eyes and delightful form every day.
Or as often as he chose, at any rate. He would not neglect Minny, and he would often have the company of other women, but Miss Bennet was na?ve enough to be unaware of his habits.
He was getting closer to an acceptance of her hand, but something confused him.
“Why do you not wear my gift this evening, Eliza?” he asked as he escorted her to a dim space between candles. Easy to find, as this ball was not well-lit. Expense had clearly been spared on that front.
“Oh!” She swallowed, and he wondered why she appeared agitated.
Perhaps she was not ready for him to use her Christian name, but he was in a hurry to access her funds.
She pulled the comb from the reticule hanging from her wrist and placed it in his gloved hand.
He took the opportunity to hold her hand in his own, the comb between them.
Of course, her relations had not let her wear the comb, so she had waited until reaching the ball. He softened his eyes in understanding.
“I thank you, but upon reflection, I have determined that I still feel as I did when first you gave it to me. It is very fine, but I cannot possibly accept it.”
His anger flared, but he hid it well. He lifted their joined hands and placed a lingering kiss on the back of her glove.
When he saw the look in her eyes, he nearly proposed right then.
Instead, he slowly slid his hand from hers, taking the comb with it.
Though he considered returning it to Minny, as it would not do to lose such an expensive piece, he was close to obtaining Miss Bennet’s acceptance.
He was sure of it. Gently, he placed the comb in her hair once more, his fingers brushing her cheek as he made his case.
“We have already discussed this, my pet. You are giving me the gift by allowing me to see the diamonds when I look at you. You must not return it again, not unless you are determined to shatter my heart.”
Wickham looked past Miss Bennet as he stroked down her jaw, and he stepped back, startled. What was Darcy doing here? And why did he look murderous as he approached?
“I must go to Bath for a few days,” he said hastily, “but you are to keep these diamonds safe for me while I am away, my pet.”
Before she acknowledged his words, he had retreated into the crowd and stood behind a large leafy plant to ensure Darcy did not see him.
The man stopped walking and looked about; he had lost him.
But then he continued on the same path, toward Miss Bennet.
Would he attempt to steal this wealthy heiress from him?
No, of course not. Darcy would never lower himself to think of a girl with an uncle in trade.
He would marry not only an heiress but one with impeccable bloodlines and perfect connections.
Wickham withdrew from the ball. He would give Miss Bennet time to fall more deeply for him in his absence.
Meanwhile, he would remove himself from Darcy’s notice.
Meeting his former friend was always bothersome but even more so since that business with the Kympton living.
He suspected Darcy owned a large portion of his debts now, so it would not be useful to upset the man.
Instead, he would dote on Minny for a week or two.
After consulting with Bingley, Darcy had suspected he would see Wickham and Elizabeth together at this ball, which was why he had gone to such great lengths to obtain an invitation.
He had not expected to see such an intimate exchange, however.
Witnessing them dance had been bad enough, and Darcy had been relieved both dances in their set had kept them separate for most of the half hour.
What came after, though, had him truly concerned for Elizabeth.
Was he too late? Had she already given him her heart?
Whether she had or not, he owed it to her to reveal Wickham’s perfidy.
He was almost in front of her, but she still gazed off to his left, in the direction Wickham had disappeared to moments after locking gazes with him.
Darcy was now close enough to see diamonds glinting in the dim candlelight.
This is what Wickham had placed in her hair?
Why he had touched her skin? And she had allowed it!
How much had his sweet Elizabeth changed since he had thrown away her friendship, and could she ever be that girl again for him? Judging from the look on her still-unseeing face, she was troubled, as well. He could only wonder whether she shared any of his own reasons for concern.
“Miss Elizabeth, how do you do?” He tried to be gentle, knowing their recent encounters had been anything but affable.
“Mr. Darcy. This is a surprise. When last you approached me at a ball, I was out of my sphere, and tonight you are out of yours. What brings you to such a common entertainment?”
She did not sound angry, but was this more of Elizabeth’s bitterness against him, or did she think so little of herself? Perhaps she had come to face the reality of her position, as he had been forced to do. That would explain why he had not seen her anywhere last summer.
“I came in search of you.”
Her look of disbelief was not unexpected.
“I would ask you to honor me with a set, but I should not wish to force you to choose between an uncomfortable half hour with me or sitting out the remainder of the evening. Would you instead be so kind as to allow me to speak with you for a few minutes? We could move into a better-lit part of the room, perhaps in view of your chaperone.”
He had meant to assure her of his good intentions, but she appeared to take offense or was perhaps embarrassed to suspect he had seen her with Wickham. Her face reddened, and her fists clenched. Would she allow him to tell her what he must?
“And why should I spend another moment in your company, sir?”
“Because I have information of a most pressing nature to share with you. It is of vital importance.”
Elizabeth’s stony countenance wavered. “Is it Jane?” Her voice faltered.
“No, no. Forgive me. I know of no physical danger to…that is, my information is of…perhaps…material importance to you.”
“You speak in riddles, Mr. Darcy. Speak here or direct me closer to my aunt, but please be quick about it.”
“Mrs. Gardiner is here?”
“She is.” Elizabeth made a vague gesture across the room to his right.
“I would appreciate seeing her again.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in disbelief. Then she began to tap her foot, and he offered his arm, which she refused, and directed her several steps to his right, to a better-lit section of the room.
“How long have you known Mr. Wickham?” He clenched his teeth but thought he had got the first part out without showing how much he disliked the man.
“Long enough to know you ruined his prospects.”
“Ruined his prospects? Then how was he able to gift you such a fine piece of jewelry?”
Her eyes widened. Perhaps he should not have started with that, but it had angered him to see his trinket, obtained from who knew where, in her hair, to know he had touched her. The scoundrel should not have been allowed in the same room as the woman he loved.
“Elizabeth—”
“Miss Elizabeth, if you please.”
“Forgive me. I must inform you of the character of that man—”
“No, I do not think you must do anything of the kind. Why should I trust you, a man who changes with the wind? Mr. Wickham has been nothing but kind to me, which is far more than I can say for you. You have always shown yourself to be inconsistent and untrustworthy…”
Darcy knew he had a long way to go to regain her good opinion, but he had not prepared himself as well as he should have. Untrustworthy?
“…Though his estate is far smaller than yours, he is more of a gentleman than you are.”
“His estate? Wickham has no estate and is not a gentleman. The man is full of lies and—”
“Perhaps you no longer know him. He did say it has been a few years. You refused him the church living your father promised, but fortunately, his uncle left him an estate in Cheshire where he is breeding horses.”
Breeding horses. That was rich. Wickham had always been interested in breeding, but horses had never ranked high on his list of concerns.
“Miss Elizabeth, Wickham wrote to me last year, but—”
“But you refused to help him again?”
Darcy took a deep breath to steady himself.
How could Darcy explain even a portion of his history with Wickham if she refused to accept the man could have lied?
Wickham had refused the Kympton living initially and taken money instead; then, his funds gone, he had written to him again only a few months ago asking for the living after all.
Perhaps if he tried another avenue with Elizabeth, he could still help her.
“I apologize for the words I said that day in Hurst’s drawing room. You can have no idea how sorry I have been. I have tried to apologize before, but—”
“Why?”
“Because I was very wrong to speak so.”
“No. Why did you say the words?”
Because I was furious at myself for having fallen in love with you! Of course, he could not say that.
“I…I cannot tell you tonight. Tonight you must understand that Wickham—”
“You are in no position to tell me what I must understand or do. You have not been a part of my life for years. Excuse me.”
She was going to leave!
“Miss Elizabeth, please. Mr. Wickham is not a man to be trusted. Please allow me to explain.”
“You will not explain your own actions, so why should I allow you to explain someone else’s? Good evening.”
She stepped around him and quickly moved toward a group of matrons.
He continued to watch her, wondering what else he could say to get her to listen.
He had thought of nothing more he could do that night before she and her aunt left the ball.
Perhaps he would write her a letter. No, that would not do.
How could he deliver it to her? He would have to trust in Bingley’s ability to get through to her. She no longer had any faith in Darcy.