CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
After more than sufficient time had passed for Miss Elizabeth to have read his letter, Darcy called at the Parsonage to find Miss Elizabeth had not returned.
It was not necessary that he should know her reaction to what he had written.
There was the possibility she would disregard its truth, her antipathy toward the author being too great, and maintain the innocence of Wickham.
Thus, Darcy took his leave after only a few minutes.
He had never before divulged the full extent of Wickham’s offenses to anyone but could not suffer the misapprehension that put him at such a disadvantage to the other.
Her good opinion mattered more than he expected.
If he could right, even a little, the tilt of her estimation, his efforts would not have been worthless.
His cousin stayed at the Parsonage for an hour but returned without having seen Miss Elizabeth.
They prepared to depart the following morning and spent the whole of the evening with Anne and Catherine, who was determined to make the most of their last hours together by planning every detail of their next visit to Rosings.
“Of course, the autumn season brings with it the opportunity for the sport outdoors you men are partial to, but the weather is best in summer for travelling,” Catherine said as they sat in the drawing-room after supper. “Do you not agree summer should be preferable to fall?”
The appearance of the groom delayed any answer, to her ladyship’s displeasure, and she looked upon the offending letter he carried with a pointed frown.
Darcy took the letter presented to him. His heart stalled at the possibility the letter came from Miss Elizabeth. But the handwriting of the address he recognized to belong to Abby.
Catherine did not scruple to ask, “And who, I wonder, sends a correspondence at this hour?”
Without word, Darcy slipped the letter into his coat. No doubt it was a response to the letter he had left her regarding her stepson.
“Well, Darcy?” Catherine prodded when she realized she was not to receive an answer. “Do you intend to keep us in suspense? The contents must be of an urgent nature for it to be delivered at such a time.”
Darcy frowned. It was unfortunate the letter had been delivered in her company, but his aunt had a point.
“If you will pardon me,” he said, rising.
Catherine raised her brows and offered, “We will not take offense if you were to open it in our presence.”
“Even were I not to require privacy, madam, I will not make any assumption on the desires of the author.”
“Go and read it, Darcy,” Colonel Fitzwilliam urged, “for, as our aunt has said, it may be of an urgent nature.”
Darcy took his leave and ensconced himself in the privacy of the library. The note was brief and only asked if he might call upon her at Trenwith House. He returned the letter to his coat and dutifully went back to the drawing-room.
“Well?” Catherine inquired.
“The letter contained no pressing matter,” he answered.
“Then who in Hunsford should have desired your attention?”
Both his cousins shifted in their seats at her intrusiveness, which must certainly lead only to displeasure if answered honestly.
“I should like a word with this person on the appropriateness of sending a letter at this late hour and rousing us all to worry,” Catherine continued.
“I doubt that to have been her intention,” Darcy replied.
“Her?”
“Mrs. Trenwith.”
Having relented, he took his seat next to the Colonel. He doubted his aunt would pursue the matter further with Anne present.
“That woman knows no decency. I hope you will not deign to answer.”
“That would make me the greater offender.”
“You need not worry where she is concerned. As she does not appreciate the niceties of polite society, she should not expect to merit them in return.”
Darcy flushed. “I have never had occasion to think ill of her.”
His aunt turned many colours before settling on a hue that did no favours for her complexion.
Colonel Fitzwilliam attempted to dispel the tension. “It is rather amazing that I have never encountered Mrs. Trenwith in all my time at Rosings.”
The party fell into silence.
“Anne!” he cried. “I heard you attempt the ‘Goldberg Variations’ by Bach earlier to-day. Will you not play a little?”
Anne obliged and the subject of the letter was attended to no more for the remainder of the evening. After everyone had retired to their chambers, Darcy penned a response to Abby, sending his regrets that he would be unable to meet with her before his departure.