“I am well, Colonel Thompson, thank you. I hope you do not think me impertinent to steal Colonel Fitzwilliam from you? And your mother?” The colonel looked at her curiously and excused himself to find his mother. “Thank you, Colonel. I will await you by the door to the hallway. Colonel Thompson, it was very nice making your acquaintance.”
“And I you, Miss Bennet. And if you have a dance available, might I claim it?”
“You may, sir.”
She curtsied and walked briskly to the door, waiting for the colonel and Lady Matlock. When she saw him across the room stop to speak with his mother, she became restless.
Finally, Elizabeth apprised her hosts of what she had overheard earlier and they briskly walked toward the library. The colonel held up his hand as they approached the door. “Mother. Miss Elizabeth. Allow me to determine if there is a need for your presence.” The colonel stepped forward and pressed his ear to the partially opened door. Lady Matlock hissed. “Richard! This is my house. This is my nephew. Get in there and get that scheming woman away from him.”
* * *
“Miss Bingley. What are you doing here?” Darcy asked, immediately standing. “Are you lost? Might I help direct you back to the ballroom?” She answered him with a cloying smile.
“No, Mr. Darcy. I have found what I am looking for.”
The gooseflesh began to creep up Darcy’s arms as he realized her intent. “Miss Bingley, I suggest you make your way back to the ballroom before your absence is noticed.”
A throaty laugh escaped her lips. “Oh, Fitzwilliam. Do not be coy with me. I know what you need. Do you think I would allow you to strap yourself to that sickly woman and lock away all your passion? I realize you cannot marry me. I will marry Mr. Knight, then we can have it all.”
“Bertram?” Darcy asked, shaking his head. “You are to marry Bertram Knight?”
“Yes,” Miss Bingley said, slowly making her way toward him. Darcy took a step back. “There can be no suspicion if I already reside nearby. We can continue our relationship with no one being the wiser.”
“Nonsense. We have no relationship nor will we ever. You will stand on that side of the room while I call for a maid, and we will not mention this to anyone.”
Her laugh echoed throughout the silent room. “Oh, Fitzwilliam. Do not force me to run out into the ballroom and tell everyone I have just been compromised by Mr. Darcy.”
His whole life had been an avoidance of circumstances such as this. He had never been placed in a situation where he could be ensnared by mercenary daughters—or mothers for that matter—until today. His face remained set and his eyes steely while he listened to her continue with her demands.
“Knowing that I cannot be the true mistress of Pemberley, I will accept your carte blanche.”
“Madam,” he interrupted, his jaw tightening harder, “you know little of my character to imagine that I would ever keep a mistress. When I take a wife, she will be the only woman I share any part of myself with. I suggest you cease this ridiculous conversation and remove yourself immediately from my presence before you regret your actions.”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam…” She smirked. “You will do as I say, oryouwill regretyouractions.”
He stepped toward her and said, “Miss Bingley, I have never laid my hands forcefully upon a female before…”
“But I have.” Standing in the doorway was his cousin Richard. Lady Matlock and Elizabeth Bennet peering around his shoulder.
“Colonel!” Miss Bingley started but gathered her wits quickly. “I am so grateful you are here. Mr. Darcy tried to…” She crumpled onto the nearest chair, whimpering. “What shall I do? How shall members of thetonthink of me when they learn…?”
Before he could retort, he heard his aunt hiss through clenched teeth. “Miss Bingley, how unfortunate that you became lost while looking for the cloak room. I had heard about your early departure.”
“Oh, I am not leaving,” Miss Bingley said confidently, wiping away her feigned tears.
“Oh, but you are, my dear. Because, Miss Bingley, if it became known that you were propositioning Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley at his engagement ball, in my home, I can assure you, your future in London would be bleak.”
“But that is not…”
“Is that not what you heard, Richard? Miss Elizabeth? Let me tell you something, Miss Bingley. The stench of trade still emanates all about you. That could never be overlooked if you so much ashinteda scandal involving my nephew. You would be fortunate to marry a blacksmith because I would make sure that no one in polite society acknowledged your existence.”
Miss Bingley blanched.
“And I would recommend that you treat yourself to a long holiday… somewhere far away. Because, you will not find a welcome from anyone in London until I have recovered from this insult to my person.”
“Yes, Your Ladyship.”
“Good. Now,” she said with practiced ennui, “allow me to escort you to the door.”
