The casual mention of the Bennet sisters sent ice through Darcy’s veins. “You will leave them alone.”
“Will I?” Wickham’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise. “Such vehemence. Have you developed an interest in one of these ladies yourself?”
“They are under my employer’s protection,” Darcy said. “I won’t have them troubled by fortune hunters.”
“Fortune hunter? Such harsh words.” Wickham examined his nails again with affected hurt. “I prefer ‘gentleman seeking advantageous marriage.’ It sounds so much more respectable.”
“It sounds like what it is—mercenary and dishonourable.”
“Dishonourable?” Wickham’s laugh was sharp. “From the man who convinced Lady Anne to favour him over her steward’s natural son? You speak to me of honour?”
The accusation hit its mark, as Wickham had known it would. That old guilt, never quite buried—the knowledge that Lady Anne’s kindness to him had indeed come at some cost to George, that his presence in their household had shifted balances he was too young to understand.
“Lady Anne’s choices were her own,” Darcy said.
“Indeed, they were. And my choices are mine.” Wickham moved towards the door, then paused with theatrical timing. “I think I shall accept your hospitality for a few days, if you don’t mind. It will give me time to… assess the local situation.”
“George, I meant what I said about the family.”
“Perdition, Fitzwilliam. I have no desire to set your bristles up or anyone else’s. And I have no immediate designs on anyone.” Wickham’s smile held all its old dangerous charm. “Though I confess myself curious about these paragons who inspire such protective instincts.”
After Wickham had made himself at home in the small guest chamber, Darcy remained standing, staring at the gathering darkness beyond his windows. George’s arrival changed everything, introduced variables he could not control.
Chapter Seven
Longbourn House
October 1811
“Cousin Elizabeth,” Mr Collins announced over breakfast, his voice carrying that particular blend of smugness and piety that made her teeth ache, “I have been most favourably impressed by your domestic accomplishments. Your gracious manner at table, your evident attention to proper deportment—why, Lady Catherine herself could find no fault with your conduct.”
Elizabeth stirred her tea with perhaps more vigour than necessary. “How gratifying to know I should meet with her ladyship’s approval.”
“Indeed! And might I add, your morning gown is most becoming. Such modest elegance speaks well of your understanding of what is appropriate for a young lady of your elevated station.”
Jane caught Elizabeth’s eye across the table, her lips twitched with suppressed amusement. Their mother, thankfully, had not yet appeared for the morning meal. The tension between Mr Collins and their mother had been vexing, to say the least. It had bothered Lady Hartford immensely that they had no son to pass the title to and that it would fall to Mr Collins in due course.
She did her best to tolerate their houseguest, but Elizabeth knew her mother’s nerves were stretched beyond their usual capacity.
“You are too kind, Cousin,” Elizabeth replied, wondering how many more days of such observations she could endure without developing a permanent headache.
Collins preened at what he clearly interpreted as encouragement. “Not at all! A gentleman must speak truth when he observes such refined qualities. Why, I was just remarking to your father yesterday that you possess exactly those accomplishments Lady Catherine deems most essential in a well-bred young lady.”
The conversation might have continued in this vein indefinitely, but Jane rose. “Lizzy, did you not mention wanting to ride out this morning? The weather seems quite fine.”
Elizabeth seized upon the escape with gratitude that bordered on desperation. “Indeed, I did. Shall we go directly?”
“Pray, do not let my presence curtail your exercise,” Collins said magnanimously. “Though I must caution you against riding too far without proper escort. Young ladies of your rank must be ever mindful of their safety and reputation.”
“We shall take the greatest care,” Elizabeth assured him, already moving towards the door before he could offer further guidance on proper feminine behaviour.
Half an hour later, they were mounted and heading towards the more picturesque paths that wound through Lord Hartford’s extensive grounds. Elizabeth’s mare, Duchess, seemed as eager to escape the confines of the stable as her mistress had been to flee the breakfast room.
“Poor Lizzy,” Jane said once they were well clear of the house. “He does seem quite taken with you.”
“Taken with the idea of me,” Elizabeth corrected, guiding Duchess around a fallen branch. “I suspect any of Papa’s daughters would serve his purposes equally well. We are all sufficiently well-connected to satisfy his ambitions and Lady Catherine’s requirements. He surely has overheard that there is an attachment between you and Mr Bingley, and so he has moved on to the second sister in line. If I reject him, it will be Mary next.
“Poor Mary,” Jane said with a shake of the head. Elizabeth noted that she hadn’t denied any attachment to Mr Bingley.
