“She was not moved by the scratches on your arms and hands?”
“You spared me from the thorns’ marks too well. The few scratches I did receive were not enough to move her to sympathy when she considers me to be the source of our family’s ruin.” She nodded at my bare hands. “I see the salve has soothed the welts.”
I bit my tongue and nodded, unwilling to relinquish the memento sitting safely in my waistcoat pocket. Her handkerchief smelled like her hair, and I liked the smoothness of the purple pansy stitched on the corner. Had Elizabeth not been sitting in front of me, I probably would have pulled it out and run my finger over the thread.
I had not given the delicate flower much consideration until recently, but pansies were admirable plants. They traced the edges of the fields long after harvest, surviving the downpours and braving early frosts. They defied the elements with a bold hue that refused to conform to the drab landscape. They were charming in their impertinence… much like Elizabeth herself.
Right now, she looked so delicate under the folds of the blanket, so troubled. “I worry about my sisters.”
I wished I could console her, but she had ample reasons to worry. With their home entailed and the lack of meaningful dowries, the Bennet sisters had little that would recommendthem to gentlemen of their station even if the younger managed to avoid ruin before the elder married.
An offer from me would ensure another from Bingley, which would cast the remaining sisters in a more favorable light… provided they sought guidance from one qualified to instruct them. Considering the length of time Elizabeth and I had been enclosed in the small cabin together, I was already planning to do the honorable thing and propose to her. Unfortunately, I was no longer confident she would accept—at least, not to save her own reputation. And I did not want her to marry me merely to protect her sisters from ruin. I wanted more.
It was a risk, but I decided to trust her. “If there is one skill I have had the unhappy responsibility to develop, it is salvaging a reputation from ruin.”
Though she was too polite to ask, her eyes pleaded for more. I liked that about her. Her expressions were open, honest. I would afford her the same insight into my character.
I began cautiously. “I do not know what Wickham has told you about my family.”
“He told me you denied him his inheritance,” she responded with a perplexed furrow of her brow.
“That is only partly true. Hesoldhis inheritance. For three thousand pounds.”
She gasped.
“It was more than I ought to have given him, but he was my father’s godson and had been my childhood friend. I hoped he would use the sum wisely. However, not five years later, during which I heard nothing from him, he showed his face at Pemberley to appeal for more money. When I refused, he schemed to elope with my little sister.”
Another gasp.
I added, “Georgiana’s dowry is thirty thousand pounds. She was only fifteen.”
Elizabeth gripped the blanket around her, her eyes ablaze. “And Lydia is but fifteen. It is indecent! To prey on young innocents… It is sickening!” She shivered. “How can I trust my own judgment when I did not suspect his hypocrisy?”
How quickly she had redirected her anger away from the one deserving of it! I could not allow her to assume any blame. “You would not be the first to be deceived by him.”
“And you cannot reveal his deceit without exposing your sister. I doubted your character on nothing more than the lies of a selfish man you had thwarted from ruining your family.”
So drastic was her change of opinion in my favor, I needed to be certain her conclusion was based on substance. “I have given you no proof other than my word, much as Wickham must have done. Why do you believe me now?”
“He confided a great deal in me when we were only newly acquainted, and I foolishly believed everything he said without seeking evidence that his character was trustworthy.” Her hands gestured under the covers, threatening to displace them until she gripped the edges around her face again. “You, on the other hand, led everyone to think little of you when you refused to engage in conversation, yet your actions since the Netherfield Ballproveyou are the superior gentleman. I would not feel so safe here in your company here otherwise.”
She paused. “Or am I wrong about you, too, Mr. Darcy?” There was a plea in her look. Falling for Wickham’s deception had, understandably, shaken the confidence she had in her judgement.
“I would never harm you or endanger your reputation.” I had exposed my faults and frailties to her, leaving nothing more to reveal than my growing regard for her.
She tilted her chin. “You are an intelligent man, and yet you allow people to think ill of you. Why?”
I shook my head and took a deep breath. Not even to Richard had I confessed my motive. “It is the only way I am allowed any peace.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You sound like my father.”
The comparison was not flattering. “It is no secret that I am an unmarried gentleman from a good family and in possession of a large fortune.”
She nodded.
From her perspective, what I was about to tell her would sound like the quibblings of a privileged dandy—or worse, a defenseless victim. I hoped she would see the humor in what I had endured and would not think less of me for it. Speaking through a clenched jaw, I proclaimed in a severe tone, “This season alone, I escaped from three artfully contrived compromises.”
She froze, her expression too diverse to read with accuracy until she burst into laughter. “Oh, the irony!” Snuggling into her blanket, she clasped her hands under her chin. “Pray enlighten me on how high society attempts to compromise a gentleman and how you skillfully evaded their traps! Clearly, there is much I could learn from them.”
