“Not nearly soon enough,” he muttered.
Chapter 40
Manchester
“MysweetestJane,youmake the most beautiful bride in the world. I hope Mr Bingley knows how lucky he is.” Elizabeth kissed her sister on the cheek then stood back, clasping Jane’s fingers and admiring her.
Jane blushed. “Oh, Lizzy, you would say that if I had warts and wore sackcloth. Really, do I look well?”
Elizabeth held up a looking glass. “You look like the angel Mr Bingley always says you are. See for yourself.”
Jane gingerly touched the edges of her hair, the lace of her gown, and smiled bashfully into the mirror. “I cannot believe that isme.Only think what Mama would say!”
“Oh, we would never hear the end of it. The entire country would know by nightfall how many roses you carried and the size of the pearls you wore. I do think the pearls a fine choice, by the way, even if the countess says they are too mournful for a wedding.”
Jane’s eyes fell to the reflection of her neckline, and her fingers trailed the watery beads. “For Papa. Charles was so thoughtful in giving them to me.”
“And that goodly man is anxiously awaiting his angelic bride. Come, dearest, let me help you with your veil.”
Jane was, indeed, a perfect vision. Elizabeth could hardly take her eyes away as her sister took her place in the front of the church, passed her bouquet to Elizabeth, and then pledged herself to love and honour Mr Bingley.
The one sight more alluring than Jane’s beauty was William, standing opposite the couple. Tall and robust, striking in every look and move, he almost appeared as one of the Greek heroes of old. She thrilled in looking at him, for though any woman would be proud to be seen on his arm, it was herself he watched with warm, almost heartsick longing. It was she who knew just how smooth that proud jawline was, how easily his meticulous curls turned wild with the lightest caress, and how tender those penetrating blue eyes could be. And it was she who could twist the delicate ring of his troth round her finger.
Elizabeth was not blind to the curious, and occasionally noxious glances cast her way from some of the onlookers. Mr Bingley’s sister had been one of the most pronounced examples—a barely concealed sneer, a veiled invective regarding her background, and a marked attempt to draw William’s attention and approval to herself. Fortunately, Elizabeth had been warned beforehand about Caroline Bingley and others like her. And, fortunately, she was secure in the loyalty of her lover and the stout-hearted support of Lord and Lady Matlock. And so, all the poison-tipped arrows fell as only harmless petals round her feet as she gloried in Jane’s happiness and the anticipation of her own.
The nuptials were consecrated, and the celebratory meal commenced. Elizabeth, seated nearest William, found much amusement in the way others stared at and then conspicuously whispered about her. Even Lady Matlock noted it, leaning near Elizabeth’s ear with her fan raised. “They would not be half so resentful if you were not ten times prettier than any of them. They may be caked with rouge and primped within an inch of their lives, but my dear, you do not require such enhancements.”
Elizabeth thanked her with a laugh and turned her attention back to the happy couple. Others might posture and repine, but for herself, she meant only to think on the day as it gave pleasure. Until, that was, an urgent message arrived for Lord Matlock as he was drinking his champagne.
The earl’s features turned grey upon reading it. He looked immediately to Elizabeth, then William, and he rose hastily. “Forgive me, Mr Bingley, Mrs Bingley,” he said in a low voice. “I am very sorry, but I must go at once—it cannot be helped.”
Elizabeth turned to William. Dread knifed through her stomach when she saw the tight crease round his mouth, and the barest tremor pass over his features. She thought he would rise at once and follow his cousin, but he firmly clasped her hand under the table. “I think we are both wanted,” he whispered.
Dismayed, she followed him, with a pleading look for Jane to forgive her for stepping out. “I will be back,” she mouthed. Surely, nothing could bethatimportant, that it would call her away for the remainder of the festivities. But as soon as they came out of the room, the earl was beckoning them to himself with a look that would not be gainsaid.
“My carriage,” Matlock ordered the footman. “Tell them to step quickly!”
“What is this all about?” Darcy demanded.
The earl’s only response was a thinning of his lips, a hardening of his flinty grey eyes.
“Reginald,” Darcy hissed. “We cannot leave in the middle of the wedding feast!”
“Stow it, Darcy. We are for the next train out of Manchester, if I have to gag and bind you.”
Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged astonished glances, and his fist started to clench.
“My lord,” Elizabeth reasoned, resting a staying hand over William’s, “surely Lady Matlock would wish to join us. Shall we not at least take our leave properly and call for our bags?”
Matlock’s gaze rested on her—his teeth strangely visible behind a pained grimace, his chest rising in rapid gasps. “We will talk in the carriage.”
Outrage simmered in William’s countenance, but he was all gentleness with her. “Call for your maid to send down a warmer wrap,” he urged her. “I would not see you take a chill.” With a daggered look at the earl, he added, “Are you certain Elizabeth must leave her sister on her wedding day? Surely, I can attend—”
“It is Elizabeth who must come,” Matlock snapped. “Inviting you was a courtesy, and one I may regret.”
Hot nausea coiled in Elizabeth’s belly.He knew. Someone had informed on her, told of her secret. Now, the earl who had protected her, offered her a place in the world and dignity that was not her own, was casting her out. Common sense tried to edge into her thoughts—after all, who could have known? And why now? But guilt was heavier, remorse more powerful, and so when William slipped his hand over hers, she clasped it with desperation and a passionate hope that her assumptions might be wrong.
The carriage came around at last, and the earl barked out a command to drive to the station. Elizabeth was wedged beside Darcy, their hands laced tightly together. The earl frowned at this, then set his teeth and said nothing until they were well on the road.
