“The very idea of it, Charles! You have something better to do. You might as well suggest that Mr Darcy fight in the militia. How absurd!”
Darcy looked up from his letter-writing. “You are quite right that I have no intention of joining a militia, Miss Bingley,” he said dryly. “But I do not look on that as the result of great merit on my part. Perhaps you are not aware that my cousin is a colonel in the Regulars — and Colonel Fitzwilliam is the younger son of the Earl of Matlock.”
It was evident that Miss Bingley hadnotknown, or at least had forgotten. She went paper-white at the rebuke. Bingley wore a broad grin. Clearly, he had no mind to resent his friend chastising his sister, at least when the criticism was so well deserved.
Darcy turned away and went back to his letter. Yet he found it rather hard going. He could not seem to keep his attention on what he was writing. Other thoughts would intrude. He had been going mad with curiosity at how Elizabeth was getting on after their discovery in the library a few days prior. The rain had kept them all housebound over the course of the last few days. He was eager to continue on with their investigation. Perhaps making a visit to Longbourn would set the investigation in motion once more.
Even his distraction could not make the chore of writing last forever. After a few minutes, he finished his letter, blotted it, and folded it to seal later.“I think I will take a turn about the yard,” Darcy said abruptly.
Bingley stood up. “I shall join you with a good will, if you would like the company.”
Darcy shook his head with alacrity. “No — I thank you, no. Bingley, you know I would welcome you as a companion any other time, but I feel myself much in need of a little time alone to think.” Bingley good-naturedly gave way at once and waved his friend out the door. Darcy’s blood hammered in his head as he slipped out the side library door and headed across the green toward Longbourn. He felt like a moth being attracted by a flame, and all the while never caring that he was being drawn. Elizabeth was like an intoxicating force that sent his head to spinning. Of course, he had tried to keep her from capturing his thoughts every moment of the day. But even necessary letters of business — even letters to Georgiana — seemed to call his thoughts back to her. Write to his solicitor, and he thought of the matters to be arranged, if she did indeed become his wife. Think of Georgiana, and he could not help but reflect on the joy he would have in introducing Elizabeth to his little sister.
Darcy stepped over the low hedge and came out onto the road. After an interlude of walking steadily, he recognised a large oak as one that stood only a little way from Longbourn — he was nearly there, and passing by the turn that led to Meryton. He saw a large party walking ahead of him and could hear their laughter echoing over the fields and down the lane. Upon recognising several of the party, Darcy grimaced and set a brisk pace to catch up to them. There were several officers with the Bennet sisters, no doubt gentlemen they had met in town. Miss Lydia Bennet seemed to attract the militia everywhere she went.
They stopped when they reached the Longbourn estate, and Darcy could see them all saying their farewells. All but one of the officers moved away down the road, and the Bennet sisters began to file through the gate.
Darcy’s breath caught in his throat. He could clearly recognise Elizabeth now. She had been waylaid by one of the soldiers. Jealousy instantly rose inside him. The man’s back was turned slightly toward Darcy, but he could see he was getting much too close to Elizabeth. And from the look on her face, she was not entirely at ease.
To his shock and amazement, the man bent and kissed Elizabeth’s hand. And he had not even tried to hide the gesture! A second later, with Darcy only a few paces away, the man turned.
Wickham! Darcy’s heart surged with anger. Wickham’s actions towards Georgiana had already brought Darcy to the depths of anger and contempt. When faced with the man again, only to see him flirting with his fiancée —
It was more than Darcy could bear.
Only once in his life had Darcy been so angry — when he had visited Georgiana in Ramsgate and discovered that he was only just in time to save her from throwing her life away. He had intended to ignore Wickham’s presence in Meryton. But to see Wickham fondling Elizabeth’s hand was beyond the limit. He strode toward the pair.
“Wickham!” he bellowed, startling the man.
Wickham turned on his heel, looking as surprised as Elizabeth.“Darcy,” he said coldly.“I did not know you were there.”
“Indeed. I am sure you would not have been kissing another man’s betrothed if you had known. Or is your honour so corrupted that you would feel no shame?” Darcy’s chest heaved with every breath, his hands shaking. He clenched them tightly at his sides to keep from striking him.
“It is not untoward to kiss a lady’s hand,” Wickham said, narrowing his eyes.“If the lady took offense, I will apologise.”
Darcy looked at Elizabeth, seething in silence. She clasped her hands in front of her, her knuckles white. She looked between the two of them for a moment, an angry blush creeping up her cheeks.“I think it best you go, Mr Wickham. Good day,” she said curtly. With angry satisfaction, Darcy noted she omitted even the slightest bow.
Wickham thankfully took the hint. He bowed once more to Elizabeth, but not to Darcy, and went on his way.
“Did he harm you?” Darcy forced himself to ask.
“Mr Darcy!” Elizabeth said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “No — Mr Wickham is only a little over-gallant.”
“I will not apologise for running him off. He is a dangerous man, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said.
She raised her chin in defiance. Or was it wounded pride?“I did not know we had an appointment today.” Her words were clipped, her tone angry. But if nothing untoward had happened between the pair, why was she so defensive?
“We did not,” he snapped. She turned to go through the gate, but he stepped up beside her and closed it. Their faces were inches apart, and he could see her shock, as well as something more. Darcy frowned, but the expression disappeared before he could identify it, clouded by animosity.
“Is there something I can do, Mr Darcy? Or do you plan to keep me out here all afternoon?” she asked.
Darcy was too upset to think through his response. How had she been alive this long without seeing what Wickham was about? “Is it your practice to go about with men not your betrothed? Indeed, to allow them to kiss your hand?”
The words were no sooner out that he regretted them. Darcy knew he should not have said it, but anger made him betray himself.
“Of course not,” she said, clearly offended.“Mr Wickham and some of the other officers saw my sisters and I home from Meryton. If you had been here a moment earlier, you would have seen that I pulled my hand away. And we were not alone, but in plain view of anyone who might pass along on the lane, as you yourself did.”
Darcy knew he had to keep his emotions under control. An emotion he had not had to contend with for a long while was rising up in his soul. Jealousy. It did not help that the man who had brought up those jealous feelings when he was a boy was the same man who seemed to be flirting with his fiancée.“Forgive me if my eyes deceive me,” he said. He looked toward the house and saw that every one of Elizabeth’s family, save her father, was watching them from the parlour window, no doubt coming up with all sorts of ideas for what they might be discussing.“Perhaps we may find someplace we can speak in private?” he suggested.
