Elizabeth hesitated, studying his kind face. Could she trust him to act? If he was not strong enough to stand up to his own sister, he was not deserving of Jane. She decided to put him to the test. “Caroline said she would tell all her London friends that I entrapped Mr. Darcy.”
Bingley’s color drained at once. For a dreadful moment, she thought he might faint. She called out, “Mrs. Hurst, pray come, Mr. Bingley is unwell!”
Louisa hurried to her brother’s side. Jane also rose and joined them. Elizabeth chafed his hand lightly. “He has suffered a shock. Perhaps a little brandy.”
Mr. Hurst poured a measure and handed it to Bingley, who swallowed it gratefully. Beads of perspiration appeared on his brow. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his face. Louisa looked on anxiously; their father had died of a heart seizure at fifty, and now she feared for her brother. She pressed another glass of brandy upon him, and after a few sips, his color returned.
He sank back on the couch and drew a deep breath. When he could speak, he turned to his sister. “Louisa, Caroline just threatened Miss Elizabeth. She said she would tell her London friends that Darcy had been entrapped.”
Louisa blanched. Mr. Hurst poured another measure of brandy and handed it to his wife, who drank it and began to cough and splutter, but her color soon improved.
When she could speak, she said, “She will drag Mr. Darcy’s name in the gutter, and she will bring all of us down with him.” She turned to Elizabeth. “You and your four sisters will all be ruined, and it would be the end of the long friendship between Darcy and Charles.” She wrung her hands. “We will be a pariah in society. But how can we prevent her?”
Bingley shook his head. “It cannot be done. She cannot be prevented; she is impulsive, unrestrained, and acts before she thinks, even when it is to her own detriment.”
Louisa pressed her lips together. “We would need to monitor and destroy all her correspondence, forbid her from visiting any of her friends, and basically isolate her. It is impossible. Could you threaten her with loss of allowance?”
He sighed. “It would do no good. She would spread the story first and beg forgiveness afterward.”
Louisa groaned. “Then we must inform Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth spoke softly. “Please, I will speak with him. The threat was made to me, and I would rather he hear it from my lips. Let him arrive, rest, and see to his sister’s comfort before we distress him.”
All agreed.
Bingley rubbed his forehead. “I do not think I can act naturally. He will see at once that something is wrong.”
“If he does,” Elizabeth said quietly, “I will take him aside and tell him. Or perhaps he will read it in my face and draw me aside first. Either way, he shall know as is his right, and perhaps I will need to withdraw and free him before it is too late.”
Moisture brightened her eyes, but she did not weep. Everyone in the room felt for her. Mr. Hurst muttered an oath, and Louisa shook her head. “Caroline will ever be a thorn in our side,” she said bitterly.
Bingley turned to Jane. Her face revealed both distress and quiet revulsion. She rose and went to sit beside Mary, and Elizabeth followed, taking the seat on Jane’s other side.
It was thus they sat, three silent sisters side by side, when Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam rode up to the house and dismounted.
All the occupants of the drawing room rose as one and moved toward the entrance. Mr. Bingley stepped out first, followed by Mr. Hurst. Darcy was handing his reins to the footman when he looked up, his gaze sweeping over the gathered faces until he found Elizabeth. His expression brightened, and a smile softened his features.
Her heart stilled, and the dread that churned in her stomach ebbed. Perhaps he would find a way to dispel the threat Caroline held over them. He was walking toward her now, his eyes taking in her face and figure, and she could see that he was pleased. A rush of gratitude for Aunt Maddie’s care and thoughtfulness rose within her. Her cheeks warmed under his scrutiny, yet her gaze did not waver.
She would strive to know this man. They would spend time together, learn one another’s minds, and, in time, she would welcome him to her heart and her bed. Her breath caught at the thought. Perhaps not. She must give him the chance to withdraw, to preserve his name from disgrace if that was his wish.
She saw alarm flicker across his face. Oh, her treacherous eyes; they had betrayed her fears. As he moved nearer, she attempted another smile, but it only seemed to heighten his alarm. Her glance shifted to the others; all were watching them, all were watching her. Then she noticed the man beside him, clearly his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was tall and comely, very like Darcy himself. He was helping a young, fair-haired girl to descend. Darcy’s sister, she realized.
The child looked up and caught Elizabeth’s gaze. Elizabeth smiled, and as the girl came skipping forward, she could not help but laugh. She moved down the steps past Fitzwilliam, past the Hursts and her sisters, all of whom seemed frozen, waiting for calamity to strike. Then the dreadful stillness was broken. The child stood before her, smiling brightly.
“Georgiana?” Elizabeth asked gently.
“Yes, and you are Miss Elizabeth?”
“I am,” Elizabeth replied, reaching out to take her hands.
The girl threw her arms around Elizabeth, and Elizabeth laughed, holding her close.
Georgiana drew back. “May I call you Elizabeth?”
“You may, or Lizzy, as my sisters do.”
“Oh, Lizzy! I have longed for a sister, and you are the very one I would have chosen if God had allowed me the choice.”
