“My regard for Miss Elizabeth is both genuine and enduring. More importantly, my commitment to truth is unshakable. I will not allow falsehoods to stand, even those meant to protect me.”
Elizabeth’s words from that first fevered night echoed in his memory:“I might have accepted you had you spoken to me as if I mattered.”
“You would risk everything—your reputation, your position in society, Anne’s future—for this… this country girl?”
“I lied, and I involved Miss Elizabeth Bennet unfairly. The nursing situation further compromised her. What do you suggest I do? My reputation for honor is destroyed by my actions.”
Lady Catherine opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. “You did not propose to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You had no opportunity. Mrs. Collins provided proper chaperonage. If you believe differently, it’s because you are fevered.”
“No, Aunt Catherine,” Darcy said. “Too many people, including Georgiana, know the truth. All this lie has done is destroy my reputation and Miss Bennet’s. I have instructed Mr. Bingley to deliver a note to Miss Elizabeth, expressing my regret for any distress my fevered words may have caused her.”
This was not strictly true—he had not yet written such a note—but the moment the words left his mouth, Darcy knew it was exactly what he intended to do. Lady Catherine’s reaction confirmed the wisdom of this impulse.
“You have done what?” she demanded, her voice rising. “Without consulting me? Without considering the implications?”
“Miss Elizabeth cared for me through the worst of my fever, at considerable cost to her reputation. She deserved my thanks, at the very least.”
“She was compensated for her services,” Lady Catherine snapped. “There is no need for personal correspondence.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed at this revelation. “You paid Miss Elizabeth? As one would a common nurse?”
“Five pounds. A generous sum for a few days’ attendance. She accepted it most gratefully and seemed pleased to be relieved of sickroom duties.”
“I find that difficult to believe.” He stared at his aunt, whose expression remained stern. “I wish to speak to Miss Bennet.”
Lady Catherine waved a dismissive hand. “You are still bewitched by her, despite all evidence to the contrary. The girl took the money without hesitation, I assure you.”
“I am clear-sighted where Miss Elizabeth is concerned,” Darcy countered. “Particularly now.”
“Ho, Darcy, you’re awake.” Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the sickroom. “We feared the worst when the fever wouldn’t break.”
“Richard,” Darcy acknowledged, genuinely pleased to see his cousin. “I understand I have you to thank for bringing Georgiana safely to Netherfield.”
“The least I could do,” the colonel replied. “Though I must say, you’ve created quite the stir in the neighborhood. Ice wagons from three counties, Lady Catherine descending like an avenging angel, and half of Meryton laying wagers on your survival.”
The door opened again to admit Caroline Bingley, who hovered in the threshold with an expression of careful solicitude.
“Mr. Darcy,” she greeted him with a practiced smile. “What a relief to see you recovered. We have been beside ourselves with worry.”
Lady Catherine turned her imperious gaze upon Caroline. “Miss Bingley, I was just discussing with my nephew the importance of maintaining proper society now that this unfortunate episode is concluding. Your brother has been most accommodating, but I wonder at his continued association with certain families in the neighborhood.”
Caroline’s spine stiffened perceptibly. “I assure you, Lady Catherine, I have repeatedly advised Charles against renewingparticular connections. Some acquaintances are best left in the country when one returns to town.”
“Indeed,” Lady Catherine said with obvious approval. “London society can be most particular about whom it admits. A young man with your brother’s prospects should choose his associates with greater care.”
Darcy observed this exchange with growing irritation. Lady Catherine’s influence extended beyond his sickroom to determining which families in the neighborhood were deemed acceptable society. He had no doubt which “particular connections” Caroline referred to.
“There is one matter that cannot wait,” Darcy said, deliberately changing the subject. “I understand Lieutenant Wickham has been seen near Rosings Park.”
The colonel’s expression sobered immediately. “Yes, though he had disappeared again by the time I made inquiries. None could say what business brought him there.”
Lady Catherine shifted in her chair, drawing Darcy’s attention. Was that discomfort in her expression? Something beyond her usual imperiousness?
“Aunt,” he said carefully, “has Wickham approached you in any way? Perhaps with some scheme or proposition?”
“Certainly not,” she snapped. “I would never entertain that scoundrel.”
“Yet you seem unsurprised by news of his presence near Rosings,” Darcy pressed, watching her closely.
