“Mr. Wickham,” Mrs. Bennet said, turning to him with unexpected gravity, “you have done us a great service in revealing Mr. Darcy’s true character. To think I once lamented Lizzy’s refusal of him. The man is clearly without honor or principle.”
“But we cannot simply allow this insult to stand,” Mrs. Phillips protested. “Elizabeth’s reputation?—”
“I will not allow that man to call my daughter a liar!” Mrs. Bennet’s voice carried the force of maternal outrage. “We must consult your father. Mr. Bennet will know what to do. He must challenge Mr. Darcy to a duel!”
“Papa will do no such thing,” Elizabeth said with more certainty than she felt. “And if he attempted it, Mr. Darcy would likely laugh in his face.”
The thought of her beloved father being humiliated by Darcy’s arrogance made Elizabeth’s hands clench into fists. Bad enough that she had been made to look foolish—she would not see her family dragged down with her.
“I think,” Wickham said carefully, “that perhaps the wisest course would be to allow this matter to rest quietly. Public confrontation will only draw more attention to the situation.”
“Easy words from the man who created this catastrophe,” Elizabeth muttered, then immediately felt ashamed of her incivility. Wickham had acted from good intentions, however misguided.
“You are quite right to be angry with me,” Wickham said humbly. “I acted precipitously, and you are suffering for my foolishness. If there is any way I can make amends?—”
“There is not,” Elizabeth said firmly. “The damage is done.”
Elizabeth was trapped in a nightmare of her own making. Her indiscreet confidence in Wickham had become a public declaration of war, with her reputation as the battlefield.
“I will prove he is lying,” Elizabeth declared. “Whatever it takes, I will expose Fitzwilliam Darcy for the coward and deceiver he truly is!”
The room erupted in supporting voices, her family and friends rallying around with gratifying loyalty. Only Jane remained quiet, her gentle face troubled.
But Elizabeth was beyond caring about Jane’s concerns.
Darcy wanted to play games with her reputation? Very well. She would show him exactly what a country miss with limited experience could accomplish.
She would make him regret the day he ever set eyes on her.
CHAPTER FOUR
WHIRLWIND OF WOE
“Fitzwilliam!”
Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s commanding voice ricocheted through the elegant drawing room of Darcy’s London townhouse. Even the footman who had announced her flinched before backing discreetly from the room.
Darcy rose from his desk, steeling himself. His aunt’s unexpected arrival in town, without prior notice, could mean only one thing. The news had reached her.
“Aunt Catherine,” he said, bowing with perfect courtesy despite the tension in his shoulders. “This is an unexpected pleasure.”
“Pleasure? There is nothing pleasurable about my business today,” she declared, sweeping into the room like a whirlwind of woe. Her elaborate traveling dress rustled with indignation as she seated herself without invitation. “I have just come from Rosings, where I was subjected to the most alarming intelligence from Mr. Collins.”
Darcy remained standing, his posture rigid. “Indeed?”
“Do not play the innocent with me, Nephew.” Lady Catherine fixed him with a penetrating stare. “All of Hertfordshire is apparently in uproar over some ridiculous Bennet girl—the onewith the impertinent eyes who visited Charlotte Collins. They believe you compromised her.”
“I assure you, there is no substance to such claims.” Darcy’s voice remained steady, though he felt the familiar weight of guilt settling on his shoulders.
“No substance?” Lady Catherine’s voice vibrated with suppressed fury. “Collins reports that this country nobody claims you proposed to her. That you were found alone with her on numerous occasions without proper supervision. The entire county is apparently in arms over your denial of these interactions. There are witnesses who claim to have seen you calling at the parsonage when she was unaccompanied.”
Darcy felt heat rise in his chest. Elizabeth’s betrayal still burned like acid in his veins, and now he was forced to defend himself against the consequences of her indiscretion. “Whatever Miss Bennet has claimed, I can assure you that?—”
“Sit down,” Lady Catherine commanded, pointing imperiously at his chair. “We must discuss this rationally before it destroys our family’s reputation entirely.”
Darcy remained standing. “There is nothing to discuss. Miss Bennet has created a fiction, and I will not dignify it with a detailed explanation.”
“A fiction?” Lady Catherine’s laugh was bitter. “Collins writes that his wife’s sister witnessed your visits. That half of Meryton society is rallying to her defense. This threatens the honor of our entire family. Why did you not consult me immediately? When my daughter’s future happiness is at stake?”
