Perhaps she is awaiting the moment that she might get him alone. No need to worry about Fitzwilliam, then, for it seems her mind is still on Wickham. Why does she persist in looking at him?
Darcy supposed she must not wish to compete with the other young simpletons who danced attendance upon George Wickham. A flush of disbelieving irritation heated his back and made his neck itch as he watched her surreptitiously watching Wickham.
Shedoeslove him. Knowing the truth of his character has not dimmed her admiration.
He had not truly believed it, not even when he wrote it in his letter, but if she could be thus entranced, despite all she now knew of the wretch, then it must be love. Nausea rose within his gut, and he had to look away.
When he returned his eyes to her, Elizabeth had moved position, slowly walking round a column. Darcy did likewise, keeping her within his sights.Deuce!She had moved to have an improved view of Wickham, and judging from the way she pressed her lips together and knitted her brow, she was not best pleased. Was she jealous?
At least it is not Fitzwilliam.
Darcy cast a look over towards where his cousin stood, also amid a gaggle of silly young things, enjoying himself immensely. At least if he lost Elizabeth to Fitzwilliam, he would know her life would be enjoyable. But no, she would surrender herself to the misery of marriage to a libertine. He shook his head, his vexation stoking itself into fury at her stupidity.
Wickham asked some young lady to dance and led her away; suddenly Elizabeth turned and was walking directly towards him. Before Darcy could stop himself, he stepped in front of her, arresting her progress.
“Mr Darcy!” She curtseyed but he, rudely, did not bow, choosing instead to loom over her.
“Did you even read my letter?”
“What?” She drew away from him, eyes wide. “R-read your letter?”
“The letter I gave you in the grove at Rosings.” He stepped closer. “Wherein I laid everything out before you, everything abouthim.”
She edged away from him, seeming alarmed. “Mr Wickham?”
“Yes, George Wickham!”
“Of course I read it,” she said, sounding affronted.
“Then how is it that he still manages to capture your fascination? I thought you cleverer than to imagine a handsome face could prevail over ugliness of character. Did you think I was lying? My cousin is directly over there”—he stabbed his finger in Fitzwilliam’s general direction—“should you want to consult him, as I said you could in my letter. He will confirm every particular.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Elizabeth took a deep breath. Her tone was even when she said, “I do not require verification, Mr Darcy. I believed every syllable of your letter from the first reading.”
“Oh? You cannot deny your interest. You have scarcely been able to take your eyes from him.”
He had angered her now; her eyes flashed when she looked up at him. “Yes, I am interested—interested in making sure my sister does not fall prey to him.”
“Your sister?”
“Lydia.” Elizabeth gestured towards one of Wickham’s remaining coterie. “Shetakes an eager interest in him, and I am determined to keep her from harm. It washerI was watching. Not him.” She flicked a cool glance towards Darcy.
Fury seeped away alarmingly quickly, to be replaced by abashed stupidity. “Oh.”
They stood together in strained silence while the rest of the party laughed and cavorted about them. The musicians played some Scottish reel that had everyone else dancing about merrily. Darcy thought his spirits could not have been a greater contrast to it.
“I read your letter, sir,” she said at length. “And certainly did not disbelieve you. I could not imagine you telling me such…about your own…in any case, I had no doubts as to the truth of it. Yet I did not think it my right to share it with any of my acquaintance, not even my own father, though I cannot help but think that if Mr Wickham’s true character was known, he would not be received. But for now, he is, and I must resort to vigilance to keep my sisters from a dire fate, particularly as I fear my sister may be permitted to spend the summer in Brighton with the regiment.”
Darcy nodded numbly. “Forgive me for suggesting that you?—”
“Were in love with that loathsome cur?” Another coolly resentful glance was directed his way. “Just so we are both in full understanding of the matter, I was noteverin love with Mr Wickham. Not before I knew his true character, and certainly not now. My education was disinterested, it is true, but I do still flatter myself that I am not an idiot. Excuse me, please.”
She turned on her heel and very nearly collided with Fitzwilliam, who had approached them unnoticed. Needless to say, he was not backwards to any scene or situation that resulted in Elizabeth Bennet nearly landing in his embrace. “Ho, Miss Elizabeth! Steady on!”
“Forgive me, Colonel,” she said, sounding subdued. Fitzwilliam glanced over her head at Darcy in query, but Darcy only looked away.
Recovering nicely into bonhomie and bluster, Fitzwilliam exclaimed, “I began to think you were hiding from me!”
“Hiding from you?” She tilted her head up at him. “I am in plain sight, sir, and standing next to your own relation. If my intention was to hide, I should have done a poor job of it.”
