“Yes, it was his family who was sent word. He has been dead for weeks, it seems, but no one knew of it, because he and the officers he was traveling with were set upon by enemy troops and taken captive. It was only after they got back that they were able to confirm that he was gone. His body is…” Mr. Darcy squared his shoulders. “There is not even a grave somewhere to go and visit, it seems.”
Elizabeth put her hand to her chest.
“I am so sorry,” he breathed.
She shook her head. “He was killed in battle?”
“In a carriage accident, it seems.”
“Weeks ago?” she said, her voice very calm. “I am a widow.”
“Madam, attend to me,” he said. “You might as well go to the ball tonight.”
Her gaze jerked up to meet his. “What?”
“You are a widow. You must go into mourning now for a year. You will not have other balls.”
“But that is—” She made a disbelieving noise in her throat. “Obviously, I am too overcome togoto a ball.”
“Maybe you could stand the distraction,” said Mr. Darcy, and he meant it.
“You, sir, you are the last person who I would think would advise such a thing. It would be wrong.”
He considered. “Perhaps.”
She settled her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “You don’t do things if you think they are wrong.”
“My sister… I must take her. She would be crushed else. If she does not see Neithern again, I don’t think she can have closure on what is likely her first romance besides…”
“Wickham,” Elizabeth breathed, looking away.
“And I want you to come because it will make me feel better for going. I told you because I want someone else to know.” His voice was starting to shake.
She let out a breath. “Yes, all right.”
“What?”
“Yes, you’re right. I am going into mourning for a year. I shan’t be able to go anywhere social for six months, no balls at all.”
It was true. After six months, she’d be in half-mourning, and she could wear grays and dark blues and come to balls, but not dance. She could call upon people at that point. She couldresume her life. But for six months, she must go away and hide, essentially.
She looked up at him. “I shall come along, then. Not for you, Mr. Darcy, but for myself.” There was something gentle in her tone, and he knew she was, in fact, doing this entirely for him.
His heart lurched.
No one did that.
No one at all.
He did things for people all the time. Painful and difficult things, and no one ever reciprocated, and he never even minded. In fact, he had not thought that people were even meant to. It was his job and his responsibility and—
“Thank you, Lizzy,” he whispered.
“Of course, Fitz,” she said.
CAROLINE BINGLEY HADbeen planning her trap for Houseman and the Duke of Neithern for two weeks. She had brought Georgiana Darcy into the scheme only because it was easier than trying to attempt it all on her own.
At first, Georgiana had balked, saying that she had no desire to trick a man into a marriage. She shouldn’t have to trick anyone, after all. She was an heiress with a sizable dowry.
