Darcy
With shaking hands, he sanded and sealed the letter. He entrusted it to one of his grooms, who set off immediately on a fast horse. Darcy stood at the window, watching until the rider vanished from view. With the help of Providence, Wickham would soon no longer be a threat.
He did not leave the house again that day, instead brooding over the situation. The latest letter from Georgiana had held more enthusiasm than the last—a promising sign of progress. His sister would be well and whole again, and having Wickham contained could only hasten that outcome.
Darcy recalled Miss Elizabeth’s confusion as he had ridden away. He owed her no explanation, yet he felt compelled to give one all the same. She was already dear to him, and he wished to confide in her. Of all people, he felt she would understand the plague Wickham had been to the Darcys. She would empathize.
Only later did he recall that there had been another unknown gentleman among the Bennet sisters.Who is he?he wondered. When Bingley returned that evening, he had his answer.
“The man is a cousin,” Bingley explained. “Mr. William Collins. While you were distracted, he rambled on at length about his patroness…who is…none other than Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Darcy sat straight up. “That man is my aunt’s parson? Unbelievable.”
Bingley waggled his brows and laughed. “I suspected the name would mean something to you. I am certain you will find him entertaining. He is rather loquacious—much like Mrs. Bennet, but even worse. I could hardly get a word in for every five he uttered. I dare say your aunt’s ears are burning—he hardly composed a sentence without invoking her name.”
“Then I shall have something to look forward to.” Darcy raised his glass and took a drink.
The ladies had retired, leaving the gentlemen alone in the billiards room. Hurst had played two games before retreating to a chair next to the decanter. Bingley and Darcy continued their game, the former taking his turn while the latter savored his brandy.
“Your turn, old chap.” Darcy rose and took his place. Bingley stood off to the side as he aimed.
“Miss Elizabeth asked after you.”
Bingley’s words, unexpected though they were, sent a thrill through Darcy, and he missed the shot.
Straightening, he turned to face his friend. “You did that on purpose.”
“I cannot win against you any other way.” Bingley’s grin widened. “She seemed rather put out that you rode off so abruptly.” He waited, clearly expectant. When Darcy remainedsilent, Bingley slapped his thigh. “Come now, Darcy! She likes you—do not throw this away!”
“You mean I must not permit my fears to rule my actions?” Darcy glanced at the corner where Hurst now snored lightly, the decanter empty. “I am merely being cautious, Bingley. We—you and I—wish to marry for more than connection or wealth. Those are society’s expectations. It has ever been easy for you to gain a lady’s attention; her regard soon follows. That is not the case for me. Ladies are drawn to my place in society, not my person. Is it wrong that I proceed with care?”
Bingley was one of the few of Darcy’s friends who knew the extent of his past suffering, but even he could not truly understand. There were parts Darcy did not share with anyone. He hoped one day he might…with the right lady.
“I promise, I shall not close myself off to the possibility,” he said at last. “Pray, let me go about it in my own way.”
Bingley nodded, though his expression remained skeptical. “You are always careful. But be warned: love robs even the wisest of their judgment. It clouds the mind.”
Darcy inclined his head in acknowledgment. They retired soon after. He would rise early and seek out Elizabeth on Oakham Mount.
Chapter Eleven
November 20, 1811
Netherfield Park
Darcy
ColonelFitzwilliamarrivedshortlyafter six o’clock that evening. Dressed in his red coat, he waited for Darcy in the parlor.
“I believe I surprised your hostess, Darcy,” he said jovially. “She seemed quite flattered that the son of an earl would grace her with his presence.”
“Miss Bingley is easily impressed,” Darcy remarked. “My horse is ready. Shall we depart?”
“Yes, I think so. Better to see it done. My men are standing by to escort our mutual friend to the Marshalsea. He made a grave error last summer.” The colonel’s tone hardened. “I willaccompany them, for I shall not rest easy until he is safely locked away.”
“There is no guarantee that he has not already escaped.” Darcy did not know whether Wickham was aware that Richard hunted him, but he suspected that merely seeing his old rival would be enough to send the blackguard running, especially after Ramsgate.
Richard shrugged. “I believe he is still in the village. The notion of riding to town in a cart would be abhorrent to that rat. No, he will have purchased whatever comfort he could afford. I shall send one of my men to Forster. We may need the extra support.”
