Elizabeth said nothing but held out a note, which he took and read with rapidly escalating emotion. He had heard the rumours of these girls—everyone had. Saye was downright aggrieved that they had never shown up at any party he had been at.Now we know why not!Fear, fury, and everything in between swirled behind his eyes. He swallowed a string of curses. So much for the past year of sorrowful contrition; clearly, Georgiana had learnt nothingfrom her misadventure with Wickham.Other than new heights of recklessness!To sneak anywhere unchaperoned and dressed as a man was outside of ruinous, but to go to one ofSullivan’sparties? That was downright perilous.
To make it all a hundred times worse, she had dragged Elizabeth’s sister into it. The sisterhehad roundly vilified as an indecorous and immodest liability! But it had not been Lydia Bennet who almost eloped with Wickham, had it? No, Miss Lydia had been staying with the Forsters all summer without incident, onlyventuring into disgraceful intrigues after being introduced tohissister! He passed the note back to Elizabeth and ran a hand over his face. “What was she thinking?”
“I do not believe there was much thought involved,” Elizabeth replied quietly.
He looked up, dismayed to comprehend that he had spoken aloud. “No. You are probably correct.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I am sorry to come to you like this. I would have called my uncle back from his dinner engagement, but while there was even a chance that Lieutenant Denny was talking about Miss Darcy, I did not want to risk alerting anyone for fear of exposing her.”
“That was generous of you. If foolhardy. I wish you had sent a servant for me instead of walking here on your own. One niece out unchaperoned about town is bad enough.” He was going to wring Georgiana’s neck for involving Elizabeth’s sister in this. Put a lock on her door. Delay her coming out until she was fifty!
Elizabeth pressed her lips together and regarded him for a few seconds before replying, stiffly, “I was upset and not thinking clearly. If I had been, I might have gone somewhere that would have caused me considerably less mortification.”
He tried not to flinch, but it was difficult. “You are mortified to be here?”
“I do not know how that can be surprising to you.”
Dismay flooded his veins. With the greatest trepidation, he said, “Elizabeth, please forgive me if I hurt you.”
She did not reply, and he could not read her expression, so he pressed, “Did I? Hurt you?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed, breathy and incredulous.
The word hit Darcy hard enough to wind him. “Then I cannot express how sorry I am.”
“Really?” she said in an unexpectedly sardonic tone. “I thought you expressed how veryun-sorryyou were remarkably well!”
“How un… What?”
“If you thought—” The soft clinking of a piece of falling plaster distracted her. She cast it a resentful look and tried again. “If you thought running into another woman’s arms hours after what passed between us wouldnotpain me, then you are far less clever than I believed.”
Darcy could only stare at her, bewildered. “What other woman?”
“Pray do not insult me by pretending not to know what I am talking about. Isawyou with Miss Larkin on the Steyne. Just as I have seen you with her everywhere else, draped over you in a way that would make Miss Bingley blush. I ought to have known?—”
“Are you referring to the moment that she kissed my cheek in thanks for saving her from a stray cricket ball to the back of the skull?”
Elizabeth hesitated, faltering over her reply. “She…you…maybe?”
Darcy let out a gust of laughter that was made brittle by exasperation and relief. “I have been going out of my senses with worry that I had misunderstood your feelings again—that you did notwantwhat happened between us—that I forced you in some way. When all the while it was Miss Larkin’s overdeveloped sense of gratitude that threw everything under a carriage!”
Elizabeth’s brow knitted together in consternation. “If you did not regret kissing me, why did you not call? You said you would!”
“I did! Only to be told that you were visiting yourbetrothed.” He saw the guilt that instantly suffused her face, and it gutted him, for it was confirmation, where he had so desperately been hoping for a denial. He sucked the back of his teeth, tasting the bitterness there, trying not to let it soak into his words as he interrupted whatever excuses she was about to give him to ask, “Did he talk to you? Tell you the truth about his proposal?”
She snapped her mouth closed and frowned in puzzlement. “What truth? What do you mean?”
More pieces of plaster detached themselves from the ceiling and landed with a chorus of dull thuds on the rug, the parody of a drum roll. “Lady Preston has stipulated that he will not inherit unless he marries.”
She absorbed this for a moment or two, blinking, then shook her head. “It does not matter, because I am not?—”
“It does matter. It matters very much.”
She sighed impatiently. “It doesnotmatter, because?—”
“He is using you, Elizabeth.” Why would she not listen to him? “He did not propose because he loves you. He can never love you.”
Her mouth fell open. “Thank you for your faith in me! At least he does not despise my family!”
