“Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help feeling an interest in him?”
“His misfortunes! Yes, his misfortunes have been great, indeed!” Jealousy, thick, ugly and venomous shot through him. “Let me give you one piece of advice, to take or discard at your leisure. Do not ever payhimsuch attentions as you so generously bequeathed me, lest you find yourself bearing the consequences of it alone—he would never do the honourable thing, even did you hold a pistol to his head!”
“And you call yourself honourable?” she asked, her voice rising, her eyes narrowing.
“Yes, I do,” he said, struggling to put just the right insouciance into his tone, so that she might not know how much the words he uttered now meant to him. “I have been contemplating offering you marriage, after all, for the sake of a few careless kisses.”
She sat up straighter, and her eyes sparked with fury. “Well, let me ease your sanctimonious conscience,” she all but hissed in fuming contempt. “I would not marry you if you were the last man in England! I had to bedruggedin order to accept your attentions! May your conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others rise up to choke you!”
Her words sliced through him, inflicting pain with every syllable. In the distress of it, his dignity, his very sense of self rebelled; how dare she, possessing near relations of such tremendous inferiority as to be nearly unmentionable, pretend that his attentions meantnothing?
“Oh, it will not, formypride is under perfect regulation. Of what haveyouto be critical? If you are in the mood for meting out judgment, why not complain of the total want of propriety possessed by your younger sisters? They certainly could use a lesson or two upon sobriety.”
She flushed but did not remain silent. “My sisters are none of your concern!”
Again, a part of his mind began flailing, cautioning him to cease and desist. Unfortunately, the wild way he wanted her had not diminished; her now obvious disdain only drove him further into a despairing sort of rage. He managed a sneer.
“Miss Lydia, Miss Catherine, Miss Mary, yes—their behaviour is beneath my notice. Your eldest, however, has attracted the attention of my dearest friend. With unscrupulous apathy, she has allowed your manipulative mother to move him as a pawn in her scheming. I bow to her mastery. If it is Wickham you wish to ensnare, I highly recommend your sister’s technique—Miss Bennet pretends to desire nothing of her victim, an appealing indifference he would find irresistible. If lessons are to be taught, perhaps she ought to dispense them. You might find her sort of Machiavellian purity to be rather instructive.”
Her jaw dropped. Suddenly, to his amazement, once more she dove for the door of the carriage.
Outrage, pure and simple, filled him as he grabbed her to keep her from throwing herself out of it, while she struggled violently against his hold. “What iswrongwith you? This carriage is moving! Would you bash your head against the pavement in defence of your absent lover?”
As if in answer to his question, she suddenly stilled. For a moment, she simply looked at him. Carefully she straightened; somehow, during their struggle, she had become perched upon his knees, his hands clutching her shoulders. Her chin lifted.
“Unhand me,” she commanded, her voice low and firm. “You need not worry that I shall risk so much as a scrape, much less my head, overanyman.” Tears glistened in her eyes, but somehow he knew that she would never allow them to fall. Not before him.
His anger deflated, his rage defeated. What he wanted to do was enfold her in his arms. He wanted to beg her forgiveness with every fibre of his being. The steely expression upon her face told him his desires were useless. Practically one finger at a time, he forced himself to release his hold.
She lifted herself from his lap onto the seat opposite.
“You, sir, are an idiot,” she said.
“Yes,” he agreed, scrubbing his face with his hands.
Momentary surprise flashed across her features.
There must be an apology she would accept, and he needed to come up with it quickly. At least some of his history with Wickham had to be explained. He must make her understand, somehow, why the man was so vicious, so untrustworthy. Above all, he could not allow their brief association to end like this. As if she trulyhadcursed him, words rose up in a flood, choking him with their panicked incoherence.
And then as he watched, her eyes fluttered shut and she pitched forward, collapsing in a graceful heap at his feet.
CHAPTER 6
Elizabeth woke to darkness. Disoriented, confused, she sat up quickly and immediately regretted it, rather more gently easing herself back down upon the pillows and shutting her eyes again. Her head pounded with the rhythm of her heartbeat, drumming pain into her body. Was she at home, back to Longbourn?
And why had she wondered if she werebackto Longbourn? Had she left? Where to? How long had she been gone? Why? For some unknown reason, she felt panic at the question and forcibly quelled the line of examination.
It does not matter at this moment, she told herself.All that is required at present is one breath in, one breath out. In. Out. When she felt sufficiently calm, she carefully opened her eyes.
The darkness, she saw, was not absolute. A screen had been carefully positioned by the fireplace to prevent the light from shining directly on her, but the fire was built upenough for the glow to be visible. The air was warm. Cautiously, she smoothed her hands across the linens surrounding her; they were fine ones. She lay upon the softest of mattresses, perhaps more than one. Gingerly, she turned her head to try and take note of her surroundings.
She was not alone. A young woman, probably a servant, sat on a chair by her bedside, chin upon her chest, dozing. On a bedside table, a pitcher was near at hand; at the sight of it, Elizabeth became aware of tremendous thirst. An inch at a time, she eased herself up, but some rustling of her covers must have alerted the sleeping servant.
“Oh, miss! Ye be awake!”
“Water, please,” Elizabeth tried to say, but her voice emerged as only a husky rasp. Nevertheless, the girl understood, and poured a cup.
Never had any water tasted so refreshing as this did. She drained the glass, and might have asked for more, had her need for information not been so acute.
