“I had not the smallest idea you felt anything at all for me.”
He forced himself to meet her eyes, and was heartened to see that, at least, she was not glaring. “Again, I beg forgiveness. Bingley says that I treat others with dismissive conceit in order to disguise my fear of taking risks—especially risks involving beautiful women.”
At this, she smiled up at him. “I think you may tell Mr Bingley that your days of avoiding risk are long past.”
He returned her smile and her cheeks pinkened. It gave him a sliver of hope.
“I know I have not behaved in any way that might produce your admiration. I am certain my contemptible conduct uponthe occasion of our first meeting left you no good impression of me, and I afterwards failed, not only to apologise, but?—”
Darcy scrubbed his hand through his damp hair, which rain had twisted into hated curls. How to explain? What to explain?
“I have allowed Wickham unfettered access to you and your neighbours, without providing any of the many reasons proving he is an unprincipled scoundrel.”
She gasped a little. He soldiered on; he might as well get this all out of the way—all the things he ought to have said, ought to have done.
“I am sure he has done his best to ruin whatever little approbation I might have retained. I promise, however, that I can provide sufficient proof of his deceitfulness. If you never like or trust me, I would not have you fooled by him.”
It was her turn to stutter. “I—I would prefer to draw my own conclusions, I think.” All her pretty blushes had faded now.
Darcy leant back against the bench, looking at the sky instead of the woman he loved, unable to bear seeing her disappointment.
“He was for many years my good friend, my comrade in arms, so to speak. His father held management of Pemberley, and was equally close to my good father. It took me far too long to realise that the friendship was one-sided. He required my reputation and my father’s, my money, and little else. His uses for those, however, were many; his ability to explain away poor decision and blackhearted motive, legendary. The last thing I wish to do is provide particulars, for the more I do, the greater I find my own culpability. Why did I cover those debts, pay those women’s families, without explaining to my father and his that his behaviour was beyond the pale? I distanced myself from him, but preserved his ability to retain their influence.”
“This is horrible,” she said, shaking her head.
Did she refer to Wickham, or his own negligence? Or both? Did she believe him at all? He had hardly demonstrated trustworthiness. He must provide more details, solid facts, not simply vague allusions.
“Yes. In his will, my father left a thousand pounds to him, but also the promise of a living, should he take orders.”
“Yes—he has spoken of what is owed him.”
“What is owed him?” He gave a humourless chuckle. “Nothing at all. He did not want it. He was paid three thousand for his surrender of the benefice.”
“So much,” she said in almost a whisper.
“Yes. That was well before he tried to elope with my fifteen-year-old sister.”
“He did what?” Her dark eyes were huge with shock and dismay.
He finally looked at her, sadness filling him. She, too, had young, silly sisters. Although they had no enticement of a large settlement, as Georgiana did, perhaps it only made him more dangerous.
“I am sorry, so very sorry, that I did not explain sooner.”
“I can understand why you did not,” she replied. “I am uncertain whether I would ever have been so honest as you have been with me.”
“I have no doubt of your secrecy on this matter.”
They sat together in the quiet. He could think of nothing to add, and wondered if there was any hope left for him. She was the first to break the silence.
“Mr Darcy, a few days ago, my sister received a letter from Miss Bingley. In it, she claims that Mr Bingley will not return to Netherfield this winter, and intimated that he would, instead, be pursuing an alliance with your sister.”
He raised a brow in surprise; he had not known that Miss Bingley had perceived his future hopes for Georgiana. Still, itseemed very unlikely that Bingley would care to wait several years for his sister to mature, and he could admit that Georgiana had never shown the slightest interest in him. Besides, Georgiana was in no condition, at present, to think of marriage to anyone, whilst Bingley appeared to be ready for commitment. With a little regret, he gave up the idea of the match forever. In this he could at least relieve Elizabeth, if relief she required.
“Bingley has no interest in my sister, nor she in him.” He hesitated. “Could it be that Miss Bennet has deeper feelings for him than that of an acquaintance?”
She looked at him in some disbelief. “Could you not tell that she does? I thought it obvious that her heart is engaged.”
“If you say it is so, it must be. I could not see it, but then, Bingley has recently called my powers of perception into dispute. I shall write him, and admit that he was right and I was wrong. It is my guess that he shall return to Netherfield immediately upon receiving word.”
