Darcy rarely danced with anyone but Elizabeth. Even with only one of their balls at Pemberley for reference, it was clear to me that he preferred not to dance with people he did not know. I knew he was offering largely for Elizabeth’s sake, familiarising himself with a family he had once judged. He did not need to know how much of a favour it was for me to see Kitty paired with my older brother rather than with a potential suitor.
Kitty gave me a panicked look, but I shook my head with a soft smile. She didn’t need saving from this. Darcy could be intimidating, but she had no reason to fear him. I liked the idea of him warming to her, accepting her. It allowed me to entertain the fantasy of one day telling him where my heart lay.
“He would kill me if he knew,” Kitty whispered in my ear.
“Best to find other topics of conversation, then,” I replied, giggling.
I had no idea what was coming over me.
Kitty’s fondness for dancing outweighed her apprehensions regarding my brother, and she took his proffered hand and let him lead her to join the assembling couples.
“Let’s find you somewhere to rest your leg,” Elizabeth said, holding out her arm.
She escorted me towards a row of chairs lined up along the wall, awaiting anyone who had worn ill-fitting shoes ordanced one too many Scotch reels. This early in the night, most of them were empty.
With Darcy preoccupied, there was no clear obstacle between me and any man wishing to ask me to dance. I saw one or two heads turn my way, working out who I was and how much money I represented to them. I thought back to Mr. Honeyfield and knew these men would similarly not be above the finding of loopholes and bending of rules.
If they asked me to dance, I could always refuse on the grounds of my injured leg, but I’d be expected to sit out for the rest of the night and I had hoped to dance with Kitty once more. She had offered, after all. As much as I wanted to sit and watch her dance, I’d rather be able to stand up with her again myself, after a little rest.
“Can we go outside?” I asked Elizabeth. “I’d like some air.”
Whether she saw my true intentions or not, she happily changed course, and we found our way outside the assembly hall, tucked around the side of the building.
“You make an attractive couple,” Elizabeth said, the context absent but still clear.
I couldn’t help my blush. “Thank you.”
“Is it something you feel ready to tell your brother about?”
“No!” I yelped, my immediate reaction one of panic. “He would never understand. And unless I marry, he is in charge of my life.”
“Youare in charge of your life,” Elizabeth insisted. “He would not punish you. He’d be mad to think I’d ever let him.”
She was unspecific, but I heard the potential scenarios allthe same. Sent to a hospital for the insane, kept locked up at Pemberley, denied access to my own money. Denied access to Kitty. I didn’t want to believe my brother capable of any of it, but I’d seen him send Frances away.
“Please, you cannot tell him,” I begged.
“Of course not,” she assured me, squeezing my arm. “Not without your consent. Now you wait here. I’ll liberate us some wine.”
She returned back inside with a wink, leaving me to my own spiralling thoughts. No matter how I imagined telling Darcy anything of how I felt for Kitty, I could not envisage a happy ending without feeling like I was lying to myself. The risk was too great.
Sighing, I leant back against the side of the building to take some weight off my knee. When I took in the figure walking towards me, I thought it a hallucination at first. Some kind of twisted mirage born from the speculation of a wandering mind.
George Wickham, in a scarlet jacket and freshly shined boots, was here in Meryton.
Chapter Fifteen
I’d never felt more betrayed than by the sudden inclination of my soles to root themselves to the ground. They left me standing there, as helpless as a startled hare on a hunt, and just as doomed.
“It has been too long, Miss Darcy,” he said, sweeping into an almost comically low bow.
It hadn’t been long enough. I could happily have gone the rest of my life without ever seeing him again. Despite my loathing, I found myself dipping into a curtsey. The courtesy was so well taught it had inscribed itself deeply under my skin.
“I thought Mrs. Wickham had come alone,” I said, fear bleeding into my voice.
Wickham smirked as my voice wavered. Silently, I prayed for Elizabeth to return quickly.
“She travelled ahead, but I could hardly leave her alone in such a situation. It seemed wrong to impose myself on the Bennets at such a time, so I thought it best to stay at an inn.”
