“In Miss Bingley’s letter,” Elizabeth continued, “she did not merely say that you were all leaving Netherfield.”
Darcy waited.
“She also suggested that Mr. Bingley’s return to London was very agreeable to him – because his family expected him soon to form an attachment elsewhere.”
Darcy’s expression darkened slightly. “Elsewhere?”
Elizabeth met his gaze steadily. “With your sister.”
For a moment he said nothing.
Elizabeth continued quietly. “Miss Bingley seemed very certain that such a union was anticipated by the whole family.”
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “I can assure you, Miss Elizabeth, that no such expectation exists. She is not even out.”
His voice remained calm, but there was a sharpness in it that had not been present before.
“My sister has never encouraged Mr. Bingley in that manner, nor has he ever given the smallest indication of such an intention. We would not be now friends if he had. She is sixteen.”
Elizabeth studied his expression carefully. “Oh,” she nodded, “I suspected as much,” she said. “But I thought it right that you should know what my sister was led to believe.”
Darcy’s displeasure was now impossible to conceal. “Miss Bingley appears to have taken very considerable liberties with the truth.”
Elizabeth did not answer. But she could not help observing that Mr. Darcy’s composure, though still outwardly controlled, had been visibly shaken. “You are displeased,” she said.
Darcy’s expression grew darker. “I do not like to see my sister’s name used in such a manner,” Darcy replied shortly. After a brief pause, he added, “Nor Miss Bennet made unhappy by it.”
Chapter 16
A Deliberate Design
As they sat down again and Darcy took a biscuit onto a small plate, Jane turned slightly toward her sister.
“Lizzy,” she said softly, “did you tell Mr. Darcy about Mr. Wickham?”
Elizabeth looked at her quickly.
Jane made a slight, discreet motion toward the window.
Darcy’s attention sharpened immediately. He put down the plate.
Elizabeth hesitated. “I had not intended to trouble Mr. Darcy with the matter.”
Jane regarded her with mild surprise. “I thought perhaps he ought to know.”
“Yes,” Darcy said quietly. “I think I ought.”
Elizabeth sighed softly. “Very well.”
She turned toward him. “Yesterday, while we were in Meryton, we met Mr. Wickham with Mr. Denny and another officer. At first, nothing was remarkable. He addressed us with his usual ease, and Lydia, of course, was eager for the officers to walk with us.”
Darcy regarded her without answering.
But Elizabeth could see that all his attention was fixed upon her now. “I had already made it plain to Mr. Wickham,” she continued, “that I did not wish for any further intimacy between us, nor for any renewal of the confidence I had once placed in him. He seemed disposed to treat the whole matter lightly. He actually thought we could still be friends.”
Jane added gently, “Until Lydia wished them to escort us.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I refused it. Lydia did not immediately understand why, so I took her a little aside and reminded her that Papa had already thought Mr. Wickham’s attentions improper.”
