“I shall.”
There seemed little more to say.
Darcy escorted her the remaining distance to the door, conscious as they approached the house that the interview had altered more than he had intended. He had come resolved to act only from duty and to leave Hertfordshire with the matter settled. Yet the intelligence with which Elizabeth had considered his explanation and the generosity withwhich she had received so delicate a confidence had affected him more strongly than he cared to admit.
As Elizabeth reached for the door, he said quietly, “Thank you for hearing me.”
She turned back briefly. With a composure that now seemed warmer than before, Elizabeth said, “Thank you for trusting me.”
Darcy watched her reenter the house before turning away.
The conversation had accomplished what necessity required. Wickham’s designs would find no easy encouragement there. Yet as Darcy walked back toward the road, he could not escape the conviction that he had left Longbourn more deeply engaged in Elizabeth Bennet’s welfare than prudence would ever advise.
And that, he suspected, would prove far more difficult to escape than any scheme George Wickham might pursue.
Chapter 7
Elizabeth closed the door of her chamber behind her and remained standing for a moment, half-wondering whether she had truly returned to the same house she had left only a short time before. The quiet of the room felt strange after the intensity of the conversation she had just endured, and the familiar arrangement of the furniture offered little comfort to a mind that refused to grow calm.
She removed her gloves slowly and laid them on the small table near the door before crossing the room toward the window. The afternoon light had grown pale and thin, and the winter garden beyond the glass appeared entirely still. From that height, she could see the gravel walk where she had only recently walked beside Mr Darcy. The path now lay empty.
Elizabeth rested one hand lightly against the window frame while she allowed herself at last to consider the conversation and its full consequences.
What Mr Darcy had told her could not easily be dismissed.
At first she had listened with a degree of reluctance which she had not attempted to conceal. Indeed, she had been fully prepared to hear nothing more than another instance of his well-known dislike of Mr Wickham. That Mr Darcy’s dislike might be justified had not crossed her mind. Mr Wickham’s manners had recommended him strongly to everyone in the neighbourhood, and Elizabeth herself had never doubted the sincerity with which he spoke of his past misfortunes.
Yet the account Mr Darcy had given could not be a simple effort to injure a rival. Little as she liked Mr Darcy, she had always thought him an honest man. Proud, harsh, and superior, yes, but honest. She could not imagine him inventing such a lie.
Most especially, there was the matter of Miss Darcy’s narrow escape.
Elizabeth turned from the window and moved slowly toward the chair beside the writing desk, seating herself with her hands folded quietly in her lap.
She could not imagine any circumstance in which a brother would invent such a history concerning a sister whose reputation he was plainly so anxious to preserve. The delicacy of the situation had been evident in every word Mr Darcy spoke.Even while explaining Wickham’s conduct, he had seemed less eager to condemn the man than anxious to prevent further harm.
The recollection troubled her more than she wished to admit.
Elizabeth had always considered herself an excellent judge of character, and Mr Wickham’s openness had made a strong impression on her from the beginning. His account of his disappointments had appeared reasonable. His resentment had been expressed with moderation. Everything in his manner had suggested honesty.
And yet Mr Darcy had spoken with a seriousness, a sincerity she could not dismiss.
Elizabeth rose from her chair and walked slowly across the room, her thoughts gaining urgency as she reflected on the implications of what she had heard.
If Mr Wickham had truly attempted to persuade Miss Darcy to elope with him for the sake of her fortune, his conduct could not be regarded with anything approaching indulgence. She was scarcely more than a girl; the blame must be entirely his.
Nor was it difficult to understand the strength of Mr Darcy’s resentment. Elizabeth paused near the hearth and folded her arms loosely as she considered what must now be done.
The danger did not lie merely in her own acquaintance with Mr Wickham. The militia remained in the neighbourhood, and Lydia and Kitty had already shown themselves far too eager to seek the company of its officers. It required very little imagination to foresee how easily an unscrupulous man might take advantage of such circumstances.
Mr Darcy had chosen to confide in her rather than speak to her father.
At first, the choice had surprised her. Perhaps she had even felt a momentary irritation that he should presume to judge Mr Bennet’s attentiveness to his daughters. Yet the explanation he had offered could not be dismissed lightly. He trusted her discretion. He believed she would understand the delicacy of the situation.
Elizabeth drew a steady breath. Mr Darcy’s judgment of her father was one thing; her own was another. Something must be done, and her father was the logical choice to do it. Of course, Mr Bennet could not be told everything. Some of what Mr Darcy had revealed was for her ears alone. But her father loved her; he would listen to her even without knowing the extent of the danger.
She moved toward the small desk near the window and rested her hand on its polished surface as her thoughts settled into a clearer resolution. Whatever his habitual indifference to minor concerns, her father would not knowingly exposehis daughters to danger. If she explained the matter calmly and with proper restraint, leaving aside any mention of Miss Darcy’s name, he must surely see the necessity of acting.
At the very least, he could make some quiet inquiries regarding Mr Wickham’s conduct. Even a small investigation among his acquaintances could reveal whether Wickham had contracted debts or behaved improperly elsewhere.
