Page 51 of Elizabeth Bennet Says Yes to Mr. Darcy

I had never invited a man to dance. Several nearby ladies leaned toward one another. My mother pressed a hand to her chest in delight. Wickham, whom I had spotted near the officers, stopped smiling.

When the music began, Darcy and I took our places among the couples.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he murmured.

“You promised to let me act.”

“I will keep my word, even when your actions threaten my self-control.”

“Is dancing with me such an ordeal?”

“Not the kind you imagine.”

His gaze dropped to my waist as the figure brought us closer. The memory of the pavilion swept through me.

We separated, then found each other again.

“Wickham is here,” I said.

Darcy stiffened.

“I saw him.”

“Don’t speak to him.”

“I had no intention of it.”

“I will speak to him.”

“Elizabeth…”

“You promised.”

His jaw tightened.

“I detest this promise.”

“That’s why it’s useful to you.”

After the dance, I rejoined Jane. Eyes followed me. Mrs. Long questioned me with what she considered subtlety about Mr. Darcy’s generosity toward his friends. I replied that he was most remarkable for refusing to take credit for his good deeds. The phrase was being repeated before I had finished the next sentence.

Wickham approached me near the refreshment table.

“Miss Elizabeth. I am pleased to see that certain stories have not shaken your trust.”

“What stories, Mr. Wickham? The ones you tell, or the ones you leave out?”

His smile faltered.

“I would not wish to see you bound by gratitude to a man who knows how to use his fortune.”

“Your concern touches me all the more since you yourself have considerable experience using Mr. Darcy’s fortune.”

He paled.

“I fear you have heard his version.”

“On the contrary—I have discovered yours.”