Page 71 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

“To whom?”

Bingley opened his mouth, then closed it.

Darcy returned the letter to the desk. Any public defense would enlarge the story and place Elizabeth at its center. Silence would leave Wickham’s version untouched. Neither course spared her.

“Has Miss Bennet heard it?” he asked.

“I do not know.”

“Caroline will.”

Bingley’s expression hardened. “She will not repeat it.”

Darcy hoped that was true.

The next afternoon proved the story had done more than furnish conversation. Darcy and Bingley entered Meryton on foot and found greetings that ended too soon. Men who had once ignored Darcy now judged him; women who had sought his notice turned toward one another after he passed.

Bingley noticed by the second shop.

“They believe it.”

“They prefer it.”

Near the assembly rooms, Mr. Allen stood outside the apothecary’s shop with a parcel under his arm. He greeted Bingley, then looked at Darcy with uncertainty.

“Mr. Darcy.”

“Mr. Allen.”

The parcel slipped. Darcy caught it before it struck the pavement and returned it.

Mr. Allen thanked him, though embarrassment colored the words. “My hands are unreliable.”

“Then someone should have tied the cord twice. Darcy examined the knot and secured it. “There.”

Mr. Allen studied him. “You have a practical turn.”

“When necessity allows.”

A smile touched the old man’s mouth. “Necessity allows more than pride admits.”

Bingley looked away. Darcy returned Mr. Allen’s gaze.

“That may be true.”

Mr. Allen nodded and continued down the street.

Elizabeth stood outside the milliner’s farther along the street.

Darcy saw that she had witnessed the exchange. For a moment neither moved. Then she crossed toward them.

“Mr. Bingley. Mr. Darcy.”

Bingley greeted her with relief and Darcy bowed.

Elizabeth shifted her gaze between them. “You heard the story.”

“Yes,” Darcy said.