Page 73 of Fitzwilliam Darcy, Exile

Elizabeth shook her head. “I believe happiness must be built on something that cannot be bought. And I do not believe you and I could build it. I told you this when you proposed marriage to me at Longbourn.”

His smile thinned. He stepped closer and, with a trembling hand, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She flinched but did not yield. “You are overwhelmed,” he said, his voice dropping to an urgency that contradicted the casual gesture entirely. “You will think more clearly in the morning. We will speak again then.”

“We will not,” Elizabeth said. “Mr. Wickham, I have no intention of marrying you. I would be obliged to you if you would hear that answer and consider it final.” He was very still for a moment. “Pray do not press me further on the matter. My answer will not change.” She took a step toward Charlotte.

Mr. Wickham reached out and held her arm, halting her motion. “Your father's situation is not as settled as you imagine. The damage to your family’s reputation is done. And a gentleman's daughter with a disgraced father and four unmarried sisters is not, I think, in a position to be refusing offers.” His threat was so plainly stated that it almost did not register as one.

Elizabeth met his gaze with a wilting intensity, waiting until he removed his hand until she spoke. “I would rather face whatever comes next on my own terms than bind myself to a man I can neither love nor respect. I will never marry you, Mr. Wickham, not if you were the last man on earth.”

“You will regret this.”

“Perhaps. Nonetheless, I stand by it.” She held his gaze for one long, steady moment. “Good night.” She turned and walked to Charlotte, looped her arm through hers, and started up the stairs.

“If you would loosen your grip on my arm,” Charlotte said presently, “I would applaud your firmness.”

Elizabeth’s hands shook. She needed distance. Space to breathe. She climbed the stairs one at a time, telling herself that she must only endure one more night of this agony. She did not know what tomorrow would bring, but she was decided, more than ever before, to choose freedom.

CHAPTER 40

The knock at Darcy's door was more of a formality than a request. Richard barged inside before the echo faded, stopping short when he saw Darcy sitting by the fire. “Robbie? Or should I call you Darcy now? I hardly recognize you without all that hair.” Darcy rubbed his smooth chin. He had been so long with a beard that it felt strange to have it gone.

With his usual familiar ease, Richard dropped into the chair across from him. “I had begun to fear you had decided that Pemberley was not worth your trouble and had gone back to your turquoise water and white sand beaches.”

“And miss seeing you again?” Darcy teased.

Richard chuckled but then leaned forward, forearms on his knees, his smile gone. “We must speak about tomorrow. Wickham has been attached to Miss Bennet's side like a barnacle all evening. Whether he thinks that she is his property or he believes that she requires his protection, I cannot say, but in every way his manners are possessive.”

Darcy's jaw tightened. “She will rebel against such treatment. Has he no discernment?”

“He has discernment enough to know that his time is running out. Desperation dims his charm.” Richard paused. “Miss Lucas has been exemplary. She has scarcely left Miss Bennet's side. I confess I did not know what to make of her at first, but she is formidable in the quietest possible way.” There was admiration in his cousin’s tone, and Darcy intended to tease Richard about it later.

“How is Wickham received by the rest of the family?”

Richard’s admiration quickly soured. “I am loath to report that not one person here has threatened to run him through, though Lady Catherine has come close.”

“You might have made the threat yourself.”

“Without you here to enjoy the show? I am not so cruel.” He looked Darcy over from head to toe. “Especially after the apparent ordeal you went through to get here. You look like you need a few good meals and a week of sleep.”

Darcy smiled. God, it was good to see Richard again. “I appreciate your consideration. It was certainly an adventure.”

“What happened? I expected you to arrive with the others, not allow Wickham any advantage.”

Richard did not know of Darcy’s dismissal from Longbourn. There had been no time to pen a letter, nor would Richard have received it before he left town for Pemberley. “Circumstances prevented me from traveling with the Bennets. What about Wickham? He has not met with success?” He knew the answer, or rather, he thought he did. Hoped he did.

“Not for one moment. Miss Elizabeth did not take well to his proprietary manners, and as desperate as he is to ruin your inheritance and seize what is yours, he pushed his suit too aggressively. Her maid told my batman that Miss Elizabeth refused him vehemently.”

Music to Darcy’s ears. “Vehemently?”

“That was the exact word the maid used. Miss Elizabeth said she would not marry Wickham if he were the last man in the world. And this she heard directly from Miss Lucas, who does not seem like a lady given to exaggeration.”

Relief loosened the knot Darcy had carried since the Meryton road. He is closing a door, he had told Richard about Wickham—and Elizabeth had reached it first and bolted it herself. A cheerful chorus erupted in Darcy’s mind, and it was only his certainty that Richard would never let him forget it that kept him from leaping from his chair to exclaim his joy aloud. “Remind me to send the Lucases a fruit basket full of the choicest selection from the orangery.”

Richard grinned. “I would be honored to deliver it to them myself.”

“How did the family receive Elizabeth?”

Richard heaved a deep breath. “Precisely as you would suppose. If Miss Elizabeth ever doubted how you could stay away from your family for so long, I believe they provided her with a satisfying answer.”