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“Mr. Wickham, you know so very little about me. Although I am exceedingly honored by your generous and kind commendations, I do not know that I deserve them.”

“On the contrary, Miss Elizabeth, I believe I know you very well. You are charming, witty and oh so lovely.” Here, he took her hand in his, raised it to his lips, and bestowed a kiss.

Against her will, Elizabeth threw a glance in Mr. Darcy’s direction hoping that he had not observed the gentleman’s gesture. She really did feel some obligation to respect the way he felt about Wickham, even though she did not necessarily feel the same way. His good opinion meant a great deal to her.

To her utter dismay, Mr. Darcy did witness what had unfolded. Perhaps he had been studying the two of them for some time. Whatever was the situation, he made no attempt to mask his disappointment, choosing instead to express his displeasure by quitting the room and thereby ignoring the protests of Miss Bingley, with whom he had been standing.

The worse part was there was nothing to be done about it on Elizabeth’s part — not at that moment. How would it be for her to follow him? What would she say?

Perhaps I shall endeavor to speak with him alone, when I am certain we will not be interrupted, she silently pondered, pulling her hand away from Wickham’s.

Perhaps then, I will find the words to explain to a gentleman who is more obligated to my sister than he will ever be to me that I am in no danger of ever losing my heart to a man whom he so dislikes, even distrusts, because I have already lost my heart to another.

CHAPTER 19

PARTICULAR MOMENT

Darcy was so thoroughly disappointed watching Miss Elizabeth succumbing to George Wickham’s dastardly charms. He thought surely he knew the young woman better than that. Instead of storming out of the room so unceremoniously as he had, it would have been better simply to walk up to the two of them and request a private audience with her, but by what right could he do such a thing? He had no right to do such a thing as borrow the young woman away from the other gentleman at all. Perhaps if George Wickham had been speaking with Miss Bennet or even his cousin Anne, for that matter, interrupting George’s easy flirtation would have been the thing to do, but not Miss Elizabeth - not without appearing unjustifiably jealous.

Not that there would ever be a possibility of George Wickham behaving so familiarly with either Miss Bennet or Anne, Darcy supposed. In Miss Bennet’s case, his friend Charles rarely strayed from her side, which suited Darcy’s purposes quite well, for that meant the young woman, whom Darcy was beginning to think smiled much too much, was certain to be diverted. As for Anne, Lady Catherine would have George Wickham’s head if he even looked in the direction of her only daughter and the heir to Rosings. Like Darcy, her ladyship was quite attuned to George Wickham’s vile propensities. How she knew the things that she knew was anybody’s guess. Darcy only wished his father was privy to that same intelligence.

My father, Darcy considered with some degree of sadness. He grows weaker each day. If he does not openly confess what is about to befall him to me soon, I shall take it upon myself to broach the subject. He needs to know that I will be here for him, ready, willing, and able to do his bidding. As much as Darcy hated that George Wickham was there at Pemberley, for his father’s sake if for nothing else, there was nowhere else that Darcy wished for Wickham to be.

Regardless of my own view of the matter, my father loves Wickham very much. Certainly it must mean something to him to have his godson here until the very last.

If only Miss Elizabeth were not so impressed with Wickham, I would have no cause at all to feel discontented about his presence.

Having sufficiently calmed himself to once again assume his place among polite society, Darcy straightened his cravat, gave his waistcoat a sharp tug, and turned to go back inside.

How amazed he was to see Miss Elizabeth Bennet standing on the opposite side of the balcony. How long has she been standing there? Is it possible that she and Wickham have made a secret pact to meet each other alone? Is she even aware that I am here?

Hidden by the shadows, he supposed it was entirely possible that the young lady knew nothing of his also being outside on the balcony at that particular moment.

I must make my presence known to her.

Not willing to waste a moment in further contemplation of what he would say, Darcy walked closer to where she stood looking up at the night’s clear sky.

What a vision. That thought that simply would not go away reclaimed his mind.

How would it be if she were mine?

Flashes of the dream he had just the night before of holding her in his arms would not be repressed. What a danger she was to his manly sensibilities as his thoughts that no gentleman ought to entertain of a proper young lady threatened to overtake his command of his own body.

Against his will, he inhaled and then exhaled deeply, catching the young woman completely off guard and thereby startling her.

Elizabeth spun round. “Mr. Darcy,” she exclaimed with some energy, placing her hand to her bosom.

“Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, for interrupting your solace. Are you—are you expecting someone?” he asked tentatively.

She smiled a bit nervously. “No, sir. I was simply in need of a breath of fresh air. When I could, I made my escape, undetected.”

“Are you quite certain you were not observed? I saw you earlier with George Wickham. I will not be surprised if he soon misses your company and decides to come in search of you.”

“Mr. Darcy,” she said, “if I did not know you so well as I do, I would say you seem a bit jealous. However, I do know you - at least I think I do, and for that reason, I feel I owe you some explanation of what transpired in the drawing room earlier.”

Darcy held up his hand. “I assure you that no explanation is needed, for I know George Wickham well enough to know precisely what transpired.”

“Oh, but you do not know me, sir, for if you did you would know that I would never pay so little heed to your opinion of the gentleman and forget what I am about. Trust me, sir, I am in no danger from Mr. Wickham.”