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“Need I remind you that I had every right to the thousand pounds I received?”

“Again, I beg you not to remind me. A better question is why would I dream of paying you for information on someone so wholly unconnected to me as Miss Bingley?”

Wickham shrugged. “It is simple. What I have to say not only pertains to Caroline Bingley. It also has to do with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

Darcy felt his color rising. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss Elizabeth with George Wickham, whose false accusations he had attributed as being the means of turning her against him. His curiosity, however, would not be repressed. “What is your price?”

“I do not ask for much—just enough to cover my expenses for the next year or so while I complete my law studies.”

Darcy shook his head. There he goes again rambling on about studying the law. I know better.

“Do not be absurd. What might you possibly have to say that would warrant such an absorbent amount?” Placing both hands on the desk and leaning forward, he said, “I shall give you one hundred pounds and not a shilling more. Regardless of what you have to say, it is a small price to pay to have you take a swift leave of Pemberley.”

“Double your offer and I shall tell you everything.”

“My original offer is my final offer. I advise you to take it,” said Darcy as he proceeded to prepare the bank draft. Darcy knew his childhood friend too well to suppose he would walk away from a bona fide offer. Besides, who is to say that Wickham is in possession of intelligence that might be of use to me?

Darcy held up the bank draft for Wickham’s inspection. When the latter reached out his hand to accept it, Darcy drew back his own hand. “Start talking,” he demanded.

Start talking indeed. Wickham took the chair opposite Darcy’s large mahogany desk. Likewise, Darcy took his own seat and listened as Wickham rehashed the details of Caroline Bingley’s scheme.

More than once, Darcy wanted to reach across the desk and wipe the smirk off the gentleman’s face with his fist, but each time he thought better of it.

Wickham is just being himself, after all. A greedy opportunist who values money above all else, and one who is totally devoid of human sensibilities. No—Caroline Bingley is the true culprit. She is the person who deserves the greater share of my ire.

That she had been lurking around unseen and listening to what Darcy had believed were private conversations with Elizabeth, according to Wickham's testimony, was an abhorrence. This woman who had always been a welcomed guest in his home. Never again.

I have long known the lady could be jealous and spiteful, but to have gone to such lengths to remove Miss Elizabeth from Pemberley and ultimately from me. How could she possibly believe she would accomplish such a despicable feat with impunity, especially with an accomplice the likes of George Wickham?

By now, Darcy was hardly attending a word Wickham had to say. His mind was busily engaged thinking of but one person: Elizabeth. She had left Pemberley with the mistaken impression that he did not care for her. He had allowed her to leave thinking he wanted her gone.

He thought of how it would be if he were away from Pemberley and his obligations as its new master at such a time.

What other choice is there? I must go to her.

I must do everything in my power to clear up this misunderstanding. I pray I am not too late.

CHAPTER 31

IMMINENT GUEST

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire

Happy was the day that Mrs. Fanny Bennet welcomed her eldest daughter, Jane, and her son-in-law to Longbourn. Happier still, had been the news that her son-in-law had let the neighboring estate: Netherfield Park. In her estimation, Jane’s hasty marriage to Mr. Bingley was better than the prospect of Jane marrying Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Pemberley’s new master. Far better to have a daughter so well settled as well as in such convenient proximity. Indeed, she was certain to be the envy of all her neighbors and friends who would likely never set foot in Derbyshire.

Hardly a day had passed by that she did not call on her eldest daughter, along with her single daughters. Her second eldest, Elizabeth, practically lived at Netherfield for all intents and purposes. The scheme was in keeping with Elizabeth’s original promise to her sister to come and live with her once she was married. The only difference was that Jane had settled much closer to Longbourn than anyone had intended. That, and she had married Mr. Bingley instead of Mr. Darcy.

On one particular day, Jane found Elizabeth in the garden. “These flowers are beautiful,” she said, in reference to the colorful bouquet Elizabeth had gathered.

“Indeed. I was admiring them from my apartment window, and I thought I might bring some of outdoors’ beauty inside.”

“I am certain Mrs. Kyle would have arranged a proper bouquet for you,” Jane replied, referring to the housekeeper.

“No doubt, but I am sure I shall enjoy them more knowing the arrangement is the fruit of my own labor.”

“I recall gathering flowers was always one of your favorite pastimes.”

“One of yours too, if I recall correctly, when we resided at Longbourn.”