Chapter 13

Thirteen

Dear God, he wanted to kiss her! When her distress ebbed and she was enveloped in the sun's rays, he had fought the desperate urge. Never had Darcy felt such a tumult of emotion. Everything within him churned with astonishment. Her face, her eyes, her mouth, hold me in thrall. Elizabeth says she cannot know a man's heart, but my own is now a mystery.

A faint whinny interrupted his thoughts, causing him to rise and look about. He shook off his fog and wondered how far they had strolled on this winding path. When he returned his gaze to Elizabeth, her expression held a hint of mischief. It was the most becoming thing he had ever seen.

"I believe your horse is missing you, or perhaps is missing his breakfast."

So much he had disclosed to her, all of it unpleasant; there were a multitude of reasons for her to be angry and fearful, and yet still she could find humour and lighten his thoughts. He grinned at her and was rewarded with a smile in return.

"Um, yes. Or perhaps this." Darcy reached into his coat pocket and withdrew an apple. He delighted in Elizabeth's laughter and gave it to her. "Please, you must make my amends. I shall ensure he receives an extra serving of oats at the stables."

They began the walk—half a mile, he estimated—back to where he had left Flyer. Despite the levity that had begun it, both were quiet; Elizabeth seemed lost in thought, and Darcy, much as he was savouring his time in her company, recognised he must broach another delicate subject. While he had felt no desire to discuss Georgiana's presence at Ramsgate nor her role in Miss Bennet's acquaintance with Wickham, he was surprised neither had been mentioned by Elizabeth.

"There is one more thing," he began, in a quiet voice. "We have not spoken of the occurrence which brought us together and compelled my interest in these events. In Ramsgate, it was?—"

"Your sister who introduced Jane to Mr Wickham."

"You know? But you said nothing."

"Because your sister is blameless in the affair," Elizabeth assured him. "At one time, I wondered whether you had come to avenge her, angry that Jane had supplanted her in Mr Wickham's affections." She gave him a guilty look which he found adorable. "Jane is adamant that Miss Darcy was young, and all that was sweet and sincere. She regrets having lost her friendship."

"Georgiana is all that you say, and she liked your sister very much. Had Georgiana known of Wickham's true character—had I made it known to her—your sister would be…" Sighing heavily, he said, "She has known Wickham since she was a child. Wishing not to sully her pleasant memories of her childhood when he and my father were both in residence at Pemberley, I never told her of his real nature. At Ramsgate, she had no reason to distrust him and enjoyed his company there until he forced an introduction to your sister."

Something in his voice must have alarmed Elizabeth.

"Was it a fortuitous introduction? Did Jane's beauty distract him from your sister?"

"More likely from my sister's dowry and his chance to take revenge on me."

"Far greater than what Jane offers."

He nodded. "Thirty thousand pounds."

She gasped at the sum, which he knew was unimaginable to her, and her sweet countenance became deeply distressed. "This, then, makes his attentions to Jane truly nonsensical, for unless it is true love, what would compel such a man—indeed, any man—to shift his sights from a girl of huge fortune to one of meagre dowry? I promise you, Jane did nothing to deceive him with regard to her lack of fortune."

"Of course not. Your sister is all that you say, and perhaps, like my sister, modest and a bit reticent." Darcy pushed away a branch hanging overhead as if to push away the melancholy settling over his thoughts. "Georgiana is easily persuaded. She will regret any role she played in these events."

"It is not her fault," Elizabeth said quietly. "Your sister might have introduced them, but her presence mattered little. He would have encountered Jane regardless. I hope Miss Darcy was not injured by their abandonment. Jane wished to continue their acquaintance but had no means of finding your sister."

"She wrote to me, and when I saw Wickham's name in her letter, I went immediately to Ramsgate and removed her to London. She has a delicate temperament and—" Darcy stopped, hesitant to discuss Georgiana's lack of confidence.

"I know only of her goodness. How is she presently?"

He was astonished by Elizabeth's calm acceptance of the coincidence and her concerns for Georgiana. He would not tell her that his shy sister had felt her own awkwardness and ugliness in comparison to Jane Bennet, or that his reassurance that she was most fortunate, and would find a man who saw her worth, as all women deserve, made little impression on her.

"She is well. A new litter of kittens in my aunt's kitchen proved distracting enough for me to keep my word to Bingley and seek some renewal of my spirits in Hertfordshire."

She laughed ruefully. "Only for you to be dragged into the same sordid doings here."

"I should have gone to Ramsgate with her. Had I been there, I could have protected your sister."

Elizabeth's finger tapped his arm. "You went directly to Ramsgate when your sister needed you. Had I had such a chance… But what is past is past. What matters is that you protected your sister and now seek to protect mine."

Plucking a few stalks of grass, she began plaiting them together as they walked. "And if a happy ending is found, perhaps our sisters could be friends again, and I could meet your Miss Darcy as well."

He could not hide his grin.

After another half an hour loitering on the path in conversations that touched on Elizabeth's recent trip to the Lakes and Mr Darcy's pride in his home county of Derbyshire, it was time to part. She provided what little more information she could—that Mr Wickham spoke of a wish to see America and that the Norfolk estate came to him from some distant relation he had never met and was to be ready for Jane come the New Year—and returned to Longbourn, her mind full of reflections on Mr Darcy. Much as she was touched by his confessions of guilt over Jane's predicament and his avowals of assistance, her thoughts strayed to the warmth and benevolence she now saw in him. He was a good man—one quick to provide aid and advice, even if his pride had made it cumbersome and awkward to offer it. Her family had not made it easy for him; thanks to Mr Wickham, all of them—excepting Jane—had had their suspicions high and manners low when receiving him. And she had been the worst of all, knowing he could not be so bad and yet hesitant to approach him.

My scepticism has been overridden by something much more dangerous. I like him, perhaps far too much.

With her mind awhirl, Elizabeth was relieved it was still too early for her family to gather in the breakfast room. The morning post had arrived, providing her a needed distraction from her thoughts. None of the three letters in the salver was meant for her but recognising the looping hand of Mr Wickham on the letter addressed to Jane, she carried it up to her sister's room in hopes of a private conversation.

After a light knock, she entered to find Jane lacing her slippers. Her face fell when she saw the letter Elizabeth thrust at her. "Another?"

How odd! There was no joy, no pleasure in Jane's voice; she appeared distraught at the very sight of it. "Did you receive one yesterday?"

Nodding, Jane took the letter and opened a small box on her dressing table. She placed the letter inside.

Careful not to expose her own anticipation, Elizabeth said, "Perhaps Mr Wickham has completed his business and is writing to you of his success."

Jane, her back to her, only shook her head, prompting Elizabeth to step closer. Glancing down at the box, she saw at least ten letters were inside, and like today's missive, at least two were unopened.

"Jane?"

Her sister heaved a great sigh and turned round; her anguished expression bore all the signs of incipient tears. "Oh Lizzy, I am a terrible creature! Yesterday, I wrote to Mr Wickham and told him I wish to end our engagement."

"You…you did what? You broke it off?" Before the assembly? Elizabeth's shock overcame the thrill she felt. For Jane to act so boldly—again!

"Lizzy, do not be angry with me! I know Mr Wickham's feelings are genuine, but I recognise now what you have been asking…how well do I know him? Did I rush into my own feelings because his were so persistent?"

"And did you?"

Jane hung her head. "Yes, you were…you are correct. I made a horrible mistake. And worse than breaking Mr Wickham's heart is that I am a wanton, a terrible girl who falls in love too easily!"

"Jane, you are anything but wanton, terrible, or capricious." Elizabeth laid a hand on her sister's shoulder, hoping to calm her.

"I have been capricious, behaving as Papa might have expected of Lydia! I openly displayed my eagerness to dance with Mr Bingley, and even before the assembly, my feelings were confirmed," she cried. "I feel an ease in his company, a comfort in our conversation, that I have never felt with Mr Wickham. His attentions and compliments may have overwhelmed me at Ramsgate. Now my mind has clarity and I must break his heart."

Elizabeth stared in disbelief at the sister with whom she had shared secrets and ribbons since she could speak her first words. Jane, recognising the hastiness of her attachment, assumed she was cruel to break it off? She would save herself! Taking a breath, she sought to calm Jane and reached out to press her hand. But Jane was not yet done with her self-recrimination.

"I cannot marry one man when I care for another. Even if Mr Bingley does not return my feelings, it is wrong to proceed with an engagement to Mr Wickham." Jane wiped a tear from her cheek and swallowed. "I am fickle and cruel and have no wish to injure Mr Wickham, so I am attempting to do the correct thing and let him know before he makes further plans for us."

"And that is commendable?—"

"I know I am ruined and do not deserve to be wed to anyone, even Mr Bingley!" Jane fell onto her bed, weeping. "I shall not allow my own weakness to ruin your chances of matrimony. I shall move in with the Gardiners, or find work as a governess, and you all can say I am dead."

"Jane." Elizabeth sat beside her, caught between laughter and tears of relief. "I shall stand by you, no matter who is your husband, or if you become a spinster aunt teaching all your nieces and nephews to sing rhymes and stay out of the mud."

Sniffing, Jane looked up. Her flawless complexion was red and blotchy—evidence of her distress. "But Lizzy?—"

Jane is safe from Mr Wickham and Mr Darcy will not have to do anything at all.

Elizabeth gathered her sister in her arms. "This is for the best, truly it is. You must own your heart, much as it may, for a short time, hurt you and Mr Wickham."

"Oh Lizzy! Mr Wickham is so kind, and he will be deeply wounded! His letters are so-so…full with feeling. I cannot bear to open this letter! He would have written it before he received mine."

After everything Mr Darcy had said of him, Elizabeth could hardly feel sorrow for Mr Wickham and his flowery compliments. She welcomed her sister's decision. Jane was fortunate to make her escape from him—and to have done so without learning how terrible a man he was. How would he respond? How could he respond? And what did it mean for Jane? If not a dangerous man, he was prone to unpleasant behaviour.

Sighing, she pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and pressed it into Jane's hand. "Mr Wickham acted precipitously as well. He may not greet your words happily, but we must prepare for the more immediate repercussions here at Longbourn. Dry your eyes, put some cool water on your cheeks, and let us go and talk to Papa. Once he is over his shock and begins to tease you, we shall have breakfast and go for a walk to revive your spirits. If I must climb a tree to earn your laugh, I shall."