“You cannot?” Darcy asked. “The only thing larger than Wickham’s gambling debts is his cowardice.”
The sound of the men pacing for the next quarter of an hour was only matched by the woodland animals waking.
“If he does not arrive in the next few minutes—”
“I will have to seek my recompense in some other way.”
Alas, the sound of a carriage could be heard on the road. Darcy looked up and grimaced. When the equipage stopped not far from him, and Wickham alighted, Bingley stepped forward.
“You’re late. As Mr. Fitz––Darcy’s second, it is my duty to ask if you wish to apologize for the slight given to which the challenge has been extended.”
Wickhamsnorted. “I do not.”
“Then it befits me to remind you what is at stake. Pistols were chosen. With the assistance of your second, Mr. Gafton, I will load the pistols so the duel can commence.”
“Agreed,” Wickham said. He nodded at Gafton to join Bingley.
“Are you certain you want to go through with this,Fitzroy?”
Darcy ignored Wickham.
“The rules of the duel are as follows,” Bingley said. “You will each get one shot. Whoever draws first blood is the victor. If neither draws blood, or if both do, it is a draw, and your honor has been avenged. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” Darcy said.
Wickham shrugged. “Of course.”
Bingley looked at both men. “Let us begin.”
Elizabeth did not know what woke her. She had finally fallen into a restless sleep but had planned to meet Darcy before he left again to wish him well.
How silly he must think I am. But I do not trust Wickham. He is bent on destroying all that is good and makes no apologies for his behavior. His privilege disgusts me.
She made it down the stairs in time to see Wickham’s carriage roll past on the way to the duel. She said a silent prayer and, as she walked past the entryway, she noticed a letter addressed to her in William’s hand. Picking it up, she was shocked when the door flung open, and Anne de Bourgh breathlessly rushed into the room for the second time since the night before.
“Miss Bennet. We must go to Old Rosings. Wickham is going to kill Darcy.”
Elizabeth clutched the unread letter to her chest. “What do you mean? William has just as good a chance as Wickham, and they are only to take one shot. He swore he would come away unharmed.”
Grabbing a wrap, Miss de Bourgh said, “My abigail overheard that Wickham is paying a stable hand at Lord Gafton’s estate to hide in the woods and shoot Darcy.”
“What?”
“Yes! With Darcy gone, Georgiana is once again the only heir, and it will all belong to Wickham. His avarice will stop at nothing!”
Her knees almost buckled as she leaned against the chair. “We must go at once.” Shoving his letter in her pocket and wrapping her shawl around her, Elizabeth rushed outside. “We do not have time to saddle the horses.”
“We must go through the woods. I know a shortcut”—and the women ran out of the door.
The pistols had been inspected by both Bingley and Lord Gafton before the men agreed they were ready.
“Now, Wickham,” Bingley said. “This is your final opportunity to apologize and admit your wrongdoing.”
“I did nothing wrong. The truth is often unpleasant.” He sneered at Darcy, who clenched his jaw, attempting to not allow Wickham to unnerve him. “When this is over, I will not have too difficult a time convincing Miss Bennet to become my mistress. My wife cannot keep up with my needs.” Wickham turned to Bingley. “Nor could yours or your sister, for that matter. But at leastsheleft for America. One less crying debutanteto concern myself with.”
“Easy, Bingley,” Darcy said, placing his hand on his friend’s arm. “I will avenge us both.”
“And if you do not, I will,” Bingley said through gritted teeth.
