Thirteen
Darcy
The idea of leavingNetherfield had grown more tempting by the minute. After that disaster in Meryton—the awkward encounter with Wickham, the townspeople staring like I’d just declared myself the local madman—I had little reason to stay.
I’d already packed half my belongings, my hand lingering over the last few cravats to fold. London beckoned like a warm hearth on a cold night. At least there, I could put some distance between myself and Wickham, not to mention the other problem. Not Ewan… I already knew that running back to London would avail me nothing there.
But I could get away from Elizabeth Bennet.
A ball. Of all the things Bingley could have arranged, this was the worst. The prospect of spending an entire evening in a crowded room, trying to pretend that everything was normal while a Scottish ghost floated around causing chaos? It was enough to make my stomach churn.
So, I had no intention of lingering around, waiting for the worst. I could easily come up with an excuse—urgent business, an estate matter, or a sudden family obligation. Anything to avoid the inevitable embarrassment that awaited me. Ewan would undoubtedly find some way to humiliate me in front of everyone, and frankly, I’d had enough public scrutiny to last a lifetime.
I even started framing my excuse to Bingley.My sister Georgiana is missing my company—it is with utmost regret that I must...
But no sooner had the words formed than I heard a familiar noise. The window creaked open behind me, followed by the unmistakable sound of muddy boots hitting the floor.
“Goin’ somewhere, lad?” Ewan’s voice came from the direction of my bed, sounding far too relaxed for decent conversation.
I turned, and there he was—a second ago, he’d been crawling in through the window, and there was a muddy path to prove it. But in the blink of an eye, he was sprawled across my bed, boots off, claret in hand, his feet—bare feet, which had no business being in my room—propped up on one of my pillows. The scent of stale ale and mischief clung to him like a second skin.
“I’m leaving,” I spat. “Going back to London.”
“London, eh?” He took a swig from his cup. “Aye, I always wondered if that London was as grand as folk say. Leavin' yer lass behind, are ye? That's brave, lad. Admirable, truly.”
I gritted my teeth. “Elizabeth Bennet is not—she’s not—”
“Oh, aye, sure she’s not.” Ewan waved me off. “But yer runnin’, aren’t ye? Thought ye were made o’ sterner stuff.”
“I’m not running. I’m—getting away. There’s a difference.”
“Aye. The difference is, one’s what a proper gentleman does. The other’s what a coward wi’ his tail tucked does.”
I turned, glaring at him. “And what do you suggest I do? Stay here, with you haunting my every move, embarrassing me in front of half the town?”
“Could do that.” Ewan shrugged. “Right then, London it is. Yer family’s in town, right? Wee sister o’ yours, she’s there too?”
I froze, the trunk’s latch half-closed in my hand.Georgiana.I hadn’t even considered that.
Ewan’s grin softened, almost thoughtful. “Aye, thought that’d catch yer ear. I’ve been wonderin’ what yer sister’s like. Must be somethin’, growin’ up with ye. Might be worth a wee visit tae see if she’s got that same stubborn streak.”
I stiffened, my pulse quickening. Georgiana didn’t need that—didn’t need him or the chaos he’d bring. And she didn’t need to see her older brother, her closest relation and defender, disintegrate before her eyes.
Ewan scratched his chin, frowning like he was deep in thought. “Ach, but ye know, it’s easier wi’ ye around. Yer a bit o’ fun, if I’m honest. I’m startin’ tae get used tae it—this place, these folk. A Highland spirit like mesel’ needs a bit o’ routine after all these years.”
I tensed, my thoughts still on Georgiana. “And if I don’t stay?”
“Och, then I’ll be wanderin’ aboot, tryin’ tae make sense o’ yer grand London. But who’s to say? Could be more trouble than it’s worth. I’d rather stick wi’ ye here, keep things as they are, eh? I’ve no mind tae be stirrin’ things up wi’ yer kin. No sense complicatin’ it more than it needs tae be.”
He wasn’t threatening—just pointing out that, as maddening as he was, things could be worse if I left. Egad, what if the earl or my friends in London saw me acting… out of sorts? Nothing short of a social catastrophe!
Perhaps... I was better off here for now.
Elizabeth
The house was inan uproar. Mama burst into the room like a general delivering news of victory, waving an invitation in the air. Her eyes were alight with the kind of excitement that always made me brace myself for what was coming.
“A ball! At Netherfield! Mr. Bingley has invited us all! Oh, Jane, you know this is a great honor toyou, above all!”
