Still gaping, Fitzwilliam muttered, “Well, don’t I look the fool? I’ve been telling everyone what a fine statesman you’d make. Including Miss Elizabeth.”
Darcy’s head snapped up, his expression hardening. “Miss Elizabeth?”
“Indeed, who else? I thought she, of all people, would fancy hearing—”
“Whatdid you say to her?”
Richard blinked. “I only said that this party was a fine endeavor, and it could serve your political career well. I thought I was helping to talk you up, Darcy.”
A surge of anger rose in his chest. “You thought—” He let out a sharp breath, pacing a few steps away. “You thought you werehelping? You’ve undone everything, Richard!”
“What?” Richard looked genuinely confused. “I say, what the devil do you mean?”
“You have made me look like an opportunist! Like I am exploiting this entire effort for my own gain.” Darcy’s voice rose, his frustration spilling over. “She must have believed every word you said!”
Richard stepped back, his face falling in realization. “Darcy, I swear, I didn’t mean—”
“This is why she left for London! She thinks I am exactly the man I’ve worked so hardnotto be! Egad, who could blame her for washing her hands of me?”
“Oh, come. Surely it had nothing to do with—”
“It hadeverythingto do with it! Little wonder she could hardly stand the sight of me.” He lurched for the door. “I’ll call for my horse. I’ll ride to London now and—”
Richard grabbed his arm, halting him. “Darcy, stop. Think.”
Darcy spun to face him, his expression fierce. “Whatam I to think, Richard? That you’ve cost me the only woman I have ever—” He broke off, his voice snagging on the words.
Richard held up his hands in apology. “I’m sorry, Darcy. Truly, I am. I really thought it sounded fine—responsible and benevolent and all that, but taken a certain way…”
“What sort of woman did you think she was?” Darcy raged. “The sort to lust for power and wealth? The sort I have spent years avoiding?”
Richard’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You are right. She is not at all like that—I am heartily sorry, Darcy. But you cannot leave now. The party is in a few hours. If you abandon this, all of it will have been for nothing.”
Darcy’s shoulders sagged. His breath came hard and fast, the effort to restrain himself almost as taxing as his earlier labors. He glared at Richard, fists clenched at his sides. “You are right,” he bit out, his voice low and tight. “But do not think for a moment that this is over. When this party is done, you and I will have a reckoning.”
Richard offered a faint, nervous smile. “I’ll even confess it all to her myself, if it helps. When this is done, you can take a swing at me. Break my nose, bust my jaw—whatever you like.”
Darcy’s lips twitched despite himself, though his voice remained hard. “You deserve worse.”
Richard chuckled weakly. “Probably. But first, let’s see this party through. Then, first thing tomorrow, we will go to London together and bring your lady home.”
Twenty-Four
Elizabeth’s foot landed onthe first step, and her eyes immediately swept upward.
“It is beautiful, is it not?” Jane murmured, stepping into the house beside her.
Elizabeth nodded, her gaze drifting from banisters to ceiling—to the new rugs gracing the entry and the hothouse flowers brightening every corner and wall. “They’ve outdone themselves. It feels as though the entire house has come alive.”
From somewhere down the hall, a burst of laughter and the murmur of voices reached her ears. The commotion seemed to come from the direction of the ballroom. Elizabeth’s head turned instinctively, her gaze drifting toward the partially open door at the far end of the corridor.
Bingley, who was directing footmen with the Bennet sisters’ trunks of gowns toward the staircase, caught the movement and smiled broadly. “Ah, that would be Darcy and Fitzwilliam,” he said, gesturing with one hand. “They’re in the ballroom making final arrangements. I think Darcy’s taken it upon himself to ensure the orchestra’s placement is flawless—or at least that’s what he claims. Likely, he just needs something to keep him busy.”
Elizabeth’s pulse quickened. Her gaze lingered on the door, and she thought she caught a faint, familiar cadence to the voices within. Darcy’s voice, surely! The words were indistinct, muffled by distance, but the sound tugged at something deep within her.
For a fleeting moment, she imagined slipping away, finding an excuse to venture into the ballroom. What would he say if she walked in? What wouldshesay? Her fingers curled lightly around the banister, her resolve teetering.
If she could speak to him alone—even for just a few minutes—it might ease the desperate ache that had followed her since London. Her hand twitched as though to take a step, but Jane’s gentle touch on her arm stopped her.
