“You’re using me as bait,” she said at last.
His jaw tightened. “I am using you to find the men who want you silenced.”
Her eyes did not flinch from his. “And if they bite?”
“Then I shall be ready. This time, I will not be two steps behind. This time, I will meet them face to face.”
Elizabeth was silent for a long moment. Then, at last, she said quietly, “Very well. But if I am to play the mouse, Mr. Darcy…youhad best be the hawk, rather than some other.”
His mouth twitched grimly. “I intend to be.”
Chapter Nineteen
Mr.Collinsarrivedbackat Longbourn in high spirits—and with a loud voice in the hall to prove it. Laughter followed him—Kitty’s shrill giggle and Lydia’s breathless commentary on something they had seen in town.
The noise carried into the drawing room, where Elizabeth sat with her pitiful first attempt at embroidery, watching Jane blushing at Mr. Bingley. Mrs. Bennet perked up immediately at the sound of voices returning to the hall.
A moment later, Mr. Collins stepped into the room, still rubbing his hands because his gloves had proved a bit too tight. Kitty and Lydia tumbled in behind him, chatting animatedly.
“Oh, Mr. Collins!” Mrs. Bennet called brightly. “We did not expect you back so soon!”
“Indeed, indeed, madam, I found my errands in Meryton quickly concluded.” He turned around and swept the room with a pleased swagger of a greeting, then stopped cold as his eyes fell on the doorway.
Mr. Darcy stood just outside the sitting room, having only just emerged from a quiet conference with Mr. Bennet. At the sight of him, Collins blanched, and Darcy… Darcy went entirely red in the face and looked as if he had seen a demon.
Collins’ back straightened with almost comic rigidity. “Mr. Darcy,” he stammered, “I was unaware of your presence here.”
Darcy inclined his head slightly, his expression impassive as he entered the room enough to permit a greeting. “I think you will find the feeling mutual, Mr. Collins.”
Mrs. Bennet, oblivious to the sudden drop in temperature, fluttered her hand. “Yes, how delightful you have already been acquainted! Mr. Collins, Mr. Darcy is a guest of Mr. Bingley’s once again. Such a pleasure. Could not keep away from our lovely ladies in Hertfordshire, I daresay,” she added with a giggle.
Collins gave a jerky nod, his eyes still fixed on Darcy, the color in his cheeks becoming splotchy. “I confess myself quite shocked,” he said, his voice choking on the words. “To find Mr. Darcy of all people here—in a respectable household!”
The air in the room froze.
Mrs. Bennet blinked. “What a very odd thing to say, Mr. Collins. Mr. Darcy is Mr. Bingley’s friend. Why should he not be here?”
Collins looked flustered, then pounced on the opening with the eagerness of a man who had waited too long to deliver his piece. “Ah, but madam, surely you have heard—his family name, once so celebrated, has fallen into disgrace.”
Elizabeth turned sharply toward him. “Disgrace?”
Collins lifted his chin, hands clasped before him in mock solemnity. “Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself, my most esteemed patroness, has spoken of it. The Darcys of Pemberley—what is left of them—are no longer received in certain circles.”
The silence that followed was almost surreal, for the Bennets were a family that were not known for quiet reflection. But now, the clock was the loudest noise in the room.
Jane’s gaze flickered uncertainly between Collins and Darcy. Mr. Bingley’s brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed dangerously—if, indeed, so affable a man could look dangerous. Even Mrs. Bennet, normally eager for gossip, looked somewhat unsure.
Darcy stood perfectly still. His face betrayed nothing, but Elizabeth could see it—the stiff set of his shoulders, the iron thread of tension running through his jaw. He was enduring this. Silently. Proudly. And not, she suspected, for the first time.
Collins continued, emboldened by Darcy’s silence. “It was all very tragic. The estate, you see, was lost to the family. Ruined. A dreadful scandal, everyone says as much. Though Lady Catherine did not speak of particulars, only that her nephew was no longer… suitable company. Alibertine, she has pronounced him, and for good and proper reasons, I am certain.”
A quiet gasp escaped Kitty. Lydia, for once, said nothing at all. Bingley managed a weak, “Now, see here…”
But it was Elizabeth who rose slowly from her chair, the embroidery hoop falling unnoticed to the floor. “Mr. Collins,” she said, “I do not think this is the sort of thing one says in another man’s drawing room.”
Collins turned toward her, blinked, and then said with obsequious confidence, “I only meant to spare the family any embarrassment. One would not wish to form close associations with a gentleman whose circumstances are so very… tainted.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak again, but another voice beat her to it.
