Elizabeth gave his elbow a sharp tug of remonstrance. “What is troubling you? You have that look on your face. I have seen it before, and it never brought anything good.”
Despite his reluctance to confess all, Darcy smiled to himself. Anne had hardly noticed his expressions and moods, but he could hide nothing from Elizabeth. “Do you recall that letter from your father? How it was delayed and arrived without an envelope?”
“Someone else read it?” She stopped walking and stared at the ground, then sought his face. “But you said yourself that there was nothing damaging in the letter. There was the bit about it not being suitable for me to return home, but without proper context, someone just reading it could not infer anything truly dreadful.”
“Unless that person already had reason to suspect something and was intentionally searching to confirm it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who? Who had my letter, William?”
“One I used to call a friend, and the one person who had cause to think you are more than you appear.”
Elizabeth paled, but only slightly. Though her eyes were now dilated, she lifted her chin. “Does Georgiana know?”
“She was there the day I received Wickham’s demand letter. He wanted money in exchange for certain items he held, but I had, by a lucky chance, just discovered the name of the person to whom he was indebted. Rather than give in to his wants, I made a counter-threat, and your letter was returned the next day.”
“Without an envelope,” she added.
“Yes. Without that. I was glad just to see your letter in its rightful place, precious as it must have been to you at that moment. Still, I will not deny that it has troubled me since, and more so of late. I expect Wickham remains in search of money and has not entirely given up the idea of getting it from me. But come, let us have no more of this—you have told me before that I brood on matters to excess. Like enough, I am fretting about something that will never arise. Forgive me for spoiling your cheerful mood.”
They resumed walking on, both now sombre and quiet. At length, she squeezed his arm and looked up again. “Is this always the way it is for you?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean people, always seeking leverage to gain something from you. Money, status—some advantage. Does it never end?”
“I am afraid it does not.”
She shook her head. “I know now why everyone was so slow to welcome me. What you all must have thought when I turned up!”
“What I thought? If you wish me to be entirely honest, Itriedto think of you as another schemer. That impression lasted less than a minute.”
“And then what?”
He smiled as he recalled. “Oh, I was on my guard around you, to be sure, but it was because I believed you, not the reverse. You were too tart and contrary for me to do otherwise.”
“Truly, I was! So now, I will task you with another truthful confession. When was it that I first took your fancy? When I swooned into your arms? When I sat in your study and nearly told you off?”
“I did not fall so swiftly as that, but you drove your siege spikes into the walls that day, to be certain. Believe it or not, I would say the moment of my undoing was when I overheard you laughing about my moustache.”
“Oh! Now it is you who are being contrary. Have I not apologised for that enough times? My behaviour was hardly something I am proud to remember.”
“You have, but I will accept another apology. They usually lead to something interesting.”
“Yes, but if I tender ithere, we would be in a fearful pickle, for everyone in Hyde Park would be treated to a scene best preserved for private moments.”
He laughed. “When has that ever stopped you?”
“Do you know?” She tugged at his elbow to pull him close, then threw her arms around his neck. “I cannot recall.”
Darcy gave in, and within seconds, it was he clinging to her, pulling her head to his chest and then, scandalously, plying her lips with his own. That hungry, burning urge took him again, and he tried to still his hammering heart, but she was so alive and real in his arms! How could Heaven have sent him the one woman who could unlock his entire soul, then denied him the ability to make her entirely his own? He growled in frustration and pressed one last kiss to her brow.
“I never thought I could be jealous of Bingley,” he murmured against her soft skin. “But today, I would cut off my right hand to trade places with him.”
Elizabeth looked up, purposely brushing her lips along his cheek as she did so. “Why is that?”
“Because he is marrying the woman he loves within the week. I cannot even learn how long we will have to wait.”
“Patience, my love,” she soothed into his ear. “Our time will come.”
