It was queer, that burning sensation in the pit of my stomach as I watched him with Caroline. I did not think he was interested in her, but he was certainly permitting her a number of liberties in the way she touched him, pressed against his side, and gazed adoringly into his eyes. He could do worse on the marriage mart. Caroline had a dowry of twenty thousand pounds, no mere trifle. And she was elegant, in a way I never could be. That I found her tiresome and insincere was beside the point—she would make someone a desirable match someday. If she could ever catch someone she deemed worth catching, and she seemed to have found him in Fitzwilliam Darcy.
The idea saddened me beyond reason. I am not certain what it was that night—a little too much wine, the heady hangover of good company when one is too weary to enjoy them fully, or a growing unrest with my own jumbled feelings regarding Fitzwilliam, but I became oddly emotional. Caroline petted his strong chest, and he swept an arm around her, cradling her shoulders and holding her by the waist, and I nearly choked. Of course, it was just a dance, but it seemed like a good deal more that night.
There was nothing for it. I am not formed for ill humor, and I have never processed sorrow or jealousy well. And so, I laughed instead. I smiled at the colonel, I murmured little jokes and jests to him as we twirled, I fixed my eyes only on him so I would not have to watch the other couple. In short, I flirted as I had seldom done in my life. And later, I went upstairs and wept myself into confused exhaustion.
The colonel stayed with us for nearly three weeks. Perhaps it was presumptuous of Fitzwilliam to have invited him, butCharles was always eager to welcome a new friend, and I have never stood on formalities. We enjoyed his company and even asked him to stay longer than his original plan. I suspected, however, that the reason for his arrival was not merely our amusement.
Since the incident at my aunt’s home with Mr. Wickham, we had curtailed our outings. Of course, Charles and Caroline were never privy to all the reasons for it, but it was known to them that George Wickham was no friend of the Darcys. Fitzwilliam informed us that the man’s father had been his father’s steward and that the son had been provided for in the late Mr. Darcy’s will. He had proved a disappointment; moreover, had disdained the legacy appointed for him (a curacy), and demanded money instead. All ties were severed, and that was sufficient to explain why the family desired no contact with the handsome lieutenant who had charmed the neighborhood.
I, however, had begun to wonder if the colonel had business with the lieutenant. He never said as much, but on two occasions, I encountered him returning from town, very much out of humor. And once, when I took myself to the library for a midnight book, I passed the colonel’s door and heard the echo of serious masculine voices.
It was not my proper place to ask, nor even to allow that I had noticed anything curious, so I never spoke a word of my suspicions. However, no matter my own confused and fraught feelings for the gentleman, Fitzwilliam had become a cherished member of our little circle, though he and I did have our occasional clashes. He thought too well of himself by half, but I had come to feel... a great deal for him, even if I could not define it. I was grateful to see that he possessed at least one confidant who had both the power to play the friend in need, and also refused to take him too seriously.
Twelve
Richard was my nearestcousin on my mother’s side, and consequently, we had grown close as boys. Two years older than I, he was my opposite in nearly every way: loquacious where I was reserved, adventurous where I was cautious, and insightful in areas where I, admittedly, can be a bit oblivious. Elizabeth has teased that between us, we make one tolerably good sort of man.
I knew he would be just the man to encourage my reckless suit of a woman who was, in the eyes of the rest of the world, perfectly unsuitable. The way I had it in my head, he would be half in love with her within an hour of meeting her and would drag me to my room later with the threat of marrying her himself if I did not get on with it.
Therefore, I thought it must have been a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, when he finally gave me his impressions. He had been at Netherfield about a week by that time. We were enjoying a late night drink in his room, as we did quite often, and he was prowling about the floor.
“Do you know that Wickham has run up debts against all the local shopkeepers?”
“I am not surprised,” I answered.
“And there are rumors of misbehavior with some of their daughters, too.”
“I warrant he is not the only officer who could be accused of that.”
“So? You do not mean to do something about him?”
“I have done something,” I confessed, then I frowned. “Perhaps not enough, but I do not believe he will find any heiresses here to carry off.”
Richard sank into his chair. “Shall I have another chat with Colonel Forster? Keep a closer watch on the bounder?”
I lifted my shoulder. “It could not hurt if done discreetly. If you are thinking of something more drastic, kindly forget about it. It would only start rumors.”
“Then you had better do something about him yourself. I do not like him being so close. Let me take Georgiana back to London if you are worried about her, but his perfidy must be exposed. What other wrong has he been up to that you have the power to prevent?”
That stung, because he was right, and I knew it. I had been paralyzed by fear of what might be said if I took some public action against Wickham. My sense of dignity and my violent distaste for involving myself in anything so infamous warred with my sense of honor. Indeed, I did have a duty, for all my history with Wickham put me in the position of the best person to curtail his wrongdoing. “Very well,” I agreed heavily. “I will consider what is to be done.”
“About bloody time. Let me know if I need to arrange transport to Australia,” he grumbled. He made a face, then lifted his drink and fell silent.
I refilled my drink, then paced the room, trying to work up to what I had really meant to ask him. “Well,” I demanded after a few tense moments, “what… what do you think of Mrs. Bingley?”
He tipped back in his chair and sighed. “I wondered if she was the reason you summoned me here so urgently. You will not let me meet Wickham in a dark alley, and there seems to be nothing particularly wrong with Georgiana, so it must have something to do with that vivacious young widow.”
“Is it not obvious?”
“On your side, at least.”
I jerked straighter. “What does that mean?”
Richard grinned lazily and put up his feet on an ottoman. “Darcy, I have known you since you were in leading strings. I have watched countless women parade before you, from the time you were old enough to know what to do with a woman. Never have you tolerated half the impertinences that woman dishes out, and all with a smile on your face.”
“You make me sound rather the fool,” I replied a little stiffly.
He shrugged.
