He reached her, seizing her arm. She let out a squeal as he pulled her bodily off Wickham’s lap and to her feet. Her gown was rumpled, her hair, unbonneted, hung loose down her back.
“Let me go! You are hurting me!” she cried.
He gripped her wrist; not roughly, but firmly enough that she could not escape. “What in the name of everything holy do you think you are doing?” he bit out.
“I love him!” she cried, attempting to pull her arm free.
Darcy turned to Wickham, his voice low and deadly. “You despicable cur.”
Wickham raised both hands. “This was her idea. She threw herself at me.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “She is a child.”
“I am aware of that,” Wickham retorted hotly. “One look at her bony frame makes it abundantly clear.”
“You snake,” Darcy snarled.
Wickham stepped forward, hands up. “In spite of her boyish figure, she is nearly sixteen, and it was her idea. Shewantedthis—shebeggedfor it.”
Darcy froze. “And you just went along with it, did you?”
Wickham spoke more quickly, a hint of pleading in voice. “I tried to talk her down. You know I would never…” He gave a strained laugh. “I have never fancied women like her, as you well know. Not my usual…type.”
Darcy’s breath came hard through his nose. His fist clenched.
Georgiana twisted in his grasp. “You do not understand! I love him! George loves me!”
Wickham turned on her, startled. “No—I mean—Georgiana, we talked about this—”
“Stop lying!” she screamed. “We were going to elope! Yousaidwe would!”
Wickham paled further. “Please, Darcy—” he took a step forward, his hands raised as if in prayer. “I care about her, and I missed Pemberley. I thought this would—”
Darcy shoved his sister behind him. “Not. Another. Step. You have done enough.”
“Donotblame him!” Georgiana shrieked. “I love him, Fitzwilliam, and you cannot stop me—”
Darcy grasped her upper arm and began hauling her away, up the rocky path toward the house.
“George!” she screamed. “George!”
Wickham followed a few steps, shouting, “She may be your ward, but she is not your property.”
Darcy ignored him, pushing forward even more quickly. His sister’s slipper caught on a stone, but he did not slow down.
“She is a human being with feelings…and needs,” Wickham continued to shout, “which you choose to ignore, as usual. Do you truly think she would be in this position if you were not so cold and controlling? She needed affection! A kind word! You remove her from her friends and lock her in a house with a paid chaperone and wonder why she reached for someone familiar?”
Darcy stopped suddenly and turned on his old friend. “You dare—” He paused and took a calming breath before enunciating each word. “Go back to hell, Wickham, where men like you belong. Or I will call for Richard to come and deal with you himself.”
Wickham froze, his face even more pale than before. “Would you really, Darcy? I mean so little to you, then?”
Darcy’s heart hammered in fury. His grip on Georgiana tightened, and she began to cry.
“Enough.” Darcy’s voice dropped to a low rumble. “I swear to you, if you speak one more word—”
Wickham faltered, then replied hotly, “You think dragging her back will make her pure again? That everyone will just forget? She isruined, Darcy. That ison you!”
“Then thank GodIfound her before anyone else did.”
