But looking up into Fitzwilliam’s dark, tumultuous eyes, she knew how. All she’d thought on for days was the man before her. The only true difference between her and Jane was that Jane whispered of her affection each evening as they settled to sleep, while Elizabeth hid hers, deeming it too precious, too fragile, to share. She couldn’t chance her relations learning of her preoccupation with the man before her. Elizabeth did not know his heart, and if his feelings did not keep pace with her growing regard, one unsubtle remark from Mrs. Bennet would send him fleeing.
“It is not my intention to alarm you,” he repeated.
Elizabeth gathered her thoughts back to the present. “But it is alarming.” She studied his face, trying to ascertain if he understood. “We are a small, quiet community. First there were two men in Meryton, and now three at Netherfield Park. Will they be the last? Will we be overrun?”
He looked away with a grimace. “They will not be the last.”
Suspicion welled in Elizabeth. “You know more than you have told me.”
Fitzwilliam let out a sigh. “I do.”
Hands finding her hips, Elizabeth demanded, “Well?”
“I am not certain—”
“That a delicate young miss has the fortitude to comprehend whatever danger your cousin has brought to our community?” she finished for him with a thick overlay of sarcasm.
His gaze snapped to hers. “That isnotwhat I was about to say.”
“Then what were you about to say?”
“That there are secrets, confidences rather, woven into this, and I am not certain they are mine to divulge.”
Elizabeth pursed her lips, aggravated. He had her there. She could not esteem a man for being upright and honest and then rail at him for not giving up other people’s secrets. “Tell me this, are the people hereabouts in danger?”
His brow lined in thought, which reassured her. She would have met a hasty ‘no’ with considerable suspicion.
“I do not believe so,” he finally said. “My cousin is the focus of the pursuit of these men.”
“But you believe they will keep coming here to make attempts on him?”
“I do.”
“That makes no sense.” Elizabeth watched him carefully, seeking any telling reactions to her words. “I gather that Mr. Darcy is wealthy, but even he is not so wealthy as to incur an endless string of men attempting to abduct him. And why him and not some other wealthy gentleman? There must be more to this.”
Fitzwilliam’s mouth tightened.
Her voice took on a triumphant crow as she accused, “So thereismore to these attacks.”
“I did not say that.”
“You did not have to, sir.” Smugness filled her, followed hard by a return of worry. “You said there are confidences at stake, but there are stakes for others as well. For the people I care about, and for our community. I cannot judge how high they runif I have no notion what is taking place. And,” she added when he pressed his lips together even more firmly, “I will not be the only one whose suspicions are raised when word of this most recent attempt gets out. When I hear talk of the incident, I can add to people’s worries or attempt to soothe them.”
His eyes went wide. “Is that a threat?”
“It is a fact,” she replied with a tip of her chin, then sighed. “I imagine it was a bit of a threat, but only because I am genuinely worried for the people about whom I care.”
“They truly ought not to be in danger,” he said, his gaze intent. “Can you accept my assurance that come December first, this will be over?”
“December first?” How odd, to have a set date for attempted abductions to end.
“Yes. On my honor.” He searched her face, hope in his eyes.
Some of the tension leaving her frame, Elizabeth nodded. “I can accept your word, Fitzwilliam. I deem you a man of great character, and if you tell me that my community is in no danger and that all will be resolved by the first day of December, I believe you.”
“Thank you,” he said, his visage for once so stonily motionless that even she could not read his thoughts. “I had best return.”
Elizabeth darted a look at the sky, though a curtain of clouds hid the telltale location of the sun. “I as well.”
