Furthermore, his exemplary behavior during the time they had spent together was in large part what attracted her, and now that behavior was in question. Yes, he had seemed honest, thoughtful, upright, serious in a beguiling, precious way that made her long to make him smile…
But was any of that truly him? He had, after all, mercurially offered for Miss Bingley, presumably before even departing for Scotland. Maybe the man who’d so swiftly captured Elizabeth’s heart did not exist.
Somehow, sadly, that did not make her heartache any less real.
When they reached Netherfield Park, Elizabeth dutifully trailed her relations inside. Dully, she observed that Miss Bingley truly had made the manor house beautiful for the occasion. Hothouse flowers adorned every surface. From the direction of Netherfield Park’s largest drawing room, the music of stringed instruments beckoned, soft and lovely. It was everything Jane could want for her wedding day.
Entering the drawing room felt akin to stepping out of a sheltering doorway and into the wind. Light, sound, a cornucopia of scents both sweet and savory, all slammed into Elizabeth. She halted, blinking.
And sighted Miss Bingley across the room, laughing, on Mr. Darcy’s arm. Shock jolted through Elizabeth. How could Miss Bingley flirt so with Mr. Darcy after signing away any right to marry him, and after becoming engaged to Fitzwilliam? Had she no regard for Mr. Darcy’s feelings, for he gazed on her with obvious affection. What a cruel, heartless game Miss Bingley played.
Their gazes collided and Elizabeth spun, striding from a room where, suddenly, there was no air. Miss Bingley sucked it all up. Took it, as she’d taken Fitzwilliam.
Ignoring the startled staff who lurked without in case summoned, Elizabeth rushed down the hallway.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Bingley’s voice called.
Elizabeth halted. What did Miss Bingley want? To gloat? To beg Elizabeth not to tell Fitzwilliam that she’d seen Miss Bingley with Mr. Darcy?
Hands balling, Elizabeth pivoted.
Miss Bingley halted mid-stride, her expression startled. “Whatever is the matter?”
“What is the matter?” Elizabeth’s voice cracked. “How can you stand there and flirt with Mr. Darcy when you are engaged to his cousin? It is unfair to both, as you well know.”
Miss Bingley’s mouth dropped open. She cast a quick look over her shoulder. “Charles did not tell you?”
What did Mr. Bingley have to do with anything? “Tell me what?”
Sympathy overtook Miss Bingley’s features. She came forward, reaching for Elizabeth’s hands. “I am so sorry. Oh, you must be so confused.” She looked about, then tugged Elizabeth in the direction of a nearby doorway. Over her shoulder, she called, “Fetch my brother immediately.”
Confusion indeed filling her, Elizabeth let Miss Bingley drag her into a small parlor, the only light that of the dull November sun filtering through two tall windows. Yanking free, Elizabeth halted in the middle of the room. “Tell me what?” she reiterated.
“I assumed he had told you, or at least told Jane, and that she would tell you.” Miss Bingley flung up her hands. “Sometimes there is nothing to do with him. Whatever was he thinking?”
Mr. Bingley strode in, followed by Jane. Both appeared as bewildered as Elizabeth felt.
“Caroline, Miss Elizabeth.” Mr. Bingley looked from face to face. “You said it is urgent?”
“You did not tell Miss Elizabeth that Richard was pretending to be Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy was pretending to be him?”
Elizabeth stared at Miss Bingley, unable to comprehend those words.
Mr. Bingley swallowed, tugging at his cravat. “It is none of our concern. Not my place, and all that.”
“What are you saying?” Jane asked.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, my betrothed, was pretending to be Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley reiterated. “And Mr. Darcy was pretending to be Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“I do not understand,” Elizabeth whispered, the room tilting.
“But why?” Jane looked from Mr. Bingley to Miss Bingley and back. “Because of the abduction attempts?”
“Oh, it was considerably more than that,” Miss Bingley said. “There was a ransom on Mr. Darcy’s head. A bounty. Richard had to pretend to be Mr. Darcy to keep him safe.”
A ransom? Pieces clicked together. A ransom that expired on December first.
Jane turned anxious eyes on Mr. Bingley. “You knew about this and did not tell me?”
