“I have noticed that Mrs. Collins is quite adept at assisting her husband,” said Mr. Darcy diplomatically. After a pause, he said, “You told me that my declaration has caught you by surprise. Does that mean that you may be able to come to return my affections with time, now that you know?”
Elizabeth sighed. It was odd. Mr. Darcy had always made her uncomfortable. He was too stiff, too silent, too formal, too intense. Yet now that he had laid his heart bare before her, she felt she could do the same.
“You have caught me on a very bad day for this sort of discussion,” she said. “As I mentioned, we have recently discovered an unknown family connection, and there is much upheaval in my family and in my life. That is why I have a headache this evening, since I spent a nearly sleepless night and most of today thinking about it. Because of this, my future is completely hidden from view. If I was my old self, I would probably say that it was unlikely. Now, however, who can say?”
“Why would you say it was unlikely?” asked Mr. Darcy.
Elizabeth shrugged. “You have never given me a reason to think well of you. From the first time I saw you, you were looking down on me, my family, and everyone I’ve ever known. Why would I like someone like that? Additionally, I have heard rumors that you are not particularly honorable, which makes it doubly difficult to gauge whether you are capable of making a wife happy and secure.”
Mr. Darcy’s face clouded with anger, though his voice was steady. “Who has been casting aspersions on my honor?” Before Elizabeth could reply, however, he answered his own question.“Let me guess, Wickham.” When she nodded, he asked, “What did he tell you?”
Mr. Wickham was an officer of the militia, a member of the regiment that had quartered in Elizabeth’s hometown, Meryton, for the winter and spring. He was much like Colonel Fitzwilliam, though with a little less substance and a little more charm and much more handsome features. He and Elizabeth had been good friends since shortly after they met.
“He said you denied him a living that was left to him in your father’s will,” said Elizabeth. “I tried to ask you about it at Mr. Bingley’s ball, but you did not appear to wish to discuss him, only declaring that he made friends easily but did not always keep them for long.”
Mr. Darcy drew his hand down his face, clearly berating himself internally. “I apologize for my cryptic remark. The subject of George Wickham is one that always brings out the worst in me. Believe me, Miss Bennet, I have every reason to dislike the man. However, I would never dishonor my father’s wishes in such a way.”
Mr. Darcy took a deep breath, likely attempting to calm his anger. “When my father’s will was read, Wickham declared he had no intention of taking holy orders and asked for a lump sum of money instead of the living. I granted the request and gave him three thousand pounds in addition to the thousand pounds that was a bequest from my father. A few years later, however, he returned. All his money was gone, and he requested the living, since the previous incumbent had recently died. I denied him. Not because of who he was, but because he had already given it up and been compensated for it.”
“So, his story was both true and misleading,” said Elizabeth.
“Yes,” replied Mr. Darcy. “That is his way. He does not lie when telling the truth will accomplish his goal just as well. Even when he does lie, there is usually a kernel of truth in all his statements. It makes him very believable. You are certainly not the first person to fall for his deceptions. My father, even to his dying breath, believed Mr. Wickham to be a man of honor. I can declare with certainty, however, that he is nothing of the sort.”
“How can I disbelieve a man who has just offered me the world and accepted with equanimity when I refused to receive it?” said Elizabeth with a slight smile.
Mr. Darcy smiled a little in return, and Elizabeth found the sight to be quite attractive.
“I must return to my sister in the next day or two,” he said. “When will I see you again?”
The memory that her father’s dukedom was in Derbyshire, the very county that contained Mr. Darcy’s home of Pemberley, floated to the top of her mind, making her smile in a secretive sort of way. “I do not know when or even where,” she said. “But I am almost certain we will meet again, likely within the next few months.”
Curiosity lit within his eyes. “You have made me very curious, indeed, about this newfound relation of yours.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “I can tell you no more, and only these highly unusual circumstances would have led me to say even this much. Please, do keep it to yourself.”
“I will,” he replied. Then he stood. “I will leave you in peace. I hope you will accept my best wishes for your health and happiness, both now and in this unknown future.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she said. “I wish you good night.”
Chapter 3
When Mr. Darcy left, Elizabeth felt oddly at peace, more so than she had felt since she received the express from her father. She suspected it was mostly due to her unsightly outburst of laughter, but she did not think too hard about it. She was far too relieved to have her mind truly at rest.
Half an hour later, she ate a small supper. Then she retired for the night, finding it much easier to sleep than she had the night before.
The following day, both Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam called at the parsonage to make their farewells, since they would be leaving that very day. Each of them seemed to pay particular attention to Elizabeth, but she refused to shake her newfound peace by wondering what it could mean. For the moment, it did not matter.
The next few days passed as most other days had done during her stay with Mr. and Mrs. Collins. The mornings and afternoons were peaceful, and dinner was always taken up by Mr. Collins telling all the ladies about the events of his day.
Finally, Monday arrived, and with it came Mr. Bennet. He drew up to the parsonage just before noon in the family’s carriage with four post horses attached. Elizabeth had never in her life seen her father use more than two horses, and he usually did his best to use just one. The extravagance caught herby surprise, but she decided not to question it in Mr. Collins’ presence.
Elizabeth’s trunks were attached to the back of the carriage by the driver while she said farewell to Mr. Collins, Charlotte, and Maria. Though she could hardly say so, she was fairly certain that she wouldn’t be seeing any of them again for a very long time. Since Charlotte was Elizabeth’s closest friend, the thought brought tears to her eyes, but she did her best to hide them.
Once she was in the carriage and it was moving, Elizabeth was finally able to ask some of her many questions. “Based on the number of post horses you are using, I would assume you have at least ascertained that the dukedom is not in dire straits.”
Papa chuckled. “I do not yet know all the details. That will have to wait until I consult the solicitor who handled the will, but from what I was able to ascertain from the Prince Regent and others at court who knew Duke Derby, the estate is on sound financial footing. Those who knew anything about it estimated that his income was about twenty thousand pounds per year.”
“Twenty thousand…” cried Elizabeth. “That is enormous. Is that a normal income for a duke?”
