As he was coming to the conclusion that he should reject the officer’s offer, he happened to see Colonel Fitzwilliam approachCharlotte. He leaned towards her and said something in her ear. Though her expressions was forbidding, her blush said that she secretly enjoyed the attention.
Rage rose in his breast. It was like no feeling he had ever felt before, not even when his father had beaten him. All these people, everyone in the room, were making a fool of him, treating him as if he had no sense, as if he could not see what was right in front of his nose.
With his anger guiding his words, Mr. Collins said, “What did you have in mind?”
“Ah, ah,” said Mr. Wickham. “Not yet. First, we must discuss the price. I was thinking twenty-five pounds.”
“You are out of your mind, man,” said Mr. Collins. “That is more than you make in a year.”
“Perhaps,” said Wickham. “But if I get caught attempting to do your dirty work, I will lose that income. I feel it is a fair trade.”
For a second time, Mr. Collins hesitated. What did the officer wish to do that could get him dismissed from the militia? He looked around the room, hoping to find some reason to spare all the fools in front of him.
Instead, he saw Mr. Darcy, his esteemed patroness’ nephew, clearly flirting with Miss Elizabeth, and she had the temerity to return it. That lady that Mr. Collins had deigned to offer for despite her complete lack of fortune, who had thrown his generosity back in his face in the most insulting manner, could not be allowed to continue her schemes.
“Twenty pounds,” said Mr. Collins. “I cannot afford any more than that. That is solely on the condition that both Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam leave the neighborhood before Wednesday next.”
“It shall be done,” said Mr. Wickham. “Shall we discuss ways and means?”
“I care not what you do,” said Mr. Collins. “I do not wish to know as long as those two gentlemen are gone.”
“As you will,” said Mr. Wickham.
Chapter 16
Two days after Charlotte’s engagement party, Elizabeth snuck out of the house before breakfast to go for a walk. She usually took her walks later in the day, but with Mr. Darcy’s frequent visits, she had not exercised as much as she was used to. So, on this day, she decided to take her walk well before the time he would likely call.
Her long stride and swift pace took her away from Longbourn at a good clip. Elizabeth reveled in the feeling of movement and the stark beauty of the leafless trees on her right and the empty fields on her left.
She thought mostly of Mr. Darcy. She found that she quite liked the man now. Being exposed to his personality on a more frequent and more intimate basis had given her insight into his true personality that public meetings at parties or even balls never could have. He was a very different person in private than he was in public.
Her mind flitted over the many times and ways he had expressed his feelings to her. She recalled the warmth in his eyes and the slight smile that graced his face when he looked at her. She recalled the stern expression he wore when he was hiding his emotions.
Without realizing it, a smile had bloomed on her face.
As all these thoughts and images drifted through her mind, Elizabeth realized that she had begun to return Mr. Darcy’s affection for her, that if she allowed herself to do so, she could be very much in love with the man.
She imagined a life lived with him. His wealth and lifestyle she couldn’t truly picture, but she could well imagine sitting with him at dinner every evening as they talked about their day or the news…or their children.
She imagined sitting in a parlor with a child in her lap while Mr. Darcy looked fondly upon both of them. A powerful feeling of yearning, a desire to bear children, arose in Elizabeth. She had never truly wished to do so before, but now the idea was entirely appealing.
The only thing that held her back from giving in to this dream, from accepting what Mr. Darcy had clearly offered multiple times, was Mr. Wickham’s warning about Mr. Darcy being a man without honor.
It was a difficult idea to accept. After all their discussions, some of them quite serious discussions about his life at Pemberley, Elizabeth simply could not believe Mr. Darcy would behave dishonestly. Yet, she also could not bring herself to disbelieve Mr. Wickham, whose very countenance spoke of sincerity.
As she walked and pondered, she saw a man running towards her on the path. As he came closer, she realized it was Mr. Wickham.
He stopped in front of her and took a moment to catch his breath. “Miss Bennet,” he said as soon as he could. “Thank goodness you are here. There is a child trapped under a heavy tree branch just ahead. I have been running, looking for help, and you were the first I could find.”
“My goodness,” she said. “How can I help?”
“If it is not too much to ask, can you keep the child calm while I once again run to fetch help? I believe I can run a bit faster than you can.”
“Yes, you can certainly run faster and farther,” she said. “Just show me the way, then you can be off. I recommend heading for the blacksmith in the village, since he is the strongest man around, and he can help you find a cart for the child.”
“Wonderful,” he said. “I knew I could count on you as soon as I saw you. Come with me, and I will show you the path that the child took.”
The two of them set off together with Elizabeth almost jogging while Mr. Wickham strode forward on his long legs. When they reached a place where a path through the woods began, he said, “Just down this way, just beyond where you can see.”
