“You act upon the attraction of a moment. Why should I trust my heart and potentially my future to you? How can I know thatyouwill not engagemyfeelings and expectations only to leave and never return? And if I did trust you, what then? If your cousin would so disdain any connexion with my family for theson of a tradesman, would he not more so oppose a connexion to his own cousin?”
She stepped away, her hands fisting at her sides.
Fitzwilliam was even more decided. Miss Elizabeth displayed such passion in defence of her sister and such emotion in her struggle to trust him—would not this passion, if he could win her regard and love, make her a “pearl of great price”?
He stepped closer, speaking softly.
“Miss Elizabeth, peace. I am not Bingley, a young man easily swayed by others. I am my own man.” He gently encouraged her to face him. “I must rejoin my men soon if we are to make London before dark. Will you give this a chance, Miss Elizabeth? Will you allow me to call upon you?”
Finally, she nodded, and they stepped apart.
“You may call, sir.” She grimaced adorably. “You have yet to meet my family, and Jane. We shall see if your ardour survives.”
Fitzwilliam released his breath slowly, resisting the exhilaration surging inside. He grinned, pleased at the shy smile he received in return as she took his arm and led him into the house.
He bade farewell to MrBennet, securing his permission to write.
They were more than ready to turn Wickham over upon arrival in London. One look at the gaoler and the miscreant had resorted to begging, demanding to see Darcy in the hope of rescue. The heavy gates closed on his pleas.
Fitzwilliam completed his report with satisfaction, then removed to Darcy House. He anticipated sharing his news with his cousin. Wickham was no longer the albatross around their necks.
The butler let Fitzwilliam into the house, advising him that MrDarcy was expected home for dinner after meeting MrBingley at the club. In the study, he availed himself of a glass of brandy and, reclining on his favourite sofa before the fire, closed his eyes to consider the finer qualities of one Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
It was in this attitude that Darcy found him some time later. Fitzwilliam roused himself at his cousin’s welcome.
“Fitz. You are back so soon? What of Wickham?” Darcy poured himself a glass of the brandy and waved the bottle at him. He shook his head.
“Darcy, you will be pleased to know that Wickham will no longer be a thorn in your side. Indeed, the business was completed with little effort on my part. A local miss dispatched him as neatly as I have ever seen. Even you would have been impressed.” He smirked. After an amusing description of the event, he continued. “Wickham whinged all the way to the gaol.”
He could tell his cousin was conflicted. They could both remember a time when George Wickham was a friend. He refilled his glass and lifted it in a toast. They drank deeply.
“Now to my news. Congratulate me, Cousin, for I have met my future wife.”
Darcy choked, sputtering and cursing as brandy spattered his sleeve and trouser leg. Fitzwilliam laughed and offered him his handkerchief.
“That is, if I can convince her of my constancy. You and Bingley certainly poisoned the well. Her father nearly denied an introduction! It is purely by chance that I was allowed to meet her. And convincing her to let me call was…challenging and encouraging. She cares not a whit for my status or connexions—it was clear they were more hindrance than asset. She questioned my judgement and even my character at my request to call on the strength of a single encounter.
“Even before she dealt with Wickham, I was arrested by her engaging expression and pleasing figure. When that reprobate set his hands upon her person, it ignited a flame in me that matched the fire flashing in her eyes. Had I detected even a semblance of such fire in one of the ladies promoted by my mother, I should have been wed long ago.”
He sipped the fine brandy.
“But I am not an impulsive man, as you well know. I scouted the terrain and took my bearings from local opinions. What I learnt of Miss Elizabeth Bennet was sufficient incentive to seek an introduction. Her reluctance, and that of her father, to accept my attentions, only firmed my resolve to earn her regard.”
Darcy had stiffened, his face grim. Fitzwilliam noticed the shake in his hand as he set down his glass with a clink.
“What, who! Did you sayBennet?” He thrust himself from the seat. “What the hell are you thinking, Fitz? I no sooner extricate Bingley from that grasping family, and you step into their trap! Did I not tell you that such a connexion would be unsupportable, a degradation?” He paced, muttering under his breath.
Fitzwilliam slammed his glass down. “Did you not hear a word that I said? I am not Bingley, a weak-willed boy you can lead around by the nose. Nor do I value people as commodities on the social exchange.”
Darcy burst out, “She has nothing. Nothing! No fortune, no connexions—her grasping mother and bevy of sisters will bleed you dry. You cannot afford to wed Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Is that what you told Bingley to keep him away from her sister?” Fitzwilliam scoffed. “You had best hope Bingley does not plan to return to his estate, for after your efforts to ‘save him,’ neither of you has any cachet in the area. Whileyoumay see the family as deplorable,the Bennetsare well respected in Meryton, especially the eldest daughters. Your scornful manner and precipitous departure offended the neighbourhood.”
“I do not give a damn about the neighbourhood! They are all beneath us—lower gentry with no connexions. The earl will have an apoplexy. You would be well to end this now, before you are the one to raise expectations.” Darcy stalked away from him, hands fisted.
Fitzwilliam shook his head in frustration. “I had hoped you would be happy for me, Darcy.” His voice hardened. “I will not trouble you further—but know this, I will not tolerate any disrespect towards Miss Elizabeth or her family.” He closed the door firmly behind him.
That evening, Fitzwilliam posted a letter to the Bennets stating he planned to return to Meryton on Friday and Saturday. He also wrote a brief note to his mother. In it, he expressed his hopes for a match and asked for her prayers for his success. He did not elaborate; she would understand.
