“I am not accustomed to it, but I genuinely appreciate the intention behind it. Are you pleased with what she has done regarding the wedding? If there is anything you want to be different, I do not mind telling her it is my idea to spare you being the one to disappoint her.”
Warmth suffused Elizabeth, and she longed to cling to Darcy, an increasingly common experience given her future husband’s devotion to her well-being. At the moment, she was in particular need of his comfort. Taking a quick look about them to ensure they were completely alone, she slipped her arms about his waist and pressed her lips to his.
“You are the very best of men, and I shall never be able to account for my good fortune in winning your love. I am happy to let my mother have her way. She did not talk about anything too outrageous, and as long as she does not, I am content to let her carry on. Are you? If not, please do not hesitate to tell me.”
“As long as the morning ends with you being Mrs Darcy, I am satisfied.” He kissed her again, then stared into her eyes, and said, “Now, will you tell me what happened with your sister before dinner? I know something distressed her and angered you.”
Elizabeth attempted to express all of her disgust in a single noise, but knew she failed. Retrieving Miss Bingley’s letter, she held it out to him. “Read it, and you will understand.”
His expression darkened as he did. Then, mirroring her earlier actions, he closed his fist about the paper. “You cannot believe a word of—”
“Of course I do not,” she interjected. “She wishes to make us miserable. I can understand, as far as you and I are concerned—especially after my encounter with Mr Bingley, which he would have shared with her—but to include Jane is beyond unconscionable. As much as I never liked her, I would not have thought her capable of such cruelty. I am glad we decided to inform people what the Bingleys are like. This just shows that we are right to do it.”
Darcy nodded, then began to pace and run a hand over his mouth. Elizabeth watched, not knowing how to ease his agitation. He truly had considered the Bingleys friends. Would their ill use of him ever be at an end? She heard him spit out the name mentioned by Miss Bingley—Wickham—one that had previously been unfamiliar to her. At length, he stopped walking and returned to her side.
“There is much I could say about Wickham, but some of it is not my tale to tell. If you allow it, I would like to talk to the other principal person involved before explaining my connexion to him.”
“You need tell me nothing about him at all, if it is your preference,” Elizabeth assured him.
Briefly, he averted his eyes, and Elizabeth was certain she saw pain in his expression. She sensed it was not about the Bingleys. Then, he took her hand in his, drawing it to his mouth for a kiss.
“I would prefer to forget all about him—the Bingleys too, for that matter—but it seems I cannot just yet. I would have told you about him eventually, but I have wanted to think only about how happy I am. What about your sister? What does she make of the letter?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Jane has always preferred to think the best of everyone. The Bingleys deceived her, and she would feel less foolish if she could convince herself they were guilty. But she does not believe Miss Bingley’s accusations against you. Please do not think she does.” She told him what Jane had said about looking forward to being away from Longbourn.
He nodded. “The sooner all of us can forget about them, the better. I shall talk to her tomorrow, if you think it wise, and in a few days, I believe—I hope—I shall be able to explain the situation with Wickham fully. Wewerefriends, once upon a time, but it has been years since I could think well of him. He is the only one of us who acted dishonourably.”
“I have no doubt about it.” She spoke softly, and attempted to demonstrate the truthfulness of her words in the look she gave him.
He took a deep breath, slowly releasing it, and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, Elizabeth. I would regret you and Miss Bennet ever having to meet people like the Bingleys, if it did not also mean you and I would never have known each other.”
“And I love you. You, Jane, and I will all be well in time. This brief period of our lives will pass, and we shall be happy.”
They kissed, and Darcy insisted she return to the house rather than remain in the cool night air any longer.
* * *
Purvis Lodge was exactly what Darcy needed. It was a comfortable house, well-maintained, close enough to Longbourn to make being there every day easy, and prepared for immediate occupation. An agreement was struck with Mr Philips, who was acting on behalf of the proprietor. Darcy sent word to town that his relations could make arrangements to join him.
When they did, two days later, Darcy spoke to Georgiana and told her about Miss Bingley’s letter, chiefly what she had written about Wickham.
“I promised Elizabeth I would tell her about my connexion to him. I do not need to explain your part in my dealings with him, but—”
“No,” Georgiana interjected while shaking her head.
Darcy was startled by her vehemence, and quietly waited for her to continue. He half expected her to flee the room, but instead, she sat, contemplating her hands, for a moment.
“I have considered what you said to me in town, about-about telling Miss Elizabeth what happened in Ramsgate. This has convinced me that I should,” she said.
“If you prefer, I can tell her.”
Georgiana again shook her head. “I want to do it. I think I should tell Miss Bennet too, unless— Oh, Brother, will they hate me? I was so stupid!” Her voice rose as she spoke, and tears filled her eyes.
Darcy assured her they would not. Seeing how nervous she was about making the confession, he again raised the possibility of being the one to talk to Elizabeth and Miss Bennet, and in the end, they agreed to speak to the ladies together.
Wanting to put the disagreeable business behind him, Darcy arranged for Elizabeth and Miss Bennet to call on Georgiana at Purvis Lodge. They took the news as he guessed they would. Miss Bennet was horrified at learning how Wickham had treated them and full of sympathy; to those feelings, Elizabeth added a healthy measure of anger.
“You poor girl,” Miss Bennet cried, sitting beside Georgiana and taking her hand. “How terrible for you! You must not blame yourself. Why would you ever suspect someone you had known as your brother’s dear friendandyour father’s godson?”
