Page 123 of Mr. Darcy’s Diamonds

“Is…is this what you wish for? To enter service as a governess?” He spoke almost in a whisper and leaned close.

She shook her head, and a loose curl hit his cheek, bringing with it her unique lavender scent. He closed his eyes and inhaled before continuing.

“Then why? You have not sent inquiries yet?”

“No, not yet.” She turned to look at him again, and he leaned back only a little. “I must be prepared, though. I know my prospects are slim. Mr. Wickham was my last hope, really. And I cannot rely on my uncles for much longer⁠—”

“Wickham your last hope?” He whispered harshly and took a quick look at the company to ensure nobody paid them any mind. He was grateful Mrs. Pumphrey was a late riser. “Do you still harbor feelings for that…” He could not say what he felt about the monster.

“No, no. I never did care for him much. I only mean…oh, this is not the place for such a conversation. For now, I am only researching and preparing for the day when I will apply. So, you see,” she smiled playfully but not sincerely, “you need not drop my friendship again so soon.” Her eyes fell, and she turned to drink more tea.

Drop her friendship again. Like he had two years earlier. He looked around the room again to be sure everyone was still oblivious to them before leaning close to Elizabeth’s ear.

“I am sorry, so sorry, about how I handled…the situation two years ago, but have I not assured you I will not forsake your friendship again?”

She turned so quickly her cheek brushed his, and they both sat back a few inches, unfortunately. She had tears in her eyes. He thought he had made amends this year, but she was still so affected by his words of long ago?

“But you did. You did forsake me again this year. Excuse me.” Elizabeth stood and strode from the room, leaving him to attempt to connect the pieces of their conversation.

She felt he had forsaken their friendship again. As surely as he had two and a half years ago. That time, he had spoken words he should not have and then disappeared—How had he been so blind? She had taken his sudden absence from London in June as another abandonment. Elizabeth thought he had left to get away from her, as he had done before. She could not know how fully he had been avoiding her when he left two years ago, but in June he had again left without a word. No, he had sent a note to Bingley and later one to her uncle. Why would she think he had forsaken their friendship? And more importantly, how could he convince her it was not true?

Chapter Fifty-Two

Darcy had gone to check with Matthew a couple of hours after breakfast and learned Elizabeth had a megrim. He stalked about Netherfield’s public rooms all day in hopes of seeing her, but she remained in her chamber. She would likely not see him and then would leave the house in the morning. Frustrated and unable to ride hard across the fields as he would have liked, he continued walking inside. He stopped abruptly in a third-floor passageway when he saw her late that afternoon. This was Netherfield’s picture gallery, sparse though it was, and Elizabeth was standing in front of a painting halfway down the corridor.

He walked to her quickly, praying she would not leave, but she remained unmoving. He stopped only two feet from her side.

“Elizabeth, please allow me to apologize and to explain more fully why I departed London so hastily in June.”

She turned her whole body toward him, and he noted with regret that her eyes were red and her cheeks flushed.

“Forgive me, is your head feeling better?”

She nodded. “I have seen nobody else up here in the past half hour. Shall we go down to the others?”

“Wait, I beg you. If you wish to know what happened in June, we must have privacy.”

She swallowed and nodded. Something in her eyes told him she already knew why he left, but she did not. She still thought he had left to be free of her.

“Will you sit?” he indicated a bench long enough for three, and he settled a few inches from her. He did not know how to begin, but he had to tell her. He rested his forearms on his knees and clasped his hands in front of him, looking at the rug.

“It was my sister, as I said before. My cousin Anne, the one in Kent, had been writing to her, and Georgie told Anne things she never told me.” He swallowed and glanced at Elizabeth before turning away again. She watched him earnestly but made no comment.

“Anne…” He inhaled deeply and exhaled. He was surprised when he felt Elizabeth’s hand on his back, and he stiffened. She immediately removed her hand, but he could scarcely breathe again. Was that a friendly gesture? Or more? She had rarely touched him in all their years of acquaintance, yet she had put her hand on his arm her first evening downstairs, as well. As much as he wanted to dwell on this development and bask in the warmth he still felt on his back from her touch, this was not the time. He took another breath and forged ahead.

“Anne wrote to me some of my sister’s words and sent me part of one of her letters. They left me with no doubt that my sister believed herself in…in love. She was being courted, yet she had mentioned nothing of a man to me; nor had her companion, Mrs. Younge.” He gritted his teeth as he said the woman’s name.

He looked at Elizabeth then. She sat still and quiet, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes wide with concern. He turned his gaze back to the floor.

“I was gone in half an hour. I sent the museum tickets to Bingley with a note and rode to Ramsgate, reaching my sister late that same night.”

Darcy sat back and turned toward Elizabeth. “That morning at the Foundling Hospital, when you showed me the children who love you so much…” He almost smiled at the memory of the way the boys and girls of all ages had greeted her eagerly and hung on her every word. “I was so happy you had shared that part of your life with me. As soon as I returned home that day, though, I read Anne’s letter. That is why I had to leave. And then I could not return because Georgiana needed me. You see, the man she…the man who seduced her and convinced her to elope with him was George Wickham.”

Elizabeth gasped. “No. Poor Miss Darcy. Is she well?”

“Physically, he did no more than kiss her. But emotionally, she is suffering even now. She remembered him from her childhood, when he and I were friends. She never knew the villain he is. Forgive me, I know you cared for him, too, but he does not deserve⁠—”

“Did I not tell you I did not care for him?” Her eyes flashed in anger. At himself or at Wickham? She took a calming breath. “I understand how Miss Darcy must have felt. Poor, dear girl. But when I said I thought he was my last chance, I meant something else. You see, my Uncle Bennet has always said I would marry a gentleman. He requires it, in fact. But you know better than anyone that I cannot.”