Page 42 of To Win Her Affections

“Do not blame yourself, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, rousing herself to look at him. “My father should have curbed her exuberance, denied permission for her to go. My mother should not have indulged her. Even Lydia herself must bear the greatest part of the blame for having so little sense as to run off with him.”

“Yet if I had denounced him in the streets of Meryton, he could not have eloped with her.”

It was clear he thought it was reasonable, and Elizabeth could not deny it. But there was blame enough to go around, and Elizabeth did not mean to allow him to take it all on his shoulders.

“If you wish to apportion blame,” said Elizabeth, “I should have informed my family of Mr. Wickham’s worthlessness when I returned home from Kent.”

“Would your sister have listened to you?”

It was a blunt question. Elizabeth did not blame him for saying it, though she knew he had the right of it.

“We will never know.”

“You have not called for your uncle’s return?” asked Mr. Darcy.

“No,” replied Elizabeth. “You came upon me before I had any thought of what must be done. I do not suppose a matter of a few minutes will make any difference.”

Mr. Darcy nodded and sat at the table again. “That is the next matter we must discuss, Miss Bennet. Your uncle will wish to leave at once when he returns.”

Elizabeth nodded, feeling bone weary. “Yes. Though I have dithered, our departure today is a necessity. It will, of course, prevent me from seeing your dear sister again.”

“Do not consider that for an instant, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy. “There will be other opportunities.”

Confused, Elizabeth looked up. Seeing the utter compassion in his expression, she found she could not meet his gaze and looked down again.

“There is no need to soften the blow, Mr. Darcy. This business with Lydia will ruin much—I doubt I have even begun to count the cost.”

SHE THINKS I MEAN TO leave and never look back.

The notion hit Darcy like a kicking horse, and he stared at her, wondering at her continued ability to misunderstand him.

Then reason reasserted itself. Anyone would believe it—the loss of virtue in a sister would affect Miss Bennet and all her family. No man of good morals and reputation would wish to associate with them.

Except a man in love.

Misunderstanding, he knew, was not Miss Bennet’s sole territory. Darcy had never understood her as well as he should have, from her antipathy toward him in Hertfordshire and Kent, to his utter failure to anticipate her rejection at Hunsford. That Miss Bennet did not understand him now was nothing less than logical, especially given Wickham’s involvement.

The question was not whether he should involve himself, but how he could do it properly. Should society ever learn that he had acted against Wickham in this instance, all manner of rumors would arise. It would be even worse than if the knowledge of Miss Lydia’s disgrace became known to all society—Darcy shuddered at the thought of what they would say about Miss Elizabeth herself.

Then he knew. There was a way that he could act yet excite no additional commentary. All he needed was a connection to the family—the route to that was through this precious woman before him. Had Darcy thought she was unwilling, he would have tried to find another way. Her behavior these past days, however, told the story of warmer feelings and increased interest. Darcy was not so foolish as to suppose her attachment was the equal of his, but he thought it existed, nonetheless.

“Miss Bennet,” said Darcy, “we need to discuss this rationally.”

When she looked up, Darcy gave her a soft smile that she returned, though hesitantly. “You may say that what I am about to suggest is not rational.”

“What do you mean?” asked she, her forehead creased in confusion.

“That I am the best positioned to find Wickham and your sister. Wickham’s habits are no mystery to me, and I know something of his acquaintances, his haunts, and where he might go for succor.”

“Yes, you are correct,” said Miss Bennet, “but you are not involved, Mr. Darcy, nor should you be. Mr. Wickham has done you so much harm. It is my family’s problem to solve.”

“And if I allow Wickham to do this and not call him to account, the harm done to me will extend to you and your family.” Darcy shook his head. “I shall not allow him to do this, Miss Bennet. The time for my leniency has passed, as it should have long ago. In this, I am quite determined.”

Darcy offered her a sly look. “When you come to know me better, I should think you will discover that obstinacy, not pride, is my true failing.”

Though she offered him a tentative smile, she proved she could also be stubborn. “It is not sound, Mr. Darcy.”

“There is nothing unsound about it,” insisted Darcy. “I am the best positioned to deal with Wickham. Yet I have not done as I ought, which allowed this calamity to befall you; I must make amends. The only question is how it is to be done.”