Page 51 of A Different Impression

She studied him for a moment. “And how do you feel?”

“Relieved, I think,” he replied after a slight hesitation. “Does that make me terrible? He has chosen military service rather than imprisonment and may be killed in battle, although I can imagine him attempting to desert just as easily. Regardless, he will be removed from our lives and, I hope, rendered incapable of injuring anyone in my family again.”

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tightly. “I do love you, William, not least for the sense of honour with which you approach everything. Dealing with Wickham must have been difficult, if for no other reason than that your father loved him. He would surely have been disappointed by what Wickham became, but you have acted honourably to protect those whom he might otherwise have injured.”

“You paint my character in a generous light, my love. I am not certain I deserve it,” he replied, dropping a kiss upon her forehead.

They remained that way for several minutes before Elizabeth reluctantly ventured to change the subject.

“William, may I ask a small favour concerning Mr Bingley?”

He drew back enough to look at her. “Of course.”

“I do not wish you to question him about his feelings, nor would Jane welcome our interference. However, his frequent visits to Longbourn and his request for Jane’s hand for the first set at the ball are certain to attract notice. If his intentions are not serious, he may not realise that such marked attention could raise expectations or expose her to gossip.”

William grew thoughtful. “He visited Longbourn frequently while we were in London as well, did he not?”

“He did.”

“I confess I have given little thought to how his behaviour might appear. I can remind him generally that repeated attentions towards an unmarried lady are likely to be interpreted as courtship. I need not ask him to disclose his feelings or tell him what he ought to do.”

“Thank you, dearest.”

“I am no good at subtlety, Elizabeth, as you well know.”

Her merry laugh rang out, bringing a smile to his face. “I do enjoy your lack of subtlety—or should we call it your honesty? Shall we make it a virtue rather than a failing?”

His own laughter joined hers. “Oh, please do, my dear Elizabeth. From now on, you shall be in charge of my character and do all you can to promote it so that I appear to the best advantage.”

“And you shall do the same for me, sir?” she enquired.

He kissed her. “You always appear to the best advantage, dearest. I need do nothing to aid in that.”

CHAPTER 22

The Wedding

Darcy had allowed himself to believe that Wickham’s departure would bring an end to the troubles threatening his family. Richard had left early on Saturday to oversee Wickham’s journey towards the coast, and once that man was safely delivered into the custody of his new regiment, Darcy hoped never to hear his name again.

That hope lasted only until Monday morning, when an express arrived from Lord Matlock.

Darcy retired to Netherfield’s library to read his uncle’s letter in private. By the time he reached the final page, he had been forced to sit down, scarcely able to comprehend all his uncle had disclosed.

Lady Catherine had arrived in London with Anne in a dangerously weakened condition. The physician attending his cousin suspected that the tonic she had taken for years contained arsenic and had been the source of much, if not all, of her poor health. Worse still, Lord Matlock had begun investigating Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s will and discovered that Rosings should have passed into Anne’s control upon her twenty-fifth birthday. Lady Catherine had continued to exercise authority over the estate long after it should have passed to Anne.

The particulars concerning the solicitors, the trustees, and Lady Catherine’s interference were complicated, but Darcy understood enough to recognise the enormity of the situation. Anne had been deceived regarding her inheritance and might have been deliberately poisoned by her own mother. Although the physician had forbidden her to take any more of the tonic, years of exposure had left her terribly weakened. He could not yet predict how fully she might recover, but he warned that her improvement would likely be slow.

With so much still uncertain, his uncle did not yet know whether he and Lady Matlock would be able to attend the wedding. He was understandably reluctant to leave Anne, but even more uneasy about entrusting Lady Catherine to the servants.

His uncle also sought Darcy’s opinion on how they might contain the scandal without bringing formal charges against Lady Catherine. Although Uncle James was far more experienced in politics and the management of public scandal, he wished to know Darcy’s thoughts before deciding how the family should proceed.

Darcy read the letter twice before folding it with unsteady hands. He could offer his uncle no answers—certainly not without first speaking to Elizabeth.

Almost as soon as he had finished reading it, Darcy was on his way to Longbourn, seeking Elizabeth’s advice and, though he scarcely wished to admit how greatly he needed it, her comfort.

As he drew near the house, he saw Elizabeth outside. The instant she caught sight of him, her welcoming smile disappeared. She hurried forward before he had even dismounted.

“My love, what is wrong?” she asked.