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He started, colored, and quickly averted his eyes. “Yes, er”—he cleared his throat—“Wickham is dangerous. I am concerned about your continued association with him.”
She sighed. “Mr. Darcy, I believe we have had this conversation previously.”
His eyes returned to her, the flicker of the candlelight was reflected in their dark blue depths. “It has acquired new urgency with some news I received today. But first, you must tell me why you keep company with Wickham.”
“You are not my commanding officer. I must do no such thing.”
He flushed but did not desist. “Did he…force himself on you?”
“No!” Good Lord, had he actually envisioned such a horrible fate? How much anxiety had she occasioned the man?
His brows knitted together. “Then why do you seek his company?” His weight shifted, bringing him a little closer to her half of the bed. “You are too sensible, too clever to befriend a man you cannot respect.”
Despite the uncomfortable situation, the compliments warmed her heart. Still, she did not reply; she could not give him the truth and did not want to dishonor him with a lie.
“Elizabeth?” he prompted. “You cannot tell me you are in love with him.”
Her lips twisted in a rueful smile. “I suppose I cannot.”
After another long pause he took a gentler tone. “You may confide in me. I will keep your confidences.”
After a moment’s consideration, she shook her head; they were not her confidences to share. While she did not believe Mr. Darcy had colluded with Mr. Wickham—otherwise he would hardly be in her bedchamber demanding answers—she knew the colonel would be particularly appalled if she shared the truth with this man.
Mr. Darcy swore under his breath, his hands clenching into fists. “Elizabeth, you do not understand the danger! You must avoid the man!”
“And I repeat that I do not take orders from you.”
The man made a noise of frustration. “You do not know how dangerous he is!”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. Was it possible he spoke of more than Mr. Wickham’s dissolute character? “You must be more specific, sir, if you wish to persuade me.”
Mr. Darcy sighed, and his eyes roamed about the room as if the answers might hang on the walls. “Very well. The Home Office believes him to be an agent of Napoleon’s.”
“How do you know that?” The words burst from Elizabeth, immediately dashing any hope of concealing her shock.
Mr. Darcy’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “You knew!”
There was no reason to dissemble now. Although she had betrayed her promise, she could not help experiencing a profound sense of relief. Lying to Mr. Darcy had been profoundly uncomfortable. Elizabeth nodded wearily. “Yes, Colonel Forster informed me in Meryton.”
Understanding dawned on the man’s face. “The colonel asked you to observe Wickham and report on his activities.”
“Indeed. He hoped I could collect information about the man’s operation.”
Mr. Darcy blew out a long breath. “So you harbor no tender feelings for Wickham?”
“No, I assure you that pretending friendship has been a chore indeed.”
“Why did you not inform me? I would have gladly rendered assistance!”
Her hands plucked at the coverlet. “I promised the colonel I would reveal the truth to no one.”
“But—!”
His attitude irked Elizabeth. “You are not entitled to such information, as you are neither my father nor an agent of the Home Office.”
Mr. Darcy’s shoulders sagged. “You are correct…as usual, Miss Elizabeth. I wish to be concerned with your affairs, but I do not have that privilege.”
Elizabeth immediately regretted the harshness of her words. “I do appreciate your concern for my wellbeing.”
