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***
Mr. Darcy had departed. Dinner had been eaten, and the evening port had been consumed. Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle had just bid everyone good night. Elizabeth was alone with her father for the first time that day.
He had been reading the newspaper, but now he was just staring into the dwindling flames of the fireplace. The silence was thick and uncomfortable.
“Are you very angry with me, Papa?” she asked.
His head shook slowly. “Mostly I am angry with myself for pushing you into such defiance.” He chuckled. “I should have known better. You never take the easy path.”
She gave him a wan smile. “I suppose not.”
“When I received your uncle’s letter, my only thought was to come to London and rescue from that dreadful man.” He rubbed his face with a weary hand. “It did not occur to me that you did not wish to be rescued.”
He did not intend his words as a barb, but Elizabeth winced nonetheless. She rose from the settee and seated herself on the ottoman opposite her father’s chair. The fire gently warmed one side of her body while the other grew cooler.
Her father spoke before she had a chance to gather her thoughts. “I did not realize you held Mr. Darcy in such high esteem.”
Elizabeth blinked. It was true that her opinion of the man had changed considerably in only a day. The last twenty-four hours had been a wild ride. “I did not initially, but I have since learned that much of what we know of him is a lie.”
“But what of his cruelty toward Mr. Wickham?”
Elizabeth stared at the fire, choosing her words carefully. “I spoke with Miss Darcy. While I am not at liberty to disclose the substance of that conversation, suffice it to say, she made it clear that Mr. Wickham is by no means a respectable man. I am quite happy I dissolved our engagement.”
“And you trust the story?”
Elizabeth thought of Miss Darcy’s trembling hands and broken voice as she told her tale. “I do.”
Her father leaned forward, taking both her hands in his. “If you were deceived by Mr. Wickham, then I was as well.”
Elizabeth bowed her head. “It was horrifying to learn how wrong I had been.”
“It must have been quite a blow.” Her father stroked her hair gently.
“My judgment has been quite flawed.” Her stomach did a sickly lurch as she recalled exactly how flawed. “That is why I ask you to give Mr. Darcy a second chance.”
“Do you plan to accept his offer, then?” he asked, his brow creased with concern. Somehow the past day had aged her father.
Elizabeth bit her lip, worrying a ring on her finger. “I plan to make no decision immediately. I believe I was overly hasty in accepting Mr. Wickham.” And she had nearly ruined her future. Elizabeth could not help but be grateful to Mr. Darcy for preventing such a disaster.
“I intend to take the time to become familiar with Mr. Darcy. However, my opinion of him has improved upon further acquaintance.” Her eyes met her father’s. “The same may happen with you.”
He squeezed her hands. “Perhaps. I will try to become further acquainted with him.”
“Thank you, Papa.”
***
Caroline Bingley sniffed disdainfully at the bench before removing a handkerchief from her reticule, wiping the offending object, and gingerly taking a seat. Her gown was most expensive; she would be quite vexed if it was soiled.
She was not particularly fond of the out of doors, but if she must be exposed to the elements at this time of year, she should at least be in Hyde Park where the company was congenial. Unfortunately, today’s rendezvous could not be witnessed by anyone she knew, so she was forced to wait on this miser
able scrap of land near the river.
And, naturally, Mr. Wickham was late again. She fumed in silence for several minutes, watching every passerby eagerly in hopes of seeing his face. Finally, he strolled into view, his hands stuffed insouciantly in his pockets.
Caroline bit back the impulse to snap at him; he was not a servant to be ordered around. But she wished she could voice her opinion of his rumpled clothes and overly long hair. He was reputed to be charming with women, but Caroline did not find him at all attractive.
Mr. Wickham settled next to her and draped one arm over the back of the bench. She stiffened at this familiarity but said nothing. Unfortunately, she needed this odious man’s cooperation.
