Page 58 of A Quiet Affection

“Yes. Yes, do tell her. I will tell my father later today, I think.”

Lizzy nodded.

She took a deep breath, clearly trying to settle herself.

“I have every confidence in you,” Darcy said to her.

With a small laugh, Lizzy stood up. “I keep a letter where you said nearly the same to me stored. Though I can’t read it, it has always been amongst my most precious belongings—this all feels as though it is a dream. Did we really agree to get married?”

“Yes.”

“And…and you shall not—but I know you shall not. I have every confidence inyou. And if I love you so dearly, I cannot have any reason to be surprised that you can love me. We are too dearly friends.”

“We will always be such dear friends.”

“I wish I did not need to speak to Jane. I wish I could just disappear.”

Lizzy’s hand sought out Darcy’s, and he took it and kissed it. “I shall be with you.”

Chapter Seventeen

When Elizabeth and Darcy stepped into Pemberley’s big drawing room, Darcy hissed. “Wickham.”

Elizabeth guessed that Wickham must wish to either tell his own tale first, or to be ready to smear her character if she or Fitzwilliam said anything about what had happened. It did not matter.Sheneed not fear him.

It was Jane. It was Jane who must fear.

Old Mr. Darcy’s weakened voice called out, “Fitzwilliam, where have you been all this time? You see George has returned already. If you insist on remaining at Pemberley to watch me die, at least remain about.”

“I apologize,” Darcy replied. “There was a matter of importance which required my attention.”

Darcy watched Wickham like he might a poisonous snake.

The man’s countenance was untroubled.

Someone who did not know him might guess that there was nothing amiss for him. Except, Wickham’s hand wildly tapped on his leg in that way that he always did when he made any serious bluff at cards.

It was a great part of why he so consistently lost money at the table.

George Wickham was not unduly anxious.

Greenstead had been signed over to him, and he believed that even if Fitzwilliam convinced Mr. Darcy to wholly cease favoring of him, his patron could not reverse the gift. He did not need Jane’s high opinion. If she became angry at him, he would actin such a manner as to force her to understand that he was the master of the house, and that he would be treated as such.

He could beat his wife, if it proved necessary, though he hoped she would not force that from him, as it would reduce his respectability as a gentleman.

As he walked back to Pemberley, Wickham had decided on what he would say to question Elizabeth’s character and Fitzwilliam’s rationality. He had things he could say. Some of them were even true. Mr. Darcy would understand.

He would make Mr. Darcy understand.I wouldnevertry to seduce a blind girl, or the sister of my wife. No, no, no. I am not that sort of man. Dear Mr. Darcy, you know who I am, you know my character, and my love for you.

Shekissed him, and he stopped her.

That was what Fitzwilliam saw.

Elizabeth had been in love with him, and everyone knew she was a spirited woman, prone to impulsive action. She never thought in the serious way that a young gentlewoman ought to. It was the fault of the early education she received from her father, who, as good of a man as he had been, had awful notions about what to teach young women. It was the fault of no one living that Mr. Darcy’s steady work had been insufficient to correct her character.

We all remembered how she had thrown such a crying fit when she was not allowed to readTom Jonesthe very first week after she’d arrived at Pemberley. There was no surprise that Miss Elizabeth allowed her curiosity—it was nothing worse than that—to gain the better of her.

Wickham imagined himself saying to his wife, in the most serious and somber tones—the voice he would have used tocomfort the relations of the dying if he’d been given the living:Dear Jane, do not think so ill of your sister.