Page 68 of The Widower of Pemberley

“To hurt your brother,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “And to spread slander and lies. Do you not see that you must shoot him because he said that?”

Darcy replied, “No one can think that what he said is true.”

Elizabeth coughed slightly. She covered her mouth to hide a smile. “It was, without Mr. Wickham’s words to encourage it, taken as the undoubted truth in the neighbourhood until we became engaged, at which point it became a scurrilous piece of gossip which no one had ever believed.”

Darcy sighed. He could not feel the anger he ordinarily would.

“Darcy, you cannot be serious,” the colonel said. “I scarce believe it—you cannot mean to avoid the fight.”

“I do.”

“It is a shameful thing.” His cousin glared at him, and Darcy felt the full force of his judgment.

Perhaps it was cowardly to fear the consequences to Emily and Georgiana if he died. Perhaps it was weak to not intend to kill his man instead.

Darcy calmly held his cousin’s eyes until the colonel let out an unhappy gust of air.

“You are still my cousin,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “By Jove I wish you had not vomited out the fire in your belly.” He looked at Elizabeth and Georgiana. “This is why one should not listen to women. I seldom do.”

“Why would you fight George?” Emily asked.

“Because he was not nice to me,” Darcy said.

“But we must always be kind to everyone,” Emily replied.

The group returned to the drawing room.

Mr. Phillips had arrived while they had been absent. That gentleman had a genial look to him, even though he frowned most severely. “I have heard of a great to-do. Fighting, duels.” He chuckled. “Not very respectable, things of that sort.”

Elizabeth frowned at her uncle. “Papa needs you to help with the settlement documents. We are to marry this evening—shall we still marry this evening?”

Darcy nodded.

He wondered what had made her wonder whether he had changed his mind. “Yes, certainly. There is no benefit to waiting.”

“Very good, very good.” Mr. Phillips took the leather case from the table next to Mr. Bennet and began to read through the papers in it, making ‘hmm’ sounds several times a minute.

Georgiana and Elizabeth returned to the pianoforte; Darcy assumed his sister wished to speak at greater length to Elizabeth.

He watched them surreptitiously.

They whispered together, then Georgiana started crying, and tears dripped onto the keys as she played a lovely reel.

Darcy approached the instrument.

“I know he’s not good!” Georgiana exclaimed to him as he came close. “Must you force me to say it?”

Elizabeth hugged her. “I only care that you know it.”

“Did he really…?” Georgiana asked. “How do you know?”

“It is not an appropriate matter to describe in detail.”

She smashed the keys down. “Lord! I hate that! Hate it! I deserve to know, not to be…be coddled. Treated like a soft pillow. I must know! What are the details? It was all Mary’s fault, depend upon it—I would not have been unhappy with you, even if youhadthrown her from that balcony. Do you really mean that you will not fight him?”

“I shall not fight Wickham, but you must understand that he is an immoral, untrustworthy man whom you cannot speak to again.”

“How did you find out?Hesaid that he never did it. Did Mary tell you?”