Page 62 of Penned By Mr Darcy
If Darcy had been in a lighter mood, he might have smiled at Bingley’s sudden coarse boldness. Instead, he merely placed his hand over his friend’s, grateful for loyalty.
“This is my fault,” Darcy muttered. “If I had just controlled myself, Miss Elizabeth would have nothing to fear.”
Bingley studied him.
“What now?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What will you do?”
Darcy turned from him, his jaw clenched.
“Will you marry her? You said that you kissed her – and from what I can gather, it was no mere peck. I do not think you to be the same sort of man as him, but one must ask why you were kissing a girl you had no intentions towards.”
The words struck him like an arrow. He inhaled sharply.
“Do you think so little of me? I proposed to her. She said no. Now we must solve this problem, and then I will remove myself from her life forever.”
“She refused you?”
“She did.”
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
Silence settled between them, heavy as lead. The only sound was the soft crackle of the fire.
“So, what happens now?” Bingley asked gently.
“All that can happen is that I see this business with Wickham concluded,” Darcy said, his voice low, final, “and then I never see her again.”
“If that is what you want, then I cannot stop you.”
“It is.”
“Then let us find a way to rid this place of the scourge, and then you may take your leave.” Bingley squeezed his shoulder oncemore, his voice softening. “I will be sorely disappointed to see you go, Darcy.”
“I am not dying, Bingley. You will see me again.”
“Not often enough, I fear. You will bury yourself in Pemberley, shut away with your books and your sister, and I shall be left to endure Caroline without your help.”
Darcy’s lips twitched despite himself.
“I daresay marriage will occupy you well enough.”
“True,” Bingley said with a faint smile. Then, more seriously, “Darcy, do not let pride govern you so completely. If you love her, you must…”
“Enough,” Darcy said sharply, though his chest constricted at the truth in Bingley’s words. “This is not about love. It is about honour. I have already failed her once. I shall not again.”
Chapter Eighteen
Elizabeth
Her sister, for the first time in Lizzy’s memory, was wrong.
The days that followed brought with them a biting gossip throughout Meryton. It was not about Elizabeth herself, rather that a young lady had been seen in an embrace with an unknown man in a field. It was a warning, she thought; Wickham had shown the power of his words, that he was capable of spreading what he had seen just as easily as he had threatened.
