Page 25 of Love Among the Shadows
He paused, his jaw tightening as if the recollection cost him dearly. "Rather than study, Wickham squandered the money. Gambling debts mounted, and his demands for more became relentless. I paid what I could to spare Pemberley’s name from disgrace, but it was never enough. His deceit knew no bounds."
At this, Lydia, who had been listening in wide-eyed silence, let out a sudden shriek. The sound startled everyone in the room, all eyes turning toward her.
"Lydia!" Mrs. Bennet cried, her face a picture of shock. "What is the meaning of this outburst? Control yourself, child!"
When the younger Bennet quieted herself, Darcy continued, though his voice had softened, carrying a weight that stilled the room more effectively than any outburst could.
“I should not speak of this,” he said, his gaze falling momentarily to the floor before lifting again, his eyes meeting Elizabeth’s with a rawness that startled her. There was no trace of the man she had once thought impenetrable, no trace of the pride that had so infuriated her. Instead, his expression was etched with something far deeper, something haunted. Pain, regret, and perhaps shame flickered across his features like shadows in candlelight.
“But I must,” he pressed on, the strain evident in the way his jaw tightened, his words measured and deliberate, as though each one cost him dearly to utter. “Wickham once attempted to elope with my sister. She was but fifteen at the time.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught, but she dared not look away. Darcy’s composure faltered for the briefest of moments, his lips pressing into a thin line before he continued, his voice growing quieter still.
“He sought her dowry,” he added, each word falling like a stone into the stillness. “We were fortunate to intercept them before it was too late.”
The tremor in his voice, though slight, betrayed the depth of his anguish. His eyes, dark and shadowed, held Elizabeth’s gaze with an intensity that left her momentarily speechless. There was no pride now, no defense of his actions—only the sorrow of a man carrying a burden he could not lay down.
Lydia let out another shriek, prompting Mr Bennet to rise from his chair, his expression stern. “Lydia, if you cannot control yourself, you will leave the room.”
Elizabeth sat frozen, her face drained of all colour, her mind reeling with disbelief. The words Darcy had spoken echoed in her ears like a relentless toll of a bell. Her heart, once resolute in its conviction against him, now wavered, battered by the weight of truth.
She barely registered Lydia’s sharp cry or her feeble attempt to mask her distress. Her gaze remained fixed on Darcy, her chest tight with a mixture of shame and confusion.
How could I have been so blind?
The thought struck her like a blow. Wickham’s charm, his easy smile, the artful sorrow in his words—all of it had played upon her sense of fairness and justice, feeding into her prejudice against Darcy. And she, proud of her discernment, had fallen for it completely.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she clenched her hands together, as though seeking to anchor herself. The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken tension, but Elizabeth could not tear her gaze from Darcy’s sombre expression.
The realisation washed over her, cold and unrelenting: she had been wrong. Gravely, dreadfully wrong.
“Is this why you’ve ccome, sir, to tell us of your plan?” Jane asked softly.
Darcy shook his head. “No. After Miss Bennet confronted me at the ball, I realized the danger she might be in. Tonight avail the killer another unintended target. If the killer doesn’t go after Wickham or if he is the killer himself, then Miss Bennet could be the next target.”
Mrs. Bennet gasped at this. “Oh, my nerves! Elizabeth, pack your things. You shall go to London and stay with your aunt and uncle!”
Mr Bennet nodded gravely. “I must agree. You’ve placed my daughter at risk, Mr Darcy.”
“I am sorry sir, but it was never my intention. I came here to warn you. I will stay to help protect her.”
Elizabeth, tears trembling at the corners of her lashes, drew a shaky breath before speaking. Her voice, though soft, resonated with remorse. "Mr Darcy, I cannot begin to express my regret. I accused you unjustly. I allowed myself to be deceived by Mr Wickham's charm, his easy manner, and his bitter tales. I was blinded by his lies and my own pride."
Her hands trembled as she clasped them before her. "I thought myself clever. I thought I could see through pretence and discern character, yet I failed miserably. I let my prejudice cloud my judgment, and worse, I spoke against you with such conviction, convinced that I knew the truth."
Darcy's gaze did not waver, though his expression softened with each word she uttered. Elizabeth pressed on, her voice faltering under the weight of her emotions.
"I believed him, not because of any proof, but because it suited my opinion of you. I saw your aloofness as arrogance, your reserve as disdain, and I thought myself justified in believing the worst. But I see now that I was grievously wrong. I misjudged you entirely, and for that, I am truly ashamed."
Her tears fell freely then, unchecked. "I should never have allowed myself to form such harsh opinions without seeking the truth. I wronged you, sir, in thought and in word, and I fear I have caused you great distress by my actions."
Mr Bennet, who had remained quiet, observing his daughter with a rare solemnity, nodded slightly. "Lizzy," he said gently, "it takes courage to admit one's mistakes."
Elizabeth turned to her father briefly, her eyes filled with gratitude, before returning her gaze to Darcy. "I do not seek forgiveness, for I know I do not deserve it. But I must say this: I am deeply sorry for all I have said and done to hurt you."
Darcy stepped forward then, his voice steady and quiet. "Miss Bennet, your words are more generous than I deserve. You are not alone in your misjudgement. I too have been guilty of pride and reserve, and I can see now how my manner may have given rise to misunderstandings."
He paused, the tension in the room easing as he continued. "We both, it seems, have allowed our first impressions to guide us. But let us leave the past where it belongs and move forward in truth."
