Page 84 of Attempted Compromises
“You were a fool,” he interrupted, his grip loosening even more. “Elizabeth Bennet was still awake when I entered the house. Wehadto run.”
“What?” Caroline let out a howl of frustration, and his fingers tightened on her arms once again. “I cannot believe this happening to me. My life is over!”
“Not all is lost. You have still have a way— the only way— out of this mess. Marry me, and we salvage what we can. You’ll have a husband, and together we can weather the storm. People will forget, eventually.”
The words hung in the air, absurd and offensive. For a moment, she could only stare at him, her disbelief giving way to derisive laughter. “Marry you?” she spat, her voice dripping with scorn. “I would sooner rot in a convent than marry the son of a steward.”
Wickham’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t strike back at her insult. Instead, he leaned closer, his eyes dark and glittering. “A steward’s son? Is that what you think I am?” He leaned forward, his gaze locking onto hers. “What if I told you I’m more than that?”
“More?” she repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism.
Wickham’s lips twitched, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. “I have a secret, Caroline. One that changes everything.”
Caroline stiffened, suspicion flickering in her eyes. “What secret?”
Wickham’s expression darkened, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “I am the illegitimate son of George Darcy, the late master of Pemberley.”
Caroline blinked, the words failing to register at first. “You’re lying,” she said flatly.
“It’s true,” he retorted, seizing the moment. “My mother, a servant at Pemberley, told me everything. I was meant to inherit.”
“You would have claimed your birthright before now,” she scoffed.
“There is a unique clause in the will— I must marry before Darcy does,” Wickham said, his expression growing serious. “If I wed first, Pemberley becomes mine. The Darcys always honor their promises, even to illegitimate heirs.”
Her breath caught, her mind racing to process his words. “Why should I believe you?”
“Why would I lie?” he countered smoothly. “Think about it, Caroline. Have I not always been close to the Darcy family? Do I not resemble George Darcy in certain ways? My mother swore it was true, and I’ve no reason to doubt her. With you as my wife, we would claim Pemberley together.”
She eyed him warily, her sharp mind sifting through his words for any sign of falsehood.Could it be true?A flicker of doubt was immediately followed by a surge of hope. “Why haven’t you married before now, then? If what you say is true, you could have claimed Pemberley years ago.”
Wickham’s expression softened, and he released her arms to reach down and take her hand, his touch gentle. “Because I hadn’t met anyone worth settling down for. I wanted love, Caroline.” His blue eyes met hers, and for the first time, she thought she saw something genuine in his expression. “Pemberley means nothing without someone to share it with, but it needed to be therightperson.”
Her breath caught, and she looked away, trying to suppress the warmth his words stirred in her, her disbelief warring with the heat of his caresses, which were now creeping up past her wrist. “And yet you were willing to help me compromise Darcy. Was that your idea of love?”
His face darkened with what appeared to be genuine emotion. “Because I loved you. I thought you wanted Darcy, and I was willing to step aside if it meant your happiness. But when I saw how he treated you, how he dismissed you as if you were nothing while he sniffed around that annoying Bennet girl… I couldn’t let it happen.”
Her throat tightened, the raw emotion in his voice unsettling her. For the first time, she hesitated long enough to take him seriously.Could he be telling the truth?Heart racing, she was torn between disbelief and something so dangerously close to seduction. His words, his touch—everything about him was socarefully calculated, so perfectly attuned to her vulnerabilities. But she wanted to believe him, desperately.
As she debated within herself, Wickham’s hands found her upper arms again, but this time his touch was light instead of bruising, almost soothing. His thumbs traced gentle circles against her skin, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Caroline, we can still have everything. Pemberley, a future together. Say yes, and I’ll take you to Scotland. In just a day’s time, we’ll be married, and no one will dare question our claim. And when we return, we’ll be unstoppable.”
She looked up at him, her chest tightening. Could this really be her salvation? Could she still have everything she had ever wanted? His words wove a seductive web around the murky clouds in her mind, still foggy from the laudanum-laced tea she’d imbibed. His fingers brushed against her neck, his thumbs tracing light circles that sent a shiver down her spine.
“How far is it to Gretna Green?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
“About two more days,” he said, his lips curving into a triumphant smile. “By the time we return to Meryton as husband and wife, we’ll have only been gone a week. You’ll be my bride, and Pemberley will be ours.”
He leaned closer, his hand sliding to cup her cheek. “Say yes, Caroline.”
Her walls crumbled, the weight of her ruin pressing down on her. She nodded, her voice trembling. “Yes.”
Wickham’s smile widened as he cupped her face, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. When she didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened, his arms wrapping around her in a way that made her forget her anger, her doubts, even her dignity.
For now, all that mattered was the promise of Pemberley.Perhaps, she thought hazily as she melted into his embrace,this is my once chance at happiness. Perhaps ruin can be turned into triumph after all.
Chapter 24
Elizabeth adjusted her shawl as she walked beside Jane toward the housekeeper’s room, her steps echoing softly on the polished wooden floor. Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley followed a few paces behind, their quiet conversation blending harmoniously with the calm atmosphere of Netherfield. Despite the serenity of the house, Elizabeth could feel Jane’s nervousness radiating like a faint tremor.
