“What kind of greeting is that?” he asked. “You spend almost two weeks at Pemberley and you greet me with, ‘What are you doing here?’”
Elizabeth looked up at him, trying to read the expression on his face. His eyes betrayed his fatigue, and his creased brow revealed the days of frustration he must have experienced dealing with Wickham. But when his eyes turned to meet Elizabeth’s, she was surprised to see him smile. The sight stirred her deeply, and her heart responded with an ardent pulsing.
“Forgive my impertinence, but I trust you understand my meaning,” she answered quickly. Turning her eyes back to the path before them, she continued, “The last I saw you, I had just informed you about Wickham’s involvement in my sister’s dreadful behaviour. I believed you to be quite… incensed at the news. You departed immediately to return to Pemberley… and your guests!”
“True,” he said solemnly. “I was greatly incensed. And I did return to Pemberley, but only briefly. I knew that if anyone could find Wickham and your sister in London quickly and set matters to right, it would be me. I determined to set off immediately.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth but words did not come. She slowly shook her head as a myriad of thoughts and more questions assaulted her. She was finally able to utter, “But why would you do this? You had guests at Pemberley! You despise the man!”
“Hmmm, yes, on both counts,” he murmured. “Georgiana is likely entertaining the Goldsmiths and Hamilton as we speak. I suspect that by now, the Willstones have departed.”
Elizabeth lowered her head. “Their premature departure is due to the letter, is it not? I am terribly grieved over the… misunderstanding and mortification that letter must have caused,” Elizabeth said softly, feeling deep regret for her carelessness.
“It was not just the matter of the letter that prompted their departure. That misunderstanding merely gave them a convenient excuse to leave.” He stopped and let out a huff, combing his fingers roughly through his hair. “If ever I gave them… gave Miss Matthews… the impression that I…” He clenched his jaw and looked down. Softly and repentantly, he said, “It was not my intention to mislead or deceive anyone. I fear I do not always see these things clearly.”
A smile touched Elizabeth’s lips at his admission. It revealed a side of him that she found rather engaging. Here was a man who was so eligible, yet oblivious to the ladies who set their sights on him. It was very possible that he was unaware of even Caroline Bingley’s profuse admiration. Elizabeth sensed his discomfiture, however, and deemed it prudent to quickly change the subject.
“You departed Pemberley, yet the letter I received while at the Ketterlings informing me that the carriage would come the following day… it was written by you.”
His smile was tinged with guilt. “I wrote it before I departed for London, and I advised those who accompanied you not to inform you that I had been away.”
“But why?” Elizabeth asked as she stood looking up at him.
Darcy turned and began to walk again. He took a few steps away from her in silence, obviously weighing his words. Coming to a stop, he turned to look back at Elizabeth, who remained at a standstill. “I knew you would discourage any assistance from me if you knew my plans. It was my decision to keep you uninformed of my coming to London to find Wickham and your sister.”
“You had no reason to do all this. You were under no obligation to me, my family, and most of all, Mr. Wickham. What you have done for him… for my sister…” Elizabeth let out a disgusted sigh. “We both know how little Wickham deserves any such generosity.”
Darcy gazed down at her with a single brow raised. “That is why I did not wish for you to know. I have already acted, and yet still you state your argument for why I should not.” A smile appeared, giving Elizabeth the assurance that he knew her well.
His words and actions conspired to disarm Elizabeth. She looked down and shook her head. “But why would you do all this?”
“I had my reasons.”
He was obviously not going to explain. With questions still swirling in her head, she debated which one to ask next. She was grateful that Jane and Mr. Bingley were quite a distance ahead of them, but her voice softened as she asked her next question. “What are Mr. Bingley’s views on Lydia’s actions? Certainly he must have considered that if our family was tainted with disgrace, it would not be in his best interest to marry Jane.”
Darcy chuckled lightly under his breath. “My good friend Bingley is of a most peculiar nature. He is so easygoing and good-natured that he hardly ever anticipates any wrong occurring.” His voice became reflective, and he tilted his head at Elizabeth as he said, “I believe your sister is very much like him in that regard.”
Elizabeth murmured an assent.
Darcy turned and began walking again. He extended his arm to Elizabeth, silently inviting her to join him. She came up alongside of him, slipping her fingers around his arm.
Darcy continued. “When I arrived at your aunt and uncle’s house, Bingley and your sister were both overly confident that Wickham and Lydia would be found and the situation would not be as dire as first thought.” He looked down at Elizabeth and smiled. “On this occasion, I did not contradict them with my own conjectures, hoping—yet doubtful—it would progress as they both anticipated.”
“How soon did you find them?”
Darcy drew in a breath. “It was not until the following afternoon. I will spare you the details of how I came to find them. Suffice it to say that marriage was the only viable option.”
“So they are to marry then.” In frustration, she kicked a large pebble that lay in the path. “And how can you allow Wickham to stay at your London home?”
He pursed his lips slightly before answering. “Right now, he is tied up and gagged in one of the draughtiest rooms of the house. I allow him only bread and water and will keep him there until the day of the wedding.”
Now Elizabeth chuckled, but only briefly. “While I highly doubt that, it certainly would be what he deserves.”
Darcy shrugged.
“Pray, forgive me, Mr. Darcy, but I must inquire about the house. How can you justify providing them with such a gift? They are far too undeserving!”
Darcy let out a long breath. “While what I did may sound generous, I have implemented some very strict imperatives. As a matter of fact, the house does not belong to them and will never belong to them. It is in my name, and even if Wickham gambles away everything he owns, the house cannot be taken away. It sits on enough land with sufficient crops and several tenants who will supply a modest income for them. I have hired a reliable associate to be steward, and he will handle all the finances. Your sister will be safe.”
“But still, neither of them deserves this.”
Darcy halted his steps and turned to Elizabeth. “They deserve each other, and they will certainly get what they deserve.”
Elizabeth’s breath faltered, and she stopped and looked up at him as she realized his meaning. “Yes, I suppose they will…”
Darcy continued, “The home is large enough to accommodate the Wickhams, as well as your mother and two younger sisters if they choose to live there. They will no longer need to be at the mercy of your aunt and uncle in Meryton. This will improve their situation.”
“I hope they have expressed their gratitude.”
“Abundantly.”
“And Wickham has agreed to this?”
“It was the only way I would untie him.”
Elizabeth readily noticed the curl of his lips. “It pleases me—yet perplexes me—that you can jest after all that man has done. He ought to be locked up and the key thrown into the Thames!”
“We are of like mind in that,” Darcy offered. “Wickham agreed because he had no other recourse. He had far too many debts—most from gambling—and was about to be dismissed from his regiment for disciplinary reasons.”