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When the scoundrel tried to contact her several weeks later, you can imagine what I said and how I felt.

I did threaten him and send him away, and I asked for Richard’s help to sort out the legal matters with the girls’ birth certificates and to dissolve the bogus marriage.

Richard still keeps tabs on the man through his law enforcement connections.

In fact, that’s why he came to see me the other morning.

He had reason to believe that Wickham was in the area and wanted to warn me.

In retrospect, I now believe I should have warned you too, but I honestly didn’t think you would ever have to lay eyes on the man.

I had no idea he would have the nerve to show up in Meryton again.

He must be desperate indeed, and desperate men are often dangerous.

I beg you, Elizabeth, stay away from him.

I know what he is capable of, and if he hurt you, I would never forgive myself.

That day I saw you standing with him on the street, I was genuinely frightened.

As it is with many people, my fear often expresses itself as anger, and I had little control over myself the night we had our argument.

I’m sorry, very much so, for assaulting your person when I kissed you.

It was unforgivable, and I want to reassure you that it will never happen again.

I will try to find a way of putting this letter in your hands this morning. Perhaps there is some way we can move past this and restore our marriage, such as it is. But if not, at some point, I suppose we will need to decide what your living arrangements will be.

I will only add, God bless you.

Your husband,

William Darcy

Elizabeth read her husband’s letter three times in a row, not trusting herself to absorb it all the first time through.

She seethed with anger at his brusque dismissal of Jane and her family’s concerns.

How dare he take so much upon himself where Mr. Bingley was concerned!

And for that matter, how dare Mr. Bingley be so weak-willed as to listen?

The story of George Wickham, though, truly disturbed her.

Elizabeth had always thought herself a good judge of character, but she had to admit the man had taken her in.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized Wickham had seduced her mind, as surely as he had seduced Georgiana’s heart.

He was a criminal, a prolific liar—and a very effective one too—all wrapped up in a handsome and charming package.

Wickham included just enough truth to make his lies of omission seem believable.

His supposed affection for Georgiana now seemed malevolent and twisted.

Elizabeth’s heart ached for her sweet, shy sister-in-law.

To have her heart so completely broken, her trust so violated!

Elizabeth’s hatred for Wickham began to swell in her breast. And Maggie!

What kind of monster would strike that beautiful child, terrifying her so that she wouldn’t speak to anyone and was deathly afraid of all men, even her devoted Unca?

Elizabeth felt almost sick with outrage.

Her husband’s image rose in her mind, and she saw him cast in a very different light from just a day ago.

Yes, he should have told her about Wickham, but she had jumped to hasty conclusions about his silence.

What had seemed to her to be pride and a desire to protect his reputation in the community was really a desire to protect his sister from the effects of abuse.

It explained some of his guarded nature around people he didn’t know well, although she suspected that reserve was an ingrained part of his personality even before the situation with Georgiana occurred.

With chagrin, she remembered how suspicious she was of his solicitous treatment of her when they first married.

She assumed he had some ulterior motive for treating her so kindly and wondered if that treatment would continue.

A smarter woman would have taken her cues about his kindness from his niece.

Remembering how Maggie’s eyes lit up whenever she greeted him with a delighted “Unca!” Elizabeth marveled at the kindness and patience William must have shown the little girl.

Through the force of his love for her, and the security he provided, he had counteracted Wickham’s abuse and neglect.

He had basically adopted Georgiana’s children, as Miss Bingley had said, and taken a father’s responsibility for them.

No wonder he thought he knew what was best for them.

No wonder that Georgiana gave him so much leeway.

He had saved her and her children from despair, and she was grateful.

Elizabeth had a newfound respect for her sister-in-law—to leave the security of her brother’s house and move to the cottage must have taken a great deal of courage after what she had endured.

It also spoke highly of her independent spirit, and her love for her brother—she wanted to give him room to start his own family.

Elizabeth felt a myriad of conflicting emotions for her husband: anger for his bullheadedness about Jane, pity for the early loss of his parents’ guidance, and pride in his loyalty to his sister and her daughters.

She felt sorrow for the loneliness he had endured after Anne’s death and Georgiana’s disappearance, contempt for his haughtiness towards her family, gratitude for his kindness to herself, and most of all, an undeniable fascination in the complexity of his personality.

To have had the possibility of attaining the affection of such a man, and then to have thrown it away due to her own prejudices against him, made Elizabeth feel miserable and ashamed.

How she regretted her hurtful words! She had accused him of being too quick to judge others based on outward appearances, but was she not just as guilty as he?

Until this moment, she had never truly known herself, and the knowledge she had gained was troubling.

What was she to do?Should she go home and beg him to take her back? Did he really want her to come back, or did he no longer think her worth the trouble she had caused him? Would he want to divorce her? Should she simply await her fate at his hands?

His hands.She wriggled uncomfortably as memories of his hands came, unbidden, into her mind.

His hands firmly and gently holding a terrified horse, his hand covering hers in a protective gesture while they walked up the aisle after their wedding ceremony, his hands pouring bourbon whiskey into a glass, holding her as they danced to Night and Day .

His hands summoning an ecstatic delirium from her body she had never imagined could exist. She began to ache for him, in her body, in her heart.

It was simply right to be with him. She couldn’t explain it, but neither could she deny it.

He was her husband; she was his wife; and they should be together.

She needed his quiet strength; he needed her liveliness and spirit.

She began to tremble as she realized what was happening to her.

Somehow—in this sleepy backwater town, this marriage of convenience—she had stumbled into her soul mate.

She had fallen in love with her husband, a man who didn’t love her as she now loved him, and who was possibly reconsidering his decision to marry her.

He might not want anything else to do with her ever again.

Hadn’t he mentioned separate living arrangements in his letter?

As she read back over his final paragraph, her heart shattered.

She leaned back against the tree and began to cry.