Page 13 of A Good Memory is Unpardonable (Frolic and Romance #2)

Twelve

R ichard was my nearest cousin on my mother’s side, and consequently, we had grown close as boys.

Two years older than I, he was my opposite in nearly every way: loquacious where I was reserved, adventurous where I was cautious, and insightful in areas where I, admittedly, can be a bit oblivious.

Elizabeth has teased that between us, we make one tolerably good sort of man.

I knew he would be just the man to encourage my reckless suit of a woman who was, in the eyes of the rest of the world, perfectly unsuitable.

The way I had it in my head, he would be half in love with her within an hour of meeting her and would drag me to my room later with the threat of marrying her himself if I did not get on with it.

Therefore, I thought it must have been a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, when he finally gave me his impressions. He had been at Netherfield about a week by that time. We were enjoying a late night drink in his room, as we did quite often, and he was prowling about the floor.

“Do you know that Wickham has run up debts against all the local shopkeepers?”

“I am not surprised,” I answered.

“And there are rumors of misbehavior with some of their daughters, too.”

“I warrant he is not the only officer who could be accused of that.”

“So? You do not mean to do something about him?”

“I have done something,” I confessed, then I frowned. “Perhaps not enough, but I do not believe he will find any heiresses here to carry off.”

Richard sank into his chair. “Shall I have another chat with Colonel Forster? Keep a closer watch on the bounder?”

I lifted my shoulder. “It could not hurt if done discreetly. If you are thinking of something more drastic, kindly forget about it. It would only start rumors.”

“Then you had better do something about him yourself. I do not like him being so close. Let me take Georgiana back to London if you are worried about her, but his perfidy must be exposed. What other wrong has he been up to that you have the power to prevent?”

That stung, because he was right, and I knew it.

I had been paralyzed by fear of what might be said if I took some public action against Wickham.

My sense of dignity and my violent distaste for involving myself in anything so infamous warred with my sense of honor.

Indeed, I did have a duty, for all my history with Wickham put me in the position of the best person to curtail his wrongdoing.

“Very well,” I agreed heavily. “I will consider what is to be done.”

“About bloody time. Let me know if I need to arrange transport to Australia,” he grumbled. He made a face, then lifted his drink and fell silent.

I refilled my drink, then paced the room, trying to work up to what I had really meant to ask him. “Well,” I demanded after a few tense moments, “what… what do you think of Mrs. Bingley?”

He tipped back in his chair and sighed. “I wondered if she was the reason you summoned me here so urgently. You will not let me meet Wickham in a dark alley, and there seems to be nothing particularly wrong with Georgiana, so it must have something to do with that vivacious young widow.”

“Is it not obvious?”

“On your side, at least.”

I jerked straighter. “What does that mean?”

Richard grinned lazily and put up his feet on an ottoman.

“Darcy, I have known you since you were in leading strings. I have watched countless women parade before you, from the time you were old enough to know what to do with a woman. Never have you tolerated half the impertinences that woman dishes out, and all with a smile on your face.”

“You make me sound rather the fool,” I replied a little stiffly.

He shrugged.

“She is not rude or cruel—rather, she is probably the kindest woman of my acquaintance. Her impertinence is a part of her charm. How can you, of all people, fail to appreciate her liveliness, her sense of humor, and her cleverness?”

“Oh, I most certainly do. No, no, make no mistake. Your Mrs. Bingley is quite fetching.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “But?”

He crossed his feet and then crossed them the other way. “Darcy, you do not need me to tell you how she will be received in Society.”

“No, but I rather thought you would be telling me that it mattered only to my own vanity. That the rest of the world could go hang, for I never cared to claw my way to the top of the social heap. Georgiana’s dowry is sufficient to attract plenty of gentlemen from which to choose.

The earl and countess will be disappointed but not devastated, and Lady Catherine will be displeased no matter what woman I marry, for it will not be her daughter. ”

“So, why do you need me? It sounds as if you have it all worked out.”

“What are you not telling me, Richard?”

He frowned and lifted his brows. “I only hope she will make you happy.”

“Well, that is just the trouble. I cannot seem to sort…”

“How you feel about her, or the reverse?”

“Both.” I sighed and got to my feet, then began to pace. “She is... she is... Well, I... When I am with her, I...” I turned around, my hand suspended in the air and my mouth hanging stupidly. I could not think how to form the words.

“She thrills you. Terrifies you and excites you and makes you feel things you never knew you could feel.”

“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, that is it exactly. How did you know?”

“It is all over your face, even now. Honestly, Darcy, I have never seen you like this. You are out of your head over the woman, and you are looking for permission to do something about it.”

“I do not need your permission,” I scoffed.

“No, you need your own. If you are determined to have her, if you think she will please you, then do as you like.”

I resumed my seat and crouched forward. “You do not seem as encouraging as I expected. What misgivings have you not told me?”

“Misgivings? I would not use such a strong word. You must marry someone eventually, and it may as well be a woman you find attractive. Goodness knows how many marriages are pure business, so you should count yourself fortunate that in this case, one of you, at least, knows what it is to love.”

I blinked. “Do you mean she does not appear to care for me?”

“Oh, I think she does, but whether it is a particular kind of attachment is impossible for me to say. Indeed, she teases and flirts with you, but from what I can see, that is simply her way. Is she any different with other men of her acquaintance?”

“Naturally! She is not immodest. Nor does she have a desperate need to marry again. I have never seen her show particular regard to anyone else.”

“And what about me?” He puckered his lips and raised a brow.

“You are always a favorite with the ladies. Of course she likes you.” A little too well, perhaps, judging by those musical performances.

“Darcy, I have been watching her carefully, and to be quite honest, I see very little difference in the ways she behaves with you versus me.”

This statement hit my stomach like a stone.

Or a death knell. I was spiraling, grasping at contradictions—anything, to prove him wrong.

“That is absurd. You were flirting with her, as well! What was she to do, ignore you? Besides, it would be only natural for her to wish to make a good impression on my family.”

“Ah, yes. I had a pretty friendly chat with her this afternoon.”

“And?”

“Oh, she told me all manner of things about the people hereabouts. Colonel Forster, her uncle Philips, her sister’s cat and her father’s book room and how her cousin Collins tried to offer for every sister in the Bennet family, on down the line, until he ran out of Bennets and had to apply to a Miss Lucas.

Ah, and she thinks you are too proud for your own good. ”

Fire sickened my insides, and cold sweat beaded my brow. “She… she did not say that.”

“My life on it, she did. She’s right, of course, but no man likes to think his lady feels that about him.”

“Are you certain she was serious?” I heard myself ask. “It sounds like something she would say just to provoke me. She does enjoy professing opinions that are not her own.”

“I’m not sure either one is a quality you ought to wish for in a wife.” He drew a long sip of his brandy and slowly shook his head. “No, Darcy, unless you have some other proof of her affections, I would have to say the attachment appears to be all on your side.”

She kissed me. But I did not say this to Richard. How could I speak of something so holy, so perfect and pure and... and confusing? She kissed me twice!

But she was not the first woman to kiss me, was she?

How many times had females, debutantes and widows alike, secretly bestowed meaningless fripperies like that on not only me, but others as well?

A whispered trifle, a lock of hair slipped into a coat pocket, and yes, even a sly kiss or two when no one was looking.

Elizabeth was not like that, though. She would never.

She had not been raised among the careless elite, for whom a slight indiscretion, perhaps on a balcony at a party, was merely winked at and hushed up.

She had only her simple virtue, and if she kissed me, even if she laughed it off later, surely she meant it. Yes, she must have.

So, I decided to stay quiet and let Richard keep watching for himself. He would see.

Ten days later, he did see, and in the most mortifying way possible. I thought to put my theory to the test and put myself out in the process. I asked Elizabeth to dance a reel with me.

My throat was tight, my heart pounding, and I was sure she must have seen how excruciating this notion was to me.

I despise making a spectacle of myself, but the music was lively, her toes were tapping, and I could not let the moment pass.

If she would but take my hand, salvage my dignity, I would know everything I needed to know.

She laughed at me.

Instead of spinning my nimble and witty love in my arms for all the world to see, I had to bear up when Caroline Bingley rose into her place.

I made no show of my disappointment, but my heart hemorrhaged that night and bled out a little more with each loathsome step.

It only got worse when Elizabeth stood up with Richard, and I had the torment of watching her, working all the dazzling arts and allurements that should have been mine, upon him.

“Leave me be,” I told him later when he knocked on my door.

He did not, of course. He poked his head through the crack and gave me a sympathetic smile. “It is not so bad, Darcy. What man can say his wife married him for love? I still say if you care for her enough to put up with the public censure of marrying her, then ask. She might even accept.”

“Forgive me, Cousin, but I have had enough advice for tonight.”

Richard returned to London three days later.

It was all I could do not to follow him, but Georgiana had finally found some measure of peace and friendship with Elizabeth and Jane Bennet.

I could not deny her that so soon. And, perhaps, I yet clung to a stubborn hope that I might find some way to either prove to Elizabeth that my heart belonged to her, or to see enough of her flaws to dislodge her from it entirely.

I think Richard saw through my design, pathetic as it was, but he was kind enough not to tease me.

I owe him a king’s ransom for having the courage to tell me what I did not wish to hear and yet granting me the dignity of privacy to act without interference.

Not another word passed between us about Elizabeth, because the truth was, I was already living in hell, knowing he had been right.