Page 3 of Disarmed

Miss Lydia looked at him like he had grown an extra head.

“Your idea of a good match certainly is not mine, Mr Darcy. But then, what would you understand, being a wealthy man who can have and do anything he pleases? You will never have to marry someone with bad breath whose every word makes you want to rip off your own arms and stuff them into your ears so you can hear them no longer!”

Darcy fought back a laugh. He had not been introduced to the heir of Longbourn, but even if he was a stupid man, surely a lady with no better prospects would be grateful for the opportunity for a comfortable life.

“In any case, it will be Lizzy who will have to bear him. Thank goodness I am the youngest and my older sisters are not yet married. There are four sacrificial lambs before me.”

Darcy’s blood ran cold. “Miss Elizabeth is to marry Mr Collins?”

Miss Lydia pierced him with her gaze again. “Well, he has not proposed yet, but Mama says he will before the week is out. And Lizzy will accept him. Who else would have a woman who is merely tolerable?”

Darcy strongly suspected she was goading him now. He had not appreciated the quickness of her mind. She was as sharp as a nail and had deduced his interest in her sister. He would have to tread carefully.

“Being the eldest, I should have thought Miss Bennet would be Mr Collins’s first choice,” he said, trying to sound as light as possible.

Miss Lydia waved her hand dismissively. “Of course she was. But Jane is wildly in love with Mr Bingley, so he will have to content himself with Lizzy.”

Darcy scoffed inwardly. Content himself with Elizabeth!

Ha! The man would be lucky to secure such a gem.

And Miss Jane Bennet, wildly in love with Bingley?

Surely not. To be truthful, Darcy had spent very little time observing the eldest Bennet sister and his friend.

Bingley often fancied himself in love, usually with women of Miss Bennet’s looks, but he would move on soon enough.

Come to think of it, though, his interest had been notably greater and longer lasting this time…

He shook himself. No matter Bingley’s sentiments, a connection to the Bennets would be a degradation.

Miss Bennet seemed to be everything proper—unlike the little hoyden in front of him—but she was so dull, so insipid; and despite Miss Lydia’s words, he was convinced it was Mrs Bennet who was forwarding the match.

Some of his emotions must have shown on his face because Miss Lydia was now staring at him in that knowing way. What was happening to him today? The situation must have addled his brain. He was generally excellent at masking his feelings.

“You do not approve of my sister and Mr Bingley!” she cried.

Darcy scowled. “It is not for me to approve or disapprove of whatever is taking place between Miss Bennet and my friend. However, I do not believe your sister, or more importantly your mother, should get her hopes up.”

The girl was on her feet now, her hands on her hips and her eyes blazing. Was that a Bennet trait? He had seen a similar fire in her most enticing sister’s eyes when she argued with him.

She pointed a finger at him menacingly. “Do not dare persuade your friend against my sister,” she growled. “Jane is the sweetest and loveliest person in the whole world. She may be quiet, but she loves Mr Bingley, and you will break her heart if you separate them!”

Darcy was surprised by the outburst. “I—”

“No!” she cried. “I can see it in your face, Mr Darcy. You may try to be Mr Holier-than-thou, but I can see through that veil you hide behind. You think you know everything about people, but you do not know us at all.”

Darcy could only stare as she continued.

“You think my mother put my sister up to this. You think that she is pushing Jane at Mr Bingley because he is rich, and that Jane is simply following her orders. Well, you are wrong. Jane loves Mr Bingley. She loves him. Yes, my mother is pleased she has fallen in love with a rich man, but she would be happy still if she married a poorer one as long as he would take care of her. You are a nasty man. George was right about you!”

Darcy ground his teeth together. His whole body felt tightly wound; his knuckles were white, and his jaw was aching.

He took a couple of deep breaths. “Whether your sister loves my friend or not is none of my business. And it is highly improper for us to even be discussing this. I shall not utter another word on the subject.” Miss Lydia made to speak, but he held out a hand to stop her.

“What I will say is that you would be a fool to trust Wickham. And I do not believe you are a fool, Miss Lydia.”

The child made a noise in her throat, and for a moment, Darcy thought she might strike him, but instead she turned abruptly, her skirts spinning around her, and charged out into the rain.

Darcy strode to the door, but she had already disappeared. Returning to the armchair, he collapsed into it, sinking his head into his hands, and waited for the storm to abate.