Page 53 of Hidden Desires

Still, I remember what led to it. Mr. Wickham terrified Georgiana, betrayed her trust, and nearly ruined her.

And Mary was not far behind. What else was he to do?

The sight of him ready to commit murder terrified me, but if it had been Papa instead of Mr. Darcy, would he not have done the same?

Of course he would. That kind of fury belongs to men whose love cannot endure the harm done to those they protect.

And he does love her. That much is certain. The way he looks at her, the way he listens, the way he holds her arm as though afraid she might break—it is not for show. He puts her comfort and safety before his own at every turn. That is not cruelty. That is devotion.

No, he is not pretending. His affection for her is real. If he were to look at me with that same care, that same fierce protectiveness, could I ever doubt him again?

If I find a man who loves me as he loves Georgiana, I will be happy. I do not care if he is a lord or a farmer. That kind of love matters more than station ever could.

I hope he does not leave because of this. I think I want the opportunity to know him better.

“Papa,” she said as the carriage stopped outside the manor door, “we are home.”

Bennet stretched and looked about himself as Hill opened the cabin door.

“Welcome back, sir,” the servant said as he stepped down and twisted to ease the stiffness in his back.

“Tend to the horses,” he told a stable hand, who nodded and led the team toward the stalls.

He shook his head to clear it and saw Mr. Darcy approaching. Mr. Wickham remained tied to his horse, looking much the worse for wear after the journey.

“It is good to be back,” he said. “But the day is almost over. We can wait until tomorrow to take him to Colonel Forster.”

Darcy mopped his brow with a handkerchief, fatigue plain in the slump of his shoulders and the dullness in his eyes. He looked close to collapse, stubbornness the only thing keeping him upright. With visible effort, he straightened and looked at Bennet.

“I will rest easier when he is in the colonel’s custody. With your permission, I will take him into town now and let the colonel put him in whatever passes for a prison cell in Meryton. We will return tomorrow, unless you object.”

“Never,” Bennet declared. “And I agree with you. A delay gives him time to plan his escape, and I have no desire to chase him down again. Thank you for your help. I owe you a debt I doubt I can ever repay.”

“You owe me nothing,” Darcy said, shaking his head. “I had my own reasons for coming with you, and I thank you for allowing my presence.”

“You are always welcome here,” Bennet replied, as Darcy turned his mount and, leading his captive’s horse by the reins, rode from the estate.

“It is time, I suppose,” he said, turning toward the manor, “to explain this to Mrs. Bennet. I hold a small hope no one said anything to upset her, but I doubt it.”

“They will have eaten,” he added as they entered the house, “which is just as well. Take Mary to her room, then go and ask the cook to prepare a plate for her.”

“Why not eat in the dining room?” she asked. “It is more convenient, and faster than carrying food upstairs.”

“True,” he agreed, “but I want Mary to avoid her mother tonight and Mrs. Bennet will be upset. Let me try to calm her first. If luck smiles upon me, her nerves might settle before Darcy returns with the bridegroom.”

“As you wish,” Elizabeth said.

The travelers shed their outer clothing. Elizabeth took Mary upstairs as instructed, then joined her father in the kitchen to request a light meal for them both.

Jane met them in the dining room, raising her hand to bring both to a halt.

“Were you successful?” she whispered. “Mama has been waiting for news, and growing angrier as the day wore on. I suggest you send Mary to her room and keep her there until morning. This might allow her anger to ease.”

“Mary is in her room,” Bennet told her, “and I want nothing more than a small plate to enjoy in the library. Elizabeth will ask the cook to send something to Mary.”

“She knows you are home,” Jane said. “The carriage caught her attention, and she watched Mr. Darcy ride away. Now she is waiting for you.”

Bennet sighed at the enormity of the task he faced. To settle Mrs. Bennet’s agitation after it had festered and grown was not something he relished. She tended to center on the worst possible outcome and ignore everything else.

He squared his shoulders and stepped into the sitting room, where his wife sat rocking in a chair, hugging herself.

“Mr. Bennet, we are ruined!” she cried upon his entrance. “How could Mary do such a thing? Have I not always given her the biggest portion of my love, more than what I gave her sisters?

“I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. To think she could fall for the lies of this Mr. Wickham, a mere officer in the regiment!”

“She is sorry for the pain she caused,” he claimed, ignoring Elizabeth’s rising brows.

With a quick shake of his head, he continued: “She regrets her impulsive action and wants you to know that she will do her best to reclaim your good nature and benevolent regard.”

He looked at Elizabeth, who stood with her hands on her hips, one brow arched and the corners of her mouth twitching despite her attempt to appear stern. With a small shrug, he turned once again to his wife.

“But our name is ruined! Our daughters are destined to lives of misery and shame, never to attract a proper suitor. They will be left to themselves, old maids unloved and without friendship, because of the selfish choice of their sister. Has she no compassion for her long-suffering mother?”

“Mary gave the matter careful thought,” Bennet said. “In her mind, she acted for the right reasons. She knew it was wrong but convinced herself it was the best or perhaps the only choice left to her.”

“This would not have happened if you had been home,” Mrs. Bennet snapped.

“Instead, you run off at every opportunity. If you had stayed to help raise your daughters, Mary would not have listened to the lies and temptations of the sort that infest Meryton. Your absence has left our children to run wild through the town, and who knows where else?”

“The situation is not so dire as you suppose,” Bennet said in a calm tone.

“Darcy took Wickham to Colonel Forster to decide upon his punishment.

They will return tomorrow so he can wed our daughter.

While we found them together in a room, Mary refused his advances, so she is not as soiled as you assume.

“They will marry as soon as I can bring the parson to Longbourn to conduct the ceremony. The circumstances of their elopement should remain secret, provided the household can hold its tongue.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to ask the cook for a light meal, then retire to the library for the rest of the evening.”

He left the room, leaving his wife to rant and rave about the damage to the family name and the betrayal by her favorite daughter.

Bennet, amused by her claim of favoring the middle child despite all evidence to the contrary, smiled to himself and went in search of the cook for a small evening repast.

With a plate of sliced meats, bread, and cheese in hand, he made his way to the library, looking forward to spending the evening alone. He lit the lamp and set the plate on the desk, then sat down to eat, only to hear a soft tap at the door.

“Come in,” he said.

The door opened to reveal Elizabeth, her expression troubled and her hands clasped before her as though steadying herself for an unpleasant task. She stepped inside without waiting to be asked again.

“Papa, we need to talk about what you said to Mama.”

She stopped there, shifting her weight as though uncertain whether to go on.

“And?” he prompted.

“I do not believe Mary regrets anything she did,” Elizabeth said. “She has convinced herself her behavior served her own best interest. Mama expects her to beg for forgiveness and will be even more upset when she does not.”

“I have come to the same conclusion,” he said. “Although Mary apologized for the pain she caused, I took that and built upon it to give your mother something to cling to. I hoped to ease her distress, though I doubt I succeeded.

“Do not worry, Lizzy. I promise to speak with Mary and convince her to offer some form of amends before her mother confronts her.”

“The question is will she listen to you,” Elizabeth said. “I would hate to see the situation grow worse.”

“As would I,” he said as Elizabeth left the library, and he turned back to his food. “As would I.”