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Darcy apologized to Miss Catherine as he interrupted her dance with Richard; she only giggled nervously, while his cousin looked relieved.

“Wickham is in Meryton,” Darcy snarled as he led his cousin toward Colonel Forster.

“He means to enlist. He must have heard somehow that Georgiana is at Netherfield. Elizabeth said he was here at the ball and then vanished.”

Richard’s eyes shone with malice. “You do not think he would attempt an abduction? I will go to her at once - you stay and woo your lady - no doubt he has filled her head with his lies.”

Darcy groaned; he had not yet thought of that, though now it seemed a near certainty, from how she had spoken to him.

He tilted his head heavenward with exasperation.

Just when he had succumbed to his infatuation and allowed himself to really consider Elizabeth as a bride, Wickham had surely poisoned her against him.

“I did not think to ask Miss Elizabeth if she made him aware of Miss Darcy’s presence - I will find out, and if that is the case, yes, I would have you return to Netherfield.

I shall certainly send word to my valet to keep a watchful eye on the property; I have already asked Mrs. Hurst not to let Georgiana out of her sight, for fear she would make her way here.

” Darcy breathed a sigh of relief that he had not permitted his sister to attend the ball, much as it pained him to punish her.

“I will speak with Forster - we know each other a little - enough that he ought to trust my word. And if he does not send Wickham packing, you hold the markers on enough debt to have the weasel imprisoned. Go and hear what he has said to Miss Elizabeth, and know that I will wish to hear the substance of it later,” Richard said with a teasing tone, though the humor did not reach his eyes.

“Thank you,” Darcy said. He sought out his coachman and arranged for a message to be conveyed to his valet, and when he returned to the assembly room, the supper set was just beginning.

He strode past Miss Bingley, who grinned at him as she bid the musicians to play a waltz.

He smiled as he moved away; she had done him a great kindness, and it was not lost on him that she was promised to stand up with his cousin for the supper set.

Darcy found Elizabeth where he left her, and she looked up at him with bewilderment as he returned to her side and offered her his hand. “I hope your new friend has not persuaded you against dancing the supper set with me.”

“He has puzzled me so exceedingly that I should be glad of some opportunity to sketch your character,” she quipped, allowing him to lead her to the dance.

“Have you not already done so?”

“I have had little success, Mr. Darcy, for your own behavior has been so varied that I cannot make you out at all.”

“I beg you would not allow George Wickham to illustrate my character for you, as it would do neither you nor I any credit.” Darcy knew his words had been too cold, for her posture stiffened as he positioned his arms about her for the intimate movements of the waltz.

“Certainly you are intelligent enough to trust in your own discernment. I hope I have given you no reason to doubt me.”

Elizabeth blinked up at him in surprise.

“You have insulted me, and then you apologized. You goaded me about abusing you to all your relations, and then apologized for their incivility. You spoke encouragingly of Jane and Mr. Bingley forming an attachment, and yet you have not checked your sister’s determination to thwart their romance.

You have paid me more attention even than a lady you have known for many years, and yet you are betrothed to your cousin.

You have valued my opinion and yet disdained my relations. You are a contradiction, Mr. Darcy.”

They spun in time to the music, and Darcy required several minutes to process her accusations as he relished the feel of her body so near to his. “I am not engaged to my cousin Anne,” he said at last. “My aunt desires it, and it seems Mr. Collins has interpreted her delusion as absolute truth.”

“More disdain for my family,” she hissed, tightening her grasp on his hand as he spun her.

“Have I been uncivil?”

“You have told your sister that mine are ridiculous flirts, and I could see the derision written on your face when I danced with my cousin.”

Again Darcy was struck silent. He had watched with sympathy for her, and violent loathing for the parson, as Elizabeth had been humiliated by the bumbling dullard. Envy, too, had stirred within him. Possessive envy. “I did not like to see you made uncomfortable by his poor dancing.”

“Oh.” Her brow furrowed.

Darcy pressed his advantage. “Just as I do not like to see you often looking very conscious of your sisters’ boisterous behavior. I have come to know the feeling, in recent days, of being unable to prevent a younger sister from exposing herself to censure.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “I should not have thought a man such as yourself incapable of anything, especially when you have the advantage of being a true authority figure to your sister.”

“I have reprimanded her thrice, now, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, growing heated.

“I forbade her from attending the ball after her mischief with the placecards, and demanded that she apologize to you and your elder sister. We called at Longbourn this morning for that very purpose, but you were in the village.” Darcy grimaced; she had been with him .

Her countenance softened a little as they spun again. “I did not know.”

“We shall come again tomorrow.”

She nodded curtly. “I confess, I gave some credence to Mr. Wickham’s assertions because his description of your sister certainly seemed an accurate portrayal. I believe she told Lydia of your unkind words in an effort to imply that Jane is not a suitable match for Mr. Bingley.”

Darcy recalled the words he had spoken in frustration during that interminable carriage ride; if Georgiana had actually repeated them to the youngest Bennet, it was likely that all of Longbourn now loathed him.

“I ought not to have spoken as I did. I meant to compare their coquettish behavior to that of Richard’s sisters, in an effort to deter her from similar behavior toward Bingley.”

Elizabeth scoffed. “The comparison is hardly a fair one. My sisters are not vicious.”

Darcy felt as if she had struck him, but she was not wrong.

He drew her a little closer as they moved through the figures of the waltz together.

“No, they are not. In truth, you have more reason to think unkindly of my relations than I have to judge your own. I have given the matter considerable thought.”

“I should like to see this evaluation put into action, sir,” she chided him, her eyes flashing with wicked mirth.

“I am entirely at your command,” he blurted out, lost to the sparkle of those fine eyes.

“Then I would have you ask me what Mr. Wickham said of you.” Her piercing gaze betrayed a flash of surprise, as if she, too, had spoken before thinking. “I can see that you really wish to, and surely we are beyond polite restraint.”

Darcy had given ground on every point she raised, but where Wickham was concerned, Darcy could never be anything but severe.

He had hastened away from Elizabeth as soon as he understood that he was in danger of frightening her with his ire.

He was not proud of the strong reaction Wickham had ever been adept in provoking, and he had no wish for Elizabeth to see him thus.

Even now it was a struggle to suppress his passionate rage.

“Does he know that Georgiana is at Netherfield?”

“No, I did not mention her or the colonel. I suppose he may not have come to the ball at all if he had known, for surely he departed when he saw you arrive,” Elizabeth mused, as if through his piercing gaze she was sifting the truth from Wickham’s lies.

Darcy tore his eyes from her to find Richard dancing nearby with Miss Bingley, looking rather ready to devour her, and the lady far from unwilling.

When Richard finally looked up, Darcy gave a shake of his head and a significant look, mouthing the word safe before he returned his attention to Elizabeth.

Let Richard woo his lady, if Georgiana was in no immediate danger.

“I can guess what he told you, but as I am at your command, I would hear your telling of it.” And then, Darcy resolved, Elizabeth would hear the truth - or as much of it as he could give voice to in a crowded ballroom.

“He heard my sister laughing at how you had disparaged her. Kitty took it very poorly, but Lydia is more like me, for I laughed at your insult at the assembly. But I suppose Mr. Wickham made free with his complaints because he saw in me a willing audience. I am far more cross when those I love are insulted, than when my own vanity is wounded.”

She looked archly at him, but he had seen the calculation in her gaze as she mused on Wickham’s machinations. Darcy offered her an encouraging smile, silently begging her to come to the right conclusion, for she was nearly there. “I imagine he claimed to be very ill-used after my father’s death.”

“It is a far cry from censuring silly girls to disregarding your father’s final wishes during a time of mourning,” Elizabeth said softly, staring intently into his eyes as if beseeching him to convince her he was the better man.

“Surely you could not wish to see a gentleman so eager to speak of books with you to be a villain,” he drawled.

“No, indeed,” Elizabeth laughed. The fury had fully vanished, even the confusion in her eyes began to dispel as she laughed so beautifully at him. He could no longer remember what he had just said, but he would say anything to elicit such reactions from her again and again.

But first he would speak in defense of his honor.

“When my excellent father died five years ago, I was shattered by the loss. My mother had passed the year before, and it was a difficult time for Georgiana and I. Richard and Bingley were often with us, and can attest to our despair. Wickham had just completed university with me, and I had seen for many years how he behaved at school - I will spare you the details of his vice and debauchery. I attempted to make these concerns known to my father, but he was very like Bingley, always disposed to think the whole world good and pleasing.”

Elizabeth gave him a wistful smile, as if she could understand why Bingley’s character had ever been a balm to his spirits. When she nodded encouragingly, Darcy continued.

“He bequeathed Wickham a sum of one thousand pounds, which was given to him after the will was read. By verbal agreement, Wickham was also to have the valuable living of Kympton. I was relieved when he declared he had no wish to take orders, for I knew his disposition was not suited to the duties of a parson; he would have neglected his sermons and parishioners, and might even have been a danger to every farmer and shopkeeper’s daughter.

He expressed a wish to study the law, and in lieu of the living I granted him an additional sum of three thousand pounds, with a hope that our acquaintance was finally severed.

He went through every last shilling within a year, and returned to Pemberley to demand the living. I declined.”

Elizabeth gasped, missing a step of the waltz and latching onto him as she recovered herself. “The nerve of him, to paint himself the victim! That is an inordinate sum to spend so quickly.”

“He is capable of far worse, Miss Elizabeth. My cousin will likely see him run out of the village, or even apprehended for the debts he has run up; but you would do well to warn your sisters. His vices are more dangerous for pretty, naive young women.”

She nodded, a shade of fear in her shining gaze. “Thank you - for your concern, and for… the truth.”

She believed him. Darcy had not realized how desperately he needed not only to preserve his honor, but to earn her good faith in him. “There is more to the story, which I would tell you, but privately. May I do so tomorrow when Georgiana and I call?”

“You need not say any more, if you do not wish it,” she replied. “I am not without my grievances, but I no longer hold Mr. Wickham’s sad story against you.”

“Elizabeth, I am sorry,” Darcy sighed. Her eyes flashed with shock, and Darcy belatedly realized his mistake. He cleared his throat. “Miss Elizabeth, my sister and I shall both make you and your sisters every possible amends, if you will permit it.”

Again she nodded. “Then I hope we shall all be friends.”

But Darcy wanted a great deal more than that, and lamented the loss of her in his arms as the dance came to an end.

They sat with Richard and Miss Bingley at supper, and the four of them spoke with animation; Darcy was relieved that Elizabeth allowed their quarrel to rest. It was almost euphoric that he had won her good opinion, that he had conquered the discord between them.

He caught himself, more than once, musing upon how they might resolve a dispute once they were married, and what harmony they might then enjoy - what a friend she might think him then.

Even beholding the magic she had worked on Miss Bingley filled Darcy with elation, for he had ever lamented that Bingley’s company came at the heavy price of his sister’s inclusion.

It was then that Darcy realized Miss Bingley did not seek to prove she had reformed, in order to earn his regard.

No, she had heeded the words he had spoken on the night of the assembly, and understood that she ought to be a friend to the future Mrs. Darcy.

She had known before Darcy had that Elizabeth was the woman best suited to such a role.

Everything seemed to shimmer in the candlelit room as they dined and drank wine, and Darcy had never known such true merriment.

He felt that everything was unfolding just as it ought to, for himself and Bingley and even Richard, and it was all he could do not to carry Elizabeth off that very night.

He had wished to be sure of her, and he felt that he very nearly was.

He wanted only for Georgiana to make amends, and to tell Elizabeth the full truth; if she could take it all with such perfect grace, he would surely be on his knees.