Page 31 of Requirements for Love (Love in London with Mr Darcy #3)

Fitzwilliam touched his hat and continued toward the Albany while Darcy turned to walk home.

Two skilled men fencing fought more with their heads than with their hands. But Darcy had been too eager to beat him, and fury made him lose all sense. He had rushed headlong into his own destruction.

Peck, damned generous man that he was, forgave him for it.

Everything going forward with him and Elizabeth now felt even more awkward to him and more distressing.

Her ankle must be much improved, and she could return home soon.

That would certainly be for the best, so he ought to make that happen as soon as possible.

Elizabeth and Georgiana had the entire drawing room and all its fires and chairs to themselves.

Darcy had gone to fence and would likely avoid her for as long as possible.

Mrs Annesley had a headache, and so while Elizabeth propped her ankle on a stool, Georgiana sat near to her, reading and working and talking.

Their acquaintance had ripened into the warmest affection on both sides, and Elizabeth wanted their friendship to continue after she went home at the end of the week.

She thought of all of Darcy’s talk about honesty and integrity, and if she wanted to be a true friend to Georgiana, she owed her the truth about her own history with Wickham.

Darcy would never mention it, but Georgiana ought to know that she was not the only one taken in.

“Would you set aside your book?” Elizabeth asked. “I want to tell you something. At first, I did not know how to say it, so I hope you will excuse my staying silent for so long on the subject.”

“This sounds serious, Lizzy.”

“I am almost ashamed to own the truth to you, but you deserve my honesty. Last winter, I made the acquaintance of a young man who joined the militia quartered near my home.”

Georgiana’s eyes brightened. “That is why you are not ready to commit to Captain Peck! Your heart could not withstand the fascinating charms of this young militia officer? I pity you sincerely,” she said with a smile. “You have two options for a husband.”

She drew back. “Oh no, it is not like that at all.” She knew she blushed as she answered. “You see, the man who made himself agreeable to me was Mr Wickham.”

Her dear friend paled and was silent.

“I did not know his connexion to you,” Elizabeth hurried to explain. “I did not know what happened at Ramsgate until you confessed it. All I knew of his history with your family last autumn was that he resented your brother, and I was not a friend of his at the time, so I believed?—”

“But why not?” she interjected, with a confused look. “Fitzwilliam wrote to me of you in a way that implied friendship.”

That was a surprise. Until these past two weeks, she was certain Darcy had disliked her when they were in Hertfordshire.

“It was mostly my fault. Your brother did not make himself agreeable to my neighbourhood, but through my own vanity I was heartily decided against him, and therefore was eager to believe every lie Mr Wickham told about him.”

Georgiana was still silent, and Elizabeth continued, “I was foolish and vain and proud. I should never have trusted him.”

“Mr Wickham is a practised liar,” she murmured .

“Yes, but I still should have done better. I learnt a hard lesson, although a valuable one. I judged recklessly and trusted foolishly.”

“Me too.”

“You were not alone in trusting him,” she insisted. “I hope you do not judge yourself harshly for being duped. And I should have told you sooner you were not alone in trusting him, but when you first confessed, I was astonished, and then I did not know how to admit my own errors.”

Georgiana shrugged. “You need not have told me at all.”

“Yes, I did,” she said. “I know you are encouraging me to make a match, and as I think about the unlikelihood of making one from my neighbourhood with a family such as mine, I think it a good idea to marry from London. But I do not need a romantic ending to my stay in town to be happy. Nor do I need you to make me a match to love you as my friend.” She squeezed Georgiana’s hand.

“And I am not any more deserving of a romantic ending than you are.”

Her friend shook her head. “I do not deserve one. I should never have met with him alone. I should never have agreed to elope.”

Georgiana looked so ashamed that Elizabeth tried to rise and give her a hug.

When she realised what she wanted to do, Georgiana came to her side on the chaise and Elizabeth put her arms around her.

“I know, but you were na?ve and fifteen, and he is an absolute scoundrel to prey on you. You are too hard on yourself.”

She rested her head on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “You really believed him too?”

“Every word he said, even though I knew no good in him other than the regard his social powers gained him in our neighbourhood.”

“Did you believe he admired you and would have married you?”

“If I had thirty thousand pounds, he would have,” she said wryly.

“He is now pursuing a young lady who recently inherited ten thousand. I expect that between my father and your brother, he will chase no one within twenty miles of Meryton. He is hatefully mercenary and will tell any falsehood if it serves his purpose, which seems to be to marry rich and be employed very little.”

“I fell for every lie he told. I thought he loved me; he convinced me to abandon my brother and run away with him. I was so reckless, Lizzy.”

“I trusted him too. That does not mean we are stupid or unworthy of a genuine attachment. Do you know I think you are practically perfect and would be glad to be your friend whether you find me a husband or not?”

Georgiana only shrugged a little. Elizabeth hoped she knew that.

“Nor must you find me a match to atone for nearly making a bad one for yourself. And you are worthy of your own romantic happiness.”

“Not yet, though.”

“You are worthy, but there is no hurry.” She squeezed Georgiana, who sat up and smiled at her. “Going forward, we shall both guard against hasty attachments. No love at first sight. And all the men we meet must be known to our families.”

“Captain Peck will call in Gracechurch Street to meet your aunt and uncle.”

“Undoubtedly.” She would have to put greater effort into knowing him better, and forgetting Darcy.

She had been certain that there was a reciprocal affection between her and Darcy when he nearly kissed her a few days ago, but it was all for naught.

“But your call to visit me once I return home will be the one that I most look forward to.”

Tuesday evening at home had felt strained to Darcy, but he knew that was only in his own mind.

To Elizabeth and the others, it had surely felt as though they played whist and talked like any other foursome of friends.

Elizabeth could not know he was mortified at how he had acted toward Captain Peck, or how heartbroken he was that he had lost his chance with her.

He was in love with a woman and had driven her toward another man.

He could not interfere with Elizabeth’s happiness if she wanted Peck, and that was easier done if she was not living in his house, smiling with his sister, and in his arms as he carried her from room to room. For his own peace of mind, and Elizabeth’s lasting happiness, she had to return home.

On Wednesday morning, he sent a note to the surgeon asking him to wait on Elizabeth, and at half four the man entered the drawing room when they were about to break up to dress for dinner.

After Darcy thanked him for coming, Elizabeth said to him quietly, “What is all this? Friday would be a fortnight; why did you ask the surgeon to call now?”

“You seemed improved, so I asked the surgeon to attest to it. I thought you would be eager to return home.”

Elizabeth dropped her eyes, and the surgeon approached before she could say more. “Have you been wrapping some bandage pretty tight around your ankle?”

“Yes. Mr Darcy’s housekeeper has taken good care of me.”

The surgeon bid her to remove her slipper, and he unwrapped the ankle. “It is no longer swollen and red; you must have heeded my instruction to keep easy. Now you may stand on it.”

He held out a hand as Elizabeth rose and carefully balanced on both feet.

“Do you feel diminished in strength? Pain in the joint?”

Darcy watched her settle her weight on her right foot.

“There is no pain. I suppose it is a little weak since I have not used it in nearly a fortnight, but I could walk now.”

“Good. Are you not glad you did as I bid and avoided moving about, young lady?”

She looked rather indignant at being thus spoken to, but she gave a polite nod.

“You may move as normal now, but I would not recommend running or jumping, or whatever it was you did to injure yourself in the first place.”

“I will be certain to avoid men with walking sticks and patches of ice,” she said.

Her tone seemed lost on the surgeon, who gathered his things, bowed to them all, and was gone as quick as he came. Elizabeth sat again and put on her slipper, looking more distressed than made sense to him.

“Miss Bennet, what is the matter?” he asked her with some concern. “You are once again in excellent health.”

“I am glad of it. I just—” She hesitated, then said quietly, “I did not know you were eager to have your house to yourself again. I am sorry to have inconvenienced you.”

“I want you to be at ease,” he said quickly, “and anyone is naturally more at ease in their own home. But you cannot think I want to be rid of you.” He did, and she was perceptive enough to see it, but that was not her fault.

It was not because he did not care for her.

“And I have not forgotten my invitation to the opera. I will send a note to Mrs Gardiner, and we will see each other on Tuesday. And you must continue your acquaintance with my sister. I will see you all over London this winter.”

He certainly would if Bingley married her sister, and if Georgiana was her devoted friend.