Page 80 of Dear Friend

“I daresay Mr. Darcy will have his own account of our history.”

“As you would have yours.”

“Indeed.”

Elizabeth might have questioned him further, if only to discover why the prospect of Darcy's account appeared to have unsettled him, but Wickham glanced towards the shops across the street and seemed suddenly to recollect something.

“I beg your pardon. I had nearly forgotten an engagement which I must attend to before the afternoon is gone.” He turned towards Denny. “You will forgive me if I leave you here?”

Denny looked surprised. “I thought you meant to come with us to Mrs. Phillips's.”

“I had intended it, but I find I cannot.” Wickham bowed to the ladies. “I hope I shall have the pleasure of renewing the acquaintance another day.”

Lydia immediately assured him that he must, and Kitty echoed her. Elizabeth merely returned his bow.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wickham.”

“Miss Elizabeth.”

His gaze rested upon her for a moment. Elizabeth had the curious impression that he was considering whether to say something further, but whatever the impulse, he abandoned it.

With another bow, he crossed the street and was soon lost amongst the people gathered about the market.

Elizabeth watched him go.

“Well!” Lydia exclaimed. “Everybody appears determined to abandon us this afternoon. If you mean to disappear next, Denny, I should like some warning.”

Denny laughed. “I assure you, Miss Lydia, I have no mysterious engagement requiring my immediate attention.”

“Then you are already more dependable than your friend.”

Mr. Collins, who had been deprived of the conversation for nearly half a minute, reclaimed it by returning to the extraordinary circumstance of Mr. Darcy's being Lady Catherine's nephew. Mary received his observations with greater patience than Elizabeth could have managed, while Kitty and Lydia occupied Mr. Denny with questions concerning the officers.

Elizabeth followed more slowly.

Her happiness of the morning had not disappeared, but her thoughts had acquired a new object. She could still see Darcy's face at the instant he recognised Wickham, and she knew him well enough to be certain that such anger did not come easily to him.

Wickham puzzled her almost as much. He had been willing enough to acknowledge an unhappy history with Darcy, yet the moment Elizabeth made it clear that she meant to hear Darcy's account, he had remembered an engagement elsewhere with remarkable convenience.

She might have questioned Denny. But Elizabeth had no desire to gather scraps of gossip concerning a man who had trusted her with something so important that very morning.

Whatever had passed between Fitzwilliam Darcy and George Wickham, she wanted to hear of it from Darcy himself.

And judging by the expression with which he had ridden away, she suspected there was a great deal to hear.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

10th November 1811

Longbourn

Darcy

It was Sunday, which put Oakham Mount quite out of the question. Darcy wished for the privacy to explain to Elizabeth what had passed in Meryton and why the sight of George Wickham had provoked so violent a reaction in him, but there would be little opportunity for such a conversation before or after church.

He had not seen Wickham since Ramsgate, and the unexpected sight of him had awakened an anger Darcy had believed himself capable of governing. That Wickham had been standing amongst the Bennet sisters, speaking with Elizabeth as though he had every right to her acquaintance, had made the provocation considerably worse. For several seconds, sheer discipline alone had kept Darcy in the saddle rather than allowing him to dismount and strike the man.

Riding away had been the only prudent course left to him.