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His cousin’s voice drew his attention from his business papers. William knew very well to what Richard referred, but chose to act as though it had not affected him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Come now, Darce! It is I! Richard—your omniscient, omnipresent cousin. You remember—the one who saved you from the clutches of those two wicked harridans!” The smile left Richard’s face, replaced by a more serious countenance. “Tell me, are you well?”

How William hated Richard’s ability to make him smile when he wished to scowl. Standing, he dropped his papers and walked around the desk to lean against it, facing the one person he could never fool.

“I am well. It is just that I hate for Edgar to think—”

Richard placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, effectively silencing him. “Edgar said things he should not have. He knows Jacqueline is a liar, but he is jealous of you. He always has been. Surely you know that.”

“But I never—”

“Look, Darce, the women love you! Hell! Even I am jealous of you sometimes. Then I remember that you cannot help what you are, and you certainly do not vie for anyone’s attention.” Richard tried not to smirk as he added, “You are perfect through no fault of your own.”

William shushed him. “I am no such thing.”

“When it comes to looks, you are! But you came by it honestly. Uncle George was a handsome man, and I was told he had his share of women chasing after him.”

“He did?” William brightened. “He never mentioned anything.”

“My mother told me once that Aunt Anne had to beat the women off Uncle George with a stick.”

William smiled widely. “You jest.”

“Well, about the stick perhaps, but not about the women who harassed him or his being a handsome man. I remember that he was still a fine looking fellow when you graduated from university.”

The thought of how young his father had appeared only a year before his death caused an ache in William’s chest. Forcing himself not to dwell on it, he feigned a smile. “I appreciate that you are trying to lift my spirits, Richard, but I fear it is useless. Only this morning, Mrs. Barnes informed me that one of the maids heard rumours of last night’s happenings when she went to pick up an order at the market. I can only wonder at how it became common knowledge overnight.”

“It appears there were others in the gardens during the melee. I saw no one when I escorted the ladies to the house, but naturally, the gossips scurried like rats from a burning building to spread the news.”

William dropped his head and groaned. “This is a disaster!”

“Not for Edgar! You did him a favour.” William’s head shot up and a quizzical brow lifted.

“With Jacqueline’s blatant display of shameless regard for you, Father has finally seen what Edgar has said all along—that their marriage is hopeless. And since she had no intention of providing him an heir, last night was further incentive for them to separate permanently. As I see it, the only problem is that she may pursue you even more vigorously afterward.”

“I never sought her attention. There is only one woman’s attention I want, and right now she does not want even to talk to me.”

“Miss Elizabeth does not want to talk to you? Why ever not? You were so close just weeks ago. What happened?”

“Her memory is returning.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I believe she has remembered what she did not like about me.”

“You and she had such lively debates when we were at Rosings. I would never have guessed she did not like you. How did you come to find out?”

“I made her an offer of marriage.” At Richard’s look of astonishment, he shrugged. “In Kent.”

“You did not!”

“I most certainly did, and she refused me.”

“My word! What reason did she give for refusing one of the most eligible men in England?”

“Among other things, my selfish disdain for the feelings of others—of a more personal nature, the separation of her sister and Charles Bingley.”

“Separate Bingley from Miss Bennet? She was the one?” William did not reply, but the guilt on his face was confirmation.

Richard realised his part in the misunderstanding and groaned. “All of this—your exile, Miss Elizabeth’s ordeal—should be laid at my feet! I had no idea that Miss Bennet was the woman Bingley was enamoured of in Hertfordshire, and I told Miss Elizabeth of how you were his advisor—how he valued your opinion. My purpose was just to impress her with the way you look after your friends and family. Can you ever forgive me for betraying a confidence and causing you both pain?”

William patted Richard’s arm. “It is in the past, Richard. And the truth would have come out eventually, so do not be distressed. Besides, Elizabeth had such a poor opinion of my character that that alone would have been reason enough. She said I did not act like a gentleman.”