Elizabeth shook her head, fully aware that if he knew about Wickham, he would not be so generous. She needed to acquaint him with all the details. She was surprised, then, to hear his next request.

“Would you be so kind, Mr. Ketterling… Mrs. Ketterling… to allow Miss Bennet to step out with me? There are a few matters I need to discuss with her.”

Elizabeth’s eyes shot up, and she looked over at her hosts. They both nodded with understanding and gratitude for all this man had ever done and was now doing. “Certainly, certainly,” Mr. Ketterling consented. Elizabeth did not believe they would deny this man any request.

Elizabeth stood up as Darcy beckoned to her. As they walked toward the door, he said to the Ketterlings, “I do appreciate all you have done for Miss Bennet.”

Mr. Ketterling waved a hand in the air. “No, Mr. Darcy, it is you who have done so much for her.”

They walked out slowly and quietly. Mr. Darcy finally broke the silence.

“Miss Bennet, as I was unaware of your departure yesterday, when I walked up to the ridge this morning and you did not show up, I questioned why. I pondered the strong possibility that you may have judged me completely devoid of good manners and breeding in giving you that pair of mud boots, because of what you may have alleged my meaning was in doing so.”

“Oh, no, sir, I…”

Darcy put up a hand. “Still, while I was up there waiting, I berated myself for again acting completely without propriety.” He let out a long sigh. “I imagined that you thought me a rake!”

Elizabeth let out a soft chuckle. “I did not, sir.”

He met her gaze and regarded her with contrition. “At breakfast, when I first heard you had left Pemberley, my initial thought again was that I had been the reason for your departure. You wanted nothing but to be out of my presence.”

“I am sorry to have caused you concern.”

“Miss Bennet,” Darcy stopped and turned to her. “There are a few things I need to relate to you. Some things occurred after you left that might distress you.”

Elizabeth looked up at him questioningly. Now she wondered whether he did somehow come to learn of Wickham’s involvement.

Darcy breathed in deeply and combed his fingers through his hair. “Apparently, after you left, Miss Emily went into your room looking for that book of birds the two of you had so enjoyed.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I gave it to one of the maids to return to the library.

Darcy nodded. “She was unaware of that and believed it to be somewhere in your room, so she searched for it.” He paused. “Fairly extensively.”

Elizabeth lifted her brows, encouraging him to finish.

“She did not find the book, but she did find…” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “This.”

As he held it out, Elizabeth gasped as her eyes recognized his meticulous handwriting. It was the first page of the letter he had written to her at Rosings. Red flushes of mortification spread across her face; her stomach suddenly growing queasy. “Oh, no!” Her hands went up to her cheeks. “I am so sorry, Mr. Darcy. I thought I had packed it away!”

“She claimed to have found it on the floor under your bed.”

Elizabeth shook her head as she tried to think. She remembered reading it one night on her bed and when Rosalyn came in, she quickly stuffed it under her pillow. It must have fallen to the floor, and she put the remaining pages in her drawer without ensuring all the pages were accounted for.

“Did anyone else come to know about it?” she asked, looking warily up at him.

“Not immediately. Apparently Miss Willstone put it in one of her pockets and forgot about it until the evening meal. She pulled it out at dinner.”

Elizabeth’s chest tightened so severely that she could not take a breath; she felt so much shame and distress. To have that letter come into the hands of everyone was one thing, but for Mr. Darcy to know that she had kept it all this time was another. “This is terrible!” she said.

“Well, it is not so much to you.”

She looked up warily and asked, “What do you mean?”

“As you know, I was not there. When Miss Willstone pulled it out, announcing that she had found it in your room, Miss Matthews snatched it out of her niece’s hand and began to read it. My sister recognized my handwriting and protested that we ought not be reading someone else’s personal letter. My good cousin, Hamilton, promptly liberated it from Miss Matthews’s hands.”

Very softly, Elizabeth asked, “How much did they read?”

Darcy shifted from one foot to another, Elizabeth recognizing this as a sign of his unease. “Basically just the first sentence of the letter. At least the Willstones and Miss Matthews only read the first sentence, but I believe my cousin has now apprised himself of the whole page.”

Elizabeth let out a frustrated huff. “They must wonder about the propriety of a letter written by you to me.”

Darcy nodded. “There has actually been a great deal of speculation, especially as to the nature of the first sentence.”

Elizabeth tried to recollect what that first sentence said. She ought to know the whole letter by heart, but with all that had happened, and with Mr. Darcy’s close presence, she could not recall. “May I have the letter?”

He promptly handed it to her. As her eyes read the missive, she took in the words.


Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you.


Elizabeth looked up at him and saw that his face appeared grim. “You said earlier that it was not so horrible to me. What did you mean?”

Darcy’s jaw tightened and his brows pinched tightly together. “The conjecture last night was based on what type of offer I would have made to you that would have been so disgusting to you.”

Elizabeth’s heart quickened as he spoke. She wished to hear, and yet at the same time did not want to hear, what it was they believed.

Darcy’s voice softened. “Someone thought they saw you in the private hall to my chambers yesterday. That led to the consensus that I… that I made a most dishonourable request of you.”

Elizabeth stomped her foot and spun around, bringing her arms up and folding them in front of her. Her eyes filled with tears and she could not prevent one from spilling down her face. She took in a shaky breath. “I am so sorry, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy looked down, wishing to console her but knowing the Ketterlings were likely watching them through the window. “Miss Bennet, I want you to be assured that you have come through this shining like a star, for according to this letter, you were disgusted by my offer.”

“I am so sorry, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth could not imagine he was pleased with these rumours. “What about your friends and cousin? What about your sister?” Elizabeth wondered with true concern that those who truly cared for him would not be under the wrong impression.

“I had an obligation to confide in them the reason for the letter. Besides, Hamilton would not leave it. He pressed me unremittingly to justify my actions.”

“I am so sorry,” Elizabeth could think of nothing else to say.

“My good cousin is getting quite a laugh about it, particularly when he recollected his comments the day of the picnic.”

Elizabeth looked up at him with appreciation. He was not angry at her; he seemed to not even be angry at the rumours that were swirling about.

She suddenly thought of Rosalyn, and wondered if there was anything to the conjectures about his feelings of regard for her. “I am quite certain,” she began, “that you will be able to explain the letter and its contents to Miss Matthews and all will be well with her. She will certainly forgive you.”

His eyes narrowed and he expelled a short breath. “Miss Matthews? What is she to me?”

Elizabeth looked nervously down at her hands, which she rubbed briskly together. “I was under the impression, in fact several have been under the impression, that the invitation to Pemberley was to further your acquaintance with her.”

Darcy’s head dropped and he let out a long breath. He was silent for a moment before saying to her, “No, Miss Bennet. If that has been what everyone believed, I have been a fool. It was all for…”

“Mr. Darcy, please!” Elizabeth stopped him. “There is something I must tell you.”

She could not bear to have him express any admiration for her, if that was what he was about to do, and then withdraw it once he heard about Wickham.

“What is it?” he asked.

Elizabeth clasped her hands together and looked down at them as she proceeded. “You said you knew about the contents of the letter I received from Jane, that my youngest sister Lydia has run off with an officer?”

He nodded. “That is precisely what I was told.”

“You know my sister, Mr. Darcy. She may have no qualms about not marrying, and if she does not, it will bring disgrace to my family.”

“We cannot be sure of that yet.”

“No,” Elizabeth answered, turning her head and looking off into the distance. “But there are particulars about this whole situation with which you are not acquainted.” She turned back and looked at him, tears now freely falling down her face. “The officer she ran off with is… is George Wickham.”

Elizabeth saw it immediately. His countenance was altered as his eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in anger. She saw in him the recognition of all the consequences of her sister’s actions. She saw the calculations in his mind as he battled what he now knew with what he possibly felt. She saw the resignation and the determined set of his jaw when he had made his decision.