Page 36 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious "Miss B"
“Mr Darcy,” she said, her voice carrying a dangerous edge. “I believe we need to have a conversation.”
Behind her, Jane appeared, supported by Georgiana and looking as though she might collapse at any moment. Her face was streaked with tears, and her hands shook as she gripped Georgiana’s arm.
“Elizabeth, please,” Jane whispered. “Let us go home.”
“No.” Elizabeth stepped into the room, her gaze fixed on Darcy with sharp intensity. “Not until certain things are made clear.”
Darcy rose, recognising the storm that was about to break over his head. Whatever Elizabeth Bennet intended to say, he suspected the evening was far from over.
And despite everything—despite his conviction that she was as calculating as her sister, despite his determination to protect his friend from fortune hunters—he looked forward to the confrontation.
For better or worse, Elizabeth Bennet was about to show him exactly who she truly was.
Chapter 13
Elizabeth
Elizabeth’s hands shook as she stepped into the hallway, fury coursing through her veins. The drawing room door had closed behind Bingley with an ominous finality, and she had heard enough through the keyhole to understand exactly what had transpired.
“Mr Darcy!” She called his name like a battle cry.
He emerged from the study, eyebrows raised. “Miss Elizabeth.”
“Let us not trifle with formalities, you are a meddlesome, arrogant—” She stopped herself before the worst of her words could escape. “How dare you?”
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “I beg your pardon?”
“You know precisely what I mean. Your interference in Jane’s affairs. Your poisoning of Mr Bingley’s mind against her.” Her voice rose with each word. “You had no right!”
“I had every right to inform my friend of the truth.”
“The truth?” Elizabeth’s laugh held no humour. “The truth is that Jane does not want to marry James Morton. She is doing it because she is a good woman who wants the best for her family. She is sacrificing her own happiness to save us all from ruin, and you—you interfere in the proceedings!”
“Charles deserves to know she is promised to another.”
“Promised!” Elizabeth stepped closer, her eyes blazing. “She is trapped. Trapped by circumstances beyond her control. Jane adores Mr Bingley—anyone could see it. And I suspect he feels the same, does he not?”
Darcy’s silence spoke volumes.
“Answer me,” Elizabeth demanded. “Does Mr Bingley care for Jane?”
“Yes,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “He does.”
“Then you have ruined everything!” She threw her hands in the air. “Everything! If Jane could have what she wanted, Mr Bingley would pursue courtship. They could be happy together. But no—you could not allow that, could you? You had to interfere with your suspicions and your judgements.”
“I was protecting him from—”
“From what? From a woman who would make him the happiest man in England?” Elizabeth’s voice cracked with emotion. “You saw what you wanted to see, Mr Darcy. You decided Jane was duplicitous because it suited your narrative.”
Darcy’s composure wavered. “I thought—”
“You thought wrong.” Elizabeth turned on her heel. “Now if you will excuse me, I must see to my sister.”
She found Jane in the drawing room, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Georgiana sat beside her, offering a handkerchief with gentle murmurs of comfort.
“Jane.” Elizabeth rushed to her sister’s side. “We are leaving. Now. Can you manage the carriage?”
Jane nodded, though fresh tears fell. “I must.”
