Page 103 of Colour My World
He nodded. “That shall do.”
And then, he began reading aloud again. “My most esteemed and Right Honourable Patroness…”
Chapter 37
“My sisters must know.”
She stood before him—pale but resolute—her fists tight at her sides. Fear lingered in the stiffness of her spine, in the hitch of her breath—but beneath it, something fiercer had taken root: determination.
“The truth of him must be spoken, Papa—before silence becomes complicity.”
Bennet took in her words, weighing them with care.She had seen something no one else could. As she always had. And as always, he must translate it into plain speech—credible, unremarkable, safe. A father’s mandate.
She would fight him if he denied her—of that he had no doubt. He had trusted her instincts for years. It was no fault of hers that she now pressed the point.
“Very well.”
Relief softened her features.
“But you will not alarm them?”
“I would never,” she said.
His lips quirked, though the weight of the moment held. “That is debatable.”
* * *
Netherfield Park, that evening…
Darcy paced his suite, fists clenched. His thoughts churned, caught between duty and rage, restraint and retribution.Wickham.The name burned through him like poison. Expose him? Fight him? Run him off? Each option carried consequences.
And then there was Elizabeth.
He halted before the writing desk. Could she know what manner of man lurked beneath Wickham’s easy charm? The thought of her, unsuspecting and unguarded, breathing the same air as that villain twisted his gut. If Wickham could charm entire rooms into trusting him, what chance did she stand?
And Georgiana. The one he had already failed. If Wickham slipped away, would she be next?
Darcy reached for the leather-bound volume resting on his desk. He flipped open the first page of The Book.
A gentleman’s first duty is to those he loves.
Darcy took his seat, dipped his pen, and put it to the paper with firm strokes.
Richard,
I would not ask this of you unless the need were dire. Wickham is back—in Hertfordshire with the local militia. I have already encountered him. I will see his commanding officer. He must be ousted.
Go to Darcy House. Stay with Georgiana. Do not let her out of your sight. If he slips away, he may turn to her next.
Guard my sister. I trust no one else.
Darcy
* * *
The drawing room at Netherfield crackled with tension, the air thick with discontent. Darcy stood near the fireplace, shifting uncomfortably as Bingley and his sister traded barbs. The atmosphere, heavy with unspoken grievances, thickened as Miss Bingley seized the opportunity to direct the conversation where she pleased.
“I must say, Charles, it astounds me that you find the company here diverting. The people are insipid,the entertainment meagre, and the conversation painfully provincial. To say nothing of the vulgarity.” She looked at her brother. “One must draw the line somewhere.”
