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“Hence the twofold purpose in my travelling to Kent. I shall clarify matters with Lady Catherine once and for all.”

“Then you surely intend to marry this Miss Bennet?”

“Certainly, but even if that were not the case, telling our aunt that I have no intention of ever marrying Anne is the thing to do. I should have put a stop to that foolishness years ago.”

The following morning, Mr. Darcy brought Colonel Fitzwilliam with him when he called at Barrington Hall. The colonel was about thirty. He was not handsome, but in person and address, he was most truly the gentleman. When the introductions were made, Colonel Fitzwilliam directly entered into conversation with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man and talked very pleasantly.

Having greeted everyone with his usual reserve, Darcy seemed contented to have his cousin carry on the bulk of the conversation. The gentleman did so with alacrity.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam, I pray you will enjoy our rather limited society, what with so many of our friends having sojourned to London for the Season,” said Elizabeth after a lull in the conversation.

“As pleasing a prospect as that would be, I am unable to offer you assurances. We leave tomorrow.”

“We, sir? I was not aware you had travelling companions. I should have loved to make their acquaintance.”

“I speak of Darcy and me.” The colonel’s pronouncement unsettled Darcy’s calm demeanour, but he said nothing.

Both ladies’ voices rang out in startled unison. “So soon?”

A quiet disturbance settled upon the room. Richard stood to take his leave and said his goodbyes and was gone directly.

The quietness in the room subsequent to Richard’s hasty departure was nothing in comparison to the silence that accompanied Darcy and Elizabeth on their walk to the garden. The farther they walked, the more she considered the odd confluence of events of late. She had sensed him pulling away gradually, and now he was leaving. Elizabeth thought back to the self-satisfied look upon Caroline Bingley’s face her last night at Avondale when she informed Elizabeth that she would find Mr. Darcy on the balcony. No doubt she was the one who poisoned his thoughts against me. That was over a week ago, and he has been behaving aloof and taciturn ever since. His cousin’s coming here affords him a most convenient excuse to do that which he has been planning all along.

As they had been walking for a time and he had yet to offer an explanation for the sudden turn of events, Elizabeth put forth her own. “It has occurred to me that your regard for me has lessened appreciably since you learned about my family.” She raised her head in defiance. “You would never admit it, but I cannot help thinking it is true. Now your own relation has arrived in Bosley, and you are prepared to take your leave the very next day.”

He bestowed a look of utter astonishment. “I shall not ascribe to the sentiments you describe as being my own, and I certainly shall not account for them as though they were.” Darcy felt his patience waning. He had expected her to be disappointed, but certainly had not expected to defend his decision to leave. When did he ever have to justify any of his actions to anyone? Frustration crept into his speech. “You talk as if I wish to be parted from you when it is simply not true. This is how it is, Elizabeth. My plans were fixed long before we met. You cannot imagine how many times I have delayed my departure already so I might continue to see you each day. As soon as my business is done, I shall return to Bosley—to you.”

“To me, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth huffed. “Do you suppose I am one of your possessions?”

“I never said you were. Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

“Then why treat me as such … as if I were a possession that you might place on a shelf while you attend to other diversions with the expectation that you will find said prize just where you left it when it suits you.”

“Those are your sentiments, not mine. You reside here in Bosley. Is it unreasonable for me to assume that you will be here when I return?”

“You talk as if you plan to have me sit idly by the window and patiently await your return.”

“No—not idly; I suppose you might do any number of things: read, walk, paint screens … whatever accomplished young women do.”

Wanting to erase the pain of disappointment from her eyes, Darcy reached out for her, but she jerked away. “Do not touch me!”

“Elizabeth, you are not being fair.” He raked his fingers through his hair and breathed a beleaguered sigh. His voice was heavy with emotion. “Am I to disregard all my prior commitments? I have obligations that demand that I leave.”

“Of course, you must do what you must to satisfy your obligations and prior commitments, sir, but why did you make no mention of either of these things before? When you spoke of foregoing the London Season, you led me to believe you were to remain here in Bosley.”

“I can see there is no reasoning with you on this matter. The fact is I have changed my plans.”

Elizabeth sucked in several deep breaths in an attempt to reclaim her equanimity. Feelings akin to those she suffered when she lost her beloved sister Jane began to encroach upon her. For a while, Mr. Darcy had made her forget what it was like to suffer such heartache. She was beginning to cast off the cloak she had woven in order that she might endure the pain of losing her sister. With him, she had been willing to open her heart—to trust.

For months after losing her dear sister, she had promised she would never suffer a similar pain again. What better way to protect oneself against the pain of heartbreak than never to expose one’s heart at all? Recognising that she had been on the verge of surrendering her heart to Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth was relieved it had not got that far. She desperately wanted to believe that it was better that she had insisted upon protecting her heart even though her heart was whispering a different refrain.

I will not debate this matter with him. I do not need this. Mr. Darcy made me no promises. If I trusted him, it is merely a sign of my weakness and lack of steadfastness to my own resolve. Her disappointment was evident, and she was angry with herself because of it.

She started feeling constricted. Oh, how I hate feeling this way! Escaping Mr. Darcy’s presence was as essential as her need to breathe. She turned away from him and immediately was startled by the touch of his hand on her arm. She shuddered. “Pray leave me alone!” Without pausing for even a moment to look back at him, she walked away.

Hours later, Richard found Darcy pacing the floor of his apartment. Darcy halted in his tracks and looked daggers at the older man. “You must allow me to thank you for blurting out our plans to leave Bosley to Miss Bennet.”

Richard threw his hands in the air. Cynicism rather than contrition marred his speech, “I take it the course of true love did not run smoothly after I took my leave.”