Attempting Elizabeth by Jessica Grey Page B

By all means you should be married at Pemberley. You are mistress of it after all. The chapel will be lovely for a wedding—Mother and Father were married there. But tell me, who is your betrothed?” What that even tone of voice was costing him I would probably never know. Darcy was likely seething inside, wanting to tear the head off whatever man had convinced his sister, who was really not much more than a child, to run off with him. And I was about to deliver the death blow.
    Mrs. Younge was looking paler by the moment, but I couldn’t tear my eyes off of Darcy’s long enough to fully look at her. There was something mesmerizing about them. I felt really, really sorry for what I was about to do. If I was to do a character analysis on Darcy I would cite this incident as having changed him, and not for the better. My next few words were going to take a proud and shy man and close him up behind a wall of suspicion and hurt for the next several months. This incident would enhance his tendency to distrust, to find fault with those he met, resulting in him at first alienating the love of his life.
    I truly think this was a defining moment for Fitzwiliiam Darcy. A hurtful and defining moment.
    Well, crap. This really did suck. All I did was fall asleep with a book on my face and now I got to be the one to damage Mr. Darcy.
    “You will never guess! I confess I was surprised to meet with him here as I had not seen him since I was a child—” There it was, the involuntary movement of his hand, the narrowing of his eyes. He had made the connection before I’d even gotten to the name. “George Wickham. Are you not surprised, Fitzwilliam?” I don’t know why I added that last bit. Perverseness?
    Darcy clenched his teeth together. Have I mentioned his jaw? It was very strong and very...well, everything about him was just “very.”
    “I am surprised,” he admitted. “And I am very glad that I know your plans. And, Mrs. Younge,” he turned his head finally to look at my soon-to-be-former companion. “I expect this is the first time you are hearing about Georgiana’s engagement?” The sarcasm was fairly dripping off of his voice. I had a moment of absolute admiration for his ability to conjure up such a dry tone when he was so upset.
    I figured if I was turning knives, I might as well help turn the one in Mrs. Younge’s career as a companion. So I laughed gaily, as if I hadn’t noticed the tension in the room. “Oh, no, Mrs. Younge has been helping me pack. She is quite friendly with Mr. Wickham.”
    “Is she?” Darcy’s voice was suddenly very soft. Soft, and lethal sounding. It sent shivers down my spine. From the look on Mrs. Younge’s face it was sending shivers down hers too, but of an entirely different variety. “Georgiana, I think it would be best if I spoke to Mrs. Younge alone. Why don’t you go up to your room for a bit.”
    I allowed a confused and worried expression to flit over Georgiana’s features. “Is something wrong? Have I done something I should not have?”
    Darcy turned back to me and sent me what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. “No. You have not done anything wrong, but I do need to speak with Mrs. Younge.”
    I stood up, actually relieved to be done with the awkward situation for now. Darcy stood up as well and escorted me to the door of the sitting room. As soon as I was out of sight of Darcy and Mrs. Younge I dropped the lady-like gait I had started out with and ran as fast as I could up the stairs and to Georgiana’s room.
    As I waited in the room, I could hear the maids scrambling up and down the hall, and a raised voice that I knew was Mrs. Younge’s. They were helping her pack her things. Darcy had tossed her out on her ear and had made quick work of it. Not even forty-five minutes after he’d first set foot across the threshold I heard a carriage pull up in front of the townhouse to take Mrs. Younge away.
    About thirty minutes later, the maid named Sarah