Page 74 of A Stronger Impulse

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Page 74 of A Stronger Impulse

“Disgraced,” Lizzy repeated coldly, her temper beginning to boil. Who was this man? How dared he make such accusations?

“It is difficult to hear, I know, as difficult as it is to say. Old Mr Darcy was my godfather, you see, and I cannot do justice to his kindness. He brought me up for the church and bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. But when the living fell, it was given elsewhere.”

Godfather! Godfather? No, it could not be! Not Wilson. Not Wexham. Wickham. Wickham!She glanced at Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, expecting to see identical expressions of outrage.

They wore identical expressions…but of avid interest.

“Really?” Miss Bingley breathed. “Do tell!”

“How could that be?” Lizzy questioned. “How could a will be disregarded? And if so, why did you not seek legal redress?”

“There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from the law.” He sighed sadly. “A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr Darcy chose to doubt it—or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation. I cannot accuse myself of having done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, we are very different sort of men, and he hates me.” He adopted a pose of piety. “Of course, he deserves public disgrace, but it shall not be by me. Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him.”

“And yet—” Lizzy began, intending to point out this contradiction, for he had most certainly both ‘defied’ and ‘exposed’; but Miss Bingley spoke over her, tossing Lizzy a snide glance.

“I suppose you know Miss Darcy as well?”

“Oh, of course. I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy, but she is too much like her brother—very, very proud.”

Miss Bingley smiled.

“You must be feeling a good deal of pain now, then,” Lizzy said acerbically, “for you have spoken very ill indeed.”

His eyes narrowed in anger before his charming mask instantly cloaked it. “I do not blame you for disbelieving me, not at all. The world is blinded by the Darcy fortune and consequence, or frightened by their high and imposing manners, and sees them only as they choose to be seen. I have a different bias. Such has been my treatment at Darcy’s hand, it is impossible for me to be an impartial judge, and thus I have no right to give my opinion.” He beamed at Miss Bingley. “But enough of awful subjects! It is the prospect of constant and good society which has brought me to you. Is there any possibility your next set has not been spoken for?”

He led a tittering Miss Bingley onto the floor; Mrs Hurst turned away the moment Wickham’s attention was gone from her, without even a by-your-leave.




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