Stealing a glance at his face, Elizabeth was alarmed by what she saw. He was red and tense, his brows low over his eyes and his mouth set tightly. His jaw clenched so hard she could see it flexing. She had the sudden urge to touch his face, to relieve him of whatever pain he was in and offer what comfort she could. Before she knew what she was about, she had stepped halfway in front of him and her hand was caressing his jaw. His eyes opened wide in surprise and then softened as he looked upon her.

“Tell me what troubles you, Fitzwilliam. Do not carry this burden alone.”

He sighed again, resumed their walk, now with her hand clasped tightly under his on his arm, and began. “Wickham was the son of my father’s steward, an excellent man. He and my father had grown up together, his father had been steward before him, and their relationship was a steady one. My father was Wickham’s godfather. George was always getting into scrapes but when we were children, it was harmless. As we got older, he became more and more unruly, less scrupulous. My father refused to see him for what he was. Old Mr. Wickham had died and my father promised to care for George. He felt loyal to his friend and he was fond of young Wickham.

“Father wished for him to join the church and had planned for him to take on the living at Kympton, a village near Pemberley. Being of an age with him, I knew Wickham ought not be a clergyman. He performed poorly at university and when my father passed, he left all charade of goodness behind. Not a week later, he swaggered into my father’s study and asked what the old man had left for him.” Darcy clenched his hand and Elizabeth gasped at the callousness of such behavior.

“My father had left him a thousand pounds and if Wickham took orders, he would receive the living at Kympton when it became available. George scoffed at this, not wanting to be a clergyman any more than I wanted him to be. He said he wished to study the law and asked for the value of the living, which he was given. I sent him on his way with three thousand pounds in addition to the legacy. I know not how he lived, but I can imagine.”

Elizabeth shook her head, shocked at Wickham’s behavior and at her own stupidity for believing him. Had she always been so gullible? Out of a sense of solidarity and overwhelmed by her own confusion, she briefly laid her head on Darcy’s shoulder. She had stood upright again before he could react, but he was touched by the gesture.