Which that Season Brings by P O Dixon

Author:P O Dixon [Dixon, P O]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-23T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

His arms crossed, Darcy demanded, “What are you doing, Wickham?”

Wickham tugged at his red coat. Poking his chest in defiance, he declared, “I assure you that I would be doing much more had you not interrupted me when you did.”

“You are a bigger fool than I supposed if you think I would stand by idly and watch you ruin Miss Elizabeth’s reputation.”

“So, you do not deny that you followed me for the express intention of thwarting my purposes.”

“I have no wish to deny it.”

“What does any of this have to do with you?”

“It has everything in the world to do with me. You cannot be a stranger to the fact that an alliance between Charles Bingley and Miss Bennet is practically a foregone conclusion. Do you think I would allow you to sully his future sister’s reputation?”

Wickham scoffed. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Come now, Darcy. You may be able to fool these country nothings, but you do not fool me. I have seen the way you look at Elizabeth Bennet when you suppose no one notices. You want her. It is most unfortunate that your high opinion of yourself places her so far beneath you for any serious consideration. Not that it matters, for the lady barely knows you are alive. How could she when she is blinded by her infatuation with me?”

“I will not deny that you have insinuated yourself into the lady’s good graces with your happy manners. Were she to learn the truth about you, I doubt you would retain her good opinion for even a second.”

“Ah, the truth. And what exactly is the truth, Darcy? That I came within a few hours of marrying your precious sister? That she was perfectly willing to spurn society by agreeing to elope with me? Is that the truth to which you refer?”

“I warned you to never mention my sister’s name again,” said Darcy, assuming an attitude far more menacing than it had been moments before.

There they stood. Just the two of them. The standoff of standoffs ensued.

One man: an officer. Trained to defend, to attack, to kill.

The other: a gentleman. Someone of sense and education. Of noble lineage and extensive patronage. Someone whose power to affect the livelihood of others was immeasurable.

Both, honorable and respectable in the eyes of society and the world in general. That was not, however, how they looked upon each other. In Mr. Darcy’s eyes, George Wickham was a scoundrel, a reprobate, a scourge on society. In Wickham’s estimation, Fitzwilliam Darcy was the spoiled, sanctimonious offspring of a rich and powerful man and one who would be nothing at all if not for the circumstances of an advantageous birth. Equal importantly—one with little regard for those whom he considered beneath him in consequence.

Which would be the victor in a battle of fisticuffs? There had been many a scrimmage between the two of them over the years. Reared together, despite the vast disparity of their stations in life

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