Influence & Grace | Mr. Darcy [PPZ]

XIII

thirteen | 13.

A HEART SO HARDENED.

It did not take long to find Mr. Wickham, though it required a keen eye to spot him.

    He had positioned himself within the farthest corner of the ballroom, partially obscured by a cluster of men engaged in idle conversation.

The faint candlelight did little to illuminate him, his presence almost an afterthought amid the resplendence of the room.

Yet, the moment he caught sight of Elizabeth and Mary, his posture shifted. He peeled himself away from the wall with a slow, deliberate grace, the pallor that had shadowed his features moments before melting into something warmer, more inviting.

His transformation was nearly seamless—so effortless that it might have gone unnoticed by most. But not by Mary. Her lips tightened ever so slightly as she studied him.

Something about Mr. Wickham unsettled her, though she could not quite name the source of her discomfort.

    He was the picture of charm, his manner easy and his smile polished, every bit the amiable gentleman he presented himself to be.

And yet, there was something beneath it all—something carefully concealed behind the glint of his gaze.

If Elizabeth noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor, she did not show it. Her smile grew wider as he approached, her excitement barely contained.

    "You came!" She breathed, her voice light with relief.

    "As I said I would." Mr. Wickham returned smoothly, his hands clasped loosely behind his back.

    "I feared that Mr. Darcy's presence might deter you." As Elizabeth spoke, Mr. Wickham's gaze shifted toward Mary. For a split second, something unreadable passed across his face.

    Was it apprehension? Irritation? He appeared wary, though he concealed it well.

Mary met his gaze evenly, unflinching. Had he not expected Elizabeth to tell her?

   "Oh! Yes, I told Mary of it." Elizabeth said quickly, as though sensing his hesitance. She turned toward him with an apologetic look, her fingers curling slightly at her sides. "She is not one to gossip, though, so you need not worry."

There was a brief pause before Mr. Wickham responded, the delay almost imperceptible. Almost.

He swallowed, then shook his head, offering a leisurely chuckle. "I take no issue with it," he assured them, "so long as nobody else outside of our present company learns of my... misfortunes."

He exhaled lightly, his smile returning, though it did not quite reach his eyes. "But if Darcy wishes to avoid me, then it is he who must go, not I."

Elizabeth laughed lightly, a sound meant to ease whatever lingering tension remained between them. Mary chuckled as well, though hers was more measured, her amusement far less genuine.

Mr. Collins then arrived so stealthily that Mary very nearly leapt from her skin when he suddenly appeared before them. His presence was as jarring as the loud, triumphant tone he adopted upon finding Elizabeth.

    "There you are, Miss Bennet!" He exclaimed, slightly out of breath but beaming as though he had just accomplished a great feat. His eyes flitted between the three of them, but it was Mr. Wickham who drew his scrutiny the longest.