B00CO8L910 EBOK (24 page)

The other officer laughed and grabbed at his friend’s arm. “I am the major and you are the colonel.” The two men guffawed raucously and thanked Wickham for stepping in and retrieving their swag for them.

Wickham made a magnificent leg and accepted their praise and thanks graciously. Then Masters offered Wickham a chair at their table and invited him to sit for a game. “To thank you properly as a gentleman for your steppin’ in, don’t you know.”

He accepted.

Wickham smiled as he took a seat. He held his arm up and called to the barkeep for a bottle of his favorite and one for his new friends. They raised their glasses to his generosity and shuffled the cards again. The barkeep sent over a bottle for each of them and an empty glass for Wickham.

After pouring his own glass, he surveyed the officers over the rim as he brought it to his lips. They were not nearly so drunk that they could not play cards but too bosky to suspect being fooled again. He was satisfied.

For the next few hours, the three men grew stinking drunk. One got richer, the other two poorer. The bar filled with their loud teasing and ribald comments. The two officers were cautious with their drinks and often managed to empty them onto the floor unnoticed. Wickham, however, seemed to be well on his way to oblivion and a bad headache. With all the finesse of supposed men on the cut, the officers conducted their maneuvers of loosening Wickham’s tongue. The conversation grew more bawdy and licentious as the evening progressed.

Near three in the morning, the two officers chortled good-naturedly as they passed the last of their coin to their new friend Wickham. Leigh turned to the other officer. “I suppose it was not our night for Lady Luck, my friend.”

They stood and swayed dangerously a few times before they steadied themselves and reached to shake Wickham’s hand.

“’Tis a pity to lose, but you’re a fine chap to lose to if’n a man has to.” Major Whitman covered a gurgle from his throat and placed a hat crookedly on his head.

Wickham was satisfied with his evening of easy pickings from two poor card players. “Any time you gentlemen come back, I would be honored to sit with you.” He swayed a bit himself as he stood.

Leigh looked as if he was going to fall asleep on his feet, but he nodded and said, “Maybe next time we meet, it will be your luck that is down, George Wick . . . umph . . . Wickham.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed the spittle from his chin.

The two officers attempted a bow but only just managed not to fall to the ground in the process. They turned and sang an old army tune as they stumbled out the door, thanking a patron for holding the door as he exited before them.

Wickham could hear their loud singing for several minutes after they left. He opened up his own purse and swept his winnings into it. Throwing a small pile on the bar for his friend and another bit for Jem and Stoney at the other end, he walked out the back door and up a side alley to a staircase belonging to the boarding house where he kept his rooms.

On the other side of the block, the two officers, as sober as a Sunday, followed the ‘patron’ from the pub into a waiting hired hackney.

“Well, what do you think?” The patron, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, took off a heavy, well-worn coat and hat.

Major Whitman and Colonel Masters shook their heads. The major answered, “The man is the worst kind of sleaze I have ever met! I do not know how he considers himself a gentleman after what we heard in there.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded in agreement. “Thank you both for enduring. I suppose it was worse than I thought, so I ought to owe you now.”

Masters answered with a laugh. “After meeting Wickham, I would dare say putting him away would be reward enough for me.”

Whitman agreed and added, “We will come by your house tomorrow and give you a full report. I am sure you did not catch everything.”

Fitzwilliam nodded. “I did not. I could not risk his recognizing me, but I could not stay away; you understand.”

The hackney slowed and finally stopped; they exited and walked the distance to their lodgings, leaving Richard to continue on his way back to Mayfair.

* * *

“And you are sure?”

Colonel Fitzwilliam walked over to the fireplace and leaned against the mantel before he spoke. “As sure as I can be. I was there, you know. I saw Wickham finish off an entire bottle himself. I saw him ape-drunk.”

“What did he say to your friends?”

The colonel waved him off. “Too depraved to repeat. But there was never any hint or suggestion of Wickham laying a hand on Lydia.”

Darcy drew in a slow breath and held it. His heart began to beat faster as he was filled with a sense of hope he had not allowed himself to feel since getting his cousin’s letter summoning him to London. Could he really be free to go to Elizabeth now? Free in his conscience, too, that Wickham was as despicable, wicked and villainous as ever but not guilty of murder? He released the air he had been holding and looked at his cousin.

“What exactly did they say to him?”

“They bragged about supposed conquests with Haymarket ware . . . and hinted of convenient, gently bred ladies and” — Richard’s face contorted with disgust — “Even spoke of the need to lay a firm hand on ladies sometimes. All the things we previously discussed. All manner of falsehoods that would provoke Wickham to share his own stories.”

“And I assume he did.”

Richard mumbled a low oath. “Oh yes, he had many stories of his own to share. Of course, his stories are likely true or at least exaggerations.”

“And nothing he said was familiar to the story with Lydia?”

“I questioned them thoroughly, Darcy. I assure you, if Wickham had said anything even remotely suspicious, I would have had his hide.”

Darcy nodded, satisfied. “Then you do not think he did it.”

“I did not say that,” Richard mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Oh hell, Darcy! I do not know. Something does not seem to fit. Nothing points to Wickham and yet everything in my gut does. Satisfied?”

No, Darcy was not. It was how he felt, too. He picked up the book on his desk and looked at it. It was the one Elizabeth had been reading the day he found her in his study. He had not returned it to the shelves yet. It was beginning to seem they would never know whether Wickham was guilty or not. That was no reason for Darcy to hold back any longer though. A slow smile grew as he looked down at the plain brown binding.

“So I am free to go to Hertfordshire then.”

Richard laughed despite his foul mood. “I suppose you are. Go. Claim your beauty. Who knows, maybe I will get lucky and she will refuse you, professing a fondness for your devilishly handsome cousin the colonel.”

Darcy’s quiet growl only made his cousin laugh louder. His mind brought him easily back to the feel of Elizabeth in his arms when she was overwrought at Hunsford; Elizabeth smiling at him in his studio at Pemberley, admiring his art; Elizabeth responding to his kiss with sunbeams in her hair. His face spread into a wide grin.

The roguish glint in his eye caught Richard off guard, and his laughter died.

“I do not think that will happen, Richard. I believe I can safely say where the lady’s preferences lie, and they are
not
with you.”

The colonel grinned before his face turned serious. “You deserve her, William.”

Darcy acknowledged the heartfelt sentiment. He knew his cousin only called him ‘William’ under the most staid of situations. He was always ‘Cousin’ or ‘Darcy’.

Darcy was thrilled to be returning to Hertfordshire — to return to Elizabeth. His heart ached with want to see her lovely face again and to witness the spark in her eyes light up at his entrance.

He stood and walked towards the bellpull to summon his butler. When Mr. Carroll arrived, he asked that the man convey his request for Georgiana’s presence in his study.

While he and his cousin waited, he poured them each a glass of wine and toasted his future happiness. He felt freer than he had in weeks and now was eager only to go one place, to be with one person.

Georgiana opened the door and exchanged greetings with her brother and cousin. “You wished to see me, William?”

Darcy smiled at his sister, studying her briefly before answering. She had a powerful combination of innocence and mischief in her eyes. She was no longer a girl but a growing woman. He liked nothing more than to make her happy, and so he said, “Yes, dear. I wanted to inform you to have your maids pack your bags. We leave for Hertfordshire tomorrow.”

Georgiana’s eyes lit up as she looked from her cousin to her brother. “Then your business is concluded?”

“As much as it can be, Sprite.” Richard smiled and kissed her cheek. He made his good-byes and winked at Darcy as he left the room.

Georgiana turned to her brother. “Are we really leaving then?”

Darcy smiled. “Yes, we are really leaving.” He walked over to the wall behind his desk and removed a painting from its hanging to reveal a safe in the wall.

His fingers paused momentarily as he retrieved the key from his breast pocket when his sister said, “I am so delighted, William. I cannot wait to see Elizabeth again. I am glad this wretched business of yours is over. What was it anyway?”

Darcy cleared his throat as he turned the key and opened the heavy metal door. “Nothing for you to concern yourself over, dear.” He quickly retrieved a small velvet box from the vault and placed it on his desk in front of his sister, effectively deflecting her curiosity from his private matters. “But before we can go, there is something I wanted to show you — to ask your opinion.”

Georgiana’s eyes filled with tears as she recognized her mother’s jewelry case. It had come out of the vault a number of times before. There were a few pieces that her mother had intended for her, and William had given them to her last year. The rest of the pieces, she knew, were left for when he took a wife.

Her small hands came up to her mouth, and she looked at her brother with great tenderness. Darcy’s throat was thick too, and his eyes were suspiciously shiny as well. He cleared his throat as he attempted to continue. “As you know these were meant for the woman I shall take as my bride.” He paused to regain his composure. She nodded at him to continue; her happiness for him was endearing. “As you may have guessed — indeed, orchestrated in some ways — I hope to ask Miss Elizabeth Bennet to be my wife.”

Georgiana squealed as she ran around the side of the desk to embrace her brother. He immediately wrapped his arms around his little sister and held her tightly to him. His voice was full of emotion as he whispered into her hair, “Should you like such a sister, Georgie?”

He felt her head nod up and down as she nearly sobbed, “Oh yes, William!” She pulled back to look up at him. “How soon can we leave? Do you think we can manage to leave tonight?”

Darcy smiled as he pushed a strand of her hair away from her wet cheeks and dabbed at them with his handkerchief. “I wish, Poppet. Tomorrow will come soon enough; you will see.”

Georgiana’s tender emotions were then transformed into bundled energy as she excitedly thought about having Elizabeth as a sister.

“Oh, it will be so wonderful! We can go shopping and to the park and stay up all night talking — just like real sisters!”

Darcy bit the side of his lip and lowered his brows. “Ha! She may become your sister, Georgie, but you will do well to remember that first she will be my wife.” Georgiana waved her hand in dismissal at her brother’s words. So he added, “You may go shopping and to the park. But I will not have you keeping my wife up all night.” He did not say and would not allow himself to think about keeping her up himself.

“Oh, pssht!” Georgiana laughed. She turned to the velvet box on her brother’s desk and remembered. “Oh, can I see it?”

Darcy was confused by her change of topic. “See what?”

Georgiana looked at him as if he had bricks for brains. “Mother’s ring of course!”

Darcy, recalling himself to the business before him, laughed. He lifted the lid of the box to reveal a number of exquisite diamond, ruby and sapphire necklaces, bracelets and matching rings. Tucked in the corner was another small velvet box that he reached for.

He opened the box and displayed the ring for his sister. It had been his mother’s ring and his grandmother’s before that.

Georgiana acted as sensibly as any young lady presented with such a ring was expected to do. She
oohed
and
ahhed
as she tenderly took the box in her hands and turned the ring around to catch the light from the sun streaming through the windows. It sparkled brilliantly, and she confirmed that she was sure Elizabeth would love it.

Darcy was filled with a sense of satisfaction that he had never felt before. He took the ring back from his sister and placed it in his coat pocket. He closed the velvet box and returned it to the safe once more. After it was locked and the picture replaced, he turned to his sister.

“Well?”

Her brows lowered in confusion. “Well, what?”

“Do you not have orders for your maid? Dresses to pick, trunks to pack?”

Georgiana jumped up to kiss her brother’s cheek, laughing at the reminder. She bit her lip while she grinned widely.