Consequences (41 page)

He shrugged. “As for what he has said of me, I shall ask for Elizabeth’s advice as to which course I should follow to rehabilitate my reputation in Hertfordshire. At least, the militia is leaving to go into winter quarters at Brighton, so Wickham shall soon be gone. But now I see a branching of the road ahead, and we can delay our decision no longer. If we take the left branch, we could soon be home at Netherfield and can send a note over to Longbourn saying we have arrived early. Or, we could take the right fork to Longbourn, as you suggested, where we could interrupt the party Mrs. Bennet is giving to bid the militia farewell in order to whisk both Miss Bennet and Elizabeth from their company into ours. Which choice should we make?”

“I have been thinking,” replied Bingley with a straight face, “and I now believe we should take the left fork. After all, we would not want to go where we have not been invited, and we can always wait until tomorrow to see Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth.”

“Right then,” Darcy said, his face equally deadpan. “Shall we race, and the winner gets to be announced first?”

Bingley made no reply in the gathering twilight, but his horse suddenly bolted ahead of Darcy, who let out an indecorous hoot before urging Marlborough into a run. Bingley made the turn just ahead of Darcy, who was attempting to make up lost ground. They were both laughing as they pulled up in a spray of gravel in front of the entry to Longbourn, and Bingley’s early lead allowed him to bound to the ground and lay a hand on the knocker to Longbourn just a step ahead of Darcy.

***

Darcy’s humour disappeared soon after he and Bingley stood at the door to the drawing-room, perusing the crowd inside before entering. The butler had obligingly agreed not to announce them since they told him they would not be attending the party and only desired a few words with Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth before returning to Netherfield. The reason for Darcy’s sudden loss of humour was a sudden spike of alarm caused by the sight of George Wickham standing at the side of the room and wearing a smile Darcy remembered only too well. It was not the mere sight of Wickham that prompted Darcy’s alarm; it was the fact that he was standing beside and bestowing his predatory smile on Elizabeth’s youngest sister, Lydia.

Bingley entered the room and immediately changed direction, having spied Jane standing in the corner with her mother and Elizabeth. Darcy followed, but he did not lose sight of Wickham and therefore saw his sudden start of surprise at seeing him, followed by the slightest of mocking bows in his direction. As irritating as the gesture was, Darcy was again alarmed as Wickham looked back at Lydia, who was still talking to him in great animation. Wickham’s former smile now returned, and it was a smile such as a cat might give a mouse he captured and was simply toying with until the right time. Another observer might only see Wickham’s genial, good-humoured smile. Even Mr. Bennet, who stood nearby watching the crowd with an expression of wry detachment, appeared to notice nothing untoward, but Darcy had grown up with George Wickham. He recognized quite well the expression the other man wore from previous experience, and he had no doubt of his intentions. That was the real meaning of the slight bow; Wickham knew Darcy caught him, but he was arrogantly confident that his erstwhile childhood friend could do nothing to impede him.

That,
Darcy told himself firmly,
is yet to be determined, Lieutenant Wickham!

His cheer was restored by the sight of Elizabeth’s recognition and her quick smile. She instantly broke free from her mother and sister to make her way to him through the crush, her hands already outstretched in welcome. Not even his previous concern dampened the feelings welling up inside him at seeing the smile on her face and in her eyes.

Thus, it was some minutes before Darcy returned to the subject of Wickham. He and Elizabeth stood by a window where the crowd was a little thinner, their faces turned toward the window and the full dark of the Hertfordshire night, giving them a measure of privacy.

“Elizabeth,” Darcy said, “I need to speak to your father and to you also, and it must be done immediately and in privacy. Do you think you can convince him to meet me in his library?”

“I believe so, William,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “In fact, I am rather surprised he has not already made his escape. But why the serious expression? Is something amiss?”

“I do not know for certain, but I am worried,” Darcy replied. “I need to ask some questions of you both, and I also need to inform you of certain intelligence I should have shared earlier. Could you walk out with me as if you were escorting me to the door and then return to speak to your father, all without alerting or alarming Mr. Wickham?”

“Mr. Wickham?” Elizabeth said in sudden concern. Her voice grew somewhat colder as she said, “Is his mere presence so disturbing, then?”

Darcy shook his head. “Your father rules your home, Elizabeth, and he is the judge of who is welcome and who is not. Despite my past with Mr. Wickham, I shall not gainsay his right to do so. But I have information that cannot wait since I believe the militia departs on the morrow.”

Elizabeth looked closely at Darcy, but what she saw seemed to satisfy her since she put her arm through his and turned him toward the door. “Very well, then. We shall leave and deposit you in my father’s library before I go to fetch him.”

Her first task was accomplished immediately, and she left him alone after lighting several candles. Her second task was more difficult, and it was almost fifteen minutes before she returned with her father. Darcy looked up quickly from the book he had been perusing and greeted both of them.

“My daughter tells me you wish to speak with me, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet said slyly. “Having second thoughts about my Lizzy? I do not blame you; she was quite a handful to raise, and no doubt she will be a similar challenge to take as a wife.”

“Father!” exclaimed Elizabeth, who showed a scandalized face even though she was inwardly pleased to see her father jesting with Darcy. He really had no other men of his acquaintance who were nimble-witted enough to understand the hidden meaning so often conveyed by his conversation, but evidently, he and Darcy had reached an understanding.

Darcy smiled as he looked at both of them, and he saw the sadness and loss Mr. Bennet was hiding by his dry comments. “You will not be rid of me that easily, Mr. Bennet. I have gentled spirited horses before, and your daughter should respond to similar treatment.”

He only smiled as Elizabeth fixed him with her firmest glare, then he held up the book he had been perusing. “Your library is quite admirable, sir, more than many a larger one that I could name. Even so, I believe you will be pleasantly surprised when you visit us at Pemberley and sample its offerings. Several generations have gone into the building of it, and it might well keep you occupied for any number of weeks.”

“I shall most certainly do that, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Bennet, smiling. “Indeed I shall.” Then he sobered, remembering the seriousness with which Darcy dispatched Elizabeth on her errand. “But now, of what did you need to speak?”

Elizabeth and her father sat in their usual seats, and Darcy sat in a comfortable chair by the window.

“When I arrived, I witnessed Mr. Wickham—Lieutenant Wickham, now, I believe—attending your youngest daughter. Has this been going on long?”

Mr. Bennet frowned. “Mr. Wickham? Lydia? Why, I do not believe I have noticed any particular regard on his part. He is a great favourite with the ladies, you know.”

Elizabeth spoke up. “I noticed it, Papa. The day after I returned from London, we walked into Meryton where we happened upon Mr. Wickham. It seemed at first to be a chance meeting, but I had occasion to notice Lydia’s rising excitement as we approached a particular store, the very one where Mr. Wickham made a sudden appearance. Lydia is not nearly as clever at hiding things as she imagines, and I could not help but wonder whether the meeting had been previously arranged. I asked Kitty and Mary, and they said Mr. Wickham began paying more attention to Lydia a few weeks previously, and they could not walk into town without him turning up unexpectedly. Previous to that, she had appeared more interested in other officers.”

Darcy nodded. “I suspected as much. So this change in Mr. Wickham’s attentions appeared shortly after our engagement became known.”

Elizabeth started in surprise. “Why, yes, it appears so. But I had not made any connection between the two events.”

“I believe you will be able to by the time I have finished my narrative. Now, to begin with, you are both undoubtedly aware that Mr. Wickham and I have known each other for some years before coming to Hertfordshire.” Both Elizabeth and her father nodded in agreement with this statement.

“And you are also likely aware that George Wickham’s father was employed by my own good father to manage all the Pemberley estates for many years. The elder Wickham was a respectable man and very competent in his service, with the result that my own father agreed to be the young boy’s godfather as a reward for faithful and excellent service. He also supported George’s education, sending us both to the same school and later to Cambridge. This was an opportunity that would not have been available to George since his father was unable to afford anything similar. His wife, you see, had control of the family purse and was always spending beyond the income of her husband. When she finally deserted her husband and son, it was found she had left debts all over Lambton, which my father generously settled.”

“Some of this is new information, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Bennet, “but much of it we have already learned.”

“I understand, sir, and please forgive my reviewing of the facts, some of which may be known to you. But I should have made known the details of my acquaintance with Mr. Wickham and his connection with my family much earlier. I have only today learned of the exact details of the falsehoods he has promoted against me, and I believe I must lay all the particulars before you so you may understand why I believe your youngest daughter is in danger.”

Both Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth exclaimed their concern and surprise at this statement, and Darcy begged them to allow him to continue his story, to which they reluctantly agreed.

“As I said, my father was of material assistance both to George and to his father. Even more, he was fond of George’s company since George has always been blessed with the most engaging manners. He is at ease and is most amiable in almost every situation, which is in marked contrast to my own struggles, especially when in a crowded room. And so my father wished to provide for George’s future security, hoping the church would be his profession. He had in mind a living that would soon become available in the village of Kympton, and he mentioned this might be made available to George if he took orders.” Darcy could see that much of this was unknown to either Elizabeth or her father, but he did not allow it to affect his recitation. He had to make them understand!

“For my part, I have known for many years that George was entirely unsuited for a life in the church. I saw George as my father never saw him, especially at Cambridge. In many ways, George is more truly his mother’s son than his father’s. He could not conceal his vicious propensities and lack of character from me as he could from my father. I was of the same age, and I had too many opportunities to see him in unguarded moments, unlike my father. In any event, when my father died, in his last will he mentioned the living I spoke of previously.

Darcy paused for a moment and then continued, “There was also an immediate legacy of one thousand pounds.”

“One thousand pounds!” said Elizabeth sharply, looking at her father. “Mr. Wickham never mentioned that, Papa.”

“I daresay he did not,” remarked Darcy dryly, “for then you might wonder why he was near destitution when he came to Meryton. A young man of prudence could make a thousand pounds last for a considerable period, though I believe George was able to consume the entire inheritance within a few months, if his Cambridge days were any indication. He probably also did not mention the debts of almost one thousand pounds he left behind at Cambridge, debts which I discharged when I came home, so as not to trouble my father.”

“No, he definitely never mentioned any of this,” said Mr. Bennet. “And one thousand pounds is indeed a prodigious sum. Pray continue, Mr. Darcy.”

“The reason I am fairly certain his inheritance did not survive past a few months is that George’s father survived mine by only a month and a half. George also inherited at least some money from him. But, within a half-year from the death of my father, George wrote to inform me he had finally decided against taking orders in the church. In return for not seeking the living at Kympton, he suggested a more immediate return ought to be possible. He expressed an interest in studying the law, and he noted the interest on one thousand pounds would not be nearly sufficient to support him in that endeavour. Of course, I believed the one thousand pounds was no longer in his possession, but we nevertheless entered into negotiations over how to settle his claim. I will not pretend I actually believed George was sincere in his desire to study law, but I did hope, at least for my father’s sake, that such might be the case. Certainly, I knew he should not be a clergyman.

“Eventually, we came to an agreement. For the sum of three thousand pounds, George agreed to resign all claims to my assistance in the church if it ever became possible in the future. I paid him the agreed sum, and he disappeared from Pemberley. In addition, I discharged his debts in the nearby village of Lambton, since my opinion of him was now too ill to ever invite him back to my home.”