And there was Mr. Wickham, smiling, snarling insults, and eagerly ready to fight.
“It was something he said. He made it impossible for me to seek such a solution. Now that I know that you are alive, I understand his despair about the matter better.”
“He would have eventually been arrested for bigamy if he made the attempt. But what did he say? I see it weighs on you.”
“The words were most intemperate. I could not speak them aloud to a woman.”
She put a hand on his arm. “I can be your confessor if you need one. We are not papists who can find a priest at need.”
The soothing voice, and the cold feel of her hand on his arm, sent a spark of something into his stomach.
Why not speak? He could not stop himself from doing as she had asked. Darcy began to speak, almost in a fugue state, as he relived those terrible moments. “Georgiana, she wrapped the sheets around herself, and with some embarrassment mixed with joy said, ‘Fitzwilliam, we are to be married. I know this was wrong, but we are to be married.’ But then Mr. Wickham said, ‘shut up you stupid slut, we can’t marry.’ I did not speak immediately—my brain was in a twirl. Georgiana stared at Wickham. Now there was horror in her look. He then said with his best Eton drawl, ‘Well dear old fellow, I’ve rutted with your sister, what shall you do?’ And that reminded me of my role and my duties.”
“He wanted the duel.”
“I thought...I planned to delope. To just shoot into the ground or air. That is what I told myself I would do during the night. But even then, part of me wanted to kill him…I swear, I had not decided to actually shoot him. Not until I felt the blow in my chest. I’d found a man to be my second, a casual acquaintance. I think that he did not believe we would make a serious attempt to murder each other. After he’d helped me into our lodgings, he fled the city, hoping to avoid any chance that his name would be mixed up with a fatal duel.”
“A coward,” Mrs. Wickham said scornfully.
“No, no—I do not blame him. He had no business with either of us, and it is a crime to participate as a second. He insisted to us on the field that we must apologize to each other. To my shame I made no effort to convince Wickham to make some…admission of wrongdoing that might give me permission to avoid the duel without charge of cowardice. I said nothing until we fought. Wickham spoke in reply. He said that we were here to shoot, and not to whimper. He was eager.”
Darcy paused. He fixed in his mind the memory of his boyhood companion’s face as he said that. “I think Wickham hated himself,” Darcy said.
“He said as much to me once,” Mrs. Wickham said quietly. “When we quarreled after the money was gone. And then I never saw him again.”
“We stood across from each other in a grassy little clearing. The seconds paced out the distance. It had rained heavily during the night, and our boots were inches deep in the mud. There were gloomy clouds all about. The agreement had been to use a dropped handkerchief as the signal to fire. When it dropped, I hesitated. I had meant to simply shoot in the air, but something…I do not know. And then I was struck. It was a terrible sensation. A blow that staggered me. But there was no pain. Just the feeling of having been struck, of something wrong. And I looked at him across the clearing. Smoke in the air. He said, ‘Good God, I know I hit him’.”
Darcy was quiet again.Whyhad he decided to aim to kill Wickham then? There was no decision, perhaps. It was simply a thing his body did. The beast within.
“And then you hit your man,” Mrs. Wickham prompted.
“I aimed carefully. It is generally considered unseemly to aim during a duel, but I took the second to sight down my pistol, so that I was convinced I would hit. He stood full facing me, presenting his chest to me, not to theside in the fencing posture that I had stood in. I pulled the trigger. The pistol bucked in my hand from the recoil. There was the smoke, the flash. And he just fell. And only then did I understand what all had happened, and I knew I had done wrong. The surgeon was called, and he looked at Wickham first, but he was dead, killed instantly. Then he examined me, but he was unable to retrieve the bullet. He bound my wounds with bandages. I was able to walk to the carriage, but by the time we returned to Nelson Crescent, I was too weak to climb out. They put me on the sofa, and after the doctor gave instructions to Georgiana he left. And then the next day, you came asking for your husband.”
“A fair enough duel.”
“I know what I should have done. I should have taken Georgiana immediately to Pemberley and ignored Wickham entirely.”
“It would take a remarkable gentleman to let such an insult as you had received stand.”
“Would you have admired such a man? A gentleman who did not defend his sister’s honor after such a provocation?”
“I do not know,” Mrs. Wickham said. “It is more terrible, but also more vigorous.”
“I cannot wholly repent. Even though killing him was evil, I also acted as honor and society demanded. But upon my soul, I should have shot the air.”
“To paraphrase the Holy Writ, when a gentleman shoots you in the chest, incline your head towards him, so that he might blow the brains away as well?”
“Do not make a mockery of it.”
“I assure you, that I have seldom been more serious.”
“I did not need to fight him. It was not a matter of defending my person or that of those who depend on me. Nor was it a matter of national duty. Therefore, it was murder. Yet Ididneed to fight him as a matter of honor, and I defended my sister’s honor and thus my pride is satisfied and pleased. I almost wish they would hang me for it.”
“Such twisted thoughts.” Her smile was rather twisted itself.
“It is your turn to tell a story,” Darcy said to Mrs. Wickham. “What happened after he offered for you. Did your father refuse consent?”
“Yes, I had always been Papa’s favorite, and now he took to calling me even sillier than his other daughters. But he did not absolutely refuse the marriage until he questioned Wickham about his prospects and situation. The answers he received did not please him.”
