Clearly content at his expected profit, Wickham continued, “I cannot wait to take the story of the great Fitzwilliam Darcy’s criminal connection to the papers. Watch him struggle to keep his composure while his privileged name is dragged through the gossip sheets andwhispered derisively about in drawing rooms.” He turned to Connell. “Thanks to me, you have not one, but two criminals. I shall expect a larger portion of the prize.”
“You will get what we agreed upon. Not a farthing more,” Connell snapped.
Wickham did not like that answer. He would try again later, Darcy knew.
“Lizzy’s sister’s married tothat?” Alex said, her voice dripping with scorn.
Darcy scowled. Would that Lydia had made better choices, she might have been happier. It pained him to know that Wickham would never love her more than he loved himself. Her immaturity would drive him to loathe the sight of her before long if it had not already. Elizabeth would always worry about her youngest sister, and Darcy would always feel guilty he had not saved Lydia before she let Wickham ruin her.
“Where is Mrs. Wickham?” he asked.
Wickham shrugged. “Probably at the mantua maker getting fitted for her new gown. Spending money I do not yet have.” He raised a finger into the air, his tone bitey. “At least we shall arrive at my new post in the north in style.”
Darcy was surprised Wickham was willing to part with money not intended to feed his vices. A new gown was promising. “Why are you not with your regiment?”
“I volunteered to ride as a messenger, leaving mefree to roam.” His lips quirked insolently. “I cannot help it if people are not where they are supposed to be all the time.”
Richard would love to hear that. He would take great pleasure writing Wickham’s superior to put him on a humbler duty.
Rather than continue down that trail, which was certain to lead to more disillusionment (for while Darcy had long ago withdrawn his friendship, he did not know how to stop hoping that Wickham would change), he asked the question that had troubled him since Elizabeth had received word of Wickham running off with Lydia. “Why her?”
Wickham did not reply immediately. “Why who?” He knew very well who Darcy referred to.
More pointedly, Darcy asked, “Why Lydia Bennet? She has no fortune, no connections.” Nothing to tempt Wickham to stay once he had his way with her.
Alex jabbed him in the ribs. “Lizzy told us all about her … and yer scurvy self.”
Darcy rubbed his side, wincing at his blunder. If Wickham caught on that he was Darcy, not Nick, he would be useless to protect Alex.
Wickham shrugged. “It just happened.”
“Do you not realize that your actions always come with consequences? She’s little more than a child.” The same as Wickham, who was content to live off the generosity of others and benefit fromtheir lenience. Of the two, who would grow up first? Would they ever?
“You sound like a Darcy,” Wickham spat, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face Darcy fully. “If I did not know better, I would think we had the wrong brother.”
Darcy’s pulse pounded in his ears. He should have held his tongue.
Connell cast him a worried look. “He had better be Blackburne. If he’s not—”
“He’s Blackburne, all right. Darcy is too far above my company. He would never condescend to talk to me as much as Blackburne has.”
Alex gave Wickham a dirty look. “Ye really are scum.”
“And yet, here we are. I shall get a fat prize, and you shall hang.” Wickham turned to face forward.
Alex leaned closer to Darcy, whispering into his ear, “Ye must love Lizzy a great deal to endure him as a brother.”
His lips turned up and his heart softened. “I do.”
“Ye must love Nick a great deal to endure me as a sister.”
Darcy bit back a laugh. Truer words had never been spoken. But as he looked at Alex sitting beside him on the hard bench, looking as repentant as he had ever seen her, he could not equate her with Wickham. As contentious as Alex was, as many problems as she had caused him and Elizabeth, her often misguided and frequentlyimpetuous heart was loyal to the friends in her circle. He nudged her with his shoulder, dropping his voice, “You and Nick shall always be welcome in my home.”
Her chin shook. “I’m sorry for … everything. I know I don’t deserve yer kindness when I’ve been nothin’ but a plague to ye.”
An apology? Darcy did not have to wonder how difficult it was for Alex to admit to her wrongs. She looked positively miserable. Much like he had felt when he had barged into her cabin to find Elizabeth on theFancy. “I could do nothing less for my sister.”
Her eyes shot up to him, and a smile spread over her teeth. Shaking her head, she said, “Yer very loyal, Darcy. For Nick’s sake, I’m glad. He’s always longed for a place where he truly belonged.” She looked down. “I’m relieved—and proud—ye’ve sense enough to treat him like the good man he is. He never had it in him to be a pirate. He built up his skills with the sword to scare off ne’er-do-wells and stop fights before they started.”
