“Years, or as I understand from your account, a lifetime of cultivated grandiosity and entitlement, of hiding his true nature behind a facade of charm… Most fell into two groups. One was proud, even boastful of their crimes. The others insisted on their innocence, convinced of their own lie until the rope dropped at the gallows. They were so accomplished at deceiving others, they deluded themselves into believing they were not responsible for their own actions, persuaded by their own twisted minds that their crime was nothing more than an unfortunate accident. They felt no guilt, no remorse, because they had committed no wrong. They would have been better off at an asylum — and I do not say that lightly.”
Richard rubbed his side whiskers. “It is possible. If it is true, it makes Wickham a greater threat than we had supposed.”
Elizabeth stood. “Not if we allow him to think he succeeded.” Far from defeated, she sounded excited. There was a glint in her eye Darcy was familiar with, and had Wickham seen it, he would have been afraid.
“What do you suggest?” he asked, winning him a sparkling smile.
“We have already allowed the villagers to believe something dreadful has transpired at Longbourn. I saywe use it to our advantage. We dress in mourning. We act as though Lydia has died and allow the gossip to spread.”
“But he is pretending to have returned to the militia in the north. How will news reach him?”
“We pretend as though we have accepted his story and send a messenger to his regiment.”
“That will take days. Up to a week,” protested the colonel.
Darcy shook his head. “Wickham is impatient. He could not wait for the tonic to effect its course after one night, exposing himself to the dangerous task of transporting hundreds of bees in order to make another attempt. He will approach us sooner with a credible excuse.”
“I will write to his commanding officer, detailing what we know so he can send an envoy to deal with him,” Richard said.
“I sent a letter detailing the proofs over an hour ago,” Mr. Bennet added.
Elizabeth clasped her hands under her chin. “All we have to do is bide our time and wait for the grieving widower to come to us.”
That was the part Darcy did not like. “What about you? Wickham is not your only concern. Lady Catherine wrote to the director of the asylum. They will send someone.”
That glint again. “As for that,” Elizabeth said, not looking the least concerned, “there is a matter I mustdiscuss with you and the colonel. I would like to know what you can tell me about a certain naval captain….”
Before Darcy could understand where her plan was directed, Dr. Sculthorpe rose. “It seems I must make a little jaunt to London. Miss de Bourgh told us the letter was sent in the post. If I leave immediately, I might delay them a bit … if I am not too late.”
“I cannot thank you enough,” Mr. Bennet said.
“A pleasure,” his friend bowed. “I do hope you keep me informed once the dust settles.” Lifting Elizabeth’s hand, he added, “And I expect to receive a full and detailed account when you are recovered, my dear.” To Darcy, he said, “It has been an honor to meet you. Take good care of this one.”
“I promise I will.”
The doctor inclined his head. “And I am certain you will.” That said, he took his leave.
Bingley spoke up. “So … there is a murderer in our midst.”
Mrs. Bennet fanned her face. “Whatever shall we do? We shall be murdered in our beds before the morrow.”
Elizabeth cut her off before she agitated herself or anyone else further. “Which is precisely why we must act immediately. Mama, will you agree with the scheme? For my benefit? For Lydia’s?”
It was interesting she did not seek his approval first but began with her mother. Had she learned enough about his character to recognize that of everyone in theroom, he was most likely to oppose her disguise? Or was this simply proof that she did not know him still?
Mrs. Bennet replied, “I would do anything for the welfare of my girls.”
Kitty agreed immediately. Elizabeth looked at Mary. “I know better than to ask you to lie, Mary.”
Mary clasped her hands together and lifted her chin. “And I will refrain from uttering a falsehood during this deception.”
Elizabeth was prepared with a counterargument. “Perhaps you may recall the account of Rahab who saved the two Israelite spies lives by … misdirecting … the men who would have killed them.”
Lydia chuckled. “Rahab? The prostitute?”
Darcy clamped his mouth shut. Of course,thatwould be the one detail Lydia would remember of the entire account, of a lifetime of Sunday sermons and the many readings from Fordyce’s sermons to which her pious sister had forced her to listen.
Elizabeth must have had similar thoughts. She rolled her eyes. “That is hardly the point, Lydia. The point is that Rahab was blessed when she and her family were saved from the destruction of their city because of her bravery in hiding the spies. Because of her deception.”
