An accident. Just as Dr. Sculthorpe had described the deranged criminals he had studied.
“I suppose the bees flew their hive into my bedchamber with no help from you?” Elizabeth asked.
“It was an accident. That was not meant for you.”
“You confess you meant them for Lydia, then?” He fell into that trap much too easily.
Wickham bit his lips. Beads of sweat glistened over his skin. “I … I—” He stepped closer to the door where Lydia suddenly appeared, hands fisted on her hips, red-faced, and blocking his path.
“Lydia!” He stumbled backwards.
“Hello, George,” she spat.
Recovering extraordinarily well, he opened his arms. “Darling! I am so relieved you are not dead.”
Lydia launched forward, her palm striking against his cheek with a resounding smack. “You tried to kill me, you wicked scoundrel! I loved you! And what do I get for my affection? A man who would rather hang from the gallows than continue married to me — a man who swore he would always cherish and care for me. You swine!” She raised her fingers, poised to make good on her threat to claw his eyes out, when Wickham raised his arm.
Her bravado failed. Lydia immediately cowered, dropping and curling herself into a ball on the floor.
Everyone moved. Elizabeth and Jane dove to cover Lydia. Fitzwilliam seized Wickham’s arm, twisting it behind his back until he squealed like a piglet. Mary called for Hill to send the footman to fetch the constable, if he had not already done so. Kitty and Mama fretted when they were not insulting Wickham. Bingley and Papa stood guard at the door, blocking any hope of Wickham’s escape.
Elizabeth’s heart ached for her sister, whose quickness shrinking into a smaller target bespoke of a great deal of practice.
Whether Wickham had meant to strike his wifebefore them all or defend himself from her pointy fingernails, it did not matter. The way Lydia shook under Elizabeth, the tears she could not stop, testified to his guilt.
CHAPTER 34
The next few hours pulled Darcy in all directions. Thank goodness for the Bingleys. They consoled and calmed while he ensured Wickham was secured in the gaol to await the arrival of his regiment’s envoy.
Mr. Collins crept away, no doubt to inform Her Ladyship of their deception and the woes to have befallen his cousins of late. Darcy prayed they would all depart now for Rosings, for he had every intention of marrying Elizabeth on the morrow. Scheming saboteurs and murderous mates would not stop him nor alter what he set into motion after a brief call at the parish, upon which he continued to Longbourn.
Mr. Bennet held Lydia to his side protectively, and the way Mrs. Bennet looked upon her spouse with bold-faced admiration satisfied Darcy that the Bennet household would remain a calmer environmenteven after the machine’s battery was exhausted. He could even imagine them staying at Pemberley without cringing and seeking ways to avoid their company.
The Bingleys returned to Netherfield Park, vowing to return shortly for dinner. Mrs. Bennet made certain to include Darcy in her dinner plans, an invitation which he gladly accepted for the excuse it gave him to linger in Elizabeth’s presence.
Pulling her to the side, he relayed the details of his trip into the village and Wickham’s conversation with the constable.
She worried her bottom lip. “He insisted he had nothing to do with the carriage?”
“But he admitted to the other offenses,” Darcy countered.
“Yes, and rightly so. But not the carriage,” she mumbled more to herself than to him.
“What troubles you?” He wondered if it was the same sore that bothered him.
She met his gaze fully. “I believe him. I do not want to, but I do.”
Yes, that was it. As tempting as it was to blame all the troubles of the world on Wickham, Darcy could not in good conscience make potentially false claims against him. Wickham would face the consequences of his crimes. Nothing more.
The carriage did not fit. Wickham had the means, but he lacked motive.
“If Wickham did not cut the axle, who did?” he asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. “I do not know. But I suspect Lady Catherine knows more than she is letting on. I cannot help but suspect her continued presence in Meryton is more involved than an attempt to force you into a marriage with Miss de Bourgh. Especially when she has made so little progress on that front.”
Darcy took a deep breath. He had hoped to avoid a confrontation with his aunt until Richard returned. That had been the plan. But something was keeping Richard away longer than expected, and Darcy wanted to end this sordid business as much as Elizabeth did.
“The hour is late, and I am spent, but I want to be done with this. Do you wish to accompany me to the inn?” he asked.
