“I did not hear from Mr Wickham for over three years. Upon the decease of Mr Tate, I assigned the living to a Mr Silva, an excellent man with a sterling record and a highly estimable character. Mr Wickham came to me then, demanding I honour the terms of my father’s will and divert the living to him. As a reminder that all between us was settled, I had my solicitor in London surrender to Mr Wickham a copy of our previous agreement, settling upon the three thousand pounds. Mr Wickham was outraged, and I can well imagine his anger was proportionate to his financial distress at the time.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes in shame. The conviction of the truth of his words was dawning on her, flooding her with humiliation. Mr Darcy’s version of the events filled in the holes she had never detected in Mr Wickham’s retelling. For a woman who prided herself on seeing people as they really were, discerning their flaws and foibles, she had been utterly blinded to the gaping faults in Mr Wickham’s character.
Darcy paused. What he had to say next was the most vital piece, as well as the most harmful. Georgiana’s reputation hung in the balance, her very future at stake if the wrong ears heard. He studied the young woman in front of him. Her sweet face was wreathed in remorse, her chin tipped low, her being exuded gentleness and humility. As she waited for him to continue, her eyes slowly came up to his. Intelligent understanding shone back to him. He took a bracing draught of air and continued.
“Georgiana was only eleven when my father died. I was young myself, and at two and twenty was ill equipped to raise her alone, as well as take over all of my father’s responsibilities. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who is four years my senior, was named in my father’s will as a co-guardian. My father had great faith in both Richard’s abilities and his affections for Georgiana, as do I.
“We have watched over a tender young girl as well as any two bachelors could, I daresay, though I know she has longed for what I could not give her. Wishing to provide opportunities for more varied society, this past summer we took her from school and sent her for three months at Ramsgate to enjoy the sights and make new acquaintances. We carefully chose a companion to stay with her, a Mrs Younge. She came highly recommended, but we were sadly deceived in her allegiances.
“I decided to visit her as a surprise, and I thank God to this day that I did. I found Mr Wickham in the drawing-room alone with her… Mrs Younge nowhere to be found… he was.…” Darcy’s voice broke. He brought his hand to his mouth, blinking rapidly. Elizabeth leaned closer, concern and fear for her new friend beating in her breast. “He was taking liberties a gentleman would never take, Miss Bennet. He intended to shame her, should she attempt to change her mind.” He looked to her, begging her to understand without saying more. Elizabeth swallowed hard and made a grim nod, signalling her comprehension.
“He had convinced her that he was in love with her, and Georgiana was persuaded to agree to an elopement. Wickham had made arrangements for a private coach to take them to Gretna Green on the very next day. He intended, I suppose, to pay for the journey out of her rather ample pin money, as we found he was at the time rather destitute. His object, of course, was Georgiana’s dowry, which is thirty thousand pounds.”
Elizabeth gasped at the figure. She and her sisters had at best only a thousand each after their mother’s death, paid in an annuity, and nothing at all from their father due to the entail. The sense of the differences of their status pressed on her, but weightier was her conviction that she had been entirely unjust in her outraged defence of a wicked man. George Wickham was everything that was pleasing in conversation and delightful in company, but this evidence of his iniquity forced her to acknowledge that she had been deceived. Her eyes sought the ground, unable to face Mr Darcy. “What of Georgiana?” she murmured.
With a deep sigh, Darcy rubbed his temples and continued. “I made it clear to Wickham that I would not release her dowry under any circumstances to him. The conditions of my father’s will and her young age give me some leeway to administer her settlement as I see fit, and Miss Bennet, I can be very inventive. He sought, of course, to blackmail me by either marrying her or ruining her. She was but fifteen, Miss Bennet.
“She remembered his association with our family from happier days, but I had perhaps unwisely shielded her from his less honourable deeds. She paid the price for my error. She believed herself in love, and you must know by now that Georgiana was an easy target to someone who knew the right words to say. A young girl such as herself, deprived as she has been of a mother’s love and a father’s care, is… very vulnerable, Miss Bennet. Mr Wickham left Ramsgate without even attempting a farewell to her—of course, I would not have permitted it in any case, but his interest in her was purely selfish. To say she was broken-hearted is to put it lightly.”
He stopped. Elizabeth had said almost nothing during his entire recounting. Her eyes were on the carpet at her feet, tears glistening on her cheeks. “Miss Bennet?” he inquired softly. “Are you well?”
Her gaze slowly met his. “I did not know. Poor Georgie… no wonder she was so troubled!”
A deep sigh of relief escaped him. She believed him. He watched her tenderly as her whitened face flushed bright crimson at the cheeks. She bit her lip and dropped her eyes again. Hesitantly, he leaned closer to her, reaching for her hand. “Miss Bennet?”
Her eyes fluttered back to his, shame and remorse written across her features. Moistened lips parted, but she did not speak. She let him hold her hand—her fingers slack and lifeless in his, but this time she did not pull away.
Encouraged, he spoke from his heart. “Miss Elizabeth, please forgive me if I speak too boldly, but you must not blame yourself, as I fear you do. Mr Wickham is a practised deceiver, and you are not by nature a cynical person. You had no reference, no other source of information by which to detect the truth. Any blame must be mine for failing to check him or to warn others.”
“I-I should have known,” she whispered miserably. “It was improper for him to say the things to me that he has said! He flattered my vanity, and Iwantedto believe him. I cannot believe I was so easily taken in.” She looked steadily into his drawn countenance. “I was far too ready to believe ill of you.”
He gave her a tight little smile. “Clearly, your opinion of me was already poor. Miss Bennet, I know I have given you offence. I do not know where my first error lies, but you spoke of arrogance. I had never thought of myself as such, but my trust in your judgement is such that I must allow it to be true, at least in appearance. I have always believed that pride in my family, in my conduct and in my responsibilities to be well and good. I have striven to remove myself from foolishness, iniquity, and slackness of character. Coupled with the fact that I find it difficult to mingle easily in company and awkward to make new acquaintances, perhaps I do appear... forbidding.”
She gave a short, bitter laugh then sniffled a little, wiping her eyes with the bared fingers of her other hand. “Mr Darcy, I believe I have never heard you speak so much as you have just now! You ought to make a practice of it, you know, as the more you speak, the better a person can finally understand you. Had I a more accurate notion of your purposes, I might not have made it a point to amuse myself to your disadvantage at every opportunity. In my defence, you do provide ample fodder for my rather unfortunate sport.” She arched an eyebrow, a pitiful return to her accustomed playfulness.
His breath loosened a little, and he began to smile timidly. If she was attempting again to tease him, it had to be a positive sign. He gave a gentle squeeze to the hand he still clasped, then released it before she could grow uncomfortable and pull away. He fumbled for words, not knowing what to say next.
Despite her jesting comment, her shoulders slumped, and she fixed her eyes at her feet, her cheeks still stained a dusky pink. At this point, he could not be certain whether it would be best to press for more conversation or back away, granting her some time to consider all she had heard and its implications.
His answer came in a soft knock at the door. Beckoned to enter by Elizabeth, Colonel Fitzwilliam poked his head into the room, speaking to his cousin in a low voice. “Darcy, I think it best we take our leave. Georgie would like to return to Netherfield to rest, and a Mr Jones is just arrived to tend to Mr Bennet. He is asking for Miss Elizabeth.” The colonel’s gaze shifted to Elizabeth, and he acknowledged her politely before removing himself and closing the door.
The pair stood, awkwardly trying to decide what to say to one another to gracefully end their tête-à-tête. Rather than speak, he gave her a nervous bow, and she quickly returned the courtesy, avoiding his eyes. She felt his gaze steadfastly following her as he held the door for her to precede him out of the room.
The party in the drawing-room had already broken up. Bingley was still in the doorway of the drawing-room, taking his reluctant leave of Miss Bennet and creditably ignoring Mrs Bennet. Colonel Fitzwilliam was helping Georgiana into her pelisse in the foyer. The girl’s pale face brightened when they came into view, and she took Elizabeth’s hands. “Thank you so much for your kindness, Elizabeth,” she murmured with a return to her shyness.
“Georgiana, I am so glad to have made your acquaintance today.” Elizabeth met her blue eyes with a sincere smile. “Will you come tomorrow for dinner? My mother tells me she has invited your party.” Curiously, Elizabeth found she did not dread the event as she had before.
Georgiana’s eyes turned to her brother, doubtfully. Knowing the question before it could be asked, Elizabeth quickly added, “I understand it will be a small gathering. Only your party and my own family will be in attendance. We are in hopes that by tomorrow evening, my aunt will have arrived from London, and I believe you will like her very much.” Elizabeth felt a little swell of smug satisfaction at her intention of introducing Mr Darcy’s fashionable sister to her aunt, whose husband was known to him to be in trade. She glanced to him to witness his reaction, but his face revealed neither revulsion nor interest. Instead, he seemed to be focused only on Georgiana.
The girl smiled and nodded her acceptance, and she was duly escorted to her waiting carriage by her cousin. Darcy gave another quick bow to Elizabeth, joined by a hopeful little tightening about the mouth, then departed himself without waiting for words.
The carriage ride back to Netherfield would have been a very silent one, had Bingley not decided to share his joy. While he waxed romantic about Miss Bennet’s beautiful face and sweet disposition to Fitzwilliam, two of his listeners were focused instead on another sister.
Chapter 12
GeorgeWickhamlaiddownhis losing Whist hand, shrugging apologetically to his partner across the table. Denney made a disgusted noise and tossed his own cards back into the pile to be reshuffled.
“That’s the rubber.” Captain Carter grinned and gathered up the cards, as well as his winnings. His partner, young Saunderson, grinned boyishly. It was the best luck the fellow had ever had. “Another?” Carter’s hand poised over the deck, his questioning glance hovering on each man’s face.
