“Now that is where you are mistaken! She wished for me to wed Anne, and for Georgie to marry some viscount. It was my father who promoted an engagement to Georgiana.Hewas responsible for that announcement, I am sure of it, attempting to force my hand! He had no idea that I was not in the country, for Miss Bennet and her uncle managed things well in my absence.” He grinned rakishly. “Gardiner even agreed to post a letter about a week after I sailed, so Father never missed my correspondence.”
Darcy’s fists clenched. “I have heard enough! Even were you not intentional, you have been complicit, Richard. Edward Gardiner has gained substantially by these affairs.”
“Darcy!” Richard was rubbing his forehead, “Gardiner told me when I first approached him that he had a new business opportunity that would demand much of his time. It had nothing to do with you! Why, I even have a letter from him here somewhere, talking about this new textiles agreement he has with a merchant in Brussels. Egad, how conceited are you, that you assume everything is about you?”
Darcy inhaled slowly, closing his eyes. Those had been Elizabeth’s words, almost verbatim. In his early days as master of the estate, he had learned that if two people he trusted advised the same, it was likely a wise course. The question remained: did he trust Richard?
“Darcy, you must let me help you,” Richard’s voice now pleaded. “Two heads are better than one, they say.”
“Richard,” he slitted his eyes open, gazing thoughtfully out the window. “You mentioned that you knew Captain Noronha, and that he was the one who released me. That is not the whole truth of the matter, for there was another.”
He turned to see his cousin’s face suddenly bloodless. His mouth gaped helplessly for a breath, then he seemed to swallow and stare at the floor. “The captain’s sister,” he answered brusquely, and spoke no more.
“And she was married to the son of the very Vasconcelos of whom you spoke. Are you still so certain that the connection is innocent? Perhaps the affair had gone sour, and I was desired to return home at precisely this time to complicate matters for whomever Vasconcelos had previously taken as his partner. Perhaps you have been blinded yourself, Richard.”
Richard bolted to his feet, trembling with a fierce rage. “The lady is innocent! What is more, she is as much a victim of Vasconcelos and Noronha as yourself, if not more so. Do not you dare profane her name with such slander!”
Darcy stiffened in surprise, stepping back toward the safety of his window alcove. “You do not consider the connection suspicious?”
Richard turned about, as if searching for something to throw, and then settled for a sound punch to the pillow on which he had sat. “Forget I ever offered to help. My carriage leaves immediately. Give my regards to Georgiana and Miss Bennet.” And with that, he stalked out, muttering curses all the way.
Chapter forty-eight
Weston
“MrWickham,youarelate!” Mrs Annesley stood back from the door of the cottage, a frown lining her features.
The gentleman—if he was such—swept from his mount with a gallant bow. “Forgive me, Mrs Annesley. The fault was not mine, but I cheerfully accept your censure. May I enquire after your health, madam?”
“You may not.” She extended a hand to receive what he had brought her, but drew it back in dismay when he merely approached with empty hands.
“Mrs Annesley, you would not send a caller away without refreshments, would you? Of course not, for only a perfect gentlewoman could have found employment as Miss Georgiana Darcy’s companion, and you, madam, are indeed a gentlewoman.” He saluted with a flourish of his hat and advanced, giving her no option but to fall back.
“Mr Wickham, this is most irregular!” she objected. “You are not permitted to enter the house. That was the agreement!”
“It was,” he concurred with a smile and a satisfied nod at the comfortable room. “Matters have altered somewhat. I find myself in need of your assistance, Mrs Annesley.”
She crossed her arms. “Do you think I would help you, Mr Wickham? I know too much about you!”
“I think,” he turned about with a cheerful grin, “you have little choice, Mrs Annesley. I require a safe place for a few days, and I’ve a mind that the room off the back of your kitchen will serve nicely.”
“What have you done? Gone and killed a man this time?”
“Me? Oh, no, no, no, Mrs Annesley.” He began to stroll about the room, touching the little knick-knacks and baubles he found arrayed thereabout. “Our generous benefactor has encountered some difficulties, that is all.”
“Generous! We both know very well that he has not been the source of funds for either of us.”
“Why would he be? That would be pure folly, Mrs Annesley, for he intended to come into his new fortune by summer. What matter a few pennies here and there from the Pemberley coffers?”
“It matters because I was not told beforehand that such would be the arrangement.” She withdrew a handkerchief and dabbed at her mouth, her face suddenly flaming in mortification. “Had I known, I certainly never would have agreed to any of this!”
“Would you not? And pray, would you have confessed your brother’s condition to your employer to openly beg assistance, or would you have simply let the French pox take him?”
The woman bent over her handkerchief, but solemnly reached her open hand back toward him. “Have you brought the medicine, Mr Wickham?” she asked hoarsely.
He grumbled and withdrew a phial from his pocket. “This is the last of it. I’ll not perform the service again, Mrs Annesley, not while half the country is hunting for my head, and there is no more money forthcoming to make it worth my while.”
She clasped the glass bottle, tilting it to watch the mesmerising, thick silver fluid. “It does nothing for him,” she murmured aloud, as if to comfort herself. “A waste of money. I should never have consented….”
