So palpable was his anger that Darcy could not prevent his hands from fisting this time. Georgiana took a step back, her mouth gaping open.
“She did not know,” Darcy stated. “So kindly reserve your ire for me.”
Wickham’s head whipped around. “Oh, I have ire for you aplenty.”
“Unfortunately for you, expressing it will change nothing.”
Wickham’s mouth curled.
“George, d-dearest,” Georgiana stammered. “Please, I am certain my brother will see us well cared for until I can convince Richard to sign. Or…or until I am old enough.”
Wickham’s eyes, locked with Darcy’s, narrowed. “That is a fair point. You will see I am cared for, Darcy?”
“How much do you want?”
“Ten thousand a year.”
“Two.”
Georgiana looked back and forth between them. “I am certain you can be more generous with us than that, Fitzwilliam.”
Wickham flicked a glance at her. “If I have to keep her somewhere, twelve.”
“Three.”
“Keep me somewhere?” Georgiana squeaked. “I will be with you.”
Wickham held up a hand, palm facing her. “Quiet. I am speaking with your brother, and I want nine thousand.”
“But what do you mean, if you must keep me somewhere?”
Dropping his hand, Wickham pivoted his ire. “I mean, if I am forced to speak with you, listen to you, or even see you on any regular basis, I want more money. To compensate for the imposition.”
“I-imposition?” Georgiana’s wide eyes shimmered. “You want to be with me. You l-love me.”
“How is it you are so stupid?” he muttered and turned back to Darcy. “Eight, if she remains here with you.”
Wrenching his gaze from his sister’s heartbreak, Darcy said quietly, “Three, and you will make no mention of your union with my sister. She will be permitted to pretend, at least until her twenty-fifth year, that she does not so much as know you.”
“Three thousand did not go so far as I had hoped last time. I want five, and I will be happy never to speak of your sister. For this year, at least.”
“What do you mean, last time?” Georgiana whispered. Tears trailed down her cheeks, but she made no effort to brush them away.
“He refers to when I paid him for a living he did not want.” Darcy scrubbed a hand over his face. Five thousand pounds ayear. Quite the sum, and he had no thought Wickham wouldn’t repeatedly raise the amount. Even for Darcy, five thousand pounds was an imposition. A sum which would impact his tenants, even.
Across from him, at Wickham’s shoulder, Georgiana continued to cry.
Darcy dropped his lids, blotting out her white cheeks and stunned eyes. For now, five thousand must do. In truth, he would pay more if needed. Darcy wanted…no, he needed, Wickham away from his sister and out of his house.
“Well?” Wickham prompted.
“Five thousand, and you leave now.”
“If I leave, how do I know you will keep your word?”
Darcy leveled a cold stare on him.
After a moment, Wickham swallowed. He held up both hands, palms out. “Very well. I believe you.” He backed away.
