“Colonel Forster looked into the matter, of course, but they were unable to determine who administered it.” He paused, as though weighing how much to disclose. “There were several young ladies whom he had taken advantage of. At least two are carrying his child.”
Elizabeth drew in a quiet breath.
“He had promised marriage to more than one of them, yet it was clear he never intended to honour any such promise.” Bennet’s mouth tightened. “The colonel said there were several suspects, but none could be definitively named. Too many had the opportunity—not only the ladies themselves, but their brothers and fathers as well.”
He folded his hands upon the desk.
“The colonel suspects someone discovered Wickham’s intention to desert and resolved to prevent it permanently.”
The room fell quiet at this pronouncement.
Darcy nodded at hearing this, standing and stepping to the window. He looked out for several moments before finally turning and saying, “I cannot feel sympathy for him. He was given any number of opportunities to improve his lot in life, but he preferred to take advantage of others, never taking any responsibility for his actions. He wanted the life of a gentleman without any of the obligations.”
Bennet leant back in his chair, studying the man before him anew.
“He claimed you left him destitute,” Bennet said, his gaze sharpening as he searched Darcy’s face for offence, wounded pride, or any other crack in the polished exterior that might reveal the man beneath it.
“I recall my daughters and others speaking of a denied living. In fact, in the winter, Elizabeth was quite vociferous about how little she liked you because of your mistreatment of that cad. Perhaps you had a reason, but could you not have warned us that we welcomed a snake into our midst?”
Bennet watched as Elizabeth’s eyes slid shut and her cheeks bloomed in apparent mortification. He wondered about that and noticed the glance Darcy cast his second daughter. For a brief moment, he wondered if this might be enough to break the engagement. He had not yet decided whether such an outcome would be disaster or deliverance.
With that thought still unsettled in his mind, he was surprised when Elizabeth opened her eyes again. Instead of shame, he saw they blazed with determination.
She did not rush to speak.
Instead, she stood and walked to Darcy, standing beside him and placing her arm through his. She murmured something to him—though he could not tell what—before turning back to her father.
“Papa, you are correct that Lieutenant Wickham was a snake,” she said. “He flattered us all, and, like so many, I believed the lies he told me about his mistreatment. However, in April, I encountered Mr Darcy again and learnt the truth of the matter from him.”
Elizabeth related a portion of what she had learnt—carefully omitting all mention of Georgiana—yet allowing her father sufficient insight into Darcy’s character. “Had you listened to me then, I might have said more,” she concluded quietly. “But you dismissed me.”
The words struck him more keenly than any accusation she had made earlier that day. He remembered too well the ease with which he had laughed, the complacency with which he had waved her concerns aside.It had been simpler to indulge his own amusement than to consider that his daughter might see what he had chosen not to.
There was no girlish indignation in her tone now, only calm certainty.
Bennet felt a pang of regret. And no small measure of pride.
His daughter stood before him not as a spirited girl to be indulged, but as a woman to be respected.
“Very well, Lizzy,” her father said at last. “I have been forced to acknowledge that I have not been the father I ought to have been. But what would you have me do now?”
Before Elizabeth could answer, Gardiner interjected. “What does the neighbourhood know?”
Bennet glanced at his brother-in-law, recognising the deliberate turn in the conversation. Gardiner had never been one to linger long in recriminations; he preferred action to reflection. Though Bennet suspected he deserved a great deal more censure than he had yet received, he could not help but feel a measure of gratitude for the reprieve.
“The servants know that I was obliged to go and retrieve Lydia, so they must suspect she has misbehaved, though they do not know the full story. Of course, they have heard Mrs Bennet lamenting that Lydia has not married, but they will dismiss her complaints concerning Lieutenant Wickham as nothing more than her usual alarms, particularly if the news spreads that the man has died. I suspect the arrival of Mr and Miss Darcy will give everyone far more to speak about.”
“Well, that is good,” Gardiner replied. “If you will go and formally announce the engagement, we can begin to make plans for the wedding. That will redirect any talk from Lydia onto Elizabeth, and with Mr Darcy the bridegroom, any speculation about Lydia ruining herself should quickly be silenced. We can let it be known that you went to Brighton to fetch her back for her sister’s wedding.”
Bennet glanced instinctively at Elizabeth as if asking for her permission, but before he could determine anything, Mr Darcy spoke.
“Might I speak with Mr Bennet for a few moments?” He did not look at Bennet as he spoke, but at Elizabeth.
Bennet was struck by the expression in the man’s eyes as they rested upon his daughter, and he felt an unexpected measure of satisfaction at the sight. Mr Darcy might not have been the match he would once have chosen for Elizabeth, but it was plain that the man cared for her. Watching this made him a little more resigned to the match, even as he had hoped his Lizzy would have remained with him forever. He knew, however, that it would not come to be.
Eight
Darcy watched Elizabeth leave the room beside her uncle. She paused only long enough to glance back at him, and he answered her look with a small, reassuring smile—possessing more confidence than he felt. When the door shut behind her, the air in the room seemed to shift.
