Page 78 of Bitterness of Spirit

His opponent brushed his hands over his coat then turned towards Wilson, waiting. Their host returned to his chair, sipped from his glass and stared at them. Eventually, he spoke.

“I also wonder why Darcy is still here. Perhaps, it is because he paid your debts in the past and then caught you trying to run away with my niece, who is under my protection. Or perhaps he is ashamed that his father’s godson turned out to be such a poor excuse for humanity.”

Each of his words was poisonous, and he again abandoned his chair, moving towards Wickham, who stumbled back in alarm and fear.

“Mr. Wilson…” he said reluctantly, moving further away.

Wilson suddenly hit the desk so hard with his open palm that two glasses fell over and broke. His startled companions frowned.

“Are you playing games with me, boy?” Wilson thundered. “Do I look like a fool to you? Have you tried to delude me by eloping with my niece in order to seize money from me? Did you intend to hurt my family for personal gain? Have you lost your mind? I have killed scoundrels for less than that!”

His voice and the cold darkness of his blue eyes were more menacing than his words. Darcy felt chills down his back, and the colonel looked at him with a frown of disbelief.

Wickham’s mouth opened, but no sound emerged. He blinked several times and took another step back.

“If I had the slightest hope that you have any affection for my niece and would try to be a good husband to her, I would give you the money in a heartbeat. If you had asked me honestly and made a plan to repay me, I would have given it to you. But you think you can exploit my care for the Bennets to your profit?”

“Sir, I only wish to be certain I can provide Lydia the life she deserves…” Wickham continued.

The colonel addressed Darcy. “Damn—he is an idiot. He cannot even see the danger he is in.”

Mr. Wilson continued. “Wickham, hear me well. I am not certain what past dealings you have had with Darcy or the colonel. I am not sure how these honourable gentlemen dealt with you before, but I am not jesting with you. Take my words seriously, and fear them! Lydia will never marry you, no matter what happened between you. Nothing could induce me to allow such a marriage as long as I live. And If I ever see you near me or my family, that will be your last day of life. That you may take as a promise.”

“Mr. Wilson…”

“I am done here, Wickham. Be grateful that I allow you to leave, despite your offence to me. Others have not been as lucky! Now go before I change my mind. Trust me, you do not want to debate with me further, nor do you want to be in my presence any longer. If you prefer, we may settle this matter on a field of honour. The choice of weapon is yours. Just be gone now!”

“Sir, I…” Wickham tried, but Wilson turned his back. Wickham looked at Darcy and the colonel then at Wilson again.

Neither he nor the others doubted the sincerity of Wilson’s threat—no, his promise.

Wickham hesitated a moment, mumbled something unintelligible, attempted an apology, then hurried to the door and disappeared into the night.

The room was again silent. Wilson moved to the window, yet Darcy and the colonel were at a loss for words.

“How could your father have allowed himself to be deceived by that pond scum? Even his speech is grossly friendly; he made me sick from the first time I met him. There is something nauseous in his entire being.”

“Please bear in mind that my father knew Wickham from the day he was born. He grew up as a lively, handsome young boy and seemed much attached to my father. He was always there, providing my father rare companionship. My father had few friends outside the family. He spent most of his life at home, taking care of my mother and then mourning her and taking care of Pemberley’s management. And Wickham always guarded his behaviour in my father’s presence.”

Wilson’s face turned white. “I know he had few friends. I did not intend to judge him. I was just wondering...”

“My father never saw Wickham as I did...his true self.”

Another pause followed; then Wilson turned to them. “But I do judge you both. If you knew Wickham’s true nature, if he had already taken advantage of your generosity, if he had already deceived you and then slandered your name with filthy gossip, why on earth did you not beat him senseless before now? How does he still dare to be arrogant and impertinent towards you? For heaven’s sake, he should be terrified of you rather than treat you with such effrontery.”

“Surely you speak in jest, Mr. Wilson. We could not possibly attack him. That is not the way to solve differences,” Darcy replied.

Wilson’s eyebrow rose in challenge. “Really? And what is ‘the way’? Staying silent while he offends you? Maintaining secrecy while he spreads lies about you and makes people despise you?”

“I believe Mr. Wilson has an excellent point,” the colonel said to a dumfounded Darcy. “Perhaps killing him would be too much, but a good beating would teach Wickham a useful lesson. Last summer he surely deserved it.”

“Yes, well…I shall consider it in the future if necessary,” Darcy replied, disconcerted. “For the present, I shall make certain he is kept under close watch to be certain he does not ruin other people’s lives. I shall hire a man for that.”

“Very well, do as you wish. Your skills in managing difficult situations are certainly better than mine,” Wilson agreed. “The hell with him for now. Let us have another drink and then retire for the night. We have a ball to attend in a fortnight, and as Elizabeth said, I am counting on you to dance every set and entertain the ladies. You must keep yourself in good shape until then.”

The younger men looked at him, dumbstruck, then at each other, lost and puzzled. Eventually, they accepted the glasses of liquor, emptied them, and left for home. It was obviously not the time for further debate with Mr. Wilson.

Chapter 19