Page 58 of Sweet on Mr Darcy

“Vice?” Wickham was outraged. “My habits are no different than any other young man!”

“Your gaming debts are your own responsibility. You know this.” Mr Darcy’s voice trembled.

“My own responsibility?” Wickham shouted. “You speak of responsibility after all these years that you have raised me to the expectations of a gentleman, but then refuse me the means to live like one?”

“I give you enough to live respectably.” Darcy Senior’s voice still wavered. “You choose to waste it on vice. I have attempted to assist you in respectable professions, but you refuse to work. You accuse me of indulging my son, but he works hard for Pemberley, for hours, every day. If you cannot make it work in the army, George, I do not know what shall become of you.”

“How can I make it work in the army if I cannot indulge in the same activities as the other men?” Wickham’s voice was scathing. “If I cannot pay these debts, the other men will turn upon me. It will not matter how well I do my duties if the other men are against me!”

A crash came from the room as Wickham’s tone turned so venomous, so uncontrolled that Elizabeth stopped thinking entirely. She turned and ran up the stairs as fast as she possibly could, and into Georgiana’s room without knocking.

“Lizzy!” Georgiana turned from her packing in shock.

“What is the meaning of this, young woman?” Mrs Younge drew herself up from her chair.

“Come with me now!” Elizabeth gasped, grasping Georgiana by her wrist.

Georgiana resisted instinctively. “What–”

“Come with me, Georgie!” Elizabeth insisted. She turned back to Mrs Younge with a forbidding glare. “If you know what is good for you, you will stay where you are.”

Elizabeth’s countenance silenced the woman at once, and she sank back into her chair in surprise. Elizabeth dragged her friend out into the corridor to the stairs. One did not need to go all the way down to hear Wickham now.

Georgiana heard Wickham too. Not charming…not laughing…not tender, loving, or kind. Wickham was furious. His tone was cruel, desperate, and vicious.

“You are a selfish old man!”

Georgiana froze.

“Do not make a sound, Georgie,” Elizabeth warned. She led the girl by the hand down the stairs and into the shadows by another door. They saw a frightened maid at the end of the hall. Elizabeth waved the girl away. Hidden from view, they listened.

“George, I have never seen you like this, but you cannot behave this way and think I will reward you. I will not pay gambling debts. You know this. Now take yourself from this house until you have calmed yourself and are ready to apologise.”

“Not without what I came for,” Wickham insisted. “I need it.”

“You shall have nothing.” Darcy Senior was firm.

“You owe me. You have not done half as much for me as you have Darcy! It is cruel!”

“Fitzwilliam is my son. He is a good and hardworking man with sound principles. He is right about you. I ruined you with indulgence. I pitied you too much for losing your parents. I am sorry, George.”

Then…a horrifying sound…a dull thud…like violence meeting flesh.

Georgiana stifled a strangled cry. Elizabeth clapped a hand over the crying girl’s mouth as she held her fast. There was silence from the room, then footsteps and the slam of the front door as Wickham fled the house.

Georgiana was already moving. “Father!”

Elizabeth stopped her, only temporarily. “Georgie. This is not the only conversation I have overheard today.”

Her friend’s eyes were wild in fear and confusion.

“I was coming to your room to find you, and I heard you planning with Mrs Younge,” Elizabeth explained quickly. “I fled down here, not knowing what I should do. Then I heard Wickham.”

She looked into her friend’s eyes. “You must confess to your father what you were planning. You will not make me do it.”

Georgiana whimpered and fled to the study. Elizabeth followed her to the door, her heart pounding, praying that Mr Darcy was unhurt.

Mr Darcy was half upright beside his desk, holding his head.