Page 81 of To Win Her Affections

Wickham gaped at him, then turned to Darcy—not unexpected from Darcy’s perspective.

“You have Miss Lydia. Take her and leave me be.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head, even as the tread of boots on the floor outside the room told them all of the arrival of Fitzwilliam’s men. Within moments, they entered and manacled Wickham, much to the satisfaction of everyone in the room.

“It amazes me, Wickham,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, “just how blind you are to the consequences of your actions. Now that we tracked you down and you have foolishly placed yourself within reach of military discipline, did you suppose that I would just let you go?”

“Darcy!” pleaded Wickham, but Darcy was implacable.

“Not this time, Wickham. Now you will receive the wages for your actions as you should have years ago. You have preyed upon your fellow man for far too long.”

Wickham’s features twisted into rage. As the men dragged him from the room, he chose the easiest target a coward could choose.

“Enjoy the rest of your life, little Lydia,” cried he, struggling against his captors. “I have ruined you forever. It is just as well, for no sane man could withstand your silliness—”

Wickham’s diatribe was halted abruptly, the sound of flesh meeting flesh ending in a cry of pain. Then Wickham was out the door, still screaming, but his words were now unintelligible.

In an action Bennet had not expected, Lydia turned to him and buried her head in his shoulder. Not a tactile or overly affectionate man, Bennet awkwardly patted her back, murmuring a few words of comfort. He had retrieved his daughter in better condition than he had a right to hope. The question now was what to do with her.

“MR. BENNET,” SAID DARCY, taking control of the situation at once, “I believe it would be for the best if we returned your daughter to Gracechurch Street at once.”

Mr. Bennet gave a curt nod. “The sooner she is in Lizzy’s care, the better.”

At that, Lydia’s head came away from Bennet’s shoulder, and she peered at her father with evident dread. “Lizzy is here?”

“At my house, Lydia,” said Gardiner. “She has come to offer you support.”

“Oh, Lizzy will be most put out with me!” fretted Lydia.

Darcy exchanged glances with Mr. Bennet, startled and more than a little curious. It seemed that upsetting her elder sister was more of a concern to Miss Lydia than even upsetting her father. Darcy did not suppose that Miss Elizabeth was as stern as that suggested, but perhaps she could use that to instill some sense in her sister.

“Come, Lydia,” said Mr. Bennet, keeping her close with an arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Let us return to Gracechurch Street where you may receive Lizzy’s loving ministrations.”

Whatever Miss Lydia knew about her sister, she did not appear eager to receive the loving ministrations that Mr. Bennet had promised, though she did not protest. Mr. Gardiner followed them as they departed, leaving Darcy with his cousin and his burly footmen, both of whom appeared like the cat that got the cream.

“Confess it, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam, his wide grin nothing less than Darcy would have expected from his cousin, “that was so enjoyable that you wish you had done it years before.”

“Except for the young lady’s distress,” replied Darcy, though the notion of Wickham facing accountability was no less than satisfying.

“Do not concern yourself with Miss Lydia,” replied Fitzwilliam. “She is made of sterner stuff than this. I dare say she will be herself again within a fortnight, bedeviling her father with her wild ways.”

“If you will pardon me, I shall hope not. She will be my sister, after all—if she cannot behave, she must be hidden from society, and that will not be comfortable for anyone.”

“She is not irredeemable,” said Fitzwilliam, slapping his shoulder. “She is just high-spirited and imprudent. Perhaps this business will teach her something.”

Darcy had a few notions about how to help the situation, but he remained silent. It was, after all, none of Fitzwilliam’s concern. Instead, he turned to Thompson.

“Thank you as always for your assistance.”

Thompson returned a wide grin. “For the chance to deal with Wickham, I may even pay you, Mr. Darcy.”

Knowing his sentiments exactly, Darcy nodded. “Please get one of Mrs. Younge’s maids to go through the room. Bundle all Miss Lydia’s effects and ensure they are returned to her at Gracechurch Street.”

“And Wickham’s belongings?” asked Fitzwilliam, though he sported an evil grin.

“Fit for nothing more than the rag man, I should say,” replied Darcy. “Wickham will not require possessions where he is going—I doubt there is anything to save, regardless.”

“By his own admission,” agreed Fitzwilliam, “he was in dire straits.”