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The weight of guilt threatened to crush Darcy. He maneuvered himself to his chair before his legs gave out altogether.
Now Timson was standing as if he feared he might need to summon a doctor. “I say, your color is a bit off—” The man turned to the sideboard and hastily poured a measure of brandy into a glass. Darcy finished it in one grateful gulp.
“Perhaps we should continue another—” Timson said, watching him warily.
“No. Tell me everything. I must know everything.” He set his jaw and stared at the fireplace, fearing he would break into pieces if he moved.
Timson rubbed the back of his neck. “Very well.” He sank again into the opposite chair. “Although there isn’t much else to tell.”
“What happened to Miss Lydia?”
Timson grimaced. “I do not know. The neighbors said she lived with an aunt and uncle in London for a while but then upped sticks. Perhaps the family knows her whereabouts and isn’t saying, but she had not visited Longbourn.”
Darcy nodded. Most families would not even acknowledge the existence of a daughter who had exhibited such infamous behavior.
“And Wickham?” he asked, fearing the answer.
Timson squirmed uneasily in his chair. “He was cashiered from the militia, of course. Apparently, he had a prodigious quantity of debts. There were stories all over Meryton about gambling, debts to shopkeepers, and merchants’ daughters being meddled with.”
Darcy nodded heavily. Yet another evil to be laid at his doorstep. He had thought it beneath him to gossip, but that had permitted the blackguard to cheat honest men of their money and debauch innocent women. “Where is he now?”
“Nobody in Meryton knew,” Timson said. “And Mr. Wright didn’t know if you wanted that information.”
“I do. Make it a top priority.” Timson nodded. “I can give you a list of the man’s associates.”
The other man’s eyebrows rose at this, but he did not comment.
“And find Lydia Bennet. I must know where she is and if she is well.”
Timson nodded again and made some notes on his papers.
“What happened to the rest of the family?” Darcy feared the answer. His conjectures were horrible enough.
At least when Wickham had pursued Georgiana, Darcy’s fortune—and a bit of luck—allowed him to conceal the scandal. Without any fortune to speak of and at the mercy of their obsequious cousin, the Bennet family must have suffered greatly.
“They buried the father, and the cousin took possession of the estate like I said. But people were still talking about the scandal in Hertfordshire. My cousin said many of the better families ceased associating with the Bennets. A young man who had been courting Miss Katherine gave her up.”
Darcy closed his eyes. All this can be laid at my feet. Through my inaction, the Bennets have become pariahs in their own town. “None of the daughters is even engaged to be wed?”
“There was a rumor that the pork butcher made an offer for Miss Bennet, but she refused him.”
Darcy shuddered. “The butcher! I should say so.” Miss Bennet was a lovely a
nd gracious woman—who might be married to Bingley if Darcy had not interfered.
Timson shrugged. “There’s not many in Hertfordshire as would associate with the family. They’re right lucky their cousin is keeping them on.”
Darcy flushed with anger, refusing to look at the other man until it had passed. This mess was not Timson’s fault; he was repeating what others had said in Hertfordshire. “Surely the scandal will be forgotten eventually,” Darcy said finally. The Bennet sisters’ marital prospects could not have been irreparably damaged. But, of course, their portions were small; their prospects had never been exceptional.
“Perhaps,” Timson said dubiously.
And then there was the matter of Longbourn’s new master. Collins was a loathsome toad. Imagining that sanctimonious windbag as the new master of Longbourn made Darcy’s skin crawl. “How does the new owner behave toward the Bennet daughters?” he asked.
“My cousin said the people in town don’t see the Bennet sisters much anymore, just at church and sometimes at the grocers or the odd assembly.”
The Bennet daughters had been at the center of society in Meryton, a lively presence at every dance or dinner party and welcome acquaintances of all the better families. They should have ended mourning for their father more than six months ago. Were they so completely shunned that they had forsaken society? Or perhaps Collins forbade them to venture out and instead read them sermons all day.
He must have been silent for a long time. Finally, Timson leaned toward Darcy. “I could revisit Hertfordshire and perhaps visit Longbourn. My cousin is acquainted with Mrs. Bennet; she might find a way to visit the house.”
