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“There is no doubt.”
Darcy fought to control his temper. Wickham knew he was committing treason, and yet he dared to court Elizabeth! If only Darcy could race out of the door and strangle the man in his barracks… It would improve everyone’s life.
But he would not do such a thing. Darcy was a civilized man who did not resort to violence, as much as he fantasized about the possibilities. He was a model of restraint. Why is Richard staring at my hand? Glancing down, Darcy found crumbs leaking out between his fingers onto the carpet. He had crushed the chocolate biscuit in his hand, squeezed it into tiny pieces. Well, I suppose it is preferable to Wickham’s skull. Darcy carefully brushed the remaining crumbs onto the tea tray before speaking. “Damn Wickham! He causes no end of trouble.”
Richard raised an eyebrow. “I expected you to be pleased. We have often fantasized about Wickham in prison. Now we have the means to achieve it.”
Darcy cradled his head in his hands. “Under other circumstances I would be quite happy, but…” He made the hasty decision to take his cousin into his confidence. Richard would understand. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is here in Brighton and has been keeping company with Wickham.”
The other man grimaced. “I would have expected her to have superior discernment.”
As would I.
“I would hate to see her fall prey to the scoundrel. Perhaps you should warn her.”
“I have,” Darcy said grimly. “She knows the entire story about Wickham…even Georgiana’s role.” This news prompted Richard’s mouth to drop open. “She does not appear to value my advice, but she might listen to a warning from you.”
Richard’s brows drew together. “Why would she dismiss you? Surely your superior acquaintance with her family—”
Standing abruptly, Darcy paced to the window and stared out at the street. He must tell Richard the story, but he need not witness his cousin’s reaction. “It is possible she believes I make such accusations out of jealousy.” He bit out the words, hating that he must say them.
There followed such a long silence that Darcy wondered if he should confirm whether his cousin was still in the room. Finally, Richard spoke in a carefully neutral tone. “Does she have reason to believe you are jealous of Wickham?”
Darcy glowered at the house across the street. “I made her a proposal of marriage when we were visiting Rosings.”
The gasp of surprise was quite audible. “And she refused you?”
Darcy simply nodded. “In part because of lies that Wickham told her about me.”
“Damnation, Darcy! That is—!” Richard’s voice broke off into an inarticulate grunt.
Darcy rushed on, wanting to divulge the whole
sad story at once. “I subsequently wrote Elizabeth a letter describing my dealings with Wickham, including everything about Georgiana. She claims to have read it. But how can she tolerate breathing the same air as that wastrel, let alone allowing him to—?” He broke off; there was no reason to tell his cousin what he had seen in the colonel’s garden.
Darcy finally peered back over his shoulder, anxious that the other man’s face would be suffused with pity. But his cousin was staring at the carpet, deep worry lines etched on his face. “If we were discussing any other woman,” Richard said slowly, “I might believe she simply demonstrates a lack of discernment, but not Miss Elizabeth—”
“Precisely!” Darcy exploded, starting to pace again. “It makes no sense.”
Richard was silent as Darcy wore a path in the carpet. “I am concerned that perhaps Wickham has some hold over her family,” Darcy said, not mentioning how a barmaid had suggested the idea. “Elizabeth denied it, but possibly there is something else that…”
“Hmm.” Richard settled back in his chair. “If you told her of Wickham’s treachery, would it alter her opinion?”
“I hope so.” Darcy sighed and ran both hands through his hair. “But I do not know how I could convey the information. If only I could talk with her privately!”
Richard leaned forward in his chair. “You must speak with her—and soon—before she is caught up in his schemes.”
“That had occurred to me,” Darcy ground out through gritted teeth. “And there is an additional danger…” Hastily he informed his cousin of Denny’s demise.
“Blast!” Richard slammed his fist onto the arm of the chair.
“It could be unrelated to Wickham’s treachery,” Darcy said.
“That is not likely.”
“No.”
Richard sighed. “The danger to Miss Bennet is greater than I originally realized.”
