Chapter 23
Wickham sneered, even though he could not help but realise he was caught. Indeed, Darcy knew not how he thought to get himself out of this mess. He would answer to his superiors, and then likely be court-martialled. He would have nothing but a sullied name, and might even serve time in military prison. “Speak, Wickham. Let us have done with it,” Darcy said, barely able to keep his tone even.
“I do not answer to you,” Wickham spat. “But I will tell Mr Bennet. I see no reason to keep you all in the dark. It was a good plan, if not for Darcy’s meddling.”
“Why did you do it?” Mr Bennet asked. This time, Darcy could tell Elizabeth’s father was losing patience. He had handled the trap with such grace and smoothness until the point Wickham had been caught. Now his face was beet red, making him look like a piece of iron laid to the smelting fires, glowing hot under the pressure of the intense heat.
Mr Wickham raised his chin. “I will tell you. But then you must promise to let me go,” he said. “I have done nothing worth incarceration, as you well know.”
The constable stepped forward and placed a warning hand on Wickham’s shoulder. “That remains to be seen.”
Wickham’s features lost a bit of their haughtiness. The constable made him sit back down in the plush chair he had occupied during his conversation with Mr Bennet. “Very well. The idea for the compromise was borne out of my enmity for Darcy and my appreciation for Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Elizabeth’s shock and fury were too great to keep her silence. “Mr Wickham, what on earth can you mean by that? You cannot have any genuine appreciation for me if you have tried to commit such harm against me.”
“Miss Elizabeth, I had a plan,” Mr Wickham said earnestly, giving her his most soulful look. “You and I had such great enjoyment in each other’s society, and yet neither of us had enough money to wed. Everything would have worked out well, if not for Darcy’s interference.”
“It would not have worked out well for me,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Even disgrace would have been better than marriage to a man capable of such a plot.”
In that moment, Darcy was so proud of her, he felt a smile break out on his face despite all the grimness of the scene. Upon hearing her rebuke, Wickham had looked half shocked, half crestfallen. It was like the man to think that he might still charm her, even after everything he had done. Now Wickham knew better, and he did not appear to enjoy the knowledge.
“And why involve Mr Darcy?” Mr Bennet asked.
“Because I have long thought Darcy ought to be taken down a peg, if you must know. But since there was no bodily harm done to either of them, there is no way you can hold me.”
No one argued with him, and he went on. “I was sure that Darcy would not stoop to marry Miss Elizabeth.” He smirked in Elizabeth’s direction. “As charming and pretty as she is, she has no money or standing to speak of. I thought it sure he would do whatever it took to extricate himself from the scandal and return to Pemberley.”
“Mr Darcy would never do such a thing as leave a young woman to fend for herself,” Elizabeth snapped. She placed a hand on Darcy’s arm, and while the gesture warmed every fibre of his being, he was surprised by it, especially that she would do so in front of the constable. Of course, the three of them had just spent the better part of a half-hour crammed in a closet with each other.
“You always think yourself so high and mighty. I wanted to teach you a lesson, Darcy,” Wickham sneered. “I wanted to see if you would live up to the supposed honour you always lectured others about, myself included. You cannot know how sick to death I was of listening to your speeches when we were young men.”
Elizabeth gave a short laugh. “You are angry that Mr Darcy has proven to be everything he says he is?” She let go of his arm and folded her arms over her chest. She glanced up at him, and his heart warmed at the respect in her eyes. “Indeed, Mr Darcy never talks about himself. He simply lives what he believes.”
Darcy’s mouth went dry just looking at her. At that moment, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, or would ever see again — her character every bit as lovely as her face.
“It should have worked. But you had to go and ruin everything, just as you always did when we were boys. It would have been great fun to show everyone that you have feet of clay, just as the rest of us do.” Mr Wickham leaned back in the chair, seeming wholly unbothered by the mess he had caused. “It was quite simple, really. I planned the scandal that was to have shown you as the louse I know you to be. When Miss Elizabeth was ruined, and without recourse, I was to have come to Mr Bennet and offered to speak for Miss Elizabeth — to save her, and to keep the rest of the girls from sharing in her disgrace.” Wickham paused, looking Elizabeth up and down. “For a price, of course.”
Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand and tucked it safely into the crook of his arm. He felt her tense, no doubt caused by the anger building inside her, as he was sure it was, for it was growing inside of him with every passing second that they allowed Wickham to speak.
“And what made you believe I would stoop to being parted with my daughter for the likes of you?” Mr Bennet asked.
Wickham smiled an ugly smile. “Oh, you would have, Mr Bennet, I have no doubt of that.”
“Explain yourself, sir,” Mr Bennet growled.
“Go on, then,” Constable Rathers added. “And choose your words wisely, Mr Wickham. You are in the presence of a lady.”
“But that is just the thing, is it not? She is not a lady. She has no title, no money, no connections.” Mr Wickham argued. He sneered at Darcy. “Your mother would be horrified that you are about to marry a young woman of such low connections. And your father! Hah! I daresay he has been rolling over in his grave.”
Darcy growled in fury. “I warn you, Wickham. Keep a civil tongue in your head, or you will regret this night.”
“There is nothing you can do to me, Darcy.” Mr Wickham spat. “You are not the lord of this county, as you pretend to be in Derbyshire. As for marrying Miss Elizabeth, Mr Bennet himself said he would have given anything to save her, even mortgaging Longbourn itself. Any loving father would when faced with the prospect of having — not only one unmarriageable daughter — but five, for the scandal would have ruined all of their chances. When I presented that very harsh reality to Mr Bennet, he would have begged me to marry Miss Elizabeth. And I would have agreed — for a price, as I said before.”
“Thank Heaven that it did not come to pass,” Mr Bennet said, grimly shaking his head. “I can only hope that I would not have agreed to such a scheme. I have never known a man whom I must hold in such contempt. Even having Mr Collins as a son-in-law would have been a blessing in comparison.”
“I do not care if you dislike me, sir. The trouble is, you are beginning to think like Darcy — that your honour has no bounds. Well, I tell you, honour is not absolute. You would have given in, and I would have married Miss Elizabeth. What other choice would she have had?”
Elizabeth let out a sigh, and Darcy realised he might need to prepare for the very real possibility that she would faint. “Wickham, you’ve been warned once. Do not cross the line again,” he growled.
Wickham only shot him an amused half-smile, the one that had infuriated him as a boy, for it meant that Wickham was about to get into mischief, and he did not care who he hurt in the process. “But I am only just beginning. You see, I know that Mr Bennet is not a man of great means. However, in order to save his precious daughter’s ruined reputation, he would have done whatever it took to come up with a suitable dowry to bribe me. And we would have lived very comfortably, I assure you, Miss Elizabeth.” He shot a mockingly longing look in Elizabeth’s direction, settling back into his chair to await the horror of those who had heard the tale.
“You are very much mistaken if you think I would have allowed my daughter to marry you, Mr Wickham. I am a simple country gentleman, but I still have my integrity, unlike you.”
Wickham sat up of a sudden, causing Darcy to tense in preparation for a fight, should one present itself. “You would have allowed her name to be dragged through the mire? Perhaps sentencing her to a life of spinsterhood and drudgery? What could she have done? Gone to London to find work? You would have had to send her away, to at least pick up the pieces of her sister’s shattered reputations, and thus slave away to find even the lowest of the low who would take them to wife.” Wickham smiled again, that evil smile that turned Darcy’s blood to a vengeful fire. “There is only one profession I know of that would have been available to Miss Elizabeth. I am sure I would have been happy to give her some business.” Wickham leered at her, and she gasped in shock.
Darcy saw red the instant the words were out of Wickham’s mouth, and if it had not been for Elizabeth’s hand on his arm, he would have flown into a rage and killed the man with his bare hands right then and there. “Take that back, or I shall kill you where you stand, Wickham,” Darcy said, his voice low and menacing. Wickham had raised himself out of the chair in alarm, and Darcy could see the fear in his bloodshot eyes.
“Now, now, there is no need to turn to violence. I think we have all heard enough, have we not, Mr Bennet?” Constable Rathers asked. Darcy backed down, but only slightly. He was sure the last thing the constable wanted was to be called out to attend the aftermath of a duel the following morning. No policemen wished to clean up a corpse. Normally, Darcy would not have considered flouting the law, but after what he had just heard, the temptation was almost irresistible.
“Yes, we certainly have heard enough,” Mr Bennet agreed with Constable Rathers. “Take him away.”
Wickham looked as if he might fight the irons that Constable Rathers introduced, but Darcy took a menacing step forward. Wickham might have been able to fight off the older constable, but he would not have been able to fight three men to one, even if Mr Bennet was in his fifties. “Very well. I shall ride out this little scenario you have planned, Darcy. I shall be exonerated in the morning by my superiors at the fort.”
Constable Rathers clapped the irons on his wrists and was starting to move toward the door when Miss Elizabeth suddenly stepped forward. “Wait!” she said pleadingly. Darcy frowned. Was she upset that Mr Wickham was being led away to the local jail?
Wickham leered at her again, looking her up and down. “I do apologise that things did not work out between us, Miss Elizabeth.”
“I assure you, Mr Wickham, you are utterly mistaken if you think I have any regrets that you are being taken away to jail where you belong. You are also mistaken in believing that I would ever be so lost to morality as to stoop to the sort of profession you were so depraved as to elude to before a lady.” As quick as a flash, she brought her hand up and slapped him across the face, startling all of them. “And you are mistaken that I would ever do anything at all with you.”
Mr Wickham blinked slowly, then looked up at Darcy. He had to keep himself from breaking out in a grin at the blow that Elizabeth had dealt, both physically and emotionally. Indeed, the physical effect was already showing in the angry red welt that Elizabeth’s delicate hand had raised across Mr Wickham’s right cheek.
“Get him out of my sight,” Mr Bennet said, waving his hand in a disgusted, dismissive gesture. Mr Wickham said not another word as Constable Rathers gruffly pushed him out of the study doors and down the darkened hallway toward the back entrance.
All was silent for several seconds. Elizabeth was nursing her hand, which must have been tingling with the force with which she had slapped Mr Wickham’s face. She gave a sheepish grin in her father’s direction, massaging her palm. “I am sorry, Papa. That was hardly ladylike —”
Her father held up a hand to stay her words. “There is no need. On the contrary, my dear, I believe I am rather proud of you.” His eyes twinkled as he looked at Mr Darcy. “I say, good show.”
Darcy could not help but smile then, too. “Are you well?” he asked. At the last moment, Darcy stopped himself from reaching out. Did he still have the right to take her hand? “I am sorry you had to hear that.”
“It was what we set out to do, was it not?” Elizabeth asked.
“Indeed, you are quite right,” Mr Bennet said. “You are free, the both of you. You have proven your innocence in the compromise. With Mr Rathers and myself as witnesses to Mr Wickham’s guilt, you can now dissolve the engagement without fear of any backlash whatsoever.” Mr Bennet eyed them both curiously for a moment. The silence lengthened. “Unless you do not wish it?”
Darcy said not a word, wondering what Elizabeth’s answer would be. He held his breath, waiting for what seemed like an eternity for her to speak. Elizabeth looked at him, her brown eyes filled with emotion. “I — ” she halted, then went on. “I suppose you are right, Papa.” She let out a soft sigh. “It is such a relief to have that over.”
His heart clenched in his chest. For a moment, Darcy couldn’t breathe. How could he go on without her, now that he knew he loved her? “Indeed,” he said, clearing his throat and trying to keep the emotion at bay. He did not want to lose her. But how could he say so when she had worked so diligently to clear her name so she would not have to go through the marriage? He hung his head. “Congratulations, Miss Elizabeth. You have done it.”
Elizabeth’s eyes flickered with an emotion he could not identify. He would have said she looked hurt, but that was absurd. It was his heart that had just been crushed. “We have done it,” she corrected.
It gave Darcy little comfort to hear that. Fool that he was, he had brought this pain upon himself. He did not want to dissolve the engagement. But if Elizabeth’s feelings for him had not changed, there was nothing else to be done.
Mr Bennet reached out a hand. Darcy took it. “I want to thank you for acting so gallantly these many weeks. My Lizzy would have been lost if not for your noble handling of the whole situation. I cannot thank you enough for everything you have done for her, and in protecting our family,” he said.
Darcy shook heartily with him, all the while feeling as if his heart were shattering into a thousand pieces. With an effort, he schooled his face to neutrality. It would not do to create further awkwardness for Elizabeth. She had already suffered enough, all because of his old enemy. A less noble woman might have despised him for it.
But if Elizabeth did not despise him, neither did she love him. It was all too clear that she was relieved she would no longer have to be tied to him forever.
With an effort, he forced himself to speak. “I did only what was expected of me, I assure you, Mr Bennet,” he managed to choke out.
“No, indeed. You did far and above what anyone else would have done, Mr Darcy. It is true what Mr Wickham said about me: I am a simple country gentleman. But if there is anything I can do to repay your kindness, please let me know how I can do it.”
Darcy wanted nothing more than to flee the room. Flee Longbourn. But how could he? This might be the last time he ever saw Elizabeth. And he knew he would never look upon another woman with the same force of emotion or devotion he felt for her.
Elizabeth turned to him, looking hesitant. “Thank you, Mr Darcy, for everything. My father is right. We can never repay your kindness. But if we can try in some way —”
“There is no need,” he said more harshly than he intended. “I will leave you now to share the news with your family.”
Elizabeth looked stricken, following him to the door. “You won’t stay, Mr Darcy? At least share a glass of port with my father, and come to say hello to my sisters — ”
“No, thank you,” he replied, having difficulty now in keeping his emotions in check. It was unmanly of him, he knew, but he could feel a large lump forming in his throat. To be so close to her, and yet feel the gulf widening between them, was agony. “I do not wish to intrude on your family or yourself any more than I already have. Good night, Miss Elizabeth.” He quickly turned and bowed to her father. “Mr Bennet.”
He hurried out of the room and went out the back way, as the constable had done a few minutes before. The stable was only a few paces away. Thankfully, he had instructed the stable boy to leave his horse saddled. Darcy mounted up and rode away into the darkness, his heart as black and hopeless as the dreary night.