16. Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
February 1812 Darcy House Darcy
T he receipt of Elizabeth's letter was the highlight of the evening. Darcy had waited anxiously for word from her for two days and wondered what could have delayed her reply. At long last, he held her letter in his hand. Without delay, he went to his study and broke the seal, unfolding the paper to see what she had written.
The beginning contained serious matters, and he frowned as he contemplated her conundrum. Richard had said similar things after Georgiana's fiasco last summer. "You have let that blackguard run amok long enough," his cousin had growled. "How long before your inaction allows Wickham to ruin another?" And here in his hand were similar concerns, penned by the woman he loved.
Wickham has had more than enough time to remedy his behavior, he thought. Have I promoted his behavior unintentionally by doing nothing to curb his excesses? Darcy had realized long ago that his father's largesse had likely contributed to Wickham's sense of entitlement. He had been raised as a second son and believed all the rights and privileges of that position were his. And neither the old Mr. Darcy nor his son had ever done anything to show the man otherwise.
A firm resolve came over him. He penned a quick note to his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, asking him to call upon Darcy House whenever he could, and sent it with a footman. Within a half hour, his cousin appeared.
"I thought it would be faster to come than to send a note suggesting another time," he said cheerfully. "What did you wish to discuss?"
"Wickham," Darcy said shortly, watching as Richard's cheerful countenance turned to a scowl.
"Has he come begging again?" he spat angrily. "I warn you, if I ever see him again, I shall—"
"He is in Hertfordshire," Darcy cut in. "We encountered each other last autumn whilst I stayed with Bingley. The miscreant has joined the local militia, if you can believe it." Here, he paused, fixing a serious stare on his cousin's face. "I believe he may be a threat to the local populace," Darcy continued. "There are many innocent women there, and you and I both know he has likely run up debts with every merchant in town."
Richard leaned forward, a sly smile spreading across his face. "What has this to do with me?" he asked, though Darcy felt certain his cousin knew exactly what Darcy wanted.
Drawing in a breath, he came around the side of his desk. "I have come to the conclusion that it is time to stop protecting him," he murmured. "My father would be ashamed of the man his godson has become, and I dishonor his memory by continuing to humor his excesses."
Richard clapped his hands and stood up. "Well done, man! Tell me, what has prompted this change of heart?" His expression grew concerned. "Is Georgie well?" he asked.
"My sister has nothing to do with it," Darcy replied. He could feel his cheeks growing red. The last thing he needed was Richard prying into his affairs.
His cousin's expression now looked like the cat got the cream. "Oh, ho!" he cried. "It is a girl, is it not? What else would move a man to such a gesture? Even your sister's near calamity could not sway you to my way of thinking!"
Darcy shook his head, thinking it was better not to answer, but Richard would have none of it.
"Do not attempt to deny it," he chortled. "Does Mama know yet? Or better yet, Lady Catherine! Have you declined to share this news with our most interested relation?"
"You are not to say a word," Darcy growled. "Any misstep could cost me the lady's heart."
Richard guffawed and went to the table where the decanter stood. "What lady would refuse you? " he asked, pouring himself some of the amber liquid.
"She would." Darcy sounded so certain that it caused his cousin to look up in shock. "She refused her father's heir," he continued, ignoring the incredulous expression. He went to the table and took the decanter from the dumbfounded Richard and set it back down.
His cousin whistled. "You have found a rare treasure," he said appreciatively. "May we all be so blessed with a woman who sees beyond fortune." He downed the glass in one gulp and set it with a loud thunk on the tray. "Now, what will you have me do? You hold enough markers to see him in debtor's prison."
"I leave it up to you," Darcy said. "I do not know if I could resist aiding him if I knew his fate."
Richard grinned malevolently and nodded. "Do you have the markers here?" he asked. "Or must you send to Pemberley?"
"As fortune would have it, they are here." Darcy went to his wall safe and twirled the dial to open it. He extracted a stack of markers, tied together with twine, and passed them to his cousin. Richard pocketed them immediately, and Darcy wondered if the colonel thought he would change his mind.
"Very good, then." Richard moved towards the door. "I shall see to it directly. And I expect to be introduced to the paragon who has captured your heart at the earliest possible opportunity." And then he was gone.
Darcy sank into the nearby armchair and put his head in his hands. The guilt invoked by Elizabeth's letter had been a powerful motivator. It forced him to look at his decisions—where they concerned Mr. Wickham. Always, he had acted in a way which offered the least resistance or trouble to himself. It was not the best way to manage affairs. He could not call himself worthy of a good woman if he could not make difficult decisions.
Removing Wickham from the world would prevent further heartache. He left a string of ruined women, broken hearts, and mounting debts in his path. Whilst Wickham's decisions were his own, Darcy's lack of action condemned him. Well, it would not be that way any longer. He would remedy the situation, protecting Elizabeth's family, the citizens of Meryton, and the merchants in the area all at once. He could do no less and still call himself a gentleman.