Chapter 19
Darcy rode his horse at a gallop; although the wind blew in his face, he still struggled for air. Amazement, rage, disbelief, and guilt all combined inside him like a blizzard. And fear — not for himself but for the damage this twist of fate might cause other innocent people.
George Wickham was in Meryton. He had been standing in front of Elizabeth’s house.
Here was another incredible coincidence in his story with Elizabeth — this time a dreadful one.
Wickham had joined the militia? He was lazy, indolent, deceitful — how had he found his way to becoming an officer?
Who had brought him into the regiment? Who had paid his commission?
Of all the regiments in the country, how had he chosen the one stationed in Meryton?
And of all the young women in the neighbourhood, why was he found in the company of the younger Bennet girls?
Could it be a coincidence, or was it another scheme carefully planned by that scoundrel?
But did he possess the necessary wit and resources to even conceive such a plan?
If he were clever enough, he would stay as far away from Darcy as possible; he would not sneak his way into his proximity.
Yet, there was no logic to Wickham’s plans or actions; he was as vengeful as he was vicious and idiotic, as Colonel Fitzwilliam perfectly described him.
Darcy had spent many years trying to understand Wickham’s character, to help him study, to support him when he failed at school, where his father had sent them together.
He had never treated Wickham as a servant but as a companion.
And his reward had been that Wickham had taken advantage of their acquaintance to deceive people, borrow money he never returned, and waste it in games of cards or in brothels, all under the protection of the Darcy name.
Darcy felt his father had always been too lenient with Wickham. But was he any better?
Even after their fight in Brighton, when Wickham, drunk and desperate, hunted by his creditors, had stabbed him, Darcy had not taken drastic measures against him.
His cousin, the colonel, the only person to whom he had confessed the truth, had been enraged and determined to shoot Wickham himself.
Instead, Darcy had accepted Wickham’s excuses when he had crawled to his door a day later, begging for forgiveness and promising to never bother Darcy ever again, proclaiming that any scandal, any trial, any punishment would become public gossip among London’s ton and would affect the memory of George Darcy — a man whom both cherished.
He played the card of begging, of feigning remorse, of humility, until Darcy, tired and disgusted, did not involve the law, demanding instead that Wickham never bother him again.
That was another error of judgment, as Wickham never ceased seeking revenge and additional gain, culminating in his secret, sordid alliance with Mrs Younge.
Guilt and self-recrimination had burdened Darcy ever since — and now, the effects of his indulgence had returned to affect his life again.
His day with Elizabeth had been wonderful — in a tormenting, delicious way.
He had spent a few hours alone with her, they had talked about some distressing matters in their relationship, he had grasped the opportunity to invite her to Pemberley, and she had become angry with him for questioning the motives of her eldest sister.
Darcy did not regret speaking his mind in regard to Bingley and Miss Bennet.
At least he had been honest with Elizabeth, as she required.
He still felt he was correct in his assumptions, but he was ready to keep his promise: if he was proved wrong, he would refrain from saying another word about it.
The most important result of that day was that Elizabeth seemed to accept his tentative courtship.
She appeared puzzled and doubtful but not opposed to the indication of his admiration for her.
Furthermore, when she had almost fallen and he had held her in his arms, he had sensed her warm, alluring body quivering.
Her innocent touches — even through the thick fabric of their clothes — were thrilling.
Her scent was intoxicating. Three years ago, he had helped her get out of difficulty in the sea, and she had bandaged his wound, exposing each of them to the other’s indiscreet scrutiny.
But at that time, she had been very young, and not for a moment had he looked at or thought of her in a romantic way.
Since he met her again in Hertfordshire, things had changed, and every touch, every smile, every glance inflamed him and aroused his imagination and his senses.
He had previously held her at Netherfield when she had fainted, and he had carried her to her bed.
But at that time, she had been ill, and his concern for her well-being had overcome any other sensation.
Now, she was quite well, choosing his company willingly, challenging him, arguing with him, smiling at him, teasing him.
She had fallen into his arms by accident, but she had not seemed displeased.
He would have probably spent a little more time with her and her father, and his day would have been a perfect beginning to his courtship. If not for George Wickham.
He dismounted and intended to go straight to his room, but Bingley called out to him.
“Darcy, where have you been? Colonel Forster called on me and asked about you. Did you go for a ride? Why did you not wait for me?”
“I am sorry. I had things on my mind. And now I need to write a couple of letters, if you do not mind. I must send an express to my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“I hope nothing is amiss. You look very concerned.”
“I am well. Do not worry. Excuse me, I shall see you later. And Bingley, I shall send a note to Dr Gardiner at Longbourn. I need a man to deliver it very discreetly. It must be given only to him personally. No one else.”
“Of course… Do you want me to go? I intend to enquire about Miss Bennet in any case.”
“As you wish. I shall write the note in a moment.”
Hearing Miss Bingley’s voice calling them, Darcy turned and strode to his apartment. Once alone, he sat at the desk, thoughtful, pondering his next steps.
First of all, he had to find out whether Wickham’s appearance was a genuine, unfortunate coincidence. What was he doing there? Who had paid his commission? To clarify that, he needed his cousin’s assistance.
After penning his letter to the colonel, Darcy had to decide what measures were required.
He could not allow Wickham anywhere near the young and impressible Bennet sisters; that would be accomplished with the help of Dr Gardiner and Mr Bennet, with any luck.
He scratched a few words on a second piece of paper and was about to take it to Bingley when a thought crossed his mind.
What on earth was in his head? Would he let Bingley deliver the letter?
Did he prefer to stay away himself, allowing Wickham to charm the Bennet family? What sort of a coward was he?
He changed his coat in haste, then hurried out in search of his friend.
“Darcy, did you finish the note for Dr Gardiner?”
“I did, but I changed my mind. I shall join you at Longbourn. I wish to speak to Dr Gardiner and Mr Bennet myself. But first of all, I must send this express to Colonel Fitzwilliam immediately.”
∞∞∞
The return to Longbourn caused Darcy confusing feelings. His arrival clearly surprised Elizabeth too; her cheeks coloured, and there was a trace of a smile in the corner of her lips.
The entire family was gathered in the drawing room, engaged in an animated conversation with a strange man, but the discussion ceased at their entrance.
“Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy, please come in,” Mr Bennet invited them.
“What a pleasure to see you again! I hope you will continue this good habit of visiting us every day,” Mrs Bennet said. “If you had come earlier, you would have met three delightful officers — they just came to introduce themselves to us. Is it not wonderful?”
“Mrs Bennet, please allow the gentlemen to take a seat,” Mr Bennet interjected.
“May I ask how Miss Bennet is today?” Bingley enquired.
“In fact, she is very well,” Dr Gardiner said. “She took a few steps in her room this morning. If she keeps up this progress, she will be returned to full health soon.”
“Oh, that is wonderful indeed,” Bingley said with genuine delight.
“When Jane is fully recovered, we shall have a family dinner, and I hope you will do us the honour of joining us, Mr Bingley. And you, Mr Darcy, of course,” Mrs Bennet said.
“Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy, please allow me to introduce my cousin Mr Collins,” Mr Bennet said.
Pleasantries were exchanged, with Mr Collins expressing his delight in a long speech.
“Dr Gardiner, may I have a word with you — for only a moment?” Darcy asked boldly. “I know you are leaving Hertfordshire tomorrow, but there is a matter I would like to discuss with you.”
“Of course. Shall we go to the library?” the doctor asked him.
Darcy nodded, while Elizabeth and her father looked puzzled.
“Sir, I do not even know how to speak about this,” Darcy began once the library door had closed behind them. “I would have asked Mr Bennet to join us if not for his guest, since it is a matter that mostly concerns his family.”
“You sound quite serious, Mr Darcy. Please tell me what it is, and I shall convey it to my brother at an appropriate time.” Dr Gardiner gestured to the armchairs by the fire, and both gentlemen took seats.
“It is in regard to one of the officers who visited Longbourn earlier today. George Wickham.”
“Mr Wickham? Are you acquainted with him?”
“Unfortunately, I am. There are many details of my past dealings with that man that I shall not bother you with. Suffice it to say he was my father’s godson, and he repaid all the kindness he was shown his entire life with betrayal, deception, and depravity.”
“Mr Darcy, this conversation is more serious than I expected. I must say the officer made a good first impression upon us.”
“I imagine as much. That is his main skill — to pretend to be more than he is and to earn people’s trust for his own gain.
I am sure Mr Bennet will soon realise Wickham’s true character by himself, but…
I wished to speak to you because, in my experience, George Wickham is not to be trusted anywhere near unchaperoned young women. ”
Dr Gardiner frowned, and one eyebrow arched — a little gesture he had in common with Mr Bennet and Elizabeth.
“Mr Darcy, I have no reason to doubt your word, ever. And I see no reason why you would insist on having this conversation with me if not out of genuine concern. I admit you have frightened me. Mr Wickham looked and behaved charmingly, and my young nieces already favour him, as well as my sister.”
“This was precisely my concern, which I hope you will convey to Mr Bennet. I do not expect your family to be in any danger from Wickham, considering his main interest is always monetary. But I would advise Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty to be in his company only under strict supervision. That is all, for now.”
“Thank you for your fair warning, Mr Darcy. Would you like a drink here? Or should we return to the others?”
“I believe we should return. It was rather rude of me to take you away so abruptly, and I shall apologise.”
Then joined the rest of the family, and the first thing Darcy noticed was Elizabeth’s puzzled gaze. He smiled at her, but the next moment he took a step back as he was approached by Mr Collins, who came closer and bowed deeply.
“Mr Darcy, I have discovered an extraordinary coincidence! I have realised that you are the esteemed nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park!”
“I am. Are you acquainted with my aunt?”
“More than acquainted! Lady Catherine has granted me her trust and her protection! For six months now, I have been the rector of Hunsford Parish! I have heard Lady Catherine speak of you so many times, but I never dreamt of meeting you here, in my cousin’s house!”
“Mr Collins, would you not allow Mr Darcy to sit while you express your adulation?” Mr Bennet interjected.
“Oh yes, of course. Would you approve of this sofa? It is very comfortable and close to the fire. I shall sit here, on this chair. Mr Darcy, I am in the happy position of being able to inform you that her ladyship was in excellent health just yesterday!”
“I am glad to hear that, Mr Collins.”
“Mr Darcy, would you like a drink?” Mr Bennet asked.
“Yes, please!” Darcy replied hastily.
During their visit, which was not long, Darcy had two further drinks, which were hardly enough to bear Mr Collins’s relentless praise of him, his aunt, and Rosings Park.
The others hardly said a word, only shared meaningful glances.
Elizabeth, her father, and her uncle looked amused and Mrs Bennet irritated, trying to engage Bingley in a separate conversation.
Finally, the torture ended, and they returned to Netherfield with a deep sense of pity for the poor Bennets who remained with Mr Collins.
So that pompous man was the one Elizabeth had mentioned, the one who might force them into a situation similar to that of the Dashwood sisters.
Of course, that would never happen as long as it depended on Darcy.