Chapter X #2
“Exactly what Miss Elizabeth suggested we would find,” said the colonel with a sigh.
“I shall not reveal the number—I still have men out speaking to the merchants—but Wickham has amassed sufficient debt to render any hope of paying it vain. Last night, several of the men confronted him about gaming debts. Wickham attempted to talk his way out of it, but men holding debt notes are far less susceptible to charm than infatuated young ladies.”
“Have you discovered any other activities?” asked Elizabeth.
The colonel understood at once what she was asking.
“Some, but not as much as I feared. It seems his pursuit of Miss King has the unexpected benefit of preventing the worst of his seductions. A few ladies of the town have come forward, but though he made himself agreeable, nothing irreparable has happened.”
“That is a relief,” said Mr. Bennet. “There are men in town who would not wait to exact vengeance should they discover Wickham had dishonored their daughters.”
“Or their wives,” said the colonel, disgust curling his lip. “I even found evidence my wife did not escape his attentions. Harriet is a little flighty, but she’s intelligent enough to have rebuffed him.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyes widened. “I am astonished you are speaking of it so rationally.”
The colonel shrugged. “It was only some minor flirtation that I learned of this morning. I trust my wife, Mr. Bennet—Harriet may appear silly, but she is devoted to me.”
Though he nodded, Mr. Bennet declined to pursue the subject any further. It was for the best—Elizabeth had no great opinion of Harriet Forster, but she also knew no harm of the woman. Whatever had happened between her and Mr. Wickham, it was best to allow the colonel to handle it.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said the colonel, turning to her, “I understand why you acted as you did—Wickham was held in high regard in the town and in the regiment, which must be a testament to his ability to induce others to believe in him. Yet I wish you had come to me and let me handle it.”
“In retrospect,” replied Elizabeth, feeling a little abashed, “that would have been the better course.”
“Yes, it would have,” agreed the colonel. “I could have taken action if you had approached me. It is my duty to ensure the men under my command honor the uniform they wear, but in this, I have not been diligent enough. It has taught me a lesson, I assure you, and one I will not forget.”
“Then you have Wickham in custody?” asked Mr. Bennet.
The colonel’s grimace spoke volumes. “No, I do not. I had several men watching him, but he evaded them this morning. He did not steal a horse, so he could not have gotten far unless he bribed some tenant to hide him in a wagon. I have men scouring Meryton and the surrounding countryside, but we have not yet found him.”
Mr. Bennet considered this. “He may still be skulking around the town trying to discover a way to escape.”
“That is possible,” agreed the colonel. “Though I do not suppose there is any danger to the town—” the colonel turned to look at Elizabeth. “—except for you, Miss Elizabeth. Wickham is still quite angry with you. Still, it may be best to warn the local gentlemen.”
“That would be prudent,” agreed Mr. Bennet. “If he is hiding on one of the estates, the landowners can instruct their tenants to watch for him.”
“The more eyes we have, the better,” said the colonel. “I shall see to it when we conclude our business.”
“Then I will leave it in your capable hands,” said Mr. Bennet.
“We will find Wickham,” replied the colonel with a curt nod. “If he slips away, he will have the army looking for him. Desertion in a time of war is a serious offense—Wickham would be better to accept debtors’ prison than risk hanging.”
“I cannot disagree, Colonel,” said Mr. Bennet. “Now, I have one more matter to discuss.”
“Please continue,” said Colonel Forster, appearing curious.
“Last night at Philips’s party, Wickham made some mention of an invitation for my daughter to join your wife in Brighton for the summer.”
“Yes, I had heard of it,” confirmed the colonel, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Harriet has spoken of her desire to keep her friend’s company.”
“Though I am grateful for your wife’s thoughtful attention to my daughter, I think it is best that Lydia does not go to Brighton this summer. Please speak to your wife and convince her to reconsider, for I cannot imagine the tumult my daughter will cause in my house if I must refuse consent.”
By now, the wide, toothy grins of the two men almost appeared evil. The colonel offered a decisive nod.
“I agree, Mr. Bennet. While I would do almost anything to bring Harriet pleasure, I will own that I was not anticipating the summer with Miss Lydia in my home. Harriet is a good woman, but their giggling when they get together is enough to drive a man to strong drink.”
Mr. Bennet guffawed and extended his hand. “Then we agree. You will not need to endure a giggling young lady, and I will only need to endure Lydia’s cries about the lack of an invitation. That is by far the better prospect.”
With that, the Bennets left the colonel’s office and made their way back out onto the street.
The bustle they had earlier observed had not lessened, though there were fewer clusters of townsfolk in their immediate view.
After conferring for a few moments, they made their way to their relations’ house, finding Mr. and Mrs. Philips within.
“I was waiting for you to appear, Brother.” He smiled at the sisters and added: “It is no surprise Lizzy insisted on being a part of the day’s events.”
“My actions put them in motion,” replied Elizabeth. “Of course, I wished to be present to learn what I have wrought.”
Mr. Philips chuckled. “Yes, Lizzy, you have wrought something, indeed. I still wish you had come to me last night—and the colonel expressed the same sentiments—but I understand your independent nature.”
“We have just come from the colonel’s office,” said Mr. Bennet. “He expressed himself with eloquence.”
“That does not surprise me.”
“It is all so shocking!” exclaimed Mrs. Philips. “Who could have predicted that such a handsome, charming man is a very fiend sent to ruin us all?”
“It seems this Mr. Wickham is adept at charming all and sundry,” replied Mr. Bennet. “But you have not heard everything.”
Mr. Bennet turned to Mrs. Philips, a stern expression that did not escape her notice. “What I am about to tell you must remain in the strictest confidence, for it could damage my family if anyone learned of it.”
“Letitia will remain silent,” said Mr. Philips, eyeing his wife.
“Of course, I will!” exclaimed Mrs. Philips, affronted. “I would never spread any tales that would harm my dear nieces!”
Mr. Bennet nodded, though Elizabeth could easily see his skepticism. Mrs. Philips was a more determined gossip than even Mrs. Bennet, and often spread her stories with no conception of the consequences. Speaking of the costs before relating the matter to her would prevent any further dissemination.
“In the dead of the night, Lydia attempted to leave the house to warn Wickham of the danger.”
Mrs. Philips gasped, but Mr. Philips only shook his head. “Lydia is a silly girl. Perhaps you might think twice about the wisdom of allowing her to attend society, Bennet. The girl does not possess the maturity for it.”
“I have considered it,” said Mr. Bennet. “For the nonce, our discussion has been about the necessity of reforming her character.”
“Papa has considered the possibility of hiring a companion,” said Jane.
Mr. Philips considered this and nodded. “You may have a better chance of success with a stern woman hired for the purpose.”
“That is exactly what I thought,” replied Mr. Bennet.
“Then Lydia did not have a tryst with him?”
Mr. Bennet shook his head. “No, I do not think so. But she did not consider the consequences of her rash decision to walk to Meryton after midnight and meet with a man of suspect morality.”
“Kitty discovered her and prevented her from leaving,” said Elizabeth.
That provoked a start of surprise. “Kitty? I might have suspected her of rushing into danger beside Lydia.”
“Kitty has surprised us all,” said Mr. Bennet. “Lizzy says that Kitty suspected Mr. Wickham of devilry and was watching her sister to ensure she did not do something she should not.”
“Then good for Kitty,” said Mr. Philips. “It will be easier to reform Lydia if she does not have Kitty supporting her.”
“I had considered that myself,” confessed Mr. Bennet.
“Have they located Mr. Wickham yet? It was my understanding that he had disappeared.”
“Not yet,” replied Mr. Bennet, “though I suspect it will not be long. No horses are missing, so he is on foot. He cannot go far.”
“That is well. The merchants are already baying for his blood.”
Mr. Bennet shook his head with exasperation. “The situation is as much their doing as Wickham’s. What man in his right mind allows a man unknown to them to amass debts as this Mr. Wickham has? The colonel would not tell us how much, but I get the sense it may prove ruinous.”
“It is not insubstantial,” agreed Mr. Philips. “This will be a lesson for them all.”
“And one that is overdue,” said Mr. Bennet.
With that, they descended into conversation a little more desultory.
Mrs. Philips engaged Elizabeth and Jane’s attention, speaking at length about Mr. Wickham, the situation, and her sense of outrage that she had hosted such a man in her sitting-room.
Mr. Bennet and Mr. Philips spoke together in low tones, and though Elizabeth could not hear them, she suspected they were speaking of the situation and what must be done to move past the damage of Mr. Wickham's actions.
In time, they rose to depart, promising to meet at Longbourn on Sunday for a family meal—the Philipses attended them at least once a month.
Then they stepped out of the house to make their way back to the carriage.
About them, Elizabeth could see signs of the ongoing search for Mr. Wickham, suggesting they had not yet found the man.
Most of the residents had dispersed, leaving the usual clusters on the streets on any day.
“You don’t suppose Mr. Wickham will come to Longbourn, do you?” asked Jane as they walked.
“Not unless he considers it a convenient place to hide,” replied Mr. Bennet. “Right now, all his thoughts are bent on his escape, for he must know what awaits him.”
Jane nodded. “That is well. He is angry with Lizzy—I do not wish her to be hurt by such a man.”
“Yes, well, until the colonel’s men capture him, I suspect Lizzy should curtail her walks.”
“It is already late, Papa,” replied Elizabeth. “I shall not walk today, and will remain close to the house until the danger passes.”
“Good girl.”
Moments later, the discussion became irrelevant.
As they walked toward the carriage, Elizabeth happened to glance down an alley.
Though it took her a moment to realize what she was seeing, soon the sight of a man crouching down, peering out into the street caught her attention.
Her eyes met his, and she knew who it was.
Before she could cry a warning, he snarled and moved from his place of dubious concealment, rushing toward Elizabeth on the street. Had he remained silent, he might have achieved his objective, but his enraged cry tore through the streets, alerting Mr. Bennet to his presence.
“Foul doxy!” snarled Mr. Wickham as he emerged from the alley, hands raised like a raptor’s claws. “I will show you what happens to those who cross me!”
Elizabeth nimbly stepped to the side, avoiding his grasping fingers except for a slight brush on the side of her dress.
Then Mr. Bennet, who had whirled at the sound of his voice, rushed forward.
Though Mr. Bennet was older and more accustomed to turning the pages of his beloved books than fisticuffs, he was also protecting his daughters.
Mr. Wickham struggled and swore, but Mr. Bennet kept him away until several soldiers rushed toward them, grasping Mr. Wickham’s arms and twisting them behind his back.
Mr. Wickham cried out in pain and struggled to release himself, but the men tightened their grip, provoking a gasp. Several officers who had been part of the search moved from the direction of Longbourn, their gazes stony.
Then, as a final bit of ridiculous timing, a carriage slowed to an abrupt halt, and two gentlemen stepped out, motions clipped and angry. When Elizabeth saw their faces, she gaped with astonishment. It was Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley.