Chapter 6
“What is it, Lizzy? Come on in, my dear. I hope you are not unwell. You look pale and so serious that you are frightening me.”
“I am well, Papa. You have no reason for concern. It is just that…I wish to tell you something, but I am not sure whether I should.”
“Speak up, child! What is this missish reluctance? You do worry me!”
“I am reluctant because it is a big secret and it is not mine. I am not sure whether it should be kept or revealed.”
“Then by all means do not tell me! I am not at all eager to hear others’ secrets. I have had enough of confidences shared of late.”
“Papa, please be serious. It is a matter that might affect many lives. You have heard about the alleged meeting between Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham? Shortly before he died?”
“Is there anyone around who does not know about it now? I am not certain whether it is true, but it certainly has become universal knowledge.”
“It is true, Papa.”
“And how do you know that with such conviction? I can see on your face that you have been affected and suffer for the young officer, but really, my dear, we should not get involved further in this drama. I trust you are sensible enough and understand that I have enough trouble with your mother and younger sisters.”
“Papa, I would suffer for the death of any young human, and as much as I would wish the opposite, I am already involved. I know with certainty, because I was there.”
Mr Bennet’s consternation was complete; he scrutinised his daughter, looking for a sign that she might be teasing him, but she sat heavily on her usual chair in front of his desk and clasped her hands in her lap.
“There? Where?”
“At Oakham Mount. I arrived before anyone else, and I was resting behind the old oak tree enjoying the calm and silence. Do you remember the old oak? It is large enough that they did not see me, but I heard everything.”
Mr Bennet shot to his feet, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing without a sound coming out for several moments.
“Oh dear...and…Lizzy…but…and nobody else knows?”
“Nobody, Papa. They did not notice me before they departed, and coming back I did not meet nor speak to anyone. I did not even tell Jane because of some of the things that were said. Some things must remain unrevealed, to protect innocent people. Mr Wickham was not as good a man as we were led to believe.”
Mr Bennet paced around the library, agitated, glancing at Elizabeth.
“That I guessed by myself. The man spoke too much and too unguardedly to be trusted. So, will you tell me what you heard? And what shall we do with this piece of knowledge?”
“I shall tell you, Papa. I came to you for you must advise me what to do next.”
Elizabeth related to her father the entire incident in detail, from her solitary arrival until she departed the site, bewildered.
She avoided Georgiana’s name, only mentioning Wickham’s attempt to seduce a young lady of Darcy’s acquaintance.
Mr Bennet did not enquire further in that matter, but he insisted upon knowing about the dealings and financial compensation between the two men.
“So, this is why Wickham had Darcy’s letter,” he concluded when Elizabeth had finished. “And Darcy hurt himself by hitting the tree, you said? All the rumours are true actually, but obviously seen in a very different light.”
“Yes, Papa.”
“And Wickham left unharmed from the meeting?”
“Very much so. As soon as Mr Darcy left too, I looked for both of them. Mr Wickham was already down in the valley, near Meryton. I cannot imagine what might have happened.”
“What an extraordinary turn of events. So, what do you want to do next, Lizzy?”
“I do not know, Papa. I really do not know… Papa, do you believe it is possible that Mr Darcy met and harmed Mr Wickham later on?”
“Do you think so, Lizzy?” he asked her with an enquiring gaze.
“No…Mr Darcy was angry during the fight, and his words did sound threatening, but I did not feel he meant it. Somehow, I was more frightened by Mr Wickham’s insinuations, although he was calmer.
I cannot explain it, but, as much as I dislike Mr Darcy and I loathe his arrogance, I have come to trust him more than Mr Wickham. ”
“I understand you, Lizzy. I have no direct opinion on Darcy, as I have not even spoken to him in person, but I doubt he killed Wickham. If he wished the man dead, he would have done it there, in the heat of the fight. I do not see him chasing Wickham through the woods and starting another fight, close to the public road, at the edge of Meryton. That is ridiculous.”
“I agree, Papa.”
“But now that you mention it, it is true that all the evidence appears to be against Darcy. His injured hand, the bruise on his forehead, the letter, the meeting… He was, apparently, the last person who saw Wickham alive.”
“No, Papa, whoever was guilty of Mr Wickham’s death saw him last. Do you think that Mr Darcy could be charged for this crime?”
“I doubt it. A gentleman of Darcy’s consequence in life is rarely charged and especially not without proof and sound evidence.
I understand the magistrate will arrive soon.
He will decide upon the direction of the investigation and if an inquest is necessary.
I still do not know what the best course of action is and whether your confession might influence the conclusion of this matter. ”
“Papa, I am thinking that, if the magistrate or Colonel Forster learnt about the meeting from me, they would realise that Mr Wickham had arrived close to the regiment’s quarters safe and sound.
This way they might concentrate on what happened to him after he parted ways with Mr Darcy. The truth lies there!”
“You are very wise, my Lizzy,” Mr Bennet said with an affectionate smile.
“I am proud of your honesty in judging two men wholly unconnected to you, despite one of them having always been rude to you and the other showing partiality. You are concerned by the truth, regardless of whether it might favour a man who does not deserve your trouble.”
“I do not deserve praise for doing what is right. I am not doing it for Mr Darcy but for the truth itself. And I am not wise. If I were, I would not have so readily believed a man I had barely met. I pray for his soul and lament the waste of his life, but I am ashamed of myself for trusting him.”
“My dear child, you may find comfort in knowing that you were not the only fool. According to the story you overheard, others, more acquainted with him, have been deceived. Everyone trusted the man, God have mercy of his soul. It is a great pity, though.”
“So…Papa, what should we do?” Elizabeth repeated the tormenting question.
“Let me think a little more, Lizzy. There is no need to rush for now. Let us see what happens next. Perhaps your confession will not even be needed. If it is, I shall stay by your side.”
***
Darcy looked at the two men standing in the middle of Netherfield’s library. He had been busy reading the correspondence he had just received from his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam and from Georgiana when the visitors were announced.
They had requested to meet with him, and Bingley, as the host, joined them. However, Darcy assumed that Bingley’s sisters and Hurst were lurking behind the door.
“Mr Darcy, Mr Bingley, allow me to introduce Sir Gifford Linfield,” Colonel Forster began. “Sir Gifford is the magistrate conducting the investigation into Mr Wickham’s tragic death. I hope he will be able to help us solve this tragic puzzle. We thank you for receiving us so quickly.”
“I am glad you are here, gentlemen,” Bingley replied. “We were expecting you. It is our desire to see the truth unveiled, too.”
“I assume it is I you wish to speak to,” Darcy spoke matter-of-factly.
“Indeed, I do, Mr Darcy,” Sir Gifford acquiesced. “I was informed that you may provide some insight into this matter.”
“If I may, I shall. Please do not hesitate to ask anything you want. I shall answer to the best of my ability.”
“Thank you, Mr Darcy. I must say that I have the honour of claiming an acquaintance with your uncle, the judge. I am sorry the two of us have to meet under such unfavourable circumstances.”
“It is your duty, Sir Gifford, and I am more than willing to help.”
The two guests stayed for almost an hour.
Despite his confessed admiration for Judge Darcy, Sir Gifford skilfully addressed questions that, although polite, were meant to draw out answers and reveal the truth.
Darcy, although not oblivious to the magistrate’s strategy, did not hesitate to oblige.
However, while he spoke and listened to his own words, he realised how unfavourable his own confession sounded.
He had had an argument with Wickham, he had an injury that could be consistent with a fight, there was the letter found on Wickham that he had already admitted was from him — and all those were added to God knows what lies and half-truths Wickham had spread about him.
He knew only too well what Wickham’s favourite subject of conversation was.
“This is a faithful narrative of what happened that morning,” Darcy concluded. “For my previous dealings with Wickham, I am able to provide evidence of all the financial settlements, if necessary. For that encounter in the woods, you may have to take my word, as I have no other proof.”
“Proof? What proof?” Bingley interjected anxiously, looking from one man to another. “There is no need to prove anything, as surely nobody is implying that you had any involvement in Wickham’s death! Such accusations would be absolutely ridiculous! I am certain this cannot be the case.”
“I assure you we are not here to accuse Mr Darcy,” Colonel Forster replied with some uneasiness. “But we had to insist on this conversation since it could provide some information in regard to Mr Wickham’s last day.”
“I perfectly understand,” Darcy responded. “I would question myself too, if I were in your place. Is there anything else I might help you with?”
“No, nothing for now. Your assistance is much appreciated, Mr Darcy,” Sir Gifford concluded. “Do you have any plans to leave Netherfield any time soon?”
Darcy did not miss the hidden request in the man’s question. He knew that nobody could forbid him from leaving, but his word as a gentleman and his honour were at stake.
“It depends on your success in completing this investigation, Sir Gifford,” he answered. “I shall remain here until this matter is concluded.”
“So shall I,” Bingley added.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Colonel Forster replied.
As soon as the visitors were gone, Bingley’s sisters barged in, followed by Hurst, all asking for details. From the hall, several servants glanced inside with apparent curiosity.
Darcy knew only too well that it was not the end of it, not by far.
***
The next morning at breakfast, the conversation kept revolving around the same subject. Caroline and Louisa were equally annoyed by their ruined plans but refused their brother’s suggestion to return to London without him.
“This is so vexing!” Caroline burst out.
“I insist there is no reason for you to stay. You should not have even told anyone that you met that man, Mr Darcy. You have had tens, hundreds of servants at Pemberley and at your townhouse over the years. You cannot feel responsible for all of them and for their families. The son of your father’s steward died, may he rest in peace.
I cannot understand why you would disturb your plans for that! ”
“I fully agree with Caroline,” Louisa added. “Your honour is remarkable, Mr Darcy, but bestowed on unworthy people.”
“Being honourable is not something that depends on others’ worthiness, but on your own nature, Mrs Hurst,” Darcy replied coolly.
“Although I assure you this is not the case here.
“In any crime or wrongdoing, it is the duty of those who are even remotely involved to support the discovery of the truth. But I agree with Bingley — your presence is not needed here. Therefore, you may leave for town as soon as your trunks are ready.”
“I rue the day when Charles chose Netherfield,” Caroline added, ignoring Darcy’s last remark. “We have had nothing but misfortunes since we arrived here!”
“And yet, you insist on remaining,” Bingley said.
The growing argument was interrupted by a servant, announcing to Darcy that he had received a note, and curiosity brought momentary silence.
“It is from Mr Bennet,” he answered the unasked question as soon as he opened it. “He has asked me for a private meeting to discuss a matter of some importance and urgency,” he continued.
“Mr Bennet?” Bingley enquired.
“Well, this is exactly what we need,” Caroline rolled her eyes. “A few weeks ago, Jane stayed here, her sister Eliza came to care for her, then we were imposed upon by her mother and other sisters. Now, the father! Will we be invaded by the entire Bennet family?”
“Mr Bennet has asked me to call upon him, at Longbourn, so you are safe from the danger of an invasion, Miss Bingley,” Darcy answered with barely concealed sarcasm.
“You have never been to Longbourn, have you? I did not know you were even acquainted with Mr Bennet,” Bingley uttered.
“We have not been properly introduced, and I only saw Mr Bennet at the ball,” Darcy responded. “I cannot imagine what matter he might want to discuss with me.”
“You are not forced to go,” Caroline said, inserting herself into the conversation once again.
“Yes, I am aware of that,” he said, annoyed by Caroline’s repeated intervention in a matter already delicate and vexing, wholly unconnected with her, and by her presuming she was in a position to tell him what to do or whom to meet.
“And yet, I will. I doubt Mr Bennet has developed a sudden partiality for me, so he must have a reason to write to me.”
“I agree. Mr Bennet is not a man fond of society and avoids calls, especially those with strangers,” Bingley added. “I could join you, if you want.”
“I would appreciate your company, Bingley. Mr Bennet is expecting me this afternoon. I shall write my acceptance directly.”
While Bingley’s disposition suddenly improved at the prospect of visiting Jane again, Darcy’s apprehension increased.
He was at a loss as to what Elizabeth’s father might wish to discuss with him, and knowing that he would see her mourning for Wickham pained him.
He was already bearing the burden of Georgiana’s unspoken grief, hidden between the lines of her last letter, and he had to admit — at least to himself — that Elizabeth had become as important to him as his sister.