14
Two ?tupartská. Elizabeth drew a slip of paper from her reticule to check. They were on foot with Burgess at their side, the carriage parked a little way away.
A lady answered, dark, stylish, with the aquiline features Elizabeth recalled from the night before.
Darcy bowed. ‘Guten morgen.’
She frowned. ‘Parlez-vous francais?’
‘Je cherche Monsieur Wickham.’
A puzzled shake of the head. Elizabeth introduced herself, and the lady bowed.
‘Madame Fawcett.’
An English name! Elizabeth smiled, and tried, ‘Is your husband with you?’
‘Oui, mais …’ She paused a moment. ‘He is, how do you say, indisposed. Resting, after a late night.’
Her English was delivered in a heavy French accent, but easily understood.
‘I should explain the reason for our call,’ Elizabeth continued. ‘I saw you at the opera last night.’
‘Yes, with my husband.’ She frowned. ‘But how …’
‘I recognised Mr Fawcett and followed in order to greet him. When I turned the corner I saw you enter this house, and since it was late, decided to return in the morning.’
‘Mais … You asked for a Mr, what was it, Wicken.’
‘He must have changed his surname,’ Darcy said. ‘It is done sometimes for legal reasons.’
‘Mon Dieu!’ Mrs Fawcett seemed to have accepted this explanation, perhaps not expecting legalities to make sense. ‘So you are friends of George?’
Elizabeth smiled. ‘We were, years ago in England.’
‘Then you must enter!’ She beamed at them and pulled the door open wide. ‘Your servant?’
Darcy waved to Burgess. ‘Will wait in the carriage.’
‘Come to the salon. I will tell George! May I offer coffee? Make yourselves at home. Mrs Benn, you said?’
Elizabeth had actually said Miss Bennet, but she let this pass, fearing that if Wickham heard their names he might slip out the back.
They heard voices upstairs, a maid brought a tray with strong coffee made in French style, and five minutes later a bleary and bewildered man appeared in the doorway, and turned so pale Elizabeth thought he might faint.
‘What the deuce …’
Darcy bowed. ‘Good morning, George.’
‘How in heaven’s name …’
‘I must apologise, Mr Fawcett, for the shock,’ Elizabeth said smoothly. ‘We spotted you at the opera, and I hoped you might have information about—a lady we both know.’
Wickham looked warily first at Darcy then at Elizabeth. ‘You are married?’
‘No.’ Elizabeth saw no point in deception. ‘We are in a party touring Europe, and saw you by sheer chance. All we seek is information. Nothing more.’
The door opened and Mrs Fawcett looked in.
‘Tout va bien?’
‘Yes, dear.’ Wickham still oozed charm. ‘Why not take coffee with Milena in the garden?’
A friendly smile, and she left them alone.
‘So.’ Elizabeth lowered her voice. ‘Lydia.’
‘You should not be concerned.’ Wickham spoke to Elizabeth, as if they were alone. ‘I left your sister in good hands.’
He waited, as if expecting appreciation of this news, and Elizabeth replied evenly, ‘Where? When?’
‘Brussels, and it would have been …’ He paused, thinking. ‘Two years ago. Summer 18.’
‘Since then you have heard nothing?’
‘I had to leave the city rather suddenly, you see. And she was seeing Lieutenant Mullins, so I suppose she moved in with him.’
Darcy frowned. ‘You abandoned her?’
‘More the other way around.’
Elizabeth sighed. ‘Perhaps you had better explain from the beginning.’
‘You mean …’
‘Brighton.’
‘Well, Miss Lydia came to stay with the Forsters, as you know, and we called a few times: Denny, Pratt, Chamberlayne, myself. We had quite a lot of fun, played games on the beach, visited the Regent’s pavilion, danced in the evenings, but unfortunately there came a moment when I felt I had to leave town.’ He swallowed. ‘I was cheated at cards and incurred debts which I could not pay. I informed Pratt of my plan, in confidence, and the idiot told Miss Lydia that I had hired a chaise for midnight that day. Which horrified her, since she imagined we were in love.’
Elizabeth studied him, impressed that he could confess this tale with such sincerity and lack of shame. ‘So she was mistaken?’
‘Of course. So I had a problem. Miss Lydia insisted that if I was leaving that night, she had to come too, otherwise she would feel obliged to mention my plan to Mrs Forster. This left me no alternative, and I said all right, she could join me, but she must not breathe a word to anyone. We would go to London, then Gretna.’
‘I assume you never intended marriage,’ Elizabeth said.
Wickham shrugged. ‘I planned to leave her in London, where she could go to her uncle for help in getting home.’
‘Then why take her abroad?’ Darcy asked.
‘I did my best.’ Another gesture of helplessness. ‘I was ready to leave my lodgings. I had secured a large bank loan. And papers in another name …’
‘Fawcett?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘Preston. Fawcett was later. So I explained my plan to Miss Lydia, who lay in bed all day, desolate, refused to eat, and threatened she would take poison. I suppose I should have simply left her. But I was soft-hearted and in the end gave in, afraid she would harm herself.’
‘The loan was to repay your gambling debts?’ Elizabeth asked.
Wickham looked at her as if she were deranged. ‘There was no way I could meet any of my debts. I needed money to go abroad.’
‘Brussels?’ Darcy asked.
‘Antwerp first. But I couldn’t understand the local lingo, Flemish, so yes, we went down to Brussels.’
‘Was Lydia still expecting a wedding?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘I explained there was no need: we had papers for Mr and Mrs Preston.’ Wickham paused to drink coffee. ‘For a year we just about managed. Frankly, I found Miss Lydia a burden, and spent most of the day away. But people knew us as a married couple, so it was easier to continue the pretence, and I felt sorry for her. With the war going on, officers from our armies were often passing through. Dutch, Prussian—and of course, British. While I was away, Miss Lydia went out to the parks and taverns, where she made new friends. And in winter 1813, after the Battle of Leipzig, along came Lieutenant Frederick Mullins. He had fought in the battle and retired to lick his wounds.’
‘But the British played no part in Leipzig,’ Darcy said.
‘He was in a British rocket brigade operating under Swedish command.’
Darcy frowned. ‘Rocket brigade?’
‘It’s a long-range weapon. A bamboo cane fixed to a tin tube packed with gunpowder, with a second chamber that explodes on landing.’
‘So the lieutenant survived Leipzig?’ Darcy whistled.
‘With scars. And a vow not to endure such insane carnage ever again.’
‘He was a deserter?’ Darcy asked.
‘On leave, to convalesce.’
‘And Lydia formed an—alliance, with this man?’ Elizabeth pressed.
‘She lodged with me, at my expense, and spent most of her time with Lieutenant Mullins.’ A shrug. ‘Then in 18 came victory over Napoleon—or so we thought. By now I had spent my money, and become acquainted with Claudette.’ He pointed in the direction of the back garden. ‘So I sought a fresh loan from a French bank, and acquired another set of papers.’
‘Mr and Mrs Fawcett,’ Darcy said.
‘Just so. And Claudette and I headed for Prussia and the Austrian Empire.’
‘Have you married?’ Darcy asked.
‘People believe what they are told.’
Elizabeth paused, thinking. ‘Did you inform Lydia, or Lieutenant Mullins, of your plans?’
Wickham shook his head. ‘Too risky.’
‘So you cannot say for sure that she went to live with Mullins? What if he was unwilling?’
‘He was most taken with her.’
‘I wonder …’ Elizabeth took a deep breath. ‘While you were in Antwerp or Brussels, did Lydia ever send a letter to inform my family that she was living abroad?’
‘I ordered her not to. Of course I sympathised with the anxiety your family must feel. But such a communication would have betrayed our location.’ An innocent smile. ‘At least you knew she was with me.’
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and replied with heavy irony, ‘A considerable relief.’
‘Remember that I stayed with Miss Lydia until it became evident that she preferred another man. And then, without rancour, left her under his protection.’
This utterance was greeted with incredulous silence, until Darcy asked, ‘Have you an address for the lieutenant?’
‘Rue de l’étoile, at the time I left. I don’t recall a number, but halfway down, on the side of the Minimes hospital.’
Elizabeth looked at Darcy. ‘Anything else?’
‘No.’ Darcy turned to Wickham. ‘Your tale is hardly edifying, George, but I hope it is at least truthful, and that you have not omitted facts that might help us trace Miss Lydia.’
‘All true. I swear it on my honour.’
‘In that case …’ Darcy threw a glance at Elizabeth. ‘You might like to tell Miss Bennet what transpired in regard to your ambition to become a clergyman. This would be useful, I believe, as a demonstration of the dedication to truth that you just alluded to.’
Wickham paused, then with a shrug faced Elizabeth. ‘It was much as I explained in Hertfordshire. I was promised a living if I took holy orders, but undecided whether to go into the church or the law. It was agreed that I would renounce the living and accept instead ￡3000. Unfortunately the law and I did not get on well, so I threw myself on Mr Darcy’s generosity and enquired whether I could return to my earlier plan and take the living. He refused.’
Elizabeth had believed Darcy’s earlier account, but to hear it confirmed by Wickham was so shocking that for a moment she was lost for words. Eventually she took a deep breath and said, ‘Understandably, don’t you think?’
He made no reply, and Elizabeth rose. ‘Please give our compliments to Madame Claudette, and thank her for the coffee.’
Wickham watched them warily. ‘That is all?’
Darcy grimaced. ‘For now.’ He met Elizabeth’s eye, and she thought she understood. Justice would probably catch up with Wickham in the end. But the priority was to find Lydia.