Chapter 29 #2
Darcy unclenched his jaw. “I was so angry that I left it on Father’s desk. I wished him to know I wanted nothing to do with him or my inheritance.” It had been the foolish gesture of a petulant boy.
“Did anybody see you do this?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Might Wickham have gone into your father’s study, saw the ring, and took it for himself?”
“That is my suspicion, though I must admire his foresight if that was the case. He could not have worn it or presumed to possess it lest his theft be discovered.”
Richard grunted. “We must consider the possibility. He is proving to be a better strategist than I considered possible.” He frowned.
“But to what end? Grant him every forgery he pleases—grant that all England believes you drowned off the Kent coast. The estate still is not his to take. Uncle George’s will names you.
Failing you, likely it names me. I am sure Wickham does not enter into it. ”
“He does not know that.” Darcy let it settle.
“He has never seen the will. Old Mr. Wickham had told him, year upon year, that my father had great plans for his godson, plans that would improve his station. Wickham believed it and borrowed his whole life against that expectation. Remove me, he reasons, and the estate falls to the man my father groomed to keep it. Himself.”
“Then he schemes for a fortune that was never his to scheme for.”
“Which makes him the more dangerous. A man will do a great deal to defend a lie he has staked his life upon.” Darcy made himself say it plainly.
“He cannot truly kill me—not to those who knew me in the cradle. But he can make it dear for me to prove I live. Let me stand up at the reading and declare myself, and he has a forged manifest, a bought sailor, and your father’s word that I lie drowned.
I should have to win back my own name against an earl. That is his offense.”
“And the defense?”
“Elizabeth. The whole of Pemberley hangs on one condition—that I marry her. Wickham need not keep me dead forever. He need only see her wed to him and not to me before the will is read. A betrothal she might break; a marriage she cannot. Let him reach the altar first, and it will not signify whether I am living or dead, Darcy or Robinson—I can never meet the terms, and the estate is beyond me for good.”
Richard swore softly. “He is not courting her at all, then.”
“He is closing a door, and he means to close it before the reading of the will, which is why he will not wait. He believes the estate comes to him. He is wrong. But he will not know it until Wrayburn reads it aloud.”
“You do not suspect he will attempt to elope with her, do you?”
A shiver ran through Darcy. “We dare not discount the possibility.”
Richard mulled this over for several paces.
“Thus far, he has not dirtied his hands directly. He is attempting to have you declared dead when he could kill you… or have you killed. He might have had you set upon in the road and been done with it. It is the surer course.” Richard’s mouth twitched. “Not that I recommend it.”
“I am grateful he has less stomach for it than you.”
“And a lighter purse. A lie comes cheaper than a cutthroat.” He sobered. “That he schemes rather than strikes tells me he is more deluded than wicked—a man claiming what he fancies his own, not a murderer or abductor. Still, stay vigilant.”
“He is building a case against my character. Before his call, I had every intention of revealing the truth to Elizabeth.” Now it was Darcy who kicked a rock, sending it flying to the side of the road.
“I regret not seizing the opportunity when I had it. I will sound desperate if I say anything now, and I would need to provide stronger proof than Wickham before she will believe a word I say. I will lose her trust and be in no position to protect her.”
“What a mess.”
Darcy scoffed. “Of my own creation. That is the worst of it.”
“Your motive was to help.”
“And yet it is Wickham they will consider with favor.”
Richard clenched his hands into fists, his pace increasing. “I will return to London immediately, speak to the so-called witness, and find the clerk who must have accepted a bribe to write your name in the passenger log. Then I will present the evidence to The Times and demand a retraction.”
Although Darcy was not sure of the correct course yet, he knew that to react in haste was the surest way to err.
The odds were currently in Wickham’s favor, and it would continue to be so until they could discredit him completely.
While exposing his lies would be satisfying work, during the course of their investigation, Elizabeth would be left exposed to his company.
“We must take time to consider, Rich. The newspaper will have to print a retraction when I appear for the reading of the will at Pemberley. Wickham can fool a family who has never met me, but he will not be able to convince my own family and a household of servants with whom I grew up that I am not Fitzwilliam Darcy. I suggest you confer with Wrayburn and Reynolds. They will devise a plan to deal with Wickham and the newspaper.”
They continued on, thinking and walking quietly until Richard broke the silence. “You are right. All will be revealed at Pemberley. Until then, we must bide our time. I will do what I can to divert my family from Wickham’s influence and see how much help I can be to Reynolds.”
His pace slowed again, and his shoulders relaxed. Darcy anticipated the inquiry that was to follow when Richard peeked over at him from the sides of his eyes.
“Do you love her?” The air seeped from Darcy’s lungs, and Richard gave him a good-natured shove. “You do! Of course you do, or you would not be tangled up in this mess! Nothing addles a sound mind greater than an amorous heart.”
“I am a fool.” His curiosity was at fault for causing him to get involved in this tangled lie that had opened him to Wickham’s attacks.
He merely had been curious to meet Elizabeth.
Then he had wanted to help her. Now he could not leave her until he was certain she was cared for and happy.
That he wished to be a source of her happiness was the diabolical twist he had not expected when he left the continent to set sail for England.
“We are all fools in love.” Richard nudged him in the ribs with his pointy elbow. “She is as fine a young lady as you are likely to ever meet. Spirited. Sensible. Handsome.” With a dry laugh, “I wonder how you can bear it, knowing she was your father’s choice?”
Darcy could hardly believe it himself. He so rarely saw eye to eye with his father… no, it was worse than that… he could not recall agreeing with his father on anything. It was as if his father had decided to make Darcy’s life as miserable as he could in the time Darcy remained under his roof…
But that could not have been the case. Perhaps it had been the result, but he could no longer believe with one hundred percent certainty that his father’s motivation had been a desire to make Darcy’s life a misery.
In the same way, Mr. Bennet did not truly mean to harm his family, although that was the result of his disinterest. The man’s consideration for his own comfort before that of his family was painful to witness.
Darcy’s mother probably had often felt as he did now.
How often he had seen her cheeks streak-stained after another clash of opinions between himself and his father.
He had always blamed Father, but it was time that he own up to his share of the blame.
Had he considered his mother’s happiness—and that of his little sister, and that of even the servants, who endured their tense moods—more than his own pride, she would not have had reason for tears.
He and his father might have learned to communicate without disagreeing on every point, each determined to prove himself in the right.
Darcy’s chest tightened and he swallowed the lump swelling in his throat.
“I wish I could ask him what he saw in Elizabeth, how he determined that we would make a good match.” It would be a blessing to possess the same certainty his father always had; while Darcy knew she was perfect for him, he was not as certain that he was the man she deserved.
Richard clapped Darcy on the shoulder and squeezed. They walked in silence until they reached Meryton and parted ways—Richard for London, and Darcy back to Longbourn.