Chapter Fourteen
Darcy
Darcy folded the official notice with deliberate care, though his hands trembled slightly with the weight of what it contained.
The paper bore Lord Hartford’s seal and formal script, requesting that Mr Charles Bingley vacate Longbourn by month’s end to accommodate the incoming residence of Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy and his bride.
He knew its content because Lord Hartford had told him what it contained before he’d sent him to deliver it.
He hadn’t had the heart to give it to Bingley just yet.
The jovial young man had invited him for tea and spent some time chatting about his day.
It had been such a nice distraction he hadn’t been able to bring himself to say it out loud from the start.
Now, as he sat with his tea, he knew he could procrastinate no further.
“I am truly sorry, Bingley,” Darcy said, pushing the letter over to his friend. “This was never my intention when I accepted Lord Hartford’s arrangement.”
Bingley looked up from his own correspondence, noting the gravity in his friend’s expression. “What was never your intention?” He took the letter and broke the seal.
“The notice of vacancy. You must quit Longbourn by the end of November. Elizabeth and I are to take residence here after the wedding.” It had been a week since the events at the ball and he still had not quite got used to the idea of calling her Elizabeth without the title.
Nor the idea of being her husband. He hadn’t even spoken to her for days as she’d avoided him at all cost. All arrangements for the upcoming wedding had been made with Lord Hartford or her mother.
And now this. Bingley would surely blame him and it would mark the end of their friendship.
Bingley read the notice with characteristic equanimity, though Darcy caught the slight tightening around his eyes.
“Well, these things happen. I had rather expected something of this nature might arise. But no matter, I have my eye on another location. My father always said a trader must think three steps ahead and have alternate plans. Actually,, Caroline had been complaining that Longbourn was not grand enough for a newly appointed gentleman.”
Darcy blinked. “Is that so?”
“Yes, and to be truthful, I would like to pursue Lady Jane and it felt rather odd to elevate myself by purchasing her father’s estate.
So, I have been considering Ashworth Manor.
The property just beyond Meryton that came available last month.
” Bingley folded the notice neatly. “Mrs Ashworth wishes to let it furnished, whilst she removes to Bath.”
Darcy knew the property well—a handsome estate with good grounds and modern improvements. “Ashworth Manor is an excellent choice. Better situated than Longbourn, and the house itself is more spacious.”
“Caroline certainly thinks so. She’s been quite vocal about preferring it to our current arrangements.
I beg your pardon for not telling you sooner.
I was uncertain as to what would transpire and I know Lord Hartford had been eager to sell Longbourn.
I was in fact at point non plus as I did not know how to bring it up without offending him and harming my chances with Jane.
” Bingley’s smile held a trace of irony.
“But this solves it. Caroline will be delighted. Apparently our humble lodgings here do not suit her sense of consequence.”
“Miss Bingley remains with you, then? I thought she might have accompanied the Hursts back to London.”
“She elected to stay, though I suspect her motives have more to do with observing the local drama than any fondness for Hertfordshire society.” Bingley’s expression grew more serious.
“Speaking of which, I confess myself puzzled by the haste of your upcoming nuptials. The banns were read already, I hear? Is there due haste?”
“There is. Due to the circumstances,” he said and nodded.
“Ah, the rumours.”
Rumours had been rife throughout Meryton for days.
Nobody appeared to believe the tale of the stranger who had attempted to compromise Lady Elizabeth.
It was believed that she and Darcy had been engaged in a torrid tale of forbidden love and upon being caught, had conjured up a stranger to take the blame.
Wickham was not well known to many, having been in town for only a matter of days.
Therefore, he might as well have been a figment of their imagination as far as the good people of Meryton were concerned.
“Yes, the rumours,” Darcy confirmed.
“You do not think that Wickham might yet be found? I know that it seems it may not have been him after all. Lady Jane told me Lady Elizabeth appears uncertain now, but surely he should be found and questioned. Besides, I thought you had seen him. You told me as much that night.”
Darcy closed his eyes, feeling the weight of his secret pressing against his chest like a stone.
To carry it alone through marriage, through whatever future awaited.
The thought seemed unbearable. Besides, Darcy had told Bingley the night they went to search that he had seen Wickham.
He’d taken it back after the fact, but Bingley hadn’t entirely understood how things fitted together.
“If I tell you something,” he said without turning, “can I trust your complete discretion?”
“Of course. You need not even ask.”
“I lied. About the assailant. That night when I told you it was Wickham, I said so because I was certain. I saw him. Followed him. Lady Elizabeth’s eyes did not deceive her. It was him.”
Bingley blinked. “Then why did you say it was dark and you had not seen him clearly? I was utterly befogged by the change in tale for you were so certain at first.”
Darcy nodded. “I changed the tale. I know it was Wickham but I cannot say it out loud. I should not even tell you but I am at my wit’s end.
I thought if I said that I had not seen him, Lady Elizabeth would concede she had not been certain either.
Which she is not. She believes it was he, and she is right but she did not see him directly.
I thought perhaps with the uncertainty, it would all be over, a blackguard could be blamed and it would all go away, but Lord Hartford was certain it would not and pushed me into this marriage. ”
Bingley sat for a moment and said nothing but then nodded. “I see. And what is the reason you decided to protect him? You have spoken to me of Wickham and I can tell that he is not a man you care for. You grew up together but I do not see you protecting him at all cost. So why?”
Darcy stared at his friend, realising he had underestimated Bingley’s insight. “There is someone I must protect. Someone whose life would be destroyed if the truth came to light.”
“And who might that be? If it is not Wickham then…” he paused and snapped his fingers. “His father. Mr Wickham the elder.”
“His health is failing rapidly. I received a letter from Georgiana yesterday confirming his decline.” Darcy pulled the folded paper from his pocket. “The shock would kill him, Bingley. I am certain of it.”
“So you sacrifice justice to spare an old man’s heart. You are throwing away your future choice of bride to spare the old man.”
There was no judgement in his voice, only understanding.
“I protect a good man from dying of shame over his son’s crimes,” Darcy corrected.
“Though the distinction grows less clear each day. I understand that by protecting him, I am ruining my future and that of Lady Elizabeth. I feel terrible and I know I should stand up for her and declare the truth but it will kill Mr Wickham and he is the only family I have left other than my sister. And Georgiana… she adores him like a real father. He is the centre of her world. And in a way, I feel that Lady Elizabeth would still be in harm’s way even if Wickham was found.
He kissed her that night, I saw it. And if that was known then she may be just as ruined.
Society does not care if a woman was forced into the kiss or not.
If it happened she may be just as ruined. ”
They sat in silence for several minutes, the weight of the confession settling between them.
“Your secret is safe with me,” Bingley said finally.
“Absolutely safe. And I do agree, Lady Elizabeth might be just as ruined if Wickham was found. Certainly, there will be those who would not wish to go near a family who had been written about in the scandal sheets as they most certainly would be.”
Relief flooded through Darcy with unexpected intensity. “Thank you. I had not realised how desperately I needed someone to understand.”
“Have you considered telling Lady Elizabeth the truth?”
“To what end? She would demand justice regardless of the consequences. She does not think things through at times but acts more directly. It can be an admirable quality but in this case I do not know that it would serve us. Besides, I do not know where Wickham is. Even if I spoke up, half of Meryton believes Wickham was made up.” Darcy shook his head.
“I cannot expect her to value the life of an old man she has never met over her own vindication.”
“Perhaps you underestimate her compassion.”
“Perhaps I understand that she already believes me a coward. Learning that my uncertainty was calculated rather than genuine would only confirm her worst opinion of my character.”
Bingley nodded slowly. “A terrible burden to carry into marriage.”
“Indeed. Though I confess, knowing I no longer bear it entirely alone provides some comfort.” Darcy managed a slight smile. “Speaking of your own situation—have you had opportunity to examine Ashworth Manor closely?”
“Not yet. I planned to ride over this afternoon, actually.”
“I know the property well. Would you welcome company? I could point out particular advantages and potential concerns.”
“That would be most helpful, thank you.” Bingley’s expression brightened. “Caroline has been quite insistent about the superiority of the house itself, but I confess I would value your opinion on the practical aspects.”
“The drainage is excellent, and the home farm is well-maintained. Mrs Ashworth’s late husband was meticulous about improvements.” Darcy felt grateful for the shift to less fraught topics. “When do you hope to take possession?”
“Within the fortnight, if terms can be agreed. Which would place my removal just before your wedding—rather fitting timing, all things considered.”
As they made arrangements for their afternoon expedition, Darcy reflected on the strange comfort of shared confidences. For the first time since that terrible night, he felt marginally less alone with his impossible choices.
The fundamental problems remained unchanged, but perhaps shared burdens might prove more bearable than solitary ones.
It was not much, but it would have to be enough.