Chapter 9 #3
Elizabeth was shocked to her core. However, when she thought about what she had seen that first night those from the parsonage had gone to the manor house for dinner, it should not be so very surprising.
She dreaded what was to come because Mr Darcy had accepted responsibility for where he was wrong and refuted the charges of which he had spoken.
Next would be Mr Wickham, and Elizabeth had a feeling that the judgement, she liked to believe was never faulty, was about to be proved very wrong. There was nothing for it; she continued reading on.
Now I will address that final, more serious accusation, of having injured Mr Wickham.
I can only refute that accusation by laying before you the whole of his connection with my family.
Of what he has particularly accused me of I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity.
If needed, I will provide for you, through either my uncle, Lord Matlock, or my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, a copy of my father’s will to prove what I am about to say here.
You may apply to my cousin, his parents, or my eldest cousin to verify the veracity of my words.
George Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates.
Due to Mr Lucas Wickham’s good conduct in the discharge of his duties and the way my father trusted him, naturally inclined him to be of service to Mr Lucas Wickham, as well as to his son, George.
After Wickham’s late mother manipulated my father into becoming her son’s godfather, my father did, up to a certain point, liberally bestow his kindness on George Wickham.
After Mr Lucas Wickham saved my father’s life, he decided to provide an education for the steward’s son.
My father supported him at school when Wickham was sent to Harrow, and afterwards at Oxford.
Seeing that his own father was always poor from the extravagance of his late wife, he had not the funds to spare.
Hence, he would have been unable to give his son a gentleman’s education.
My father was not only fond of this engaging young man’s society, but he had also, as I said earlier, up to a point, the highest opinion of him.
As for myself and my cousins, it is many, many years since we first began to think of Wickham in a very different manner.
The vicious propensities—the want of principle, which he was careful to hide from my father’s eyes—could not escape the observation of young men close to an age with himself.
We saw him in unguarded moments, which my father did not.
Here again I may give you pain; to what degree, only you can tell.
But whatever may be the sentiments which Wickham has created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding his real character.
In fact, if they are tender, it gives me another reason to tell you the following.
My father’s feelings towards him changed in Wickham’s first year at Oxford, where he forced himself on a maid. My father withdrew as his godfather, ceased augmenting his allowance, and gave him one last chance to complete his education with my father bearing the cost of said education.
It is true that Father had hoped the church would be his profession. In an older version of his Last Will and Testament, he intended to provide for him in it. George Wickham was not aware that my father then changed his will and removed his name from it altogether.
Before the end of his second year at Oxford, Wickham was sent down for cheating, among other offences. It was then my father told him that all support for him had been withdrawn.
Mr Lucas Wickham was called home in November of 1803. There was no proof discovered, but the physician believed Mr Wickham was murdered. After he was sent down, George Wickham lived with his father, so it was suspected he was to blame.
My excellent father died, in what was at first seen as a riding accident, while I was on my tour of the United Kingdom.
Some years back, his horse had almost stepped on an adder.
When the viper bit at the horse, he bolted.
That was when the senior Mr Wickham saved Father’s life.
I mention this because some weeks after my father’s demise, a sack was found near where he perished.
It had been cut open. The suspicion is that he was murdered by none other than George Wickham who had been riding with him that day, which was the day before Wickham was to leave Pemberley forever.
There is no definitive proof, but we suspect that George Wickham has committed two murders.
A few days after my father was interred, Wickham came by to collect his bequest which he believed he was due. When he was told there was none, he was not happy and swore revenge.
If his aim in murdering my father was to stop him changing his will (his local solicitor said he had an appointment with my late father to sign a revised will the day after his passing) then Wickham was a few years too late.
As I mentioned before, Father made the change after the incident with the maid at Oxford.
About two years ago Wickham had the temerity to write to me requesting financial assistance.
His circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad.
As I knew him to be a gamester and seducer of innocents, you will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty or for resisting every repetition of it.
His resentment was in proportion to the distress of his circumstances—and he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others as in his reproaches to myself.
Much to my pleasure I did not hear from him again for some time.
That was, until last summer when he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice.
Again, I apologise if the following occasions you pain.
George Wickham is a vile seducer of young ladies, more like girls.
He targets those 15 years of age or younger who are not as protected as they could be.
He makes love to them, proposes marriage, and tells his victims that the proposal needs to be kept secret.
Then, he tells the girls that if they truly love him they will anticipate their vows.
He uses them, and when he has had his fill, he abandons them to the shame and in some cases the consequences.
You may ask how I know this. I am caring for four of his victims and their children at Pemberley, and they told all.
The other way he damages communities who show him nothing but welcome, is to run up debts, and then, as soon as the merchants clamour for him to pay, he disappears like a thief in the night.
This I know because I have bought up all of the debts I know of so that honest men will not be beggared by an unscrupulous blackguard.
As of the writing of this letter, I hold over ?2,000 in his debts.
“Then why have you not had him thrown into debtors prison? Also, why did you warn no one in Meryton?” Elizabeth asked aloud. Her eyes slid back to the gripping letter.
Knowing you, you are asking why I have not moved against him. Following is something very hurtful to me that I must relate. Until this occurred, I had never caught up to Wickham, so I was not able to consign him to debtor’s prison where he belongs.
As much as it pains me to have to do so, I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself, and which no situation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said this much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy.
My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship of my mother’s nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and myself.
About a year ago, she was taken from school, and an establishment formed for her in London; and last summer she went with the lady who presided over it, to Ramsgate; and thither also went Wickham, undoubtedly by design.
After the fact, it was discovered that there had been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived.
With the companion’s cooperation and aid, Wickham recommended himself to Anna, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child.
She was persuaded to believe herself in love and consented to an elopement.
She was then but 15, which must be her excuse; and after stating her imprudence, I am happy to add, that I owed the knowledge of it to herself.
I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement, and then Anna, unable to support the idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me.
You may imagine what I felt and how I acted. Wanting to guard my sister against scandal was my only reason for not moving against Wickham then. At any rate, before I could do anything, like the coward he is, Wickham turned tail and ran. Mrs Younge was, of course, sacked on the spot.
Wickham’s chief object was unquestionably my sister’s fortune, which is ?30,000. I cannot help supposing that the hope of harming me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been complete indeed.
This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of planning to direct my sister to Mr Bingley, proposing to you when I was already engaged, and cruelty towards Wickham.
I know not in what manner or under what form of falsehood he had imposed on you, but his success is not perhaps to be wondered at. Ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning either, detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly not in your inclination.
You may possibly wonder why all this was not related to you last night. I was not then master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. You experienced my proposal which was nothing like I planned because I felt nervous.
As I mentioned before, either my uncle or Colonel Fitzwilliam is able to provide you with a copy of the will, and the Fitzwilliams will attest to the validity of all my claims. They will be ashamed of me for my slighting you at the assembly as well as my actions with regard to your sister, and I am prepared to accept their censure, as it is deserved.
My uncle Reggie, the Earl of Matlock, is one of the executors of my father’s will, and he is acquainted with every particular of these transactions.
If your abhorrence of me should make my assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin and his family.
Once I depart, you will have more than enough opportunity to speak to the Fitzwilliams; they will be here for some weeks yet, as I understand, you will be too.
I will only add, God bless you,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Elizabeth did the only thing she could with the mortification she felt. She began to sob.
The fact that Mr Darcy urged her to verify what he said with others told her it was true.
What had Mr Wickham offered her? A charming smile, a handsome countenance, and lies.
She had been the ninny who had allowed Mr Darcy’s intemperate words to cause her to want to believe the worst of him.
That had left her open to drink up Mr Wickham’s lies without thought.
She did not know herself anymore.