Chapter 18 Spirited Away #2
Darcy did not point out that an establishment such as this likely had more than one door and that Mr Bennet would not manage to stop a desperate soldier, but he refrained and trudged up the stairs.
The door led into the common room, and patrons in various degrees of disarray were occupying the tables, though the room was by no means full to its capacity.
In a distant corner, an incensed Lydia was sitting with her arms folded in front of her whilst berating Wickham.
The culprit sat with his back to the door, receiving the admonishment with barely a shrug.
He was either stupid or the men occupying the room were his cronies.
Upon his entrance, the murmur quieted and Wickham turned. Darcy was startled by the sight of his face. Strings of angry red marks marred his cheeks, his lip was bleeding, and he looked unsurprised at seeing him.
Lydia rose with a haughty demeanour. “I would like to go home, Mr Darcy.”
“Certainly. Your father is downstairs, and you should join him. I shall speak to Wickham before we depart.”
Wickham, the snake that he was, waved his hands in the air, signalling full surrender. How Darcy would have enjoyed it if the blackguard instead had egged him to fight. He was not so much a gentleman that he would feel prohibited from throwing the first punch.
“I am mighty glad to see you, Darcy.”
Those were the last words he had ever expected to come out of Wickham’s mouth.
“Those Bennet women are as spunky as spitfires.”
Darcy grabbed Wickham by the arm, hauling him out of the room and along the passage until he found an empty room in which to talk privately. That he came without protest was the only surprise.
“You should have thought about that before you absconded with a gentleman’s daughter.”
“I certainly did not! The chit entered my carriage willingly.”
“Under the pretence that she was to be conveyed back to her parents.”
Wickham stepped back from him. “It was only a lark, Darcy. I’m a bit short of blunt, and the fifty pounds would set me up nicely for a month or more.”
“What fifty pounds?” Darcy spat.
“An anonymous letter arrived while I was still at Belle Vue Field. It offered me fifty pounds if I came to town to kiss Miss Lydia. In it was a five-pound note and instructions to take a room at the inn on Lombard Street to await further instructions. Today, I was sent a message that she would be present at that location, though she was late to arrive. I was about to return home when she finally appeared. It was only a peck, mind you. Nothing more than what you would offer any lady who had positioned herself under the mistletoe at Christmas. I was aghast when she reciprocated the insignificant gesture by nearly clawing my eyes out!”
“I do not believe you! If it was so, you had no need to haul her back to this filthy hovel.”
“I would not have, if not for the unhinged sister. First, she rejected my kind offer to convey her back to her parents. I thought nothing of it. Miss Bennet reminds me of Shakespeare’s sanctimonious pirate. The one who went to sea with the ten commandments but scraped one off the table.”
“Why? Because she is inured to your charms?”
Wickham laughed, shook his head, and continued his narration.
“When we set off, she screamed like a banshee that I was kidnapping her sister. I thought it best to leave the area before one of the watchmen was stirred from his sleep and threw me into Newgate for absconding with a gentleman’s daughter. ”
“Which you were!”
“No. I was not. I had yet to kiss Lydia, and she was laughing gaily at her sister’s expense. If you do not believe me, here is the note I received this morning.”
Wickham handed Darcy a tattered piece of paper, which he unfolded and read. It was not the words that surprised him but the writing. It was scribbled in the same hand as the rescinded invitation…
“Are you prepared to marry her?” Darcy asked whilst his mind was reeling.
“That wildcat?”
Darcy stepped closer in unmitigated rage. Wickham was backed against the wall with no means of escape, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in fear.
“Certainly, I would if you insist, but as I said, my finances are not what they ought to be to care for a wife. I have,” he cleared his throat, “run up somewhat of a debt.”
“How much?” Darcy growled.
“I’m not sure. Somewhere in the region of three thousand pounds.”
That Wickham owed such a sum surprised him not at all. It was enough to put him away at Newgate for the rest of his life—if he even managed to escape the noose.
“If you marry Lydia and move far away from me, I shall pay your debts. Her father might even be able to give her a small allowance from his estate. Do we have a deal?”
“Yes,” Wickham hastened to say and offered his hand to shake.
Darcy looked at the offending object with disgust. It irked him no end that he was forced to bargain with the miscreant. But he realised that he had no choice if Lydia were to escape with her respectability intact.
“You should remain here until further notice. If you flee, I shall hunt you down and maim you within an inch of your life.”
“Stand down, Darcy. I’m not a violent man.”
With a parting look of disdain, Darcy left the rogue and escorted Mr Bennet and Lydia to Gracechurch Street. It was out of the question to take the enraged girl to Darcy House. He had better summon Elizabeth to talk some sense into her.
But he had further proof of a nefarious scheme…