Chapter 7 #2
“What if…” Her mind raced, seeking a solution. She grasped at her first desperate idea. “What if I helped you win an heiress wealthier than me?”
“Nice try, madam. I shan’t be put off. Besides, you might already be with child.”
The words hung in the cold air like the sombre knell of church bells. Yet she would not give up hope.
“What if I’m not?”
“It changes nothing. What matters is that Darcy wanted you—but now I shall have you.”
“You…” She swallowed down the knot in her throat. Her words tasted like wormwood. “You did this to punish Darcy?”
The floorboards creaked as he paced. The mocking tone of his voice was replaced by bitterness. “Had I been legitimate, Pemberley would be mine. Because I was born on the wrong side of the blanket, he got everything, and I got nothing.”
Her jaw dropped, shock cresting over her like a looming wave. She jumped down from the table and faced him fully. “You mean…Darcy is your brother?”
“My mother was George Darcy’s mistress. As she told me on her deathbed, he gave her up after his betrothal to Lady Anne. When my mother married the Darcys’ steward, a cuckoo was in the nest. Eight months later, I was born.”
“And your natural father did nothing for you?”
“He tried to provide for me in his will. I was to have the best clerical living in the family’s holdings. Instead, Darcy cast me out and left me penniless. But now I’ll have my revenge.”
From somewhere in the distance, an owl’s mournful cry echoed through the woods. The sound seemed to mock Caroline’s dreadful predicament.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” She wanted to weep—he’d done this because of a misunderstanding. Yet she did not despair. Perhaps she could use that to her advantage.
“I’ve been pursuing Darcy for years.” The vapor of her breath dissipated into the darkness.
“He still hasn’t offered for me. If you want to hurt him, seduce Jane Bennet.
My brother is in love with her. Darcy would be more distressed to see Charles broken-hearted, than to see me forced to marry you.
And Jane’s fortune is greater than mine. ”
Wickham’s silhouette shifted in the darkness. “Her dowry is five thousand to your twenty.”
“Yes, but she’s heiress to a property worth two thousand a year. Marry Jane, and you’ll become a country gentleman—as you were born to be. Longbourn is no Pemberley, but it’s more of a prize than the interest on my dowry.”
He laughed, low and menacing. “Do you know what I could buy with twenty thousand pounds?”
“Better five thousand now, and two thousand a year for the rest of your life.”
“After Jane inherits.”
“Until then,” Caroline insisted, “you can live at Longbourn and receive an allowance. You can negotiate that in the marriage contract.”
Silence stretched between them as Wickham seemed to consider her proposal. “I’m not entirely opposed to the idea. Marrying Jane Bennet was my original plan, before I met you.”
“And just think of this,” Caroline said. “If I’m enceinte—and I convince Darcy to marry me—your child could inherit Pemberley.”
That argument seemed to sway him. His voice held a note of admiration that made her skin crawl. “Fine. Help me win Jane Bennet, and I’ll tell no one I’ve ruined you. If we fail, every member of fashionable society will know I’ve had you. No one will want you but me.”
Caroline didn’t argue. If Wickham married Jane, then Charles would be free to marry Georgiana Darcy. That, at least, was one consolation of this disastrous night.
∞∞∞
Clouds hid the moon as Caroline stumbled through the garden pathway as if in a dream.
The night wind swirled through the trees, carrying the earthy scent of decaying leaves and the chill of approaching winter.
How fitting that everything around her was withering whilst her own future was crumbling to dust.
She turned herself around and had to backtrack twice before finding the route to the house. She approached the back, crossing the path to the servants’ entrance. A rustling caught her ear. She turned, and a dark figure approached. Caroline stepped into the shadow beneath an elm.
Who could be stirring at this time of night? Had that villain Wickham sent someone to accost her?
But as the figure neared, she discerned a woman’s form, or perhaps a child—too small to be a man. The house should be shut up for the night. Was a maid stealing out for an assignation?
Or was it her guilty conscience that made her wonder so? The clouds parted, and the full moon felt like a spotlight, exposing Caroline’s shame.
She couldn’t think about that now. The other woman’s features became clear, and Caroline recognised her at once. It was Minnie, the housemaid, carrying a valise.
Minnie, who had given her the note, and claimed it was from Darcy.
Caroline sprang on her. “Impudent wench!”
Minnie jumped and dropped her case. Before she could run, Caroline grabbed her and slapped her. “You lied to me. You were in league with that devil.”
“I’m sorry, miss,” Minnie cried. “I know I did wrong. I’ll be on my way. You’ll never have to look on me again.”
“On your way!” Caroline clutched the maid’s wrist. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be lucky if you can walk!”
“Please, miss! If you won’t have pity on me, have pity on my poor, innocent babe.”
Caroline stepped back. Good heavens! Did Minnie have a baby with her? In the moonlight, Caroline could see nothing of the sort.
“I’m with child, ma’am, and that fiend Wickham is at fault.
He forced me, and he wouldn’t take responsibility.
He said if I gave you the letter, and told you it was from Mr. Darcy, he would give me some money.
Not for me, ma’am, but for the child. I’d never do such a wicked thing for my own sake.
I was so shamed by what he did to me. I can never hope to find a place in a respectable house again.
Please, have mercy on my innocent babe!”
Caroline was tempted to slap the girl again and accuse her of lying. But the ring of truth in her story was just substantial enough that Caroline wondered if the woman could be of use.
“Wait,” Caroline said, “don’t go.”
“Miss?”
“I could use your help. Do as I say, and I’ll make sure your child is cared for. Cross me, and you’ll end up in the workhouse.”
Greed rippled through the woman’s voice. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll be happy to help.”
“Go back to your room. Take care to wake no one. We’ll discuss this in the morning.”
The wench curtseyed, and Caroline watched her make her way back to the servant’s entrance. Then, Caroline slinked towards the side door she had left unbolted.
She needed an ally. One way or another, she would make Wickham pay.