Chapter 11
Lizzy instinctively followed as Darcy rushed towards the sound of the high-pitched feminine shriek. The din of whispers from the ballroom faded as they neared the library. Jane’s voice became audible.
“Charles, you must believe me,” she pleaded. “The man forced his attentions on me. The maid can verify that.”
“I see no maid,” Bingley’s cold voice responded.
Lizzy reached the doorway to find Jane pale and trembling. Bingley was red-faced, his jaw tight, his eyes dark and glinting. Caroline was at his side.
But what froze Lizzy’s blood was Mr. Wickham standing next to Jane, looking as smug as a lord.
What was Wickham even doing in the house? He hadn’t been invited. In fact, according to Jane, Bingley had told the butler and footmen not to admit him. Bingley had been afraid he might cause trouble—and Jane had worried for their youngest sisters.
But none of them had imagined this.
Darcy shooed the onlookers away and closed the door. Jane’s eyes glistened with moisture, but her words were fire.
“The maid was here,” Jane insisted. “Caroline stepped on my hem and the lace ripped. She asked Minnie to help me fix it. Minnie brought me here, and Mr. Wickham was waiting.”
“It’s no use, Jane,” Wickham said. “We’ve been discovered, and you’re ruined. There is nothing for it but for you to marry me.”
She turned on him. “I—marry you! I’ll never bind myself to a blackguard who placed his hands on me against my will. And how dare you use my Christian name?”
Wickham shook his head. “It’s time to stop the play-acting, my love—”
“I’m not your love!” Jane cried, fists clenched at her side. She was a portrait of outrage and confusion. “Why are you doing this?”
“For your dowry, I imagine,” Lizzy said. “I understand that Mr. Wickham has a history of disgraceful behaviour. Of trying to compromise young ladies to gain access to their fortunes.”
“He does indeed.” Darcy’s voice was tight and fierce.
A guttural sound escaped from Jane—an expression of raw fury like nothing Lizzy had heard from her before. Jane’s jaw was tight with ire, her cheeks streaked with scarlet like a blazing sunset.
Lizzy ran a comforting hand down her sister’s back. “He must have paid Minnie to assist in his scheme. She lured you here so you would be found alone with him, and then she disappeared.”
Darcy called to the butler and ordered the staff to search for Minnie.
“That’s nonsense,” Caroline said. “I know what I saw. Jane was in Mr. Wickham’s arms—”
“Not willingly!” Jane cried.
“You appeared quite willing to me,” Caroline countered.
Tears filled Jane’s eyes, which were trained on Caroline. “I thought we were friends. I thought you wanted to be my sister. How can you take Mr. Wickham’s side over mine?”
“I’m taking my brother’s side.” Caroline spoke with a haughty tone. “I won’t watch him be made a fool.”
“Bingley, listen to me.” Darcy’s voice was impassioned. “Wickham is a villain of the worst kind. I don’t believe for a moment that Miss Bennet was untrue to you. This is a trick.”
Poor Bingley looked devastated and bewildered, as if unsure what to do or whom to believe. “I can’t go through with an engagement announcement under the circumstances. Let us hear what Minnie has to say, once she’s found.”
But Minnie wasn’t found. A search of the house turned up nothing. The housekeeper reported that Minnie’s room was empty, her meagre possessions gone.
“Is that not proof,” Darcy argued, “that Minnie was part of a scheme to discredit Miss Bennet? She has disappeared like a thief in the night.”
“That’s because she is a thief,” Caroline blurted.
All eyes turned to her. She continued haltingly, “After Minnie returned from helping Jane… I caught her stuffing some of the silver into her apron.” Her words gained in confidence.
“I dismissed her and told her to pack her things. Then, I brought Charles here to consult him about the matter. To ask whether to call the magistrate, or just dismiss her without a reference.”
Jane’s eyes widened. She spoke in a tone both cold and incredulous. “You’re lying. There was no time for that. Not one minute passed from when Minnie brought me here, and when you and Charles came in. You’re part of this scheme!”
“That’s enough.” Bingley spoke with cold resignation in his tone. “For some time, Caroline has suspected a connection between you and Wickham. Unless you can show that my own sister has set out to deceive me…” He broke off and shook his head. “I cannot move forward with the wedding.”
The fight in Jane crumbled. She looked as if she might shatter into pieces on the floor.
Lizzy enveloped Jane in her arms, harbouring no doubt that Caroline had been involved in this treachery. As yet, Lizzy couldn’t prove it. But she would find a way.
Silent tears spilled from Jane’s eyes. Lizzy stroked her hair.
“Mr. Bingley,” Lizzy said, “I’ve never been so disappointed with anyone in my life.
Your dear friend Mr. Darcy has confirmed that this behaviour is typical of Wickham.
He’s just the sort of scoundrel to compromise a young woman this way.
The disappearance of the maid at this exact moment suggests her complicity.
And yet you doubt my sister’s word? You don’t deserve her. She has made a lucky escape.”
Strangled sobs rose from Jane’s throat. Lizzy continued to hold her whilst Darcy delivered Wickham to two footmen to escort him from the house. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet came and ushered Jane away.
Meanwhile, Bingley and Caroline spoke in low tones. Darcy exhorted him, but Caroline led her brother from the room. Dazed, Lizzy met Darcy’s eyes. The library was quiet now, the two of them alone.
He offered her a handkerchief. She brushed away the quiet tears that had fallen unnoticed from her eyes. But more replaced them. She trembled and began to cry.
Darcy embraced her and whispered sweet words into her ear. “Hush, my love. Don’t distress yourself. All will be well. I’ll make that villain pay for every one of your tears.”
She gasped in a breath, her lungs tight. This whole episode felt like a nightmare. But in Darcy’s arms, his promises in her ear, she let herself believe him. He was the stalwart knight who would rescue the village from the dragon.
∞∞∞
Darcy’s heart filled with a jumble of emotions. He ached at Elizabeth’s pain as if it were his own. Yet she felt so good in his arms, he never wanted to let her go.
“I’ll make this right,” he reassured her. “Wickham won’t get away with this. I’ll find the maid and get the truth from her.”
Her voice cracked as she asked, “But how?”
That was a good question. Darcy considered his options. He knew some of Wickham’s favourite London haunts from their younger days. If he’d helped Minnie escape, he’d likely sent her there.
After the failed elopement with Georgiana, Darcy had kept up with Wickham’s movements. If anything, the man’s associates were an even rougher bunch than before. And Wickham was in debt to a vicious St. Giles gaming hall owner.
“I know some of Wickham’s contacts in London,” Darcy said. “With that lot, coin triumphs over loyalty. If I can’t find her there, I’ll go to Derbyshire.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I can’t ask you to go to so much trouble for my family.”
“You’re not asking. Besides, Bingley is my friend. I’m doing this for him as well. And for myself. I can’t bear for anything to hurt you.”
“Darcy…” Her sweet voice trembled. The sound broke his heart.
“I want to do this,” he insisted, his hands stroking her arms. “I shan’t let this injustice stand.”
He placed soothing kisses on her temple—struggling to restrain himself from going further. If she were his wife, he would carry her to his bed. He would make long, slow, gentle love to her, chasing away the ache in her heart.
But she wasn’t his wife. So he must content himself with chaste kisses on the soft swell of her cheek.
“I hate the idea of going to London and leaving you behind,” he said. “It can’t be helped. Rest assured, I’ll think of you every moment.”
A knock came on the door, and the two stepped apart. Mr. Bennet entered and said, “Lizzy, we must go at once.”
She dried her eyes. “Of course, Papa.” She gave Darcy a silent backwards glance and was gone.
Darcy left the library and was shocked to find that supper was being served. But then, they had a houseful of hungry guests. Sending them away would be the height of incivility. But surely the dancing was done for the evening.
It was a shock to see Caroline playing the consummate hostess. She performed with perfect sangfroid under the circumstances. Louisa at least had the decency to look dazed by the turn of events. But Darcy couldn’t think about that. He went to find Bingley.
He was in the study sitting by the fire, a glass of brandy in his hand. Darcy didn’t speak, just took a chair opposite him and waited.
“I’m not going to talk about it,” Bingley said. “I’m going to drink until I pass out.”
“Of course.” Given the late hour, Darcy suspected the man would fall asleep after his second glass.
“I saw her, Darcy. In the arms of that devil. Can you imagine Jane doing such a thing?”
“I cannot. But I can imagine Wickham taking advantage of her.”
“Either Jane is lying, or Caroline is. Who am I supposed to believe?”
“I know who I believe.”
Bingley shook his head. “Why would Caroline engage in such a deception?”
“Why would Jane?”
“I don’t know.” Bingley’s voice grew taut. “Caroline has watched out for me all my life. I’ve known Jane for little more than two months. How can I take her word over my sister’s?”
“That’s a perfectly rational argument. What does your heart tell you?”
Bingley snorted. “My heart? Why Darcy, you’re the last person I’d expect to resort to that logic.”
“Perhaps your sister wants the best for you, and she believes Miss Bennet is not that person.”
Bingley’s face reddened. “You believe she would stoop to this sort of deception? That she would go so far as to ruin Jane?”
“It’s extreme, I admit.”
Bingley’s eyes glinted at him coldly in the candlelight. “You think so little of my sister?”
Darcy hesitated a moment. “She’s ambitious. Your marriage to a squire’s daughter won’t improve her prospects.”
Bingley poured himself another drink. He downed half of it in silence. At last, he said, “The rest of my life depends on the decision I make right now. And I can’t think straight. The world makes no sense.”
“Things will look clearer in the morning. While you sort it out, I’m going to London to find the maid. Wickham may have enlisted the help of an acquaintance there—to take her in or to find her a place.”
“Perhaps,” Bingley conceded.
“While I’m gone, don’t let your sisters poison your mind. Promise you won’t give up on Miss Bennet yet.”
Bingley’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t think anymore tonight. I am for bed.”
“That sounds like a fine idea,” Darcy said. He made sure his friend got to his room safely and left him in the capable hands of his valet. Then, Darcy called it a night. He had a long day ahead on the morrow.
∞∞∞
Early the next morning, Wickham drew his coat around him against the cold. He met with Caroline in a woodland at the edge of the Netherfield property. He was grateful for the fir trees that shielded them from the wind.
“You delivered as promised.” Wickham spoke in the deep, husky voice he’d cultivated to lower a lady’s defences.
She gave him a sly smile. “Did you doubt me?”
“Not at all. You’re magnificent.” He ran a gloved forefinger down her arm.
She shivered at his touch, but stepped back. “And Minnie? She’s gone?”
“Denny took her to Hertford last night. Put her on a coach to Derbyshire first thing this morning.”
That was a lie. Minnie was in fact on a coach to London. Caroline would not be pleased. Wickham had promised he’d send the maid farther afield, but Minnie had refused. Wickham didn’t care where she ended up, so he hadn’t put up a fight.
“I’ve kept up my end of the bargain,” Caroline said. “Now, let me be.”
Her words were firm, but her eyes devoured him.
“Don’t be so hasty, love.” Wickham stepped closer. “If I can’t persuade Jane to marry me, I’ll need your twenty thousand.”
She shook her head. “Why me? Why not marry some poor girl whose reputation is already ruined?”
“Why would I seek another, when I could bed you every night?” With an arm at her waist, he drew her near. She let out an oof as her soft curves pressed into him.
She spoke in sultry tones. “You would quickly tire of me, and you know it.”
“I haven’t tired of you yet.” He pressed his mouth to hers. At first, she put up a pretty show of resistance. But a contented sigh soon escaped her lips.
And what enticing lips they were, full and ripe. She wasn’t as conventionally beautiful as Jane. But she was pretty, with a wicked gleam in her eye. And the most responsive lover he’d ever known.
Gently, he backed her against a tree. She melted into his embrace. Sliding kisses along her neck, he rucked up her skirts.
They took their pleasure of each other with quick, urgent strokes. As they panted together afterwards, he noted the fullness of her body. Her breasts hadn’t been so plump the last time they were together, he was certain of that.
If she was pregnant, that changed things.
Perhaps she was right—it hardly mattered whom he married, as long as the dowry was large enough. If Caroline could find him some other wealthy woman ruined by scandal, that would suit his purposes.
Then, Caroline would be free to marry Darcy. And if she became his wife whilst carrying Wickham’s son—that would be the best possible revenge.