Chapter 12 #2
A humourless laugh escaped him. “You know already.”
“Conform it, then, sir,” Darcy demanded.
“Wickham,” Denny said bluntly. “George Wickham.”
A sickening mixture of vindication and disgust churned in Elizabeth’s stomach.
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “Why? To what end does he seek to destroy the reputations of the Bennets?”
Denny shrugged, attempting bravado that rang hollow. “Revenge. Profit. A bit of both.”
“Explain yourself,” said Mrs Gardiner, her voice devoid of her usual geniality. Now that the rogue had confessed, she had no qualms in making her ill-feelings known.
Denny glanced at the printer’s door, then back at them. “Wickham had a grievance. He said Darcy had ruined his prospects, kept him short of money, and blocked every opportunity that might have set him up comfortably. He wanted to strike back.”
“And you agreed to help him?” Elizabeth asked.
“I needed funds of my own,” Denny replied. “An officer’s pay does not stretch far. Wickham promised a fortune, or at least enough to make it worth lying to secure leave.”
Darcy’s expression was thunderous. “A fortune for lies.”
“For influence and pressure,” Denny corrected.
Elizabeth folded her arms. “And what, precisely, were you meant to accomplish?”
He hesitated, eyeing Darcy’s dark expression and the clench of his jaw. He fiddled nervously with the packet of papers. “Wickham believed you would pay handsomely to stop certain rumours, sir.”
“About Georgiana,” Elizabeth said.
Denny nodded. “He said Darcy would do anything to keep his sister’s name clean. Anything to avoid a scandal touching her.”
“And of Jane and myself?” Elizabeth pressed. “Why target us?”
Denny smirked. “One set of rumours for money, and one set for fun. Old Dignified Darcy would hate having his name and his friend’s attached to a couple of fortune-hunters, if you’ll pardon the expression.
Not to mention to a woman Darcy told everyone he thought merely tolerable. How Wickham laughed to think of it!”
Elizabeth’s hands curled into fists. “So my family was merely a weapon.”
“Wickham said Darcy would hate being tied, even by gossip, to a family of no consequence,” Denny went on with cruel candour. “He said it would wound his pride more deeply than anything else.”
The insult struck hard, but Elizabeth saw Darcy flinch as if struck by a physical blow.
“Wickham swore Darcy would pay to end it,” Denny finished.
Elizabeth looked at Darcy. His expression was a storm of fury, shame, and regret. “So this scheme was never about truth. Only about money and malice,” she said. And one authored by George Wickham, of all men. What villainy hid behind that handsome face and those excellent manners!
“Wickham is not a man much troubled by scruples. He promised I would be pardoned for taking this leave, that he would see to it.” Denny replied with a shrug. “He thought Darcy would fold.”
Darcy stepped forward, his voice icy with fury. “He misjudged me.”
Denny swallowed. “Perhaps.”
Mrs Gardiner spoke calmly, sensing the tension brewing like a storm. “You will give us a full account of your dealings with Mr Wickham. Every payment, every instruction, every rumour you delivered.”
“And if I refuse?” Denny asked warily.
Mr Darcy met his gaze unflinchingly. “Then we will inform your commanding officers, the printer, and every respectable person in London exactly how you have earned your coin.”
Denny frowned and looked once more between their party and the printer’s door, as though he considered running even then, though he must have known it would be futile. At last, he let out a breath and nodded. “You will have it,”
Elizabeth felt a tremor of relief run through her. The shadow that had haunted her family for weeks had, at last, taken shape. Yet beneath the triumph stirred something darker: the knowledge that Wickham’s malice had been deeper, more calculated, and more personal than she could have believed.
“Miss Bennet. Mrs Gardiner. Please use my carriage to see yourselves home. I shall finish here with Mr Denny, and see that this business is concluded.”
He turned to face Denny, pointing a finger at his chest. “You will walk with me to the carriage, then accompany me to my lodgings. Any attempt to run or flee will only make things worse, sir.”
Denny threw up his hands in submission. “I see I am defeated, sir. I shall comply.”
Darcy gestured to Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner. They walked in silence back to their carriage. Mr Darcy helped Mrs Gardiner inside, then Elizabeth.
Elizabeth did not immediately release her hand from his. She bent forward and imbued all her relief and gratitude into her speech. “Thank you, Mr Darcy.”
His expression softened, and he nodded.
Elizabeth realised her hand still grasped his, and she quickly released him.
Darcy spoke softly into the carriage before closing the door. “Mr Denny will, no doubt, find that taking leave under false pretences is a serious matter. He will pay for his crimes. I shall call on you when the matter is finished.”
“You are welcome anytime, Mr Darcy. Thank you for all you have done for our family,” Mrs Gardiner said warmly.
Darcy closed the door, and the carriage lurched into motion. Elizabeth fell back against the seat, suddenly weary from their confrontation. The past weeks of scheming and chasing rumours across London had been exhausting. Tonight, they had at last found the man responsible for all their suffering.
Now, Elizabeth had to trust that Mr Darcy would see this business finished once and for all.
Weeks ago, she might have found it difficult to entrust him with such a responsibility.
The fate of her family was best left in her own hands.
But, in spite of herself and of her determination to dislike Mr Darcy forever, she found she had grown fond of him.
It was a dizzying thought. As the carriage rolled towards Gracechurch Street, a more alarming thought struck her. Now that their scheme had come to an end, where did that leave her and Mr Darcy?