Chapter 8
“Your wound looks very well, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Jones informed his patient.
Darcy, who had been breathing heavily through the apothecary’s painful probing of his arm, said, “I am relieved to hear it.”
“Yes, there is no sign of infection, though I am certain it pains you significantly. Would you like me to have a special tincture of laudanum prepared for you?”
Darcy hesitated and then shook his head. “I have some laudanum, which Miss Bingley left for me. I am not inclined to use it, however; I do not care to take the chance of being overly dependent on such medication.”
“That is very wise,” Jones returned with approval.
“All the same, with your permission I will send you a bottle of my own formula, as I recommend that my patients not use other people’s laudanum.
It is vital, as you know, to avoid taking too much.
I would urge you to use my solution if you are in great pain; you must sleep so that your arm heals. ”
“That seems an excellent idea, Mr. Jones. Thank you.”
The door to the east sitting room opened and Bingley’s butler stepped in and announced, “Mr. Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Darcy made as if to stand up but halted when Mr. Bennet waved an imperious hand. “Do not stand, Mr. Darcy, please. I am sure that Mr. Jones agrees you ought to be resting as much as possible.”
“Indeed I do,” Jones agreed. “Now, if there is nothing else, I need to see other patients.”
“Thank you for your care, sir,” Darcy said gratefully.
The apothecary tipped his hat and departed, pulling the door shut behind him, while Elizabeth and her father took seats side by side across from the wounded man.
“Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet said, his face grave, “Elizabeth informed me of your truly heroic actions yesterday when Wickham assaulted her on the northern path of Longbourn. I hope you will accept my gratitude for your most noble efforts on her behalf. I shudder to think what would have happened to my dear daughter if you had not rushed to her aid. Thank you, sir. Thank you.”
Darcy glanced in amazement at Elizabeth, whose dark eyes were solemn. Had they not agreed to keep silent on what had come to pass?
“I am, of course, delighted to be of service, Mr. Bennet,” he said awkwardly.
“It was a most grievous situation, and I can only be thankful that the only one to come to great harm was Mr. Wickham himself. I will add that while I appreciate your gratitude, I believe it would be best if we say as little as possible about yesterday morning’s events. ”
Bennet sighed and said, “I fear that you, at least, will be unable to remain completely silent. Colonel Forster insists that an inquest be held regarding the death of Mr. Wickham. That is why I am here this morning, Mr. Darcy, to discuss how to handle the upcoming investigation.”
Darcy stared at the older man and then switched his attention to Elizabeth. Her face was pale and her eyes full of worry.
“An inquest,” he said numbly. “No, I did not ... I suppose I should have realized that was a possibility, but I confess I did not consider it. That may prove exceedingly complicated.”
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said suddenly, “I know you will never lie under oath, and I would not wish you to do so. I realize...”
She trailed off as her father lifted up his right hand commandingly.
“Now Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy, all is not lost. Mr. Philips, who is my brother by marriage, is the local coroner, and thus he will be overseeing the inquest. With your permission, I will speak to him and encourage him to adjust his questions regarding the attack such that Elizabeth’s presence remains unknown. ”
His daughter and her rescuer grappled with this silently for a minute before Elizabeth said tentatively, “Is that entirely honorable, Father?”
“Honorable? To interfere with an inquest? Probably not, my dear. But it is also not honorable for a militia lieutenant to attack my precious daughter on the grounds of my own estate! I will do everything in my power to protect your reputation, Lizzy, along with your sisters. Whether you are willing to go along with such a plan is, of course, up to you, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy gazed in fascination at Mr. Bennet’s face.
They had met but a few times previously in company and the master of Longbourn, while obviously intelligent, had never seemed to worry much about the antics of his younger daughters and the poor behavior of his wife.
Darcy was surprised, but pleased, to see that Mr. Bennet was righteously angry over his second daughter’s tribulations.
“I will gladly cooperate by confining myself to the questions of the coroner,” he said slowly. “In good conscience, I cannot lie under oath, but I will certainly not mention Miss Elizabeth’s presence unless asked a direct question. For that matter...”
He trailed off and bit his lip before continuing, “I may refuse to answer certain queries. I will not expose my own sister’s name to public gossip and censure.”
Mr. Bennet frowned in confusion at this but Elizabeth sighed and nodded. No doubt she remembered Wickham’s foul remarks about Georgiana.
“Your sister, Mr. Darcy?” the older gentleman asked.
“Yes,” Darcy replied, and blew out a slow breath. “I think it would be best if I shared my history with Mr. Wickham, though I must ask you to keep it in confidence.”
“You have my word, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said gravely.
“And mine as well,” Mr. Bennet added.
Darcy shifted a little to relieve the ache in his arm and gazed at the flames fluttering in the fireplace.
“George Wickham’s father, Mr. Wickham, was an upstanding gentleman who was a solicitor for some years before taking on the role of steward of Pemberley. He married a woman with expensive tastes, so in spite of his good income, he was always teetering on the edge of penury.
“My father esteemed the elder Mr. Wickham greatly and was very attached to his son George, whom he made his godson. The younger Wickham was close to my own age, and he was always charming and engaging, far more than I have ever been. He had free run of Pemberley, and my father delighted in him. When it was time for us to go away to school, my father paid for Wickham’s years at Eton and Cambridge.
“Since I was the same age and saw Wickham in his more casual moments, I knew that he was not the honorable young man that my father believed him to be. He drank to excess, gambled heavily, and did not ... he did not treat the young, female servants well. I tried to tell my father of his favorite’s character, but Mr. Darcy could not see it; my father was fading in those last years, and he and I were on regrettably difficult terms since I was forced to argue with him over some clearly unwise decisions regarding the estate.
When my father finally passed on and I inherited Pemberley, I discovered that my father had included in his will a recommendation of a valuable living for Wickham in the nearby village of Kympton. ”
“Wickham told me of your father’s intentions,” Elizabeth said, “and said you denied him the living. Given his horrendous character, well, I can only be thankful you had the wisdom to deny him a position as a clergyman.”
“Thankfully, I was not called to deny him anything, Miss Elizabeth, as it would have been a difficult decision based on my father’s stated desire in his will.
Wickham approached me shortly after the death of my father and informed me that he had resolved not to obtain holy orders.
He asked for, and I gave him, three thousand pounds to give up all rights to the living.
He said that he intended to study law, but in fact he frittered it all away in the space of three years through gambling and other dissolute behavior. ”
Elizabeth’s mouth fell open as she leaned back in her chair, and even Mr. Bennet looked genuinely shocked.
“The man ran through three thousand pounds in the space of only three years?” he demanded incredulously. “What a fool!”
“In truth, it was four thousand pounds,” Darcy said wearily.
“My father had already set aside one thousand pounds for Wickham in his will. Yes, four thousand pounds, and then when the living fell vacant a year ago, Wickham approached me and insisted that I give it to him! Naturally I said no, most decidedly, and gave the living to an honorable man of my own acquaintance. Wickham was outraged and has subsequently abused me to everyone who would listen.”
Elizabeth, who was never a watering pot, promptly burst into tears, provoking matching looks of horror from both her father and Mr. Darcy.
“Lizzy!”
“Miss Elizabeth!”
“I am sorry,” she blubbered, accepting a handkerchief from her father’s hand.
“I am so sorry. When I think of how foolish I was to believe Wickham’s lies, when I think of my rude words during our dance only two nights ago – I am so ashamed of myself, sir, and can only apologize for my egregious insolence and stupidity. ”
“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy returned, striving to make his voice gentle, “I assure you that I am not angry with you in the least. As I said, Wickham has always had an innate charm, whereas I invariably cause offense. In truth, I rather admired you for your words; while I knew your understanding of the situation to be in error, I respected you for defending the man you considered a friend.”
“Yes, a friend who was in fact...” she trailed off and took in a deep breath, struggling to calm herself. She observed both men gazing at her worriedly, and she managed a shaky smile. “I apologize. I am well enough. Please continue, Mr. Darcy?”