Chapter 8 #2
Darcy grimaced and said, “I wish I could forget what came to pass next. My sister Georgiana is more than ten years younger than I am. She was in school until she turned fifteen, whereupon an establishment was set up for her in London, with Mrs. Younge, a paid companion, looking after her. A few months ago, Mrs. Younge requested that I permit Georgiana to visit Ramsgate in her care, and I agreed. Wickham followed them there, as he was acquainted with Mrs. Younge, about whose character we were most painfully deceived. Georgiana had very fond memories of Wickham from her girlhood, and with the connivance of Mrs. Younge, was convinced to believe herself in love with Wickham and to consent to an elopement.”
He found himself staring into Miss Elizabeth’s lovely face. Her eyes were tender with sympathy and her expression was not of shock but of compassion.
“I am so very sorry,” she said gently. “I can well understand how a young girl could be so deceived by such an attractive knave. I presume from Wickham’s words during your altercation yesterday that she was not ... not harmed?”
“Yes. By God’s grace, my business in London took less time than expected, and I decided to visit my sister unexpectedly.
I found Wickham, very much at home, in the parlor of the rented house where Mrs. Younge and my sister were staying, and Georgiana incandescent with joy that she was soon to be united in marriage with her love.
I naturally threw Wickham into the street and discharged Mrs. Younge as well. I ... I should have done more, but...”
“But you had Miss Darcy’s reputation to consider,” Elizabeth said. “I understand completely. Was she much distressed?”
“She was devastated,” Darcy admitted, wiping the tears away in his eyes.
He was astonished at his own reaction; he had not cried in many years, but Miss Elizabeth looked so sympathetic, so tender.
“She is a gentle soul, my sister, and very shy, and this experience made her question herself all the more. She is now in London with another, better companion, and living with her Matlock relations; my aunt, Lady Matlock, is a cheerful soul and most encouraging.”
“It sounds like it was a most difficult summer,” Elizabeth murmured, looking at the gentleman with new eyes.
“It was horrible,” Darcy admitted.
“Well, I daresay we can forgive you for insulting Lizzy at the Meryton Assembly, then,” Bennet commented with a wry twinkle in his eye. “You had every excuse for being in a foul mood.”
Darcy felt as if he had taken an unexpected upper cut to the jaw. “Insult Miss Elizabeth? What are you referring to?”
Elizabeth cast a reproachful look at her father and quoted, “She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”
A moment later, she allowed herself a reluctant giggle as Mr. Darcy collapsed weakly against the back of his chair.
“Now do not distress yourself, Mr. Darcy,” she ordered. “You were clearly not in a good humor that night.”
“I had no idea you heard that,” Darcy replied, his expression an odd mix of embarrassment and horror.
“No idea at all. I dislike dancing with women I do not know, and I was trying to put Bingley off. It was a complete and utter lie, Miss Elizabeth. You are, well, you must know that you are an extremely handsome woman.”
“Compared to Jane, I am not,” Elizabeth returned with amusement.
“Now Mr. Darcy, I think we can accept that at one time or another in our relationship, we both behaved badly. I hope you will forgive me for my insolent words, and I certainly am most grateful for your noble actions yesterday morning when you saved me from...”
She trailed off and swallowed convulsively. Darcy made a quick movement toward her with his right hand and then drew back. “If you will thank me, please allow me thank you as well. When you struck Wickham with that tree branch, you may well have saved my life.”
“I could not let a knife wielding madman attack the man who so bravely protected me,” Elizabeth responded earnestly, staring into Darcy’s dark brown eyes.
She suddenly found her heart beating faster as Darcy leaned forward, his expression warm with ... what was that? Admiration? Affection? He really was an incredibly handsome man, Mr. Darcy. Still, she knew that he did not truly esteem her, of course.
Mr. Bennet cleared his throat, and the two young people jumped a little and turned toward the older man.
“I believe you both acted with courage and significant presence of mind,” he commented, though his own mind was working busily.
He had never seen Elizabeth so affected by a gentleman before.
“Now sir, do I have permission to share some of your history with Mr. Wickham with my brother, Mr. Philips? I will not mention anything regarding Miss Darcy, of course, but his history of slandering you, of womanizing and gambling will help us protect Elizabeth and our good name.”
“He also runs up debts,” Darcy said sourly.
“I am certain he owes money to every merchant and tavern keeper in Meryton and her environs. He left countless debts in Lambton and near Pemberley, and I paid them off. He traded on his connection to the Darcys, you see, and then ran off without settling his bills.”
“Do you have those receipts?” Elizabeth asked shrewdly, “along with his agreement to accept three thousand pounds in lieu of the Kympton living?”
Darcy regarded her thoughtfully. “I have the legal agreement regarding the living at Darcy House because it was drawn up in London, but the debt receipts are at Pemberley.”
Elizabeth looked at her father, who said, “It would be wise to send for that agreement, Mr. Darcy.”
“Why?”
“Mr. Wickham was very well liked,” Elizabeth explained, “and most regrettably, I passed on your negative remarks concerning my person at the Meryton assembly. Many people do not like you, and that is my fault.”
Darcy shook his head. “No, it is my fault. I should never have made such a rude, and obviously untrue, statement about a lady. I know I am not particularly personable, and Wickham is ... was, exceptionally charismatic and appealing, despite being in truth a snake. Your suggestion is very wise; I will send an express to London within the hour and have one of my men bring the document regarding the living.”
“And I, with your permission,” Bennet said, “will speak to Mr. Philips and will investigate Mr. Wickham’s debts in the regiment.”
“Thank you, I am most grateful. Would you be willing to ascertain whether he has also run up debts at the local shops? If so, will you purchase Wickham’s debts with the promise that I will pay you for them?”
Bennet looked startled. “That is hardly necessary, sir. It is not your responsibility to pay Wickham’s accounts!”
“Not legally, no, but morally, yes,” Darcy contended.
“My father made Wickham what he was – not his vicious, grasping nature, but Mr. Darcy provided for the education which allowed Wickham to present himself as a gentleman. You know that merchants and tavern keepers are obliged by societal expectation to allow members of the gentry to charge their purchases. For me, one hundred pounds is trifling; for the men and women of Meryton, even a few pounds can be of great importance.”
“Mr. Wickham only joined the militia two weeks ago,” Elizabeth protested. “It is unlikely he has run up any debts.”
Darcy sighed and said, “I would not be too certain of that. He has a habit of purchasing items on account for prospective para...”
He trailed off and Mr. Bennet finished for him, “Paramours. I see. Where else might he already owe substantial sums?”
“The local tavern, most definitely, and anywhere that he can purchase alcohol. He will also owe debts of honor to his fellow militia officers, but that is not my concern.”
“I will investigate in Meryton,” Bennet promised, just as the sound of a familiar male voice penetrated from the outside hall.
The door opened abruptly, and Mr. Bingley, clearly worried, strode in and demanded, “Darcy, how badly are you injured?”