CHAPTER NINE #2
"Forgive me," he said at once. "I meant that Wickham may be dangerous. I ask that you not go."
"I do not intend to. Papa and Colonel Forster will manage the exchange."
"I shall go with them."
"That decision belongs to you and Georgiana together."
For a moment he said nothing. She had neither softened her answer nor sharpened it to wound him.
"You are right."
At seven, Georgiana came downstairs with Mary. Darcy rose but did not cross the room until his sister moved toward him.
Then she ran.
He caught her against his chest. For a long time he said nothing. Georgiana wept into his coat. His hand trembled where it rested on her hair.
"I am sorry," she whispered.
"No." The word broke. He lowered his forehead to hers. "Never apologize for another man's cruelty. I am sorry you believed you must carry it alone."
She drew back enough to see him. "You will not fight him?"
Darcy's jaw worked.
"If the law fails—"
"William."
He looked toward Sir Thomas, then Elizabeth, and finally back to Georgiana.
"I will follow the plan we agree upon. I will not challenge him."
Relief collapsed her against him again.
The response to Wickham was written in Georgiana's hand because she insisted.
I will pay what you demand. I cannot come to the toll house. My companion will leave the packet beneath the loose stone at the east wall at eleven. The letters must be placed there in return.
Wickham's message had demanded midnight, but Sir Thomas moved the hour to make him react rather than prepare. A stable boy carried the response to a hollow oak along the boundary, the place specified for communications. Colonel Forster's men watched Wickham retrieve it.
Darcy's solicitor was already tracing Mrs Younge through the questionable drafts, though no answer had yet reached Hertfordshire.
By afternoon the magistrate, two constables, Colonel Forster, Colonel Fitzwilliam—newly arrived from London—and Darcy had assembled in Sir Thomas's library.
Lady Bennet ordered food for all of them and then refused to leave until the magistrate explained the charges.
"Attempted extortion, possibly forgery, and unlawful threats," he said. "If the notes he promises are forged in Miss Darcy's name, the matter becomes graver. We must catch him taking the money."
"You will," Lady Bennet said. "He is vain enough to believe every woman frightened of him and foolish enough to believe every father inattentive."
Sir Thomas glanced at her. "An error common in this neighborhood."
She understood the reference to his former self and touched his sleeve.
The packet contained paper cut to the size of banknotes, with real marked notes above and below.
Sir Thomas would place it beneath the stone.
Colonel Forster and the constables would conceal themselves inside the toll house.
Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam would wait beyond the rear wall, far enough that Wickham would not recognize their horses.
"I should make the delivery," Darcy said.
"He expects a servant or companion," Sir Thomas replied. "He may flee if he sees you."
"And you resemble a companion?"
"I resemble a father old enough to be underestimated."
The colonel smiled grimly. "He has you there."
At half past ten, Sir Thomas left Netherfield in a plain dark coat. Elizabeth watched from the portico beside her mother.
"He once ran toward swords," Lady Bennet said. "I had hoped he had exhausted his taste for it."
"Papa has no taste for danger."
"That is what makes it worse. Brave men in stories enjoy themselves. Real ones leave their wives standing in doorways."
Elizabeth took her hand.
Inside, Mary and Georgiana waited near the library fire. Lydia and Kitty had been sent to bed but could be heard moving overhead. Miss Harwood sat in the corridor with a book open and unread.
At the toll house, Sir Thomas placed the packet beneath the loose stone and walked away without haste. He entered the shadow of a copse and waited.
Eleven struck from the Meryton church.
No one came.
Fifteen minutes passed. Then hoofbeats sounded on the western road. A rider approached without a lantern, dismounted, and led his horse behind the ruin.
Wickham waited five minutes more.
He circled the toll house, searched the road, and finally knelt beside the east wall. He lifted the stone, drew out the packet, and opened it.
The constables emerged.
Wickham moved quickly. He struck the first man with the packet, vaulted the low wall, and ran toward his horse.
Darcy stepped from the darkness.
For one instant the two men faced each other.
Wickham stopped. His charm did not disappear; it rearranged itself.
"Darcy. You misunderstand."
"Put down the packet."
"Your sister invited—"
Darcy crossed the distance and seized the front of his coat. Wickham's smile vanished.
Colonel Fitzwilliam caught Darcy's arm. "Your promise."
Darcy's fist was drawn back. He saw Georgiana at breakfast, asking him not to make violence another burden she carried.
Slowly, he lowered it.
Wickham used the hesitation to twist free. He reached for the horse and found Sir Thomas holding the bridle.
"You," Wickham said.
"An attentive father is very inconvenient."
The constables closed around him.
In Wickham's coat they found Georgiana's genuine letters from Ramsgate, two forged additions in imitation of her hand, a list of payments demanded, and a pistol he had not managed to draw. The marked notes remained in his grasp.
Colonel Forster removed his insignia himself.
"You are under arrest."
Wickham looked toward Darcy. "You will not permit a trial. Her name will be spoken in open court."
Darcy went rigid.
Sir Thomas answered. "The forged drafts already under investigation will support charges without naming Miss Darcy publicly. The magistrate has the evidence. Your belief that shame makes women silent has failed you."
For the first time, Wickham looked afraid.
Darcy returned to Netherfield after one in the morning. Georgiana waited in the hall. When she saw his uninjured hands, relief crossed her face.
"It is done," he said. "He cannot reach you."
"You did not fight him."
"I nearly did. Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded me."
"But you stopped."
Darcy nodded.
Georgiana embraced him. Over her shoulder, he saw Elizabeth near the stairs.
Later, after Georgiana had gone to bed with Mary in the adjoining room, Elizabeth found Darcy on the terrace. Dawn had begun to pale the eastern edge of the park.
"Papa says the evidence is sufficient."
"Yes. Wickham will be held for the forged drafts and extortion. The Ramsgate letters can remain sealed unless required."
"Georgiana is free of him."
Darcy looked toward the windows above. "I thought money and secrecy had protected her. They only protected the silence in which he returned."
Elizabeth stood beside him. Their sleeves nearly touched.
"Mary found the letter because Georgiana had begun to trust her," she said. "You helped them meet."
"And then left my sister where Wickham could reach her."
"At Netherfield, with Mrs Annesley and all of us. You cannot become responsible for every evil choice another person makes."
"You once accused me of trying," he said.
"I accused you of making other people's choices. That is different from blaming yourself for them."
The first birds began in the trees.
"At Hunsford," Darcy said, "I told myself your accusations were anger. Then I discovered anger can be accurate."
Elizabeth's breath caught. "And I read your letter and discovered accuracy can coexist with prejudice. I was wrong about Wickham. I enjoyed believing him because it confirmed what I already thought of you."
"Your first judgment of my manners required little assistance from him."
"No."
They almost smiled.
Darcy looked away first. "I meant what I wrote. I will not intrude upon you again."
The promise, once desirable, suddenly felt like loss.
"You are not intruding now."
His gaze returned.
Elizabeth could not offer more—not after one dangerous night, not while gratitude and exhaustion confused every feeling. But she allowed her hand to rest upon the stone balustrade between them, palm open.
Darcy looked at it. He did not take it.
The restraint was its own touch.