Chapter 51 The Snare
Darcy sat at the writing desk in Netherfield’s library attending to his morning correspondence when he discovered one written in Kendall’s hand.
Darcy set the other correspondence aside and broke the seal.
His solicitor reported that the remaining accounts from Meryton had been verified and assigned.
Together with the obligations Darcy already held, there was now more than sufficient debt to proceed against Wickham.
Kendall had begun the necessary action and expected to have the process in hand shortly.
Darcy read the letter again before looking up.
Caroline was sitting on the sofa opposite him with an embroidery frame upon her lap. He had been unaware that she had entered the library.
“Good morning, Mr. Darcy. I began to think I should have to introduce myself. You were so deeply occupied that you did not hear me come in or greet you.”
“I beg your pardon, Miss Bingley. I did not mean to be discourteous.”
“You were attending to your correspondence, sir. There is nothing to forgive.”
Darcy thanked her and returned to Kendall's letter. Caroline lowered her eyes to her embroidery without attempting to draw him into further conversation.
After considering Kendall's report, Darcy took out a fresh sheet of paper and began his reply.
* * *
Later that morning, Wickham entered a hatter's shop in Meryton and asked to see a pair of gloves.
He was examining the leather when the proprietor's wife, who was assisting another customer, lowered her voice.
“That is the gentleman whose account was sold.”
The man glanced toward Wickham. “Sold? Who purchases another man's debt? I have difficulty paying my own accounts, without purchasing someone else's.”
“I cannot tell you. A fine gentleman came down from London and made inquiries about the account. He was acting for someone else, but he would not say whom.”
“Then whoever employs him must have money to waste.”
“I do not know the ways of the gentry.”
Wickham kept his attention on the gloves, although he was no longer considering their purchase. When he finally looked toward the pair, both were watching him.
He placed the gloves on the counter. “I believe I shall leave them.”
Wickham left the shop and continued down the street while Peter and Robert Miller watched him from nearby establishments.
He went directly to the only inn at Meryton. Peter Miller followed and entered by a back door.
Wickham approached the innkeeper. “I require transportation to St Albans tomorrow afternoon, in time to catch a coach to London.”
“We have a conveyance leaving at four, sir. It will set you down near the coaching inns. If you wish to reserve a place, I shall require payment now.”
Wickham counted out the money. “Then reserve it for me.”
“Be here a quarter of an hour before four. We will not wait for a late passenger.”
Wickham left the inn, and Peter emerged a few minutes later to find Robert waiting farther down the street.
“He has paid for a place on the four o'clock conveyance to St Albans tomorrow,” Peter told him. “From there he means to take a coach to London. Ride to Netherfield and tell Mr. Darcy yourself. I shall stay with Wickham.”
Robert left for the stable while Peter resumed his pursuit.
Wickham entered a tavern and ordered his luncheon. He had scarcely settled himself when another militia officer approached his table.
“Wickham, where have you been? You told me a fortnight ago that you would settle your gaming debt when we received our pay. We were paid yesterday, and I expect my money today.”
Wickham reached into his pocket and placed a guinea on the table. “I cannot give you the whole of it today. I have an obligation to my mother which must be met first, but give me another week, and you shall have the rest.”
The officer looked at the coin. “You promised payment yesterday.”
“I owe some loyalty to my mother. You will be paid.”
The officer took the guinea. “You have one more week, Wickham. I shall not ask again.”
After he had gone, Wickham waited for his luncheon, frowning.
* * *
Robert Miller was shown into the library at Netherfield shortly after one o’clock.
Caroline was still there, although she had exchanged her embroidery for a book. When Robert entered, Darcy rose immediately.
“Mr. Miller has come to see me on business, Miss Bingley.”
Caroline closed her book. “Of course. I shall leave you to it.”
She gathered her embroidery and book and left the library.
Once the door had closed, Robert said, “Lieutenant Wickham is preparing to leave Meryton, sir. He paid for a place on a conveyance leaving for St Albans tomorrow afternoon at four.”
“Where is Peter?”
“He remained in Meryton to keep watch on Wickham. Neither of us has seen any indication that “Wickham knows he is being followed, but people are beginning to talk about the purchased debts. He went into a hatter’s shop. We could not hear what was said inside, but the proprietress pointed him out to another customer. Wickham came out frowning without having purchased anything and went directly to the inn afterward.”
“That is unfortunate.”
Darcy drew a sheet of paper toward him, wrote a quick note, and handed it to Robert. “Take this to Colonel Forster.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Send word immediately if it appears he means to fly.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
As soon as Robert had gone, Darcy rang for a servant.
“I require a man and a fresh horse immediately. He is to carry an express to my solicitor in London.”
The servant left to make the arrangements, and Darcy returned to the desk to begin another letter.
* * *
At eleven the following morning, Lieutenant Wickham presented himself at Colonel Forster's office.
He had received the colonel's order the previous afternoon and had spent the evening attempting to discover why he had been summoned. Forster had given him no reason, and Wickham could think of nothing that required his presence before he left the regiment.
He entered the office expecting to find the colonel alone.
Two men he did not recognize stood near the window.
“Colonel. You sent for me?”
“I did. Come in, Wickham.”
Wickham entered, his attention returned to the strangers.
Forster indicated them. “These gentlemen have business with you.”
One of the men stepped forward. “Lieutenant George Wickham?”
“Yes.”
The man produced the papers he carried. “I have process against you at the suit of Fitzwilliam Darcy, Esquire, for debt.”
For several seconds Wickham did not move.
“Darcy?”
“Fitzwilliam Darcy, Esquire.”
The color left Wickham's face. He reached for the back of a straight-backed chair and held it while the officer continued.
“The debts named in these proceedings are now held by Mr. Darcy. You are required to come with us.”
“There must be some mistake.”
“There is no mistake, sir.”
Wickham looked at Forster. “Colonel, I ask that you delay this until Darcy can be sent for. He and I have known one another since childhood. I am certain the matter can be settled between us if you will only allow me to speak with him.”
Forster regarded him without sympathy. “This is a civil matter, Wickham. I have no authority to interfere with lawful process.”
“I am not asking you to interfere, Colonel. Send a man to Netherfield. Darcy is there. Give me an hour with him.”
“I shall do no such thing.”
Wickham released the chair and faced the officers. “What amount does he claim?”
The officer named the sum.
Wickham stared at him. “That is impossible.”
“The accounts accompany the process.”
“I do not owe Darcy that amount.”
“The creditors named here assigned their debts to him.”
Understanding came slowly across Wickham's face.
“Creditors? Darcy has purchased my debts?” Wickham looked again at Forster. “Colonel, you cannot mean to allow them to take an officer of your regiment away without giving him an opportunity to answer for himself.”
“You will have the opportunity to answer through the proper proceedings. I will not prevent these men from doing their duty, nor do I wish to retain an officer who brings disgrace upon his regiment.”
One of the officers stepped beside Wickham. “You must come with us, sir.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“You will be taken into custody under the process against you and conveyed to London.”
Wickham's eyes moved toward the door.
Forster saw it.
“So that you understand your position completely, Wickham, I received word yesterday that you had purchased passage to St Albans for four o'clock this afternoon.”
Wickham looked at him.
“I do not know what you intended,” Forster continued, “and I have no need to ask. You were ordered to report here this morning, and you did so. What occurs now is between you and the officers executing the process.”
Wickham's expression changed. “You had me watched?” He stepped back from the men.
“Send for Darcy, Colonel, I beg you. This is a misunderstanding. If you will only send for him, we can work this out.”
Forster made no move, but nodded to the men.
The officer took Wickham by the arm. “Come along, sir.”
Wickham resisted only long enough to look once more at Forster, but the colonel offered him nothing.
The two officers escorted him from the room.
Peter and Robert Miller waited outside.
Neither spoke as Wickham was brought past them and taken to the waiting carriage. Wickham glanced at the brothers without recognition before an officer directed him inside.
The door closed behind him.
Peter watched the carriage pull away, then looked at his brother.
“Our work is done here. Mr. Darcy will want to know Wickham has been taken into custody. Let us go.”
* * *
Darcy was shown into Mr. Bennet's library at Longbourn later that afternoon.
Thomas Bennet closed the book he had been reading. “You have news, Darcy?”
“I received word from Colonel Forster that the officers took George Wickham into custody at eleven this morning. We came very near losing him, sir. He had already arranged passage to St Albans for four this afternoon and intended to continue from there to London.”
“Then I am grateful your men were watching him.”
“Yes, sir. The debt proceedings should prevent him from approaching Lydia for the present, but I do not consider the matter finished. My investigators are still examining his past. If they uncover evidence of a serious crime, I intend to place it before the proper authorities and see that it is prosecuted.”
Mr. Bennet regarded him across the desk. “You do not intend to give Wickham another opportunity to begin elsewhere.”
“No, sir.”
A knock sounded at the library door.
Mr. Bennet's expression changed immediately.
“I would lay a wager, Mr. Darcy, that Lizzy is standing on the other side of that door.”
Darcy laughed. “I shall not take the wager, sir. I am equally certain of it.”
“Enter.”
The door opened, and Elizabeth entered.
She looked first at her father and then at Mr. Darcy. “You have news of Wickham, sir?”
Both gentlemen laughed.
Color rose in Elizabeth's cheeks, but she waited for an answer.
Darcy rose. “The officers took him into custody at eleven this morning, Miss Elizabeth. He is now being conveyed toward London.”
“Then Lydia is safe from him.”
“For the present, yes. I intend to make certain he cannot trouble her again.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth curtsied to him, glanced at her father, and left.
Mr. Bennet looked at Darcy.
“I believe we might both have won that wager.”
Darcy smiled. “Yes, sir.”