Sixteen #2
Elizabeth reflected for some moments upon all she had heard. It was more absurd than she could have ever imagined.
"Miss Bennet," Darcy said, lowering his voice, "there is one circumstance of which I have not yet spoken. Until now, I had resolved never to disclose it beyond my own family, for it concerns my sister, and her happiness is dearer to me than my own reputation."
Elizabeth turned to him at once, forgetting the path beneath her feet. They came unconsciously to a halt, for the pain in his voice admitted of no inattention.
"I must beg you to receive what I am about to tell you in the strictest confidence. I would not reveal it were it not necessary for you to understand the full extent of Wickham's character."
Elizabeth swallowed. Until now, he had asked for no secrecy beyond that required by the unseen danger which compelled them to conceal their growing friendship. Whatever he was about to disclose must therefore be of the gravest consequence.
"You have my word," she said quietly.
He heaved a sigh, as though weighing how best to express what he was about to say.
"Two summers ago, whilst my sister was staying at Ramsgate, Wickham contrived to renew their acquaintance.
Georgiana was but fifteen, affectionate, inexperienced, and disposed to think well of one she had known in childhood.
" He closed his eyes briefly, as though even the recollection caused him pain.
"With the assistance of her governess, a woman whom he himself had recommended only a year before I dismissed him, he persuaded her to consent to an immediate elopement. "
Elizabeth caught her breath, a gasp escaping from her.
"An elopement?" she whispered.
"It was by sheer chance, and, I must believe, by Providence, that I discovered their design before they could leave for Gretna Green.
I had gone to Ramsgate upon business of an entirely different nature, never imagining I should find Wickham there.
Georgiana, poor child, confessed everything before the scheme could be carried into effect. "
Elizabeth stared at him in horror.
He did it for the sake of her fortune. Of that I have never entertained the slightest doubt," Darcy continued, the bitterness in his voice impossible to conceal. "Had Georgiana possessed neither family nor fortune, I do not believe he would have spared her a second thought."
"But, from all you have told me, he was almost as a brother to her."
"Wickham has never permitted conscience to stand in the way of his advantage. He knew perfectly well what such an elopement would have done to my sister's reputation. That knowledge did not deter him."
Elizabeth shook her head, scarcely able to collect her thoughts. The open, engaging countenance she had first encountered in Meryton now appeared nothing more than a pleasing disguise, concealing selfishness and depravity she could scarcely comprehend.
"I begin to understand why his account troubled me from the first," she said quietly. "It seemed too convenient to be true. Had he invented the whole of it, I think I should have suspected him much sooner."
Darcy released a slow, measured breath, as though the assurance she had given him had lifted a burden he had carried all morning. He regarded her with quiet gratitude.
"I feared you would think I had merely offered another version of the same tale."
"No." She met his gaze steadily. "That conviction arose not only from everything I have learnt of you during these past weeks, but also from my aunt's letter."
"Your aunty Gardiner?"
Elizabeth nodded.
"Yes sir. I wrote to her earlier in our acquaintance, though her reply did not arrive until last Thursday.
She remembered both your parents with the greatest affection.
She described your father as one of the kindest gentlemen she had ever known and remembered you as a remarkably sweet-tempered boy.
Those recollections would not suffer me to believe Mr. Wickham's suggestion that your father had secretly encouraged such conduct. "
For the first time that morning, some of the strain left Darcy's features.
"You cannot know," he said softly, "what comfort you have given me."
They resumed their walk. Though the subject remained a painful one, the exchange had eased something between them.
Elizabeth found herself increasingly disturbed by the deliberate nature of Mr. Wickham's attentions.
He had not merely happened upon her and seized an opportunity to indulge an old resentment.
He had questioned her, discovered what he believed to be her opinion of Mr. Darcy, and then fashioned his account to deepen a prejudice he had every reason to suppose already existed.
Who, after all, was more likely to receive such a tale with ready credence than the lady whom Mr. Darcy had so publicly slighted at the Meryton assembly?
"I believe he intended me to repeat his account to others," she said at length, breaking the silence.
"He spoke as though reluctant to disclose it, yet every expression of reluctance seemed calculated to invite another question.
Had he truly desired not to besmirch you and your family, as he claimed, he need only have remained silent. "
Darcy's mouth curved without amusement.
"I should not be surprised. During the past two years I have heard several versions of Wickham's falsehoods, each adapted to the company in which he found himself."
"Then he chose his audience very ill," Elizabeth replied. "Had he wished his tale to spread, he ought to have entrusted it to a greater gossip than myself."
Despite himself, Darcy laughed. The sound was brief, but genuine, and Elizabeth was glad to have drawn it from him.