Chapter 13

Colonel Forster’s Office

“Mr. Wickham, sir,” Jenkins said to Colonel Forster and stepped aside to allow the lieutenant to enter. Wickham did so with a respectful expression and the slightest bit of swagger, which quickly gave way to perturbation as he recognized the two men seated across the desk from his commanding officer.

“Darcy, what are you doing here?” he demanded.

Colonel Forster cleared his throat loudly, and Wickham turned immediately and saluted. “My apologies, sir. You called for me?”

“I have,” Forster said grimly and gestured at a chair set next to his desk. “Take that seat, lieutenant.”

Wickham did so, rather uncomfortably. He would prefer to be on the other side of the desk, farther from Darcy, but naturally he could not say so. He blew out a breath and folded his gloved hands, his heart hammering. He was quite adept at reading people, and Forster looked displeased.

“Mr. Darcy has made some serious allegations against you, Lieutenant Wickham,” Forster said. “He tells me that you are in the habit of running up debts with shopkeepers and publican owners and then departing without paying. Is this correct?”

Wickham forced himself to relax his posture and produce a winsome smile. “Colonel, I fear that Mr. Darcy and I have been on poor terms for some time, and while I do not wish to accuse him of pernicious harassment…”

“Is it true?” Forster interrupted coldly.

“Certainly not.”

Forster took a deep breath, blew it out, and then looked down at the pile of papers on his desk. “Mr. Darcy brought along proof, in the form of two hundred and eighty pounds worth of debt receipts from numerous establishments in the village of Lambton near Pemberley.”

Wickham forced himself not to wince openly and shifted tactics. “Very well, sir, it is true that I purchased some necessary items from the good people of Lambton and was unable to pay those debts, but that was not my fault. Darcy’s father, my godfather, promised me an excellent church living in Kympton, in Derbyshire, but Darcy refused to grant me the living!”

Forster looked down again at this desk, shifted a few papers, and lifted an unpleasantly familiar document. “This would be the living that you gave up all rights to in exchange for three thousand pounds, I presume?”

Wickham, who had avoided even looking at Darcy, now turned furious eyes on the master of Pemberley. “I confess that I am surprised at this attack, Darcy, given that only a few months ago, I…”

“Do not speak another word , Wickham,” Darcy interrupted, leaning closer, his eyes blazing in anger, “or I will not even give you the option of avoiding Marshalsea!”

Wickham’s breath seized in his throat, and he found himself goggling in confusion. “What?”

“Marshalsea, Wickham,” Darcy replied. “Marshalsea, where debtors are confined until they can repay their debts. Given that you have no family to assist you and have proven yourself a traitorous and useless friend, you will never be able to pay off those debts. Never.”

Wickham stared, his eyes wide, his breath coming quickly. “You cannot be serious.”

Darcy leaned back in his chair and responded in a calm tone, “I am entirely serious. You have slandered me regarding the Kympton living, you harassed my dear sister, and you have ruined numerous maidens over the years. I was inclined to ignore your presence in Meryton because I am so very tired of dealing with you, but Bingley correctly made the case that it is the duty of a gentleman to protect innocents from a snake. Thus…”

“You would not send me to Marshalsea!” Wickham cried out. “Think of your father! He would never wish for such a thing!”

“He would not, it is true, but I am not inclined to consider his wishes now. He joined my mother in paradise many years ago, and in any case, he could never see you for what you are – a liar, a manipulator, and a scoundrel!”

“I will pay it all back, I promise!” Wickham said, his former calm giving way to near hysteria. “I promise!”

“You cannot, and even if you could, you would not,” Darcy replied, looking disdainfully on the cringing man staring at him with horrified eyes. “You have always been a slave to your desires, and every time you obtain funds, you spend them on gambling, women, food, and luxuries. But do not fear; Marshalsea is not my first choice for your future. I would prefer that you do something useful with your life and go to sea.”

Wickham stared in open perplexity. “Go to sea? What do you mean?”

“I have arranged for you to take a position on the naval ship Guisborough , under the command of a family friend, Captain Donovan. He has agreed to take you on as a raw recruit…”

“You must be mad! I am the godson of George Darcy! You cannot imagine that I would serve as a mere sailor!”

“I quite agree that you will be more or less useless as a sailor in the early days,” Darcy responded drily, “but you are clever enough, and I trust that you will learn quickly what you need to do. At sea, you will be motivated to use your intelligence well; either that or you will face the cat o’ nine tails for failing to do your duty.”

Wickham shook his head so quickly that his neck hurt. “I will not.”

“Very well, then it will be Marshalsea.”

Wickham’s heart beat rapidly, and his vision, for a moment, swam. “Darcy, do not…you cannot do this. Colonel Forster! I am a member of your company…”

“You no longer are,” Forster interrupted in an arctic tone. “I am well aware that you have been slandering Mr. Darcy to your fellow officers and the people of Meryton. I will not have a dishonest man in my regiment, or one who runs up debts and ruins girls without a shred of remorse.”

Wickham stared in dismay, his thoughts tumultuous, his body shaking. How could this be happening?

“We will give you until tomorrow morning to make your final decision,” Darcy said, standing up, and Bingley stood up with him. “Colonel, I trust you will make certain that Wickham does not run away during the night.”

“He will be locked up under guard,” Forster promised, also standing up. “Mr. Darcy, my apologies again for permitting such a man in my company.”

“I assure you that I do not blame you in the least. Mr. Wickham has all the appearance of goodness and has successfully hidden his depravity from men who knew him far better than you.”

The colonel nodded, gestured towards two nearby privates, and ordered, “Lock Wickham up.”

“Yes sir!” they chorused and surged forward to grasp Wickham by both arms. He was too shocked and dismayed and confused to do much more than protest weakly. Within a very short time, he found himself locked in a small room in the middle of the house, with only a simple cot, a water jug, and a chamber pot to keep him company. How could this be happening to him?

/

Dining Room

Netherfield

The late evening sun suffused the dining room through the tall western windows, gilding the white china and setting the polished wood of the table aglow like honey, long shadows stretching out away from the dishes. Elizabeth basked in the light, dreamily chewing on a most excellent slice of pheasant. She was tired, but pleasingly so; it had been a most productive day. With all five Bennet sisters, as well as Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley, working as hard as they could, the crates for Boxing Day had been almost entirely completed.

Elizabeth thoughtfully regarded her two younger sisters, who were sitting close together and murmuring to each other. It had been a great surprise when they had announced their intentions of helping pack the boxes. It had been an even greater one when they had worked industriously the entire day, since they were usually selfish and focused on their own pleasures.

Elizabeth was grateful for their assistance – certainly there would have been less progress without their energetic help – but she could not help having a certain amount of suspicion, too. She did not know their motive for helping, but considering how self-interested both always were, she would observe them both closely.

Beside her, Miss Darcy glanced up with a tiny uncertain smile. “Miss Elizabeth, would you please pass me the peas?” she asked softly.

Elizabeth smiled back warmly, reaching for the dish and moving it to its new place. “Yes, of course,” she replied, and considered Georgiana next. Here was another person whom Wickham had cruelly slandered. Miss Darcy was not at all proud; she was, in fact, a very sweet and shy young lady, along with being a pretty one. At the moment, the sunlight was making her flaxen hair glow, turning it into a delicate halo that framed her face like a flower.

Caroline Bingley sat in the shade at the far end of the table, foot propped up and expression sour. Mercifully she was speaking very little, only offering the occasional waspish comment to Louisa Hurst, who was sitting beside her. Mr. Hurst, on his wife’s other side, was ignoring everything except his heaped-high plate. Mrs. Annesley, on Miss Darcy’s other side, was conversing quietly with Mary.

Elizabeth served herself another piece of pheasant. It truly was excellent, as were all the dishes on the table. She preferred the plainer fare that had been served for dinner today as opposed to the elaborate dishes commonly served when there were visitors at Longbourn. Elizabeth was aware that Jane had previously drawn Mrs. Nicholls aside for a quiet word.

“You can tell Cook that a simpler meal tonight will be perfectly adequate,” Jane had said. “From now on, I do not think it will be necessary to show off the extent of her skills for every mere family dinner.”

Elizabeth smiled to herself; her sister was already proving herself an excellent mistress for Netherfield and her inhabitants.

“Is Pemberley very large?” Jane asked Georgiana, drawing Elizabeth’s attention.

Caroline Bingley, who had been silently eating her mashed potatoes, lifted her head and said brightly, “Oh, my dear Jane, very large indeed! Such a vast, impressive estate, and the mansion itself; well, compared to Pemberley, Longbourn is little more than a shack!”

Georgiana cringed at these words, and Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed, but at this opportune moment, the door opened and Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley entered, both still dressed in their day clothes, bringing a blast of cool air from the hall with them.

“Charles!” Jane cried out, rising to her feet and hurrying over to take his hands in her own. “I hope your business went well?”

“Very well indeed,” Charles replied, gazing down at her raptly. “I do apologize for being late.”

“And for coming in without changing for dinner,” Darcy said uncomfortably. “Perhaps we should go upstairs, Bingley…”

“Nonsense, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley interrupted, her lips curved into an inviting smile. “We are all among friends, are we not? Pray do sit down, both of you, and enjoy your meal!”

Darcy still looked uneasy, and Jane said, “Indeed, Mr. Darcy, please do sit down.”

“Thank you,” he replied, and took his seat next to his sister, who smiled happily at him.

Darcy waited until a servant had poured his wine before serving himself from the platter of pheasant in front of him. “How was your day, ladies?”

“It was quite a busy day,” Caroline said drily. “For reasons that I still have not determined, it was apparently necessary to choke the drawing room with rough crates and fill them with rugs and foodstuffs for the farmers and their families. Of course, I do not pretend to be the daughter of a great estate, but I think it a most unusual procedure for the future lady of this house.”

Jane flushed a little, and Charles shot his sister an angry look, but Darcy merely said, “I do not think it matters where the work is done, so long as it is done. Willingness to sacrifice one’s own time and talents for the benefit of others is to be admired. Miss Bennet, I have no doubt that you will be a remarkable mistress of Netherfield.”

“Thank you,” Jane said, relaxing noticeably, as Caroline turned a bright shade of red.

/

In the Bennet Carriage

Driving Back to Longbourn

Elizabeth leaned against the side of the coach and looked out the window. The colors of sunset drifted into the twilight as paler, dustier versions of themselves. The horizon was brushed a delicate mauve, fading into a soft periwinkle and then into a deeper cerulean above. A glowing half-moon rode placidly in the evening sky, gazing benevolently down on the earth below.

It was a lovely view and matched Elizabeth’s serene mood delightfully well. Though the gentlemen could not speak openly at dinner, Bingley’s usual good cheer had been entirely unimpaired, and Darcy had seemed quietly satisfied. Both men would have shown some perturbation if their meeting with Wickham had not gone well, and she rested confident in the knowledge that the miscreant would soon be dealt with once and for all.

The men had not lingered over their port but a few minutes, choosing instead to quickly join the ladies in the drawing room after dinner. Jane and Bingley had spoken of the boxes prepared that day, with occasional cutting comments from Caroline. Despite Miss Bingley’s snide attitude, Charles had maintained a cheerful and an open-handed generosity as he consulted with his fiancée about their gifts to their dependents, and Elizabeth approved wholeheartedly.

“Thank you for your help, all of you,” Jane remarked, drawing Elizabeth’s attention. “We worked very hard today.”

“We did,” Lydia noted with a grimace. “I am glad that Kitty warned me to wear an older gown today as I spilled something and my sleeve is stained. I would have been terribly upset if a newer garment had been spotted.”

“That was wise of you,” Elizabeth agreed, eying her youngest sister suspiciously. She was still puzzled as to why Lydia and Kitty had chosen to join the older Bennet sisters at Netherfield instead of walking to Meryton to flirt with officers.

“Thank you,” Lydia said. “I do hope that Mr. Darcy and Charles were impressed with our exhausting work.”

“Why do you care what Mr. Darcy thinks?” Mary demanded.

Lydia snorted and said, “You do not imagine that Kitty and I assisted today because we enjoyed it, do you? We are wishful of finding wealthy husbands, and Mr. Darcy is rich and nephew of an earl.”

Jane and Elizabeth exchanged shocked glances, and Jane said, “Are you desirous of marrying Mr. Darcy, Lydia?”

Lydia huffed in exasperation. “Of course not! He is too old, along with being far too stiff and serious for me. I wish for a jolly husband who loves dancing and living in Town. But I am certain that either Charles or Mr. Darcy is acquainted with the perfect man for my tastes, and thus I am acting as the sort of lady who cares about tenant farmers.”

Mary’s brow had been lowering throughout this recital and she said, “You should do the right thing because it is right, not because you wish to gain something!”

“Oh, do leave me alone, Mary; it is hard enough that I have given up the idea of wedding an officer. I still love a man in a red coat, but Kitty is right, the young, handsome ones are too poor to take a lady for a wife. I hope you are not planning to marry Mr. Wickham, Lizzy; he is handsome and charming, but has no money to speak of.”

Elizabeth, who would gladly throw Mr. Wickham into an icy lake if she could manage it, merely said, “I have no interest in marrying Mr. Wickham. As you said, he cannot support a wife.”

“I still think that it is wrong to act only because you wish to benefit from it,” Mary said indignantly.

“The work had to be done, did it not?” Lydia asked carelessly. “Why does it matter why I helped if I do help?”

Jane said peaceably, “You all did assist, and very well. Moreover, if you marry a man with an estate, it will be useful to know how to care for the tenants.”

“I quite enjoyed it,” Kitty remarked. “It was fun to pack the various items for each family. Many of the Netherfield tenants have small children, and I liked that Charles was willing to pay for a few toys for the little ones.”

“He is very generous,” Jane agreed and blushed as she turned to look out the window.

“He is,” Elizabeth said, and felt her body relaxing. It was wonderful news that Lydia was no longer enamored with officers, and though her heart agreed with Mary that one should serve for altruistic reasons, her mind told her that such a thing was unlikely with Lydia, who had been selfish since she had been in leading strings. Ideally, the youngest Miss Bennet would become more charitable in time, but for now, Elizabeth could only rejoice that the girl planned to give up chasing officers in favor of charming Mr. Darcy.

Not that Lydia would succeed in that. Mr. Darcy was proving far more unselfish and kindly than Elizabeth had thought possible, but he was indeed very well connected and not likely to lower himself to consider the marital hopes of the other Bennet sisters.

For some reason, that was a rather discouraging realization.