Chapter Twenty-Eight

Elizabeth

E lizabeth rode with Mrs Dillinger in her cart, Mr Darcy riding on his horse beside them. Together, they made their way to the Sanderson estate, where Mary worked. Elizabeth could not shake the feeling that something peculiar was going on. It was only a fifteen-minute ride, which passed even quicker because Mr Darcy was able to make civil conversation with Mrs Dillinger. Considering that he had said he found it very difficult to do such a thing, she was rather impressed. He was utterly charming and kind and was able to recall many details of Mrs Dillinger's family. She stole a glance at him and smiled, which he returned with a smile of his own.

They arrived at the Sanderson estate swiftly. Mrs Dillinger made her way towards the back of the house. Elizabeth and Mr Darcy followed, they stopped at the servants' entrance, but she realised that they did not have to even bother going inside. Mary was right outside, as were several other people. Elizabeth caught snippets of conversation as they drew nearer.

"Mary," Mrs Dillinger said. The young woman turned.

"Mrs Dillinger," Mary said, and then stopped when she saw Elizabeth and Mr Darcy. "Mr Darcy?" she asked and curtsied. An older man and two women with her all curtsied as well, while Mr Darcy shifted uncomfortably as though he was not accustomed to this sort of attention anymore.

"Please, I… There is really no need. Miss Morris, we've just come to ask you a question regarding your brother."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "You mean William, my brother-in-law? I didn't know that you were aware."

Aware? So there had been some sort of trouble. Could it be Mr Wickham had not been telling tales after all? Had they been too hasty? Before either could elaborate, Mrs Dillinger stepped forward.

"Mr Wickham came by and told me that your brother was in trouble and you had to go and help," Mrs Dillinger said, recounting the whole story. As she retold her tale, Elizabeth watched Mary's face twist as if she were rather disgusted by what she was hearing. And she was not the only one. The three people who had been with her likewise frowned. When Mrs Dillinger finished her tale, Mary cleared her throat.

"That Mr Wickham must be up to something because what he told you is not true at all. The Saturday before last, a man came to my house and said that my brother-in-law William had got himself into trouble with the law. He had a letter with him supposedly dictated by my sister. In it, she told me that William had got into an awful mess, and that this man who had delivered the letter was a good friend of theirs, who was helping collect funds to help release William from jail. I thought it was most peculiar because William is not the sort to get himself into trouble."

Elizabeth looked at Mr Darcy.

"I hope you did not give him any of your money," Mr Darcy said quickly.

Mary shook her head. "I did not. I told the man that I did not know him, and I was not going to trust a stranger with all of my wages. But I went to Mr Wickham to ask his advice, and he told me that I could trust that man, that he knew him from when he was a wine merchant."

Elizabeth scoffed. "He was no more a wine merchant than a lady of high birth."

"I didn't want to speak badly about a man of the cloth, but I didn't quite trust him either. So I told Mrs Sanderson that I had to go home for a few days. When I arrived, my sister told William was indeed missing but that she had never sent a letter. We were terribly worried, and I regret not taking the man up on his offer because he seemed to know more than my own sister. Just as I was considering coming back here and asking Mr Wickham to put me back in touch with his friend, William arrived. It turns out he was just delayed on the road."

Elizabeth bit her bottom lip. This proved that whoever this was, was up to no good, and if he was Mr Wickham's friend, that didn't bode well for the vicar.

"I think there is a conspiracy at hand. I myself overheard what I can only describe as a confederation of bandits in the woods plotting to take Mrs Dillinger for all of her savings. And now somebody has come and told her a tall tale similar to what Mary was told." She relayed the entire story of what had happened in the woods, leaving out the part involving Mr Darcy and himself. She found that part too private to share.

"I think their ploy is as follows, they tell people that someone they love is in trouble, and they need to pay a certain amount of money to remedy the situation. The victim then hands them whatever money they have, while the bandit promises the pay whatever the remainder is from his own pocket for a fee, but then, they simply keep the money given to them and disappear. There must be more to it, however. Mr Wickham would not be able to keep this up for long."

"He will not be able to, that is right," the old man said now. "And there is more to it. You see, when I heard Mary had gone away, I had a bad feeling so I was waiting for her return." He blinked. "I am Benton, I own a farm down by the stream."

Mr Darcy nodded, clearly aware who this man was. "Go on, Mr Benton."

"A young lad came to me the other day," the older man spoke up. "Offered to help me on the field. He didn't even ask for any money, and I first thought it was too good to be true, but then he asked if I could offer him accommodations instead. He came recommended by Mr Wickham as well. I have just found out that that same young lad was driven out of Hatches Field in southern Derbyshire for thievery."

"I told you that Mr Wickham was up to no good," a woman now said.

"Mrs Wexford?" Mr Darcy said, and the woman looked at him with a smile.

"You remember me, Mr Darcy? It's been a very long time." Mr Darcy nodded. "I could never forget my sister's nurse. But what did you mean when you said you told everyone Mr Wickham was up to no good?"

"I told people what he was like when he was a lad. That he should never have been allowed to become the vicar. That he took advantage of your situation to claim the living…" She looked down as if making a point not to look at Mr Darcy's scars. "I knew that if you had been well, you would not have allowed it. But other people said that he should be given a chance. I haven't gone to church in a while, but I know many people have donated to the church, and yet no repairs have been made. And Mr Wickham asks for more and more donations."

"He says you won't pay for necessary repairs at the church," Mary said.

Mrs Dillinger chimed in at once. "Indeed, he has said that. Not in an accusing tone, he has tried to dress it up as saying, given your condition…" Elizabeth saw the old woman flush red and realised just how hard it had to have been, not just for Mr Darcy, but for everyone who had known him to deal with the effects of the fire.

"That Wickham has taken more donations than the previous vicar did in a whole year," the old man said now.

"But why are people willing to give him so many donations?" Mr Darcy asked, "especially if so many of you are no longer going to church? I was there on Sunday, and I saw that the number of attendees had dwindled compared to just a few years ago."

Mary and Mrs Wexford exchanged glances, and then Mrs Dillinger cleared her throat. "It's because he has been telling everybody that he intends to build a memorial to the people that died in the Pemberley fire. He said that you were not willing to contribute to it, so he was turning to us. He said he was donating half of his wages towards the cause as well."

Elizabeth saw Mr Darcy's jaw clench as he took this in. "He did come to me and asked me to fund a memorial, but I did not believe that he meant to build it at all. I suspected he would take the money for himself and run."

"I would not doubt it," Mrs Wexford said, and the others nodded. Silence fell over the group, and the time the silence was broken was when Mr Darcy spoke up, shoulders pulled back.

"I will speak to Wickham now. I was going to anyhow. I think he is involved in all manner of things we were unaware of."

"You ought to ask him where all the money is that he has been taking," Mary said, "he claimed that he had spoken to the stonemason in town about the statue, but when I asked Mr Henry, he had never even met Mr Wickham. He is lying. And now this newest development involving my brother-in-law and Mrs Dillinger?"

"I will go with you there," Elizabeth said at once but Mr Darcy shook his head.

"I need you to return to Pemberley and let Cogsworth and Lightower know where I've gone."

Elizabeth nodded, "Very well, but will you be safe? What if Mr Wickham is angry that you've discovered he's up to no good?"

"I've dealt with Wickham numerous times over the years, that man does not frighten me." He mounted his horse and was about to ride out in the direction of the rectory when he stopped and addressed the small gathering. "I must beg your pardon. I have not been a very good patron. I promise you from now on Pemberley, and all of its tenants will be looked after as they deserve." Quickly, he drove his spurs into the horse's sides and rode away while others stood and looked after him, apprehension crackling in the air.