Chapter 14

Fourteen

A loud scream rent the air, jolting Bennet from a light doze. He catapulted from his seat and was across the room in moments, peering out the window where he could see the estate's back garden in its entirety. To his utmost shock, he discovered Darcy and Wickham scuffling on the ground while Elizabeth stood aside, calling for them to stop. With a fleetness of foot Bennet was not aware he still possessed, he dashed from his book-room and traversed the length of the house in mere seconds.

As he darted past the music room, Mary and Kitty poked their heads out into the corridor. It was Kitty who asked, tremulously, "What is happening, Papa?"

"Nothing to be concerned about, girls. Stay inside." So saying, Bennet flung open the garden door and rushed outside.

"Stop that immediately!" he shouted, waving his arms about as he rushed towards the ongoing fracas. "Stop it! What is the meaning of this?"

Though Darcy spared him a glance, Wickham did not and it cost the former his footing. Wickham rolled them over so that Darcy was on his back and began dealing him blows from above. Elizabeth, to Bennet's horror, leapt to her betrothed's defence and attempted to pry Wickham away, but her strength was no match for the task. Wickham flung her off and she stumbled backwards and fell to the ground.

This provided enough distraction to allow Darcy to regain the upper hand and he planted Wickham a facer the moment the blackguard turned back round. Wickham cried out, clutching his face as blood began spurting freely from his nose. Before Darcy could give Wickham more of what he deserved, Bennet was there and pulling his vexatious son-in-law up by the back of his coat.

"Good Lord!" cried Bennet, heaving Wickham away from Darcy and dropping him unceremoniously to the flagstone path. The lout whimpered and sobbed over the ruination of his pretty face, forcing Bennet to raise his voice as he commanded them to account for their execrable display. "What are the pair of you about? Brawling in the back garden where there are ladies about—what can you be thinking?"

Darcy, rising to a sitting position with Elizabeth's plainly unnecessary assistance, pointed a finger at Wickham's squirming form. "Defending your daughter's honour! I caught that cur manhandling Elizabeth. Had I not arrived when I did, you can be assured that something yet more foul would have befallen her."

Bennet's heart seized in an icy grip and his gaze flew to where Elizabeth crouched at Darcy's side. Now that he looked closely at her, it was clear she was more overcome than he would have expected in the given circumstances. She shook like a leaf caught in a breeze, her bonnet was missing, and half her hair had fallen from its pins. Her eyes were also red-rimmed, as if she had been crying; his brave, bold Lizzy rarely cried. "Is this true?"

Elizabeth swallowed and nodded her head. Darcy clasped her hand where it gripped at his sleeve and she leant into him.

Full of the deepest rage he had ever experienced—far more than he had felt upon learning of Lydia's recent escapades—Bennet clenched his fists. Whether he meant to restrain himself or use them to pummel Wickham, even he could not say, but first he demanded an explanation from the coward at his feet. "What have you to say to this accusation, Wickham?"

Wickham kept one hand over his freely bleeding nose and used the other to point at Elizabeth and Darcy, who were presently rising to their feet. "They are lying! I was merely talking to Elizabeth when Darcy attacked me for no reason. I have half a mind to call the magistrate!"

"If anyone is to face justice, it shall be you," growled Darcy, still cradling Elizabeth to his side.

"I swear to you, I meant no harm! Darcy is only out to ruin me, much as he always has."

"He is lying!"

The entire party turned to find Mary and Kitty, against Bennet's expressly given orders, standing next to the back door of the manor with Jane and a gaggle of servants peering into the garden. Kitty had a trembling finger raised and pointed at Wickham in accusation.

"He meant to do something awful, I know it! Worse, Lydia put him up to it! She confessed it herself."

Attention returned to Wickham, whose eyes were darting from face to face as if searching out a sympathetic supporter. He found none. "I…I swear, it is not as it appears. We were only having some fun."

Bennet scoffed. "Forgive me, but I believe my family has suffered enough from your sense of fun for one lifetime. I cannot say I care for it myself, nor do I wish my daughters further exposed to it. You and Lydia are no longer welcome here." He turned away from Wickham and called to the maid who was skulking behind Mary and Kitty. "Sarah, go to the stables and bring John and Robert here immediately. I want this miscreant watched over until we can send him on his way."

Sarah scurried off to do as bid, disappearing round the corner of the house.

"Mrs Hill," Bennet's gaze shifted to the housekeeper, who paled at being addressed. "Go wake Mrs Wickham and assist her in packing their trunks. Our visitors will be departing from Longbourn shortly."

"I will go with her, Papa," Jane said, looking grimmer than Bennet could ever recall. "Two may be necessary for this task."

"Thank you, Jane. Perhaps you can keep Lydia's likely fury to a minimum."

As the two women strode off into Longbourn, Bennet turned to face Darcy and Elizabeth, standing together near the gate. "Darcy, if you would please take Elizabeth inside, I would be most grateful. I shall meet with you in my book-room as soon as I have seen to some necessary business."

Darcy nodded and guided Elizabeth towards the house where her sisters waited to embrace her. While this occurred, he and Bennet exchanged a glance and a nod, cementing their unspoken understanding. They might not agree in every instance, nor were they ever likely to be great friends, but they were united in their care for Elizabeth.

Though Darcy had intended to usher Elizabeth upstairs with her sisters to have a rest, she had insisted upon joining him in Mr Bennet's sanctum. "I was the victim in all this," she had argued, "and deserve to have a say in what happens next." She was correct, of course, and so they sat holding hands, her head resting on Darcy's shoulder, until Mr Bennet could attend them.

They did not have to wait long, for within a quarter hour, a harried Mr Bennet came into the room and headed directly for his chair. He all but fell into it, seemingly boneless in his exhaustion.

They allowed him a few moments to collect himself and, once he had, he got directly to the point, much to Darcy's satisfaction. "Wickham is being watched over by two stable lads until we can decide what to do with him. I have some ideas, though of course I desire your opinion."

"Of course," said Darcy. He was seconded by Elizabeth's nod.

"The first option is that we can call in the magistrate and see Wickham charged with assault. Are you injured, my dear?" Mr Bennet leant forward across his desk, eyeing his daughter keenly.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, merely shaken up. He did not hurt me."

Mr Bennet unleashed a relieved breath. "Thank God for small favours. However, this does make any case against him far less likely to see him punished, for there is no apparent damage. There is plenty of testimony, of course, but with his own injuries, he can claim that it was all a misunderstanding or that he was the one under attack. He is a charming lout, one must give him that."

Darcy sneered. "I suppose we must."

"There is also the possible threat of scandal if we go that route. As much as I would love to see him rightly punished for attempting to harm Lizzy?—"

The three of them were startled by a loud shriek which reverberated through the room. This was followed immediately by an equally loud diatribe which was largely indistinct in its fast-paced vehemence.

"I suppose Lydia must have her part in the conversation," Elizabeth noted with a dryness reminiscent of her father. A bark of laughter burst from Darcy at the unexpected reminder of his querulous aunt. He hastily covered it with a cough, but the quirk of Elizabeth's lips suggested she was unconvinced by his ploy.

Mr Bennet shook his head. "Where was I? Oh, yes. As much as I would prefer to see Wickham locked up, I do not believe it wise to open ourselves to further scandal. Should he actually be sent to gaol, not only would he bring us further disgrace, but we would then be saddled with Lydia's care."

Darcy refused to dwell on that possibility. "What is your suggestion?"

"That we send them both on to Newcastle where they can find their own way. I shall cut all ties and allow them to finally face the consequences of their own misdeeds."

"I would wish to call him out," grumbled Darcy. Beside him, Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath. "But duelling is, of course, against the law and would have even worse consequences than seeing him arrested. I think your plan is likely the best one we have available to us, however much I should prefer to exact my pound of flesh."

"I am of the same mind. 'Tis a shame there is not more we can do without first harming ourselves in the process. I dislike the notion of setting them free upon an unsuspecting society."

Elizabeth bit her lip. "Ought we not do something to prevent them preying upon others?"

"Fear not, my love." Darcy squeezed her hand gently. "I am in correspondence with Wickham's superior officer and rest assured that I shall send him a full report of his capacity for mischief. In addition, I have been collecting his debts for many years and can always call them in should he ever become too unruly. I shall be sure to inform him of that fact before they leave."

"That is a relief."

"Do we have an accord, then?" Mr Bennet held out his hand to shake, and Darcy took it.

An hour or so later, Darcy had the very great pleasure of shoving Wickham into a hired carriage. The reprobate had the gall to complain of mistreatment, but his squawking was blessedly dampened by the swelling of his nose and the carriage door slamming closed upon it. Darcy allowed himself a satisfied smirk when Wickham yelped and covered his mangled snout, which would likely never look quite the same again. He could only hope that the damage done would render Wickham less pleasing to the female eye in future.

"Let me go! Mama, do not allow them to do this to me— Mama !"

Lydia Wickham, hauled out of her childhood home by her arm, was not content to go as quietly as her husband. She dug her heels into the gravel path and threw her entire weight into resisting, but she was no match for her father's will to see her gone. Mrs Bennet, though she sniffled into her lacy handkerchief, did nothing to assist her youngest; she merely leant deeper into Jane Bennet's coddling embrace as Mr Bennet wrenched open the carriage door and thrust her inside.

"How can you do this to me, your own daughter?" she screeched in her father's face.

Mr Bennet barked at her to sit down. Either from alarm or surprise, the girl collapsed onto the bench next to her moaning husband. "I went against my instincts and allowed you to visit your family before sending you off to Newcastle, and look where it has got me in merely a few days. Never again, do you hear me? Begone from here and do not return."

"You are awful and I hate you!"

Darcy's gratification at the scene ebbed at the stricken look upon Mr Bennet's mien, but his future father-in-law faltered only a moment. "It pains me to hear it, but such is the price I willingly pay to restore order at Longbourn. I cannot have you here attempting to harm your sisters or corrupting them with your immoral behaviour. What I do now I do to protect the rest of the family."

Her face, red and twisted into an unholy snarl, bore no resemblance to the pretty, lively girl she had once been. Darcy thought they might be witnessing her true self, the one she ably hid within. "You are a weak, stupid old man and I hope I never see you again. You never cared a jot for me and now you are throwing me away because your precious Lizzy got what she so richly deserved. She and Mr Darcy are a perfect match with all their snobbery."

Mr Bennet sighed, shook his head, and shut the door on his daughter. He ordered the driver to walk on and, with as little fanfare as possible, the Wickhams were gone.

Darcy stepped closer to Mr Bennet; together they watched the carriage until it had disappeared round the bend, leaving nought but a cloud of dust in its wake. They stared into the distance long after it was out of sight and the ladies had returned indoors, each introspective.

Clearing his throat, Darcy made an attempt to comfort Mr Bennet, though it was an awkward business. "You did the right thing."

"Of course I did, but it does not make the task any easier. Lydia might be a hateful girl, but she is what she is because I did not take the trouble to check her sooner. Because I did not, my entire family was nearly brought to ruin."

"You are too severe upon yourself."

"Am I? Hardly. That girl has been spoilt since the day she was born and I did nothing to curb it. Is it any wonder she has turned out the way she has?"

Witnessing the despondency writ across Mr Bennet's features, Darcy clapped him upon the shoulder. "Elizabeth gave me some advice the other day which I believe applies here. She said that we—she and I, that is—have a tendency to burden ourselves with all the blame of a situation, regardless of it being shared elsewhere. I believe, in this instance, you take too much upon your shoulders."

Mr Bennet scoffed. "Who is to suffer but myself? This has been my own doing and I ought to feel it."

"By that same token, I ought to take responsibility for Wickham's misdeeds," said Darcy. "Perhaps not for his actions, but for not warning others of his proclivities. If I had, he would never have been allowed to prey upon your family the way that he did."

"The perfect Mr Darcy admits a fault? I should never have believed it had I not heard it for myself."

Ignoring the dig, Darcy continued, "The point is, I have just as much cause to castigate myself as you do, yet I do not believe that either of us is actually at fault. We speak of what we might have done to counter their abhorrent conduct, but they are the ones who have acted wrongly and shown no remorse. Yes, there are things we might have done differently, but in the end, the behaviour of the Wickhams is upon their shoulders alone."

Mr Bennet sighed and shook his head. "Come, let us return inside. I know we are both anxious to check on Elizabeth's welfare, and a cup of tea would not be amiss either."