Chapter 5

Five

Darcy struggled to settle his mind as he and Bingley rode slowly back to Netherfield. His meeting with the Bennet sisters had left him perplexed . The eldest of them could not be the same Miss Bennet as was in Ramsgate. It was too great a coincidence that the lady Wickham had flirted with, the lady who had abandoned Georgiana's friendship, would be here.

"What do you think, Darcy? Is Miss Bennet not the handsomest woman of your acquaintance? If only I had come to Hertfordshire earlier." Bingley heaved a great sigh.

Pulled from his thoughts, Darcy glanced sideways at his friend. Steering his horse down the path towards Netherfield, he considered whether he had ever seen him so morose.

"Here now, you have had your little heartbreaks over the years."

"Not like this. She is perfect, and I am too late. She is engaged."

"Well, you must be sensible. If Miss Bennet is not free for your consideration, you must be a gentleman and devote your attentions elsewhere."

"She is the one for me."

"Bingley, you have been here a week."

"The banns have not been read."

"Do you wish to be called out? You are behaving irrationally."

Bingley grimaced and shook his head. "Love is irrational, Darcy, but you must not worry. My ‘attentions', as you say, are not so pronounced as to be alarming." His brow wrinkled, giving him the appearance of a small boy. "We have never been in company outside of her family. I have called at Longbourn and enjoyed conversing with her and her sisters."

Darcy turned and gave him an almost scathing look. "You call alone, without your sisters?"

"Just the once. Um, twice." Bingley shrugged. "I sought out Mr Bennet for any knowledge he had of Netherfield. Hurst accompanied me. I called alone a second time. Caroline and Louisa do not much care for the Bennets. Mrs Bennet is kindly, but she can be rather effusive, especially when welcoming gentlemen callers."

"She what? Welcomes gentlemen callers?"

"Having five daughters out requires ready hospitality," parried Bingley, clearly annoyed by Darcy's disgust. "Truly, she is a charming lady, who retains the beauty and spirit of her youth. Miss Elizabeth and Miss Lydia most favour her. Both are lively girls who love to laugh, though I dare say Miss Elizabeth is far more astute in her humour."

It came as no surprise to Darcy to hear that the girl whose dark eyes had flashed at him was both clever and spirited, as well as observant; he had noticed it in the few moments in which they had been in company. London was as full of fools as the country; it was fair that a similar measure of intelligence should be found in either place. Of course, the same could be said of the number of scoundrels. Determined to rid himself of worry over the Bennets' connexion to Wickham, he affected disinterest. "Five daughters out also require five husbands. Meryton is not a large town. Is Miss Bennet engaged to a local gentleman?"

Bingley made no reply as his horse sped up, jumping over a moss-covered jumble of tree branches. Then he laughed, though it lacked any humour. "A gentleman? I suppose you must be the judge of that, for while I am not a gentleman, I do not believe him to be one either." His expression darkened. "In fact, I recall your acquaintance with him to be rather disagreeable. You find many people disagreeable, of course, but?—"

"I know him? What is his name?" Darcy's impatience was overtaken by dread.

"She is betrothed to George Wickham."

Bloody hell. Stunned and almost unable to comprehend such news, the air left Darcy's lungs. This is the same lady who abandoned my sister when Wickham turned his charms on her? He turned away from Georgiana for the daughter of a country squire? He shook his head in disbelief. Blessed as Georgiana was for being spurned, why would the heartless debaucher wish to marry Miss Bennet? He was ill-formed for settling into the duties and obligations of marriage, even if a fortune was attached to it. What did Miss Bennet bring to the marriage?

Had one of them entrapped the other?

Unconsciously, as he fought to maintain his composure, he jerked on his reins, and Flyer began to trot.

"Darcy!" Bingley and his mount were swiftly at his side. "You have rarely mentioned him, but Wickham was at Pemberley, was he not? Son of the steward? Is he worthy of Miss Bennet?"

He is unworthy of any decent woman.

"I-I cannot say."

Of course you can, he chastised himself. Wickham was a decrier of responsibility, be it a broken vase or a ruined innkeeper's daughter! Rage and revulsion pulled within him to leave this place, to get away from any possible reunion with the despicable man. Only a month earlier, Wickham had been filling Georgiana's mind with romantic fantasy; now he was to marry the ‘kind and gentle lady' to whom she had introduced him?

He could not believe it.

That evening, Darcy's astonishment was supplanted by darker musings when, aided by a healthy amount of the good port he had brought with him from his London cellars, he sat in his room, sprawled in a capacious—albeit hideously upholstered—chair and attempted to sort his thoughts. Quickly he discovered the chair was as uncomfortable as the state of his mind, and he rose to begin pacing instead.

Wickham had never tied himself to a woman or shown more than a passing interest in any lady but those out of his reach. At university, where he was free from the oversight of Pemberley's butler and housekeeper and his godfather, he occupied himself with all manner of decadence. Darcy could not imagine any alteration in his habits. Wealth would only worsen his behaviour; destitution would only make him desperate.

He stared down at his feet, encased in the finest velvet slippers, on a carpet as thick as any found in a bedchamber at Pemberley. The folds of his silk banyan draped around his shoulders; the half-empty bottle of fine port sat on his table. His riding boots were freshly polished and awaiting him come morning. This was his life—one of wealth and privilege but also of work and duty. Wickham had cared only for the first of those and shirked any sense of obligation and responsibility for his actions. Had he changed? Had his fortunes changed? Was he in fact in a position to marry—of a mindset to marry?

It was stupid to care. Stupid to involve himself. He is nothing to me but the past. The Bennets are nothing to me.

Much as Darcy could tell himself not to be involved, to avoid the risk of entanglement in concerns that were not his own, he had to seek answers. He needed to know whether Wickham's interest in Miss Bennet was sincere or if?—

If what? If I must assure her welfare? Rescue her from the swine? Georgiana is safe—must I worry about every lady that scoundrel charms?

Staring out of the window onto Netherfield's dark lawn, Darcy searched his memory of the fateful day. He had arrived exhausted, packed up and removed Georgiana from Ramsgate within hours. What had she told him through tears on the carriage ride back to London?

Mrs Younge had seemingly guided her towards Wickham, then abandoned her while he had ingratiated himself into her company. Then came the day he found her with her new friends, and soon after introducing them, Georgiana was deserted. Darcy had not cared a whit about these unknown friends; if they had abandoned his shy sister for Wickham, they were either unsavoury society or gullible heiresses, ripe for the plucking. He directed his ire at her companion, dismissing her without explanation. Still, he was careful not to disparage the two women to Georgiana, who had treasured their company.

In the leather pouch packed with his travelling desk, he found the letters his sister had written to him over the past few months. ‘A bit of your voice to always have with me', he had told her years ago, when she asked why he held onto and travelled with what she then considered childish scrawling. It was as his father had done, keeping close his wife's last letters and those from his son, so that in moments of loneliness, he would feel closeness to his loved ones, whether here or gone.

He studied the plaintive words of his sister, feeling rejected by her new friends and by Wickham:

After George endeavoured to gain an introduction to my friends, he commanded their company, and my connexion to the ladies was at an end. I saw George yesterday afternoon, while Mrs Younge and I sat near the sea wall, sketching. He gave us such a look; whether he was pained or angry, I could not know, but I did not see him again.

It was through the luck of an encounter with a near stranger that Georgiana escaped an appalling fate. Wickham would have loved to revenge himself on me and take her and her dowry away. My sister escapes him, but another lady becomes his target.

Yet it did not add up. Wickham only seeks pleasure, gain, and advantage. What would he gain in marrying Miss Bennet? Longbourn hardly appeared the most prosperous estate, and Bingley had been quite loud in professing that Netherfield Park was second in size only to Haye-Park. That meant the boundaries of Longbourn must be far less than a hundred acres. There must be some fortune, somewhere. Perhaps Mr Bennet was elderly and there was no heir; yet why would Wickham position himself to inherit a small estate in a market town a few hours' ride from London? It was far below the ambitions he once had held, and in opposition to his customary debauched behaviour with women. More than one girl in Lambton had been left with child, and dozens likely despoiled since they had gone off to Cambridge.

Wickham might not know the fates of the girls he ruined, but neither had he cared to ensure their names and innocence remained unsullied. No. He was not a man who could change his ways. No woman was safe in his company. Until he had finagled his way into her life and likely compelled her to abandon the connexion, Miss Bennet had been kind to Georgiana. Was her naivety so profound? Else why would she lower herself to him, for he most assuredly would not improve himself for her. Perhaps the marriage was not the ideal for any party: Had Wickham taken liberties with Miss Bennet that left her family desperate for a wedding? That would be the likeliest—and worst possible—reason for such a doomed alliance.

The lady may have passed her holiday without notice if not for her friendship with Georgiana. Did that not make her situation his responsibility? Did I rescue my sister only to leave the unknown Miss Bennet as prey to Wickham?

Regardless of Miss Jane Bennet's ill-mannered family, Wickham was unworthy of her. I shall have to acquaint myself with the Bennets.