Chapter XII

H enry Bennet surveyed the scene before him as he stepped from the house. The solid and dependable strength of the footman at his back—a man he trusted implicitly—reassured him, as did the imposing bulk of the two stable hands, men who were brawny and had lived at Longbourn for years. That the driver and the gardener, a man of sixty years if he was a day and would likely be of little use if the situation descended to violence had joined them provided Bennet with a measure of dark amusement. The greater their numbers, the higher the possibility they could run this Mr. Wickham from the property, so Bennet was grateful for their support regardless of the efficacy of their actions.

Mr. Wickham stepped from the carriage as Bennet exited the house, his eyes roving over the assembled men arrayed to meet him. A glance back at his driver revealed a man who had taken a commission and nothing more; he would not join if Wickham pushed the matter. Wickham was cool, to be certain. The odds were six against one, and three were young and strapping men. Bennet had not pulled his pistol or his rifle from storage, not wishing to provoke any unpleasantness that was not needed. Unless he had badly miscalculated, Wickham would not push that far.

"Good day, Mr. Wickham," said Bennet in a congenial tone he did not think the man deserved. "It is a surprise to see you, sir, for I recall you resigning your position in the regiment and departing some weeks ago."

"Indeed, I did," replied Wickham, proving that he was not lacking pluck. "A more beneficial situation came to my attention, and I seized it." Wickham shrugged and added: "The life of an officer is not bereft of its charms, but I find it did not agree with me."

Bennet nodded but did not speak, his silence forcing Wickham to state his case. It appeared the man understood and was not pleased, but he did not hesitate to speak.

"I understand from your youngest daughters that Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth escorted Miss Anne de Bourgh to Longbourn."

The mention of his youngest set Bennet on edge. The girls had gone to Meryton with Elizabeth and Jane and had not returned with them. The possibilities whirled through Bennet's head, though he studiously avoided looking at the carriage. It would not do to allow this man to see fear, for he appeared the sort of man who would exploit any weakness to his advantage.

"Miss Lydia herself directed me to Longbourn," said Mr. Wickham, his tone almost conversational. "They are fine girls, Mr. Bennet. I very much appreciate their help."

Sanity settled on Bennet's shoulders. The girls would not be in the carriage, for they had not yet descended, and he did not see any way Wickham could have coerced them to remain silent, and no way he could have bound two, or even three at once. It was equally unlikely Wickham had captured or held them in some other location. His purpose was to sow doubt, and Bennet did not mean to accept the bait.

"I cannot agree more, Mr. Wickham. Perhaps you should tell me your purpose here."

Wickham appeared disappointed. "You already know my purpose. Miss de Bourgh is at the window at this very moment. I thank you for your hospitality and seeing to her comfort, for I understand she found the distance and speed at which we traveled tiring. Now, however, it is time for us to depart."

"And you think I will allow you to take her away?" asked Bennet.

"I think you will allow her to do as her heart dictates," rejoined Wickham. "You have no authority to hold her against her will."

"Ah, then I believe we have arrived at the source of this misunderstanding," replied Bennet. "You see, it appears Miss de Bourgh has reconsidered. As you speak of the dictates of conscience, you understand that her wishes take precedence; she has no wish to continue in your company."

"Mr. Bennet," said Wickham, displaying exaggerated patience, "I traveled far today, and I am tired and dusty. We must still travel several hours until we reach our destination for the night. I know not what your daughter has said to poison her against me, and I care even less. Regardless of your wishes, I will depart with Miss de Bourgh at once."

"I wonder how you mean to exert your will upon us," replied Bennet. "I already informed you that Miss de Bourgh does not wish to leave with you—I have that from her own mouth. We are six arrayed against you, sir. Do you mean to fight through us all to reach her?"

"He will not fight, for Mr. Wickham is naught but a coward."

Startled, Bennet turned to see Miss de Bourgh standing on the stoop, her eyes fixed upon the "libertinous" scoundrel. It was not the best course, for she would be safer if she stayed in the house. Yet perhaps Wickham would understand if her refusal to go with him came directly from her. If nothing else, it would be amusing to witness his consternation.

The ability to hear everything that passed between Mr. Bennet and Mr. Wickham was not without its drawbacks. It was satisfying in that Elizabeth could readily see and hear that his worthlessness of character was exactly what Mr. Darcy had charged. Elizabeth could only wonder now at her gullible acceptance of his tales with no corroborating evidence.

The drawback was that Anne also heard him, and it was clear what she heard did not amuse her. Elizabeth listened to the exchange outside with half an ear, while watching Anne, prepared to prevent her from an outburst she was certain would not help the situation. When it finally occurred, however, there was nothing she could do to prevent her.

"Oh, you will, will you?" snapped Anne when Mr. Wickham asserted his intention of taking her away from Longbourn. "We shall see about that."

Then Anne turned on her heel and marched from the sitting-room, not heeding Elizabeth's urgent call in the slightest. Elizabeth glanced at Jane, and together, they followed on her heels, determined to put themselves between their new friend and the libertine. Mrs. Bennet remained, seeming unable to move so great was her shock.

"He will not fight, for Mr. Wickham is naught but a coward."

The words, delivered in so cold a tone, reminded Elizabeth of exactly who was this woman's mother. Had Lady Catherine heard her daughter speak so, she would undoubtedly have felt pride in her progeny, so implacable and noble was Anne's statement. Mr. Wickham, it appeared, disregarded what she said, for instead of anger or contempt, he beamed at her as if she had just declared her everlasting devotion to him.

"Anne, my sweet," said he, honey dripping from his tone, "how lovely it is to see you. I am humbled by your trust. You should thank the Bennets for their hospitality, for we must depart at once. There are many more miles we must travel today."

Anne's responding smile was a thin, shriveled sort of thing, and it should have told Mr. Wickham all he needed to know about his influence over her. "Yes, the Bennets' hospitality is without equal. I cannot thank them enough, for I learned certain facts I had not known, facts that prevented me from making the greatest of mistakes."

A little of Wickham's smile diminished, but he gamely forced it to remain where it was. "Facts? I am confused, Anne. Unless Darcy has made his usual attempt to defame me and poison the Bennets against me."

"Then you deny you are a debtor. You reject any suggestion that you are a grasping, mercenary degenerate. You suggest you are not a womanizer. And what of your attempt to secure a young woman's fortune for your own?"

Wickham regarded her with no little shock. "Whatever can you mean?"

"I am certain you know exactly what I mean, Mr. Wickham," replied Anne. "Your attempt to deceive me is at an end, for I shall no longer believe anything you say. It would be best if you departed, for I will go no further with you. When I call Darcy and Fitzwilliam here, you had best not be anywhere nearby."

Anne laughed, a mocking repudiation. "Perhaps you should run for Bristol—the Americas may be far enough to save you from Fitzwilliam's wrath, but only if he does not catch you before you board the ship."

Mr. Wickham's genial attitude transformed into an ugly scowl. "This is all amusing, little Miss de Bourgh, but you have forgotten one insignificant point."

"Oh?" asked Anne. "Please enlighten me—what exactly have I forgotten?"

"That you are now ruined by a full day of traveling with me. If you do not come with me, you will be a laughingstock in society. Once I share the tale, your family will be shamed and despised. None of you will be welcome in society."

Anne laughed again, this time full of amusement rather than scorn. "You truly are an amusing specimen, Mr. Wickham. And you have done me the singular favor of proving exactly what sort of man you are."

"He also seems to exhibit an exaggerated sense of the influence he wields," said Elizabeth, stepping into the breach to support her friend. "The notion that the son of a steward could provoke the shunning of an earl and his family is laughable."

"Perhaps I may not affect his standing," retorted Mr. Wickham, glaring at Elizabeth, "but I can see mousy little Anne de Bourgh, a woman who has never even had a season, despised in society.

"Come, Anne," said Wickham, apparently trying for geniality again, "I am not repulsive or ill-favored. We may forge an excellent life together. Let us go away, and we may discuss this business that has risen between us."

"Pretty words following ugliness," said Anne. "For the record, Mr. Wickham, I have no interest in leaving with you now and no intention of ever putting myself in your power again. It is better to be shunned and despised than to endure a lifetime tied to a lout such as you."

With those words, Anne turned on her heel and marched back into the house. Mr. Wickham watched her, a murderous fury blazing in his eyes, but the men contracting the barrier before the house prevented him from any thought of following. Elizabeth thought to go inside, but she would not do so before she gave this man a piece of her mind.

"Your schemes are at an end, Mr. Wickham. You would do well to depart. I ensured that Anne understands the truth—you will never achieve your designs."

"This is a merry bit of folly," said Mr. Wickham, though it appeared he did not appreciate the joke. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who lapped up every word I spoke like a dog, now believes Darcy as if a chorus of angels echoed his words. How can you account for this change of heart?"

"I used the wits with which I was born, Mr. Wickham. Your tales were amusing, but they contained more than a few holes which became apparent when I considered them."

"Oh, so it had nothing to do with Darcy's riches?" The man sneered his contempt. "It is no less than typical, I suppose. Frankly, I give you no greater chance of capturing Darcy's wealth than all the others who attempted it."

Elizabeth shrugged. "It is clear you believe what you say. It also proves you know nothing of me."

"Enough of this talk," said Mr. Bennet. "Lizzy, you had best return to the house. Wickham, you will leave my property at once, for I will say nothing more to you."

Elizabeth might have done what her father asked, but a loud and feminine voice hailed them at that moment, and Kitty and Lydia appeared, Mary trailing behind. They all appeared winded, as if they had run the entire distance from Meryton, but winded or not, it appeared Lydia was not at all pleased with Mr. Wickham.

She approached at a run, hard eyes focused on Mr. Wickham, but before she could get near to him, Mr. Bennet stepped forward and intercepted her.

"Lydia," said he, taking control of his startled daughter, "return to the house at once."

"But Papa!" tried Lydia.

Mr. Bennet was implacable. "No, Lydia, you will do what you are told. I know not of what this man is capable, but I will give him no opportunity to use one of you as a hostage. Join Lizzy now!"

Mary stepped forward and grasped Lydia's arm, pulling her toward Elizabeth, unyielding in her insistence, though more diminutive than Lydia. Kitty followed them, eyeing the former officer warily, while the man scowled at them. Whether he would have stooped to such despicable actions as to use one of them to get to Anne she could not say, but it was best to give him no chance to do so.

"Mr. Wickham has proven his worthlessness?" demanded Lydia, unwilling to be taken into the house just yet.

"In more than just this," replied Elizabeth. "Now, Lydia, come into the house."

At last, Lydia agreed, allowing Elizabeth to herd her younger sisters into the house with Jane's encouragement. There, they all repaired to the window at once where they could see the result of the standoff between the libertine and Longbourn's men. Anne was already within, again watching the scene, and Mrs. Bennet had never left, greeting their entrance with moans of: "But he always seemed so gentlemanly!"

It was no trouble to ignore Mrs. Bennet, as Elizabeth was much more interested in watching the scene outside. Mr. Wickham had not budged from his position, his stubbornness speaking to mulishness rather than healthy determination. However he blustered, threatened, cajoled, or browbeat, Mr. Bennet remained impervious.

"I tell you now, Mr. Wickham," warned Mr. Bennet, "if you attempt to set one foot past the lintel, I shall hand you over to the constable. Then, when we summon Mr. Darcy, we shall see if we can prevail upon him to act against you."

"I fear nothing Darcy can do," blustered Mr. Wickham.

"Given the accounts I have of your dealings with him," replied Mr. Bennet, "I highly doubt that. I suspect that he may have done with you what he wished many years ago but is far too upright to exact vengeance upon a man who richly deserves it."

"Uptight, perhaps," sneered Wickham. "I need nothing of Darcy's morality, for it makes him stiffer than a starched shirt."

"Perhaps it does," replied Mr. Bennet. "But I shall not allow you to take Miss de Bourgh away. Begone at once!"

That did not end the matter, of course. Mr. Wickham continued to threaten vengeance, but in the end, even he had to see he had no chance of prevailing. Finally, Mr. Bennet set the footman and the stable hands on him with instructions to remove Mr. Wickham from the property by any force necessary. Though Mr. Wickham stood his ground for a moment, soon his courage failed him. He bolted into the carriage, and soon the driver took it from the yard, taking the libertine away from Longbourn forever, with any luck. Within moments, there was no sign he had ever been there.

Sighing with relief, Elizabeth turned to her sisters, noting that her mother was nearly catatonic with shock. Jane seemed to notice this too, as she moved to action.

"I think we could all do with a bit of restorative tea," said she as she moved into the hall.

The ladies all sat, no one saying much of anything as they considered the scene that had just taken place on Longbourn's drive. There were a few additional sounds from outside as the men conferred and Mr. Bennet gave them instructions. Within a few moments, Jane returned, Mrs. Hill trailing after with a tray carrying a tea service and several cakes, and Mr. Bennet entered soon thereafter. Anne rose at once and went to him, curtseying deeply.

"Thank you, Mr. Bennet, for protecting me from that contemptible man."

"Not at all, Miss de Bourgh," replied Mr. Bennet, appearing bemused. "It was the least that I, as a gentleman, could do."

"Yet I thank you. As I do your daughter for opening my eyes to the perilous path I trod."

"What an odious man he is!" cried Mrs. Bennet. "I declare I have never seen a man worse than George Wickham!"

"No, I suppose we have not," replied Mr. Bennet. "Though there are even worse men than he in the world.

"Now," said he, fixing his attention on them all, "I believe we must discuss this matter and ensure there are no mistakes. Mr. Wickham has departed, but we would be fools if we thought he has given up his designs."

Mrs. Bennet gasped. "You suppose he is still up to his tricks?"

"I suggest that a man as desperate as Mr. Wickham will go to great lengths before he would abandon what he considers such a profitable endeavor."

"Yes, I concur, Mr. Bennet," said Anne.

"Therefore," said Mr. Bennet with a nod at her, "I must insist that you all stay within the house until Mr. Wickham is no longer a threat. No walks," Mr. Bennet directed a pointed look at Elizabeth, "no wandering in the garden, no sojourns outside the house for any reason. I have set John and the stable hands to watching the property but let us not give him an opportunity to act against us."

Mr. Bennet turned to Anne. "I cannot but think we must alert your family to your present location as soon as possible."

"Yes, I agree," said Anne. "My uncle should still be in town, and my cousin is in the army—his current posting is in London. I shall write a letter to my uncle informing him where he may find me."

Mr. Bennet nodded. "Then I shall arrange for it to be dispatched express. I also sent messengers to the tenants to warn them to be on their guard. It may also be best to inform the gentlemen nearby."

"If you send a message to Sir William," said Elizabeth, "he will alert the rest."

"Then that is what we shall do," said Mr. Bennet.

Mrs. Hill provided paper to Anne, who jotted her letter, which was then placed in the footman's hands for its disposition. While John would not ride to Meryton himself, a boy in the village would deliver it and arrange for it to be sent carrying a few coins from Mr. Bennet. When all these tasks were complete, they sat together again, and Mr. Bennet directed his comments at Elizabeth.

"Now, Lizzy, I wish to know more about this business of you and Mr. Darcy, and his warning to you concerning Mr. Wickham. Did Mr. Darcy tell you anything that would allow us to understand the man's next move?"

Uncomfortable though she was, Elizabeth endeavored to hide it from her father. Jane, when told a secret, was as silent as the grave, so there was no way her father could know anything about the proposal in Hunsford's parlor. As she had no information she thought useful, she could tell him a version of events and not risk leaving out something that might prove critical.

"It happened by chance, Papa," said Elizabeth. "If you recall, my opinion of Mr. Darcy was not the highest when he was in Meryton."

"That is an understatement, my dear," replied Mr. Bennet. "We discussed it earlier, as I recall."

"We did," agreed Elizabeth. "One afternoon Mr. Darcy and I argued, for I made a few choice accusations, which he took the trouble to refute. I do not remember everything, but I know that Mr. Darcy has paid Mr. Wickham's debts in several locations and that his opinion of Mr. Wickham was quite poor by the time he entered university. Beyond these things, his gaming, and his womanizing, I am afraid I can offer nothing more of his propensities. As for his next move, I do not think I can guess."

Mr. Bennet regarded her for a long moment, considering, before he gave her a nod, softened by the smile he directed at her. "Then it appears he exercised enough judgment to refrain from speaking of subjects that might affect your sensibilities. Good. If you can offer nothing more it is unfortunate, but not unexpected.

"Unfortunately, I suspect we may need to endure this situation longer than we might wish." Mr. Bennet turned to Anne. "Will there be any pursuit?"

"It is guaranteed," replied Anne. "I left a letter for my mother."

Mr. Bennet understood the importance of her communication at once. "You were having second thoughts."

"I was not at all assured of the wisdom of my course," replied Anne, "even when I gave my agreement. Mr. Wickham insisted I leave no word, but I did so regardless." Anne shrugged. "Perhaps I was counting on my mother entreating my uncle and cousins, knowing with their support it was likely they would catch us on the road."

"Then that is fortunate and unfortunate at the same time," said Mr. Bennet. "With such swift pursuit as I suspect they would mount, the chances of you reaching Scotland were not great. Yet if your family are all traveling in pursuit of you, it may be some time before we can locate them."

"Unless they discovered news of Anne's passing," said Elizabeth.

"That is possible," conceded Mr. Bennet, his manner thoughtful. "You came through Watford, I presume?"

"We did," said Miss de Bourgh. She smiled and shrugged. "I know little of the geography of these parts, but I remember Mr. Wickham speaking of it. We made a brief stop there."

"Then we had best hope there is someone in your family who has some sense, enough to look for clues of your passage."

"Colonel Fitzwilliam would be familiar with such things, would he not?" asked Elizabeth.

"Yes, I suspect he would," replied Anne. "I cannot imagine my cousin Darcy will be unfamiliar with the concept."

"No, it would seem simple enough. Unless I am much mistaken, Mr. Darcy employs men he can dispatch to investigate."

Anne nodded, not saying anything else.

"Very well," said Mr. Bennet. "Until your relations appear, you are, of course, welcome to stay with us." He paused and looked critically at her. "I do not suppose you brought anything with you."

"What effects I had I left in the coach." Anne shrugged. "They were secured to the top, so I could not exactly bring them with me when I fled."

"No," said a bemused Mr. Bennet. "I suppose that was not possible."

"It is no matter, Papa," said Jane. "My sisters and I can all share with Anne while she remains with us."

A chorus of feminine voices agreed with Jane's assessment, much to Mr. Bennet's bemusement.

"Very well," said the gentleman. "Then I shall leave you to it. We usually serve dinner at six o'clock. Is that not correct, Mrs. Bennet?"

"It is." Mrs. Bennet still appeared shocked by the surprises that had invaded her home that day. "Unless you require sustenance before?"

"I am quite comfortable, Mrs. Bennet," assured Anne.

"Then let us go above stairs, Anne," invited Elizabeth. "Perhaps you would like to rest?"

"I do not require rest," replied Anne. "But I should be happy to become better acquainted with you all if you will allow it."

"Come," said Jane, rising and extending a hand, which Anne did not hesitate to accept. "Let us show you our rooms."

As one, the younger ladies all retreated, leaving their parents behind. Mr. Bennet would surely retreat to his bookroom to while away the afternoon, though Elizabeth knew he would keep a close watch on the house to ensure Mr. Wickham did not return. With those thoughts, Elizabeth gave herself over to her new friend. The future would take care of itself.