Chapter XXXIV

F irst, it was imperative to settle Georgiana, who had experienced a fright that night. Though knocked to the side by the struggling men, she appeared unhurt, her eyes rolling with terror even as Elizabeth knelt with Mrs. Hill to loosen the bonds keeping her hands behind her back. Elizabeth pulled the cloth from her mouth, grunting when the girl threw herself into her arms, trembling with the shock of what she had endured. Elizabeth held her and soothed her back as her sisters gathered around and the three servants compelled a swearing Mr. Wickham down the stairs. After they had disappeared, a whack, the sound of a hand striking flesh, ended the officer's foul language, though the echoes of their retreat still reached Elizabeth's ears.

? "Mrs. Hill," said Mr. Bennet, "a candle if you will."

? The housekeeper nodded and stepped into a nearby room—Elizabeth's—while Mr. Bennet knelt near to the huddling mass of his daughters and friend's sister. Georgiana, sensing he was present, removed her face from Elizabeth's nightgown and peered up at him in the dim gloom of the hallway, until Mrs. Hill arrived with the candle and pressed it into Mary's hands.

? "I will rouse the maids, if they remain asleep, and ensure the sitting-room is lit enough for you to interrogate Mr. Wickham."

? "Perhaps a spot of tea might not go amiss," said Mr. Bennet, peering at Georgiana. "It may be best to add a little something to help us all sleep thereafter."

? Mrs. Hill nodded and turned away, leaving the family alone in the hallway.

? "Miss Darcy," said Mr. Bennet, "I need to know more of this man before we confront him. Can you share your history with him?"

? For a moment, Elizabeth thought Georgiana would not respond, for such a look of terror as she had never seen lit up the girl's face. It was gone almost before it appeared, however, and she took on a pleasing sense of courage and determination.

? "Mr. Wickham is the son of my father's former steward, Mr. Bennet. He is of age with my brother, but William has not associated with him for many years."

? "That much I recall," said Mr. Bennet. "Your brother said something of a living that he did not take?"

? "Kympton. Mr. Wickham had no interest in taking the living and accepted three thousand pounds in exchange for resigning any claim to it."

? Mr. Bennet's eyebrows rose in response. "That is a handsome sum for the son of a steward."

? "There was also a bequest from my father of one thousand pounds." Georgiana by now appeared to have mastered her fears and had built up a head of anger. "William had Mr. Wickham watched for a few years after he received his inheritance and learned that Mr. Wickham exhausted the entire sum in two years. He also settled debts in Cambridge and Lambton, the amount of which he did not tell me, but I assume were significant. My brother will not speak of the matter to me, but I also suspect that Mr. Wickham was free with his favors to the ladies."

? "A reprehensible man," said Mr. Bennet, shaking his head with disgust.

? "I overheard Mr. Wickham telling you that your brother had taken everything from him," said Elizabeth. "Was he referring to the living?"

? A nod was Georgiana's response. "Mr. Wickham goes about the country incurring debts and ruining lives, and one of his favorite stories is to suggest that my brother did not allow him to take the living which was left to him in my father's will. After he depleted the money and the living fell vacant, he wrote to my brother asking for the preferment. William refused any suggestion of it."

? "A half-truth then," said Jane, appearing shocked at such wickedness. "Your brother did refuse him, but not until after he had resigned the living."

? "I suppose he had no intention of seeking ordination?"

? Mr. Bennet, having lived as a parson for many years, could not abide such men ascending to a position he considered a higher calling. There were many, as he had stated over the years, who were not worthy of being men of God, for they paid little attention to living as one ought other than to sanctimoniously preach their hypocrisies from the pulpit every week. That one such as Mr. Wickham could lie about it was a personal affront.

? "Again, William said nothing to me, but I must assume he did not. As reprehensible as this behavior is, his betrayals run even deeper."

? The way Mr. Bennet regarded her, Elizabeth was certain he understood she was about to reveal a horrible family secret. Unnecessary as it was, Elizabeth thought to assure her friend they believed her in every particular when Georgiana spoke again.

? "Before we came to Hertfordshire, I was holidaying in Ramsgate with my companion when Mr. Wickham came upon us."

? A gasp escaped Jane's lips and Georgiana looked down; it was difficult to see in the faint light of the candle, but Elizabeth suspected her cheeks were flaming.

? "Georgiana," said she, holding the girl with all the affection she felt, "do not suppose we will judge you for whatever misstep this man orchestrated. If you prefer, we do not need to know what it was."

? The encouragement was enough to stiffen Georgiana's spine. "Not at all, Elizabeth; I do not suppose you will think the worst of me for it. But I must tell you all so that you may deal with Mr. Wickham."

? "Dealing with Mr. Wickham will be your brother's responsibility." Mr. Bennet offered a smile which did nothing to part the clouds of anger in his eyes. "If you wish to speak of it, we will listen and not judge."

? "Thank you, Mr. Bennet. I knew nothing of William's dealings with Mr. Wickham, and as I had fond memories of him when I was a child, I welcomed him. Mr. Wickham is a charming man, and he used that charm to recommend himself to me sufficient to induce me to accept his proposal to elope."

? Silence descended on the company, such that when Georgiana continued to speak, Elizabeth suspected she did so to prevent it from becoming oppressive.

? "To my everlasting good fortune, my brother visited unexpectedly, finding Mr. Wickham with me. You can imagine how he reacted."

? "Yes, Georgiana," said Mr. Bennet. "As a father, I can imagine it well. I suppose he ran Mr. Wickham off and warned him against spreading rumors?"

? Georgiana shrugged. "I was in turmoil and know little of what happened in that confrontation. Mr. Wickham left soon after, and William discovered that Mrs. Younge, my companion, was complicit in Mr. Wickham's schemes, there having been a previous association between them."

? The disgust in Mr. Bennet's face became pure obsidian. "Your companion, paid by your brother to assist you in your education, conspired with this Mr. Wickham to mislead you, and I assume the purpose was to steal your dowry?"

? "To revenge himself upon my brother must have been an equally compelling motivation," said Georgiana, her voice near inaudible.

? "Then that is all I need to know." Mr. Bennet turned his attention to his daughters. "It would be best, I believe, to avoid further exposing you to this man, for I do not suppose his language will be fit for gentle ears. Please remain above stairs while I deal with Mr. Wickham."

? "Of course, Father," said Jane, recovered from her shock.

? "If you please," said Georgiana, her manner diffident, "I would prefer not to be alone."

? "After we have our tea," said Mary, "you may sleep in my room tonight."

? The smile with which Georgiana replied spoke to her great relief. Jane and Mary assisted Georgiana from the floor, while Elizabeth stood and regarded her father.

? "What will you do with Mr. Wickham?"

? A shaken head, and Mr. Bennet said: "If I can restrain John from dealing with him once and for all, we will tie him up and put him in the stable overnight with the lads watching him. Should he survive John's ministrations, he will need to brave Darcy's displeasure, to say nothing of Fitzwilliam."

? Elizabeth nodded and excused herself to follow her sisters into the small sitting-room attached to the mistress's chambers. While a part of her could burned with curiosity to know how the confrontation would ensue, she agreed with her father's assessment. It was better that she and her sisters were not witness to it.

Henry Bennet was as furious as he could ever remember. The thought of a libertine the likes of this Mr. Wickham invading his house where his precious daughters and the sister of his dearest friend slept filled him with wrath the likes of which he controlled by the barest of margins. It was fortunate that Bennet considered himself a man of God, for the urge to enter the sitting-room with a dueling sword and run it through the caricature of a man waiting within was nigh overpowering.

? It was for that reason Bennet went to his study instead of confronting Wickham at once, spending several moments pacing and allowing his excess rage to burn away, replaced with a simmering determination to ensure this man met justice. Bennet would not achieve that end by assaulting him; even if he was now of the privileged landowner class and immune to any accusation from the son of a steward short of murder, he would not descend to the other man's wickedness. Twenty years as a parson had taught him that violence was never the solution and could only be a protection when forced by another. Thus, five minutes later, Bennet judged he had calmed himself sufficient to face the man who had much for which he must answer.

? Upon entering the room, he discovered the reason for the silence, when he would have expected this Wickham to be making enough noise to wake the dead, for one of his men had possessed the foresight to stuff a cloth into his mouth. While Wickham was no doubt swearing behind his muzzle, at least he was not screaming fit to wake Sir William and his family at Lucas Lodge. As Bennet advanced into the room, the man ceased his attempts to spit out the cloth and curse around it, and instead fixed him with a baleful glare.

? "Mr. Wickham, I presume," said Bennet. "Before I release your gag to learn if you have anything useful to say, let us be clear on a couple of points. John and Theodore will ensure you are bound and will prevent you from even thinking of escape, so you had best put that from your mind."

? Theodore punctuated Bennet's words by cracking his knuckles, which would have brought a laugh to Bennet's lips under other circumstances. Little though he appeared moved by it, Bennet was certain Wickham had understood the threat.

? "Furthermore, you should know that the crime of assaulting a gentlewoman, the sister of a prominent man and the niece of an earl, no less, may see you to the gallows."

? A grimace was Wickham's response, to which Bennet nodded with satisfaction.

? "Of course," continued Bennet in a conversational tone, "it is possible that Darcy will settle on seeing your life become a living hell instead, and if he did, I would not gainsay him. You are not prepared to meet God in your present condition; perhaps working off your crimes for twenty or thirty years would lead you to repentance enough to avoid shrinking in despair when you are in His presence. I would not presume to speak for God in this instance, for though I lived as one of his mouthpieces for many years, I never supposed I was anything other than a servant.

? "Let there be no protestations of innocence or charges about this living from Darcy's father, for I do not wish to hear anything of it and know it is a half-truth regardless. I have a few questions I would like you to answer, so I shall ask John to remove your gag."

? With a nod at John, Bennet waited while he removed the cloth. Mr. Wickham was, Bennet supposed, a handsome man when he took the trouble to be so. This must account for his apparent success in doing what he had all these years and escaping serious punishment. It was, of course, ruined by his murderous glare, but Bennet supposed a man could not always maintain a mask, especially in the face of circumstances sufficient to endanger one's future freedom.

? "Now, my first question is about your fellows. While I cannot imagine any others of Colonel Forster's officers are foolish enough to join you in such an audacious plan, I also cannot dismiss it. So, I put it to you—did you act alone?"

? "The master asked you a question," snarled John when Wickham did not answer at once, to the sound of Theodore's knuckles again making ominous sounds resembling splintering bones. Bennet had to hide a smile—John and Theodore both understood his wishes and would do nothing without his express instruction. While they both knew that, however, Wickham did not.

? Wickham glared at them before offering a grudging "I acted alone" in response.

? "As I expected. Now, what did you hope to accomplish? Even a man so self-absorbed as you appear to be must understand that even if you had made off with her, Darcy and Fitzwilliam would never allow you to marry her."

? "Georgiana loves me." A measure of confidence seeped into his voice, as well as a further sense of defiance. "She told me herself. Her brother has poisoned her against me—if I had a few moments in her company, I know I could reawaken her love."

? Bennet snorted with disdain, earning a further scowl from his prisoner. "Perhaps she might have said as much when presented with a deceiver coupled with her traitorous lady's companion, but I dare say she has recovered from that ailment. That, of course, says nothing of the damage to her supposed regard for you occasioned by your actions to abduct her from my house."

? The glare turned murderous again, but Bennet was not concerned with the state of Wickham's offense. "You are not foolish enough to believe Darcy would not have taken England apart to find you, so I suppose your game was ransom. Regardless, there is no reason to continue this conversation."

? "Take him to the stable and see that he is secure," instructed Bennet of his two footmen. "Watch over him in shifts. He is not to escape."

? "Trust us, Mr. Bennet," said Theodore, his voice deeper and more menacing than John's, "‘e will not escape."

? "He will not be alone for even an instant," added John.

? For a wonder, Wickham said nothing as the footmen removed him from the house, though his menacing glare at Bennet never altered. When he was gone, Bennet shook his head and turned to Whitmore.

? "In the morning, we must hand Wickham's custody to the jailor at first light."

? "I will take care of it, Mr. Bennet," replied Whitmore with a tight nod. "I will also alert Colonel Forster to his officer's whereabouts."

? "Good man," said Bennet.

? After exchanging a few more words, Whitmore excused himself allowing Bennet to return to his room. There were no lights under his daughters' doors, though Bennet supposed they would all find difficulty in returning to slumber. With a shake of his head, Bennet entered his room, hoping to find further rest, though not expecting it.

What Darcy felt upon returning to Hertfordshire that day mirrored Bennet's thoughts on the subject. George Wickham had long been a painful burden on Darcy's shoulders, one he had thought to divest upon his father's death. Whatever Darcy had wanted, however, Wickham had his own ideas, and living the life of a gentleman, as he supposed, was what he wished, a life he had always been determined to obtain for himself regardless of the cost. The betrayal at Ramsgate had been the final straw, and one that begged for vengeance. To assault Georgiana in her room at Longbourn and attempt to abduct her was so far beyond decency as to seal Wickham's fate.

? "I hope you will allow me to do what we should have done years ago," snarled Fitzwilliam when they were again in the carriage, the housekeeper at Netherfield having delivered the letter Bingley sent from Longbourn earlier that day, detailing a brief account of what had happened. "When I see him again, I swear I will tie the noose myself and hang Wickham from the highest tree I can find."

? "Do not be ridiculous!" snapped Darcy, glaring at his cousin. "I declined to pursue him before for the memory of my father. That ended at Ramsgate and has expired with this latest attempt."

? "Good," said Fitzwilliam, never one to mince words.

? It was the last word spoken between the cousins on the way to Longbourn, for each concentrated on their own thoughts. For Darcy, the need to see his sister and assure himself of her safety was paramount, competing with his desire to see Elizabeth. Whatever else happened, Darcy had not yet engaged himself to her, an oversight he meant to rectify. Though the distance to the neighboring estate was short, it seemed like an age before the carriage rolled to a stop. A moment later, Darcy was within, holding his sister in his arms, though she appeared to be none the worse for wear.

? "I am well, William," said a laughing Georgiana when he had asked her for perhaps the third time. "Mr. Wickham's attempts woke Elizabeth, and she roused the house in my defense. Truly, I am well. I am only eager to ensure that Mr. Wickham pays for his crimes."

? "Trust me on that score, Georgiana," replied Fitzwilliam. "Nothing will save Wickham from receiving his just deserts."

? "He is in the town jail?" asked Darcy.

? "Since first light this morning." Bennet offered a thin smile. "Our constable is a no-nonsense sort of man. Wickham's tongue might even land him in further trouble if he pushes it, and the deputies are large and serious men."

? "Good," said Fitzwilliam. "A few bruises would enhance Wickham's appearance."

? "While I cannot, given my previous profession, condone such sentiments, I empathize with your position, Colonel."

? Fitzwilliam shared a fierce grin with Bennet.

? "What you must now consider," continued Bennet, "is the best punishment for him. As I told him myself, attempting to abduct the niece of a peer is enough to see him to the gallows. Some might say that punishment is far too easy, that it would be better to draw his suffering out—perhaps it may even do him some good. At the very least, such a time to repent may improve his eternal welfare."

? "If you will pardon me," replied Fitzwilliam, "I would much prefer to remove George Wickham from any ability to wreak havoc again. Wickham moldering in a pauper's grave will do that nicely."

? "As would Wickham's residence in the penal colony," replied Darcy.

? "Even on the other side of the world," disagreed Fitzwilliam, "there would still be a chance, however minute, that he could return. At that point he would be desperate for vengeance."

? "That is a decision I will leave to you," said Bennet. "Though I suspect your father will say something on the subject."

? Fitzwilliam turned to Bennet and gave a tight nod. Darcy, having assured himself of Georgiana's wellbeing, could no longer hold himself in check. He turned at once to Miss Elizabeth and approached her, taking her hands in his and kissing them, while inspecting her for any damage.

? "There is nothing the matter with me, Mr. Darcy," laughed she, seeing his concern. "I was well clear of the unpleasantness. The only credit I can take in this business is for being a light sleeper, though that is unusual. From there, it was a simple matter to summon John and Theodore, who did the rest."

? "If you do not mind, Bennet," said Darcy, "I wish to show my appreciation to your excellent staff for their timely intervention."

? "They will appreciate the gesture, I am sure," said Bennet.

? With that, Darcy sat amongst them and listened as they related the full story of the previous evening's events, including Bennet's account of his confrontation with Wickham. It was, Darcy was forced to acknowledge, an audacious plan, the likes of which only a man of supreme confidence could plan and execute without losing his nerve. It seemed the man he had known years before, who he had always considered a coward, had gained a measure of mettle in the intervening years.

? "He entered through the window in the dining-room," said Bennet when Darcy asked on the subject. "I had no notion the latch was so loose and cannot imagine how Wickham learned of it. John has already repaired it, and we have undertaken a survey of the property to discover any other deficiencies."

? Bennet, Darcy noticed, was sitting close to Miss Bingley, the two appearing comfortable with each other. As Darcy had a vague notion of some partiality before he departed, he wondered if anything had happened on that front. Bingley was, as usual, with Miss Bennet, though there appeared to be no developments between them.

? "That is for the best," rumbled Fitzwilliam in approval. "As a commander, one of my first tasks in the field is to ensure the camp is secure. It must be the same for a gentleman's estate."

? "It is the unfortunate fact of the situation," replied Bennet, shaking his head. "Longbourn was in such a state of neglect that we are only beginning to resolve the issues that plagued it. There are many more we still must see to."

? Then Bennet turned to Darcy. "I have seen your glances, young man, so I propose we move to other matters. Miss Bingley has done me the singular honor—showing her good sense! —of giving an affirmative answer to my proposal of marriage. Miss Bingley has agreed to be my wife."

? "Good sense, indeed!" said Miss Bingley, much to the company's mirth.

? To Darcy's interest, Miss Caroline appeared sanguine about the matter. Oh, he would not have expected her to throw a tantrum, but her ambitions in society were not a mystery. To see her watching her sister with complacency was interesting to say the least. Darcy and Fitzwilliam offered their congratulations as warmly as expected in such circumstances, until Bingley interrupted.

? "The business is remarkably rushed in my opinion. Why, I have not even come to the point with Miss Bennet yet!"

? General mirth met Bingley's statement, but the right of response was Bennet's. "That is your trouble, Bingley. I have neither the inclination for a long season of courtship nor the patience to endure it, being a man with daughters full grown."

? "I do not blame you, Bennet," said Darcy, his eyes finding and never leaving Miss Elizabeth's face. "The season of courtship becomes stale if drawn out too long."

? "Then what do you mean to do about it, sir?" asked Miss Elizabeth, arching her brow in that manner he found so delightful.

? "I promise you will not wait long to discover."

? Darcy turned back to Bennet. "As for our errand in Kent, I am pleased to inform you that Lady Catherine knows what she will face if she persists in this ridiculous intention to sue you on your cousin's behalf."

? "Is that so? Then your intuition about her was not incorrect?"

? "Not at all. She was the instigator of it all, as we speculated. Collins not only has no wish to wrest Longbourn from your grasp but appears to be happy with his situation. Unfortunately, he also has a healthy respect for Lady Catherine's temper and knows she has a certain power over him she will not hesitate to use."

? "If there was some way to remove him from Lady Catherine's influence," said Fitzwilliam, "her suit would dry on the vine. No magistrate will hear a case on behalf of another if the principal of the matter will not even support it."

? Bennet appeared thoughtful. "Do you suppose my cousin would move from your aunt's domain if he had another option?"

? "Longbourn church?" guessed Darcy. "Did you not say the parson there wished to retire?"

? "Yes, and I have been derelict in seeing to it. Perhaps I shall write to my cousin and offer him the living. It may not be so large or valuable as the parish attached to your aunt's estate, but at least he will no longer subsist under her authority."

? "An excellent suggestion, Bennet," approved Darcy. "Collins will accept—that I do not doubt. He does not appear the type to covet wealth."

? "Away from Lady Catherine, he may even have the means to marry."

? "Perhaps," said Bennet, not wishing to discuss another man's marital status.

? "One thing I can promise," said Fitzwilliam to Bennet. "My father will not appreciate Lady Catherine's interference in this matter. When we return to Netherfield, I shall write to him and inform him of all that has happened. The matter with Wickham will infuriate him, and he is well aware of Lady Catherine's compulsion to meddle."

? Bennet nodded. "Can I suppose that Lady Catherine is now aware of your particular situation?"

? "I said nothing of Miss Elizabeth," replied Darcy. "However, I left her in no doubt of my wishes regarding her daughter. Whether she accepts what I told her is yet an open question, but as I intend to do little more than open her letters, her no doubt copious words on the subject will avail her little."

? "Had I any doubt, I would not allow the attention you have paid to her."

? Darcy grinned at Bennet and nodded. As the conversation welled up around him, he turned his attention to Miss Elizabeth and stayed in her company the rest of the day and during the dinner hour. While Darcy meant to see Wickham dealt with, he had no interest in visiting the jail and enduring his pleas for mercy. Thus, there was little more than his ultimate disposition to consider. For now, the woman by his side held his full attention.