“You do not want to interfere with my plans. I will not only find a way to ruin you, but I will ruin your precious sister.” Wickham’s lips twisted into a nasty sneer as he stepped closer, the putrid smell of stale liquor from his breath mingling with the air Darcy inhaled. “Her virtue will be a distant memory by the time I am through.”
“With what proof? One walk on the waterfront does not a ruined reputation make.”
Wickham snickered. “Since when does society require proof? The right rumours placed in the right ears could do more harm than the truth within the drawing rooms of the Ton.”
He shook his head and gave a bark of laughter. “Do your best, Wickham. Your ruination of Georgiana would result in the loss of your only means of support. Without my father, you are homeless—no, you are penniless. Your actions have repercussions, and in this instance, dire repercussions. You had best consider your schemes before you implement them.”
“My plan was progressing as it should prior to your arrival. You always ruin everything, Darcy.”
“I do not consider myself as being the ruination of anything. In this case, I am the means of preventing a catastrophe. You would destroy Georgiana’s life and her spirit.”
“Spare me your dramatics! Once I put her in the family way, I would find other amusements. Your little sister would probably be as dry and boring in bed as you are just existing.”
To hell with the onlookers! Darcy took one step forward crossing Wickham’s jaw with a crushing blow, the force of which brought him to his knees. He took one disgusted look at Wickham, who was upon all fours on the cobblestones, and began to walk in the direction of the house. He had not made it far when a hand grabbed his arm and whirled him around.
He managed to grasp Wickham’s shoulder as he dodged his blow, slamming him face down to the ground. Wickham continued to fight, but Darcy placed a knee in his back and pinned him to the hard stones.
“My cousin the colonel took me under his wing some time ago. I will no longer allow you to hurt me or anyone who falls under my protection. As Georgiana’s brother, I will protect her whether my father has banned me from Pemberley or not.”
Despite being face down to the ground and stuck there, Wickham attempted to rise and lash out at Darcy. “Return your sister to her house within the next four hours, and I will not harm her reputation. Yours I cannot guarantee. You should not have struck me!”
“Do your worst, Wickham. I am not afraid of you.” Pressing his knee a bit firmer into his nemesis’ spine for leverage on top of spite, he stood, stepped back, and strode away with a firm tug to the base of his topcoat.
A glance back revealed a few bystanders; however, they did not aid Wickham, and continued on with their business. He walked at a brisk pace past their street to ensure no one trailed behind him, before returning to the house.
When he entered the front door, Elizabeth’s voice mingled with his sister’s from the drawing room; he handed off his gloves and hat to the butler and followed the precious sounds.
“Fitzwilliam!” Georgiana exclaimed when she noticed his presence. She rushed over to embrace him, and held fast to him as he returned the gesture. “I was so worried. I did not want to leave you with Wickham, but Elizabeth insisted.”
“Elizabeth was correct. I am glad you listened to her direction.” He drew back, caught her eye, and held her gaze. “He lost any power he had to hurt me when you departed.”
Her forehead creased. “But he could have injured you.”
“I can defend myself, Georgie, which is easier done if I do not have you and Elizabeth as distractions. If Wickham chose to revenge himself on me by hurting one of you, I would be devastated. It was preferable for you to be gone.”
She sniffed and brought her handkerchief to her eyes. “I had not thought of it so.”
“I did not wish to leave either,” confessed Elizabeth. “Did the footmen I sent find you?”
“No, I never saw them, but I walked down the waterfront past the house to make sure Wickham did not follow.” He led Georgiana back to her seat and leaned over to press his lips to Elizabeth’s temple.
“I am relieved you have returned in one piece.”
“I have learned a great deal since I left Pemberley. He cannot inflict the damage he once wrought.”
He took a place beside Elizabeth and examined Georgiana, who shrank back into the cushions under the scrutiny. “I need to know if you have ever been alone with Wickham.”
“Other than this morning?” asked Georgiana softly.
“Yes, other than this morning. What about when he came around in London?”
She shook her head. “No, he did try, but I demanded Mrs. Younge remain. She once insisted she could not walk in Hyde Park with us, but I summoned my maid to replace her.”
Elizabeth reached out and took his sister’s hands in hers. “I bet neither Mrs. Younge nor Mr. Wickham were thrilled.”
“No, Mr. Wickham was displeased. He did not say as much, but it was evident in his expression.”
“Georgie! I heard from Sarah you had arrived with Elizabeth.” His worried grandmother strode into the room to greet her granddaughter.
“We happened upon her as she walked out with Mr. Wickham,” explained Elizabeth.
His grandmother’s nostrils flared and her hands clenched at her sides. She turned to Darcy with narrowed eyes. “Where was Mrs. Younge?”
He shrugged. “She was not present.”
“Mrs. Younge professed to feeling unwell and insisted that she remain behind.” His sister’s gaze darted back and forth between them.
“I must go make arrangements for your trunk to be delivered.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck. “We must leave at first light.”
Elizabeth made to speak, but it took more than one attempt for the sound to emerge. “Thomas has done very well with travel thus far, but he must have a few days at least before we set out again. He sleeps so much in the carriage that Mary and I have a difficult time when we arrive. Must we depart with such haste?”
“I wish we could delay, but Wickham has threatened to write my father. He has also threatened Georgie’s reputation should I not return her to her establishment.” His sister’s eyes welled with tears. He should not have been so blunt. “I apologise, Georgie, but we must contact Father. He is the only person who can prevent Wickham from speaking.”
“But he is returning to Pemberley and will be difficult to reach until he arrives.”
“I am aware of that. I also believe a hasty departure from Ramsgate will give the appearance of you having left with him.”
“We could make her stay with us very public.” His grandmother lifted her brow. “No one would give Wickham’s stories any consideration if she has been seen with us for the remainder of our stay.”
“There is still the possibility of Wickham contacting my father.” He stood and began to pace. “He would spin his own tale and win father over. We would never convince him of Wickham’s scheme should he precede us to Derbyshire.”
He continued to stride to and fro until Elizabeth’s voice broke through the jumble. “How long has Mr. Wickham been in Ramsgate?”
“Pardon?” He halted at his spot and stared.
“From what you have told me, Mr. Wickham often amasses large debts beyond what your father’s allowance covers. Did you not say he is no longer welcome in Lambton?”
He nodded and took a step towards his wife. “Yes, when I paid off his last round of debts, I informed the Lambton merchants I would no longer cover Wickham’s future spending. They refused to extend him credit from that day forward.”
“Is it not possible that he has amassed some debts here already—particularly if he has resided here for a week or so whilst he awaited your father’s departure?”
A light beamed from his grandmother’s eyes as her face broke into a wide smile. “That is an excellent idea, Lizzy.”
“You wish me to have him imprisoned for his debts?”
“Yes,�
� she replied. “It would afford us some time before we journey to Pemberley. We could give Thomas the few days he requires, and take our time as we travel north.”
His grandmother’s expression read of steely determination. “Fitzwilliam, take James and search out where Wickham stayed or is staying. He would not have wished George to be aware of his arrival, so he would remain at an inn. His dissolute habits would no doubt give him a substantial bill.”
“Very well, I will see what I can find. Georgiana, you are not to leave this house until I have solved the immediate problem, or we depart on the morrow.”
She wiped her red-rimmed eyes with her handkerchief and sniffled. “Of course! I only wish I was not such a bother.”
He rushed forward and kneeled before her, grasping her shoulders. “You are not a bother! It is Wickham who has caused all of this fuss—Wickham and Mrs. Younge.” His father also played a part, but it was perhaps better to remain silent on that point. “Do not think I have forgotten her part! She will never work as a companion again!”
Elizabeth slipped from the room, but he remained. “Do you understand, Georgie? You are not to blame for any of this. Mrs. Younge has used you ill, and Wickham’s scheme was to convince you to elope.”
“Elope!” exclaimed his grandmother. “God forbid!”
“I would never!” Georgie gasped as she shook her head. “Why would he think…?”
“He can be very persuasive when he is motivated. A large dowry was his prize, and he will not relinquish it without a fight. He expects your return within a few hours, or he will ruin your reputation and send an express to Father.”
His grandmother leaned forward in her seat as though she were about to spring from her chair. “Then you should find James and be on your way. You do not have a second to lose.”
As he rose, Elizabeth came in bearing not only a huge grin, but also Thomas, who stared at everyone with wide, round eyes. “I brought someone to cheer up the conversation. No one can discuss such serious topics in the presence of a baby.”
His sister bounded up and exclaimed over her new nephew. A loud kiss was placed on his forehead prompting a wide toothless smile. His son was certain to enjoy the unceasing attention he would receive over the next hour.
He pressed his lips against his wife’s cheek, and left the ladies to their cooing to search out James. His valet was not difficult to locate, and was not at all averse to the abandonment of his master’s shoes for the morning. He could shine them later.
It took almost an hour to locate the inn where Wickham had resided for the past week. James had practically sprinted back to find Darcy after his initial conversation with the innkeeper, and they proceeded with all haste to return.
“He snuck out this mornin.’ I am still tryin’ to figure out how ‘e got his trunk an’ all past me. If ‘e can do it, some other rascal could do it, too. I can’t be affordin’ tha!”
“So, he had not paid prior to his departure?”
“Nah, left quite a bill, ‘e did—five nights, several day’s worth a meals, and all tha’ ale ‘e done drank.”
“I would like to pay for the debt, Mr. Clarke, if you would allow it.”
“Well, I wouldn’ be turnin’ ya down.” The innkeeper observed him for a moment while he rummaged for the appropriate payment. “He owes you money as well?”
“Of sorts.” With a lift of his shoulders, he glimpsed at the tally placed before him. “I have often paid his debts, but more importantly, he has caused me and my family a great deal of grief over the years.”
Mr. Clarke took the money Darcy handed him, and proffered the marker. “I hope you be findin’ a way to get rid of ’im.” The innkeeper leaned across the bar and pointed across the street. “He got ‘imself a new suit. I suppose the one ‘e ‘ad wasn’t good enough for what ‘e ‘ad planned.”
James exited, headed to the tailor’s shop Mr. Clarke had bobbed his head towards, while Darcy extended his arm to shake the innkeeper’s hand.
“Thank you for the information.” An extra crown was placed upon the counter and the man’s jaw dropped.
“Thank you, sir. If you be needin’ anythin.’”
With a curt nod, he exited the inn as James waved him over to the tailor’s shop where Wickham had indeed acquired quite a debt, since he used the finest materials that particular tradesman stocked.
James frowned as he watched Darcy pay. “He always did put on airs, that one.”
“My father did nothing to discourage the belief. It is as much his fault as it is Wickham’s for wilfully deceiving himself.”
James agreed as Darcy received the slip of paper, which increased Wickham’s debt to a substantial figure for just one week. The constables, Mr. Poore and Mr. Barrett, were brought into the situation, accompanying him to his sister’s lodgings, while James reluctantly returned to shining his master’s shoes.
Without question, he and the constables were admitted to the front hallway where they handed the aged butler their hats and gloves.
He passed a slip of paper with the direction to the house. “Miss Darcy’s belongings and her maid will be sent to this residence. She will be remaining with her grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Matlock, and myself for the remainder of her time in Ramsgate.”
The elderly man balked and stared. “I beg your pardon, sir, but Mrs. Younge informed us that Miss Darcy is not to be in your company. She indicated it would result in the loss of our employment.”
“You are denying her brother and her grandmother access on the word of a paid companion?” questioned Mr. Poore from behind him.
With a tilt down, so he was eye to eye with the butler, Darcy clenched his jaw. “Mrs. Younge will never have employment as a companion again after I am finished with her. She will be fortunate to find a position scrubbing chamber pots.”
A snicker came from Mr. Poore as he stepped forward. “I would do the bidding of the brother—your loyalty to the companion will bring you naught but disappointment.”
“Of course, sir.” The butler’s response was a mumble as he bowed and then, led them to a parlour where Mrs. Younge was having tea with none other than Mr. Wickham.
“See, I told you he would see sense.” Wickham rose with a wide grin and stepped to the side to look behind him. “I say, Darcy, where is Georgie?”
The butler gave Wickham a distasteful look and departed the room.
“She will not return to this house. I have taken the liberty of paying your debts, Wickham. These two gentleman are here to take you to prison.”
His complexion paled a notch, but otherwise, his visage was composed. “You had best give this more consideration. I will ruin your precious Georgiana and anyone else you deem important.”
“Georgiana’s ruination would hardly garner you any aid from my father, and one letter to my steward could ensure you are jailed for a very long time.”
Wickham’s face screwed into a nasty jeer. “You are bluffing.”
“I have a record of all of your debts to me at Sagemore. I could easily have you transported to London and see you placed in debtor’s prison there. The Marshalsea might teach you some humility—a quality you have always lacked.”
As his plans crumbled before him, Wickham became furious. “You will regret this! I will not just disappear.”
Darcy shrugged in a nonchalant manner while he roiled inside. Wickham could not know how anxious he was if this plan was to succeed. “Your disappearance is more than I could ever hope for, but alas, I know you will never willingly depart. I will find a way to prove to my father what you are, and he will deal with the leech he has created.”
Wickham lunged for him. “You bastard! I deserve more after licking your father’s boots for all of these years! I deserve to be counted as his son since you left him and your inheritance behind as if it were trash!”
The constables stepped forward and grasped Wickham by his arms before he could harm Darcy, but the miscreant continued to fight against their restraint. “Y
ou cannot do this! I do not owe anything of significance here in Ramsgate!”
“I’d wager one of those debts was for this fancy new suit you’re wearing,” mentioned the constable. “The tailor’s bill alone for this rag would do, but you also ran up a large tab at The Bull. Mr. Darcy has enough—unless you have the funds to pay your debt in full; but then, you might want to consider keeping your money for food whilst in prison. There are no free meals to be had there either.”
Wickham reddened. “You should consider what you are doing, Darcy. I cannot be held in there forever. Lettie will see me out as soon as she can manage it.”
Mrs. Younge’s eyes widened. “Yes, of course I will, George.”
With a pivot in her direction, Darcy stepped towards his sister’s companion. “You had best think of your own future, Mrs. Younge. Neither my father nor I will write you a recommendation as things stand, but we can blacken your name amongst the Ton. You would never be a paid companion again—not that you should have ever been in such a trusted position in the first place.”
“I have spent the night in the same home as Georgiana,” cried Wickham with desperation. “In London, I returned to the house when your father left for Pemberley.”
Darcy shook his head. “And every servant in the house could testify that Mrs. Younge was there as well. Not only was Mrs. Younge in residence, but for the short time you resided in the same home, Georgiana requested her maid sleep in her bedchamber.”
Wickham’s face blanched as he jerked in an attempt to gain his freedom, and Mrs. Younge grimaced. “That was the reason for the cot beside her bed.”
“Mr. Poole, I have nothing further to say to Mr. Wickham. I will be in touch in approximately a fortnight when I learn of how my father wishes to proceed.”
The constable agreed, and he and his partner began to tug their unwilling prisoner from the room. Wickham hollered and fought with the authorities, but by the time they had wrangled him to the outer door, he quieted—likely to avoid a public scene. The man was always a schemer. Such a public display of him being taken to prison would not serve him well in the future.
An Unwavering Trust Page 44