by Pamela Aidan
“My dear sir,” Mr. Gardiner protested, “I can find no place for blame! How were you to prevent his arrival in Meryton or predict his seduction of my niece in Brighton? Pardon me, you are very kind; but you take too much upon yourself!”
“I wish it were true,” Darcy replied, “that I came here with only a delicate conscience to assuage. To my discredit, it is not so.” He breathed in deeply, dreading the confession that had to be made. “Wickham disappeared from my notice for several years until intruding upon it in a way that threatened my own family and name. Mr. Gardiner.” He looked him in the eye. “May I return your compliment on my discretion with reliance upon yours?”
“Certainly, sir!” his hearer replied firmly. “Completely!”
“I returned from visiting friends last year just in time to prevent Wickham from accomplishing his designs upon Miss Darcy.”
“Good Heavens!” Mr. Gardiner passed a hand through his thinning hair. “Oh, the despicable wretch! Then, no wonder Lydia…Why, he is a practiced seducer!”
“Exactly so. He can be very plausible, deceiving most until it is too late.”
“What did you do then, upon discovering him?”
“I did not know what to do, except to save my sister’s reputation and avert family disgrace. I chose to warn him away and to say nothing, hoping that that would be an end to it. A false hope, an absurd hope.” His voice was full of scorn at his folly. “As I should have known! I merely freed him to prey upon others.”
“But this is understandable, sir. What could you have done that would not have resulted in pain for Miss Darcy?”
“Perhaps, if I had not been too proud to ask for advice from wiser heads than mine, there might have been something. But I did not, abhorring the thought that my private affairs would become subject to common gossip.” Darcy looked away from his listener and sighed. “I fear that I am too long in justifying myself, which is not why I have come.” He rose and began to pace about the room. “So, you may imagine my shock when, arriving in Hertfordshire with my friend last autumn, I found Wickham among the favored in Meryton society. As I said, he can be charming and very plausible, especially to females. I, on the other hand, made little effort to make myself agreeable in a society unknown to me. It is a failing of which Miss Elizabeth Bennet has been so kind as to apprise me.”
“Oh, dear.” Mr. Gardiner shook his head. “Lizzy’s wit is not checked by as much discretion as I would wish, but she will be the first to admit her fault…once she is convinced of it.”
“No, she has done me a kindness; that and many more. To continue — and this is the telling point…” Darcy stopped his pacing and stood before his listener, humble. “Because of my reserve and misplaced pride, I did not disclose his character. If it had been known, Wickham could not have gained acceptance into Meryton society. Young women such as your niece would have shunned his company, and fathers would have shielded their daughters. Instead, I chose the course of my own convenience, and your niece and your family have suffered for it. I hold myself entirely to blame and entirely responsible to see that what can be done to make it right is accomplished.”
Mr. Gardiner had listened to him with great patience. Even now, he sat in contemplation of all Darcy said without uttering one word of richly deserved condemnation. Darcy waited.
Finally, the man raised his eyes to his face. “There may be some blame in your actions, or inaction, young man, but I cannot find it to the degree that you believe. Others, closer to the events, have more to answer for, I believe, than do you. If you have come to know yourself better, that is to be lauded; but do not, I beg you, take the entirety of this upon your conscience.”
Darcy bowed. “You are more kind than I deserve, but I cannot excuse myself. To that end, I left Derbyshire only a day later than yourselves and have been in London with the sole purpose of finding your niece and restoring her to her family.”
“As have I, Mr. Darcy. A frustrating business!” Mr. Gardiner sank back into the settee, shaking his head. “It is as if they have been swallowed up. It has so agitated my brother Bennet that I insisted upon his returning to Hertfordshire.”
“That is my principal reason for coming to you, sir. I have found them.”
“Found them! My dear sir!” Mr. Gardiner bounded from the settee and took him by the arm. “Where? How?”
“It is better you do not know where,” Darcy replied earnestly, “and the how is immaterial now. They are found, and I have talked to them both. Your niece is well.”
“Truly? I had such fears.” He passed a hand over his eyes and turned away to compose himself.
Darcy waited for a few moments before continuing. “She is well but adamant that she will not leave Wickham. He admitted to me privately that he never had any intention of marrying her.”
“Black-hearted devil!” Mr. Gardiner cried, turning around.
“Many have said so, and as such he is best dealt with. I have impressed upon him the necessity of doing right by your niece.”
“Not by an appeal to conscience, surely!” Mr. Gardiner pressed him. “You have gained the upper hand in some other way — financially, I would guess. Am I correct?”
“I hold all his debts.”
“Ah!” Mr. Gardiner responded. “Incentive, to be sure; but I would allow that this would not be enough to induce him. Why, he could promise anything and, when you have paid his creditors, just disappear!” He threw out his hands. “Could he not, even now, be gone?”
“He is being watched, sir, and can make no move without detection. This he knows. He knows, as well, that if he does so he will be disclosed to his colonel for arrest and court-martial. No, he will not bolt.”
“Good Heavens, sir!” Overcome with emotion, Mr. Gardiner took his hand and shook it vigorously. “You have done more than anyone…” He gulped. “You must disclose all the expense to which you have gone, and I promise it shall be paid back to you.”
Darcy drew back. “I will not, sir. The sum goes far beyond Wickham’s debts. If your niece’s future is to be secure, more must be done, if you will forgive my impertinence, than either you or her father is able.”
“No matter,” Mr. Gardiner replied sharply. “It is for her relations to retrieve her character and bear the expense of it.”
“I understand, sir, and only wish I could bow to your demand.” He returned Mr. Gardiner’s fierce eye with his own. “But it cannot be.”
“Umph!” his host snorted after a time. “We shall see! What is to be done then? I must be of some use!”
Darcy relaxed and resumed his seat. “I leave it to you, sir, to handle your niece’s family, for my part in this must never be revealed to anyone beyond your good wife.” He paused, then leaned toward his host. “Will you consent to receive your niece and keep her until the wedding day? All must appear as if she was married from your house.”
“Of course!” he replied, then added with a small show of indignation, “I believe we are solvent enough to put on a wedding at any rate!”
The warm August light falling softly through the stained-glass windows of St. Clement’s could not have been more perfect, Darcy decided as he stood in the sanctuary door two weeks later. It was likely the only perfection he was to witness in the next few minutes, and he paused to allow it some entry into his breast before looking again to the street. The Gardiners were late. It was uncharacteristic of these relatives of Elizabeth whom he had come to esteem during the course of this tawdry drama, and Darcy supposed he could guess where the blame lay. Sighing, he looked over his shoulder to the door that closed upon the groom. The burly form of Tyke Tanner stood against it, his face a study in wry commiseration at the frustrating drag of time toward the moment when their mission could be declared accomplished. With a brief twitch of a grimace, Darcy turned back to the street. “Take her in hand, sir,” he advised the absent Mr. Gardiner under his breath. “Take her in hand, and we shall be done!” How he longed for it to be over, to be set free in good conscience to
return to Pemberley. As for what was about to take place, he entertained severe doubt that it would redound to his credit. Certainly he could foresee little happiness for the couple involved, but the weight of his duty and the hope of reestablishing Elizabeth’s family in the eyes of her society had held him every day to his course. Soon, all that his name and fortune could rectify would be done.
A carriage turned the corner and swayed to a stop at the foot of the church steps. A much harassed-looking gentleman emerged immediately the steps were let down. Mr. Gardiner’s complexion was decidedly florid as he looked up to the doorway at Darcy, his relief at the sight of him unmistakable. With a nod, he turned back to the carriage and held out his hand to the ladies within. A flurry of skirts and an impossibly high poked bonnet emerged to be handed down to the curb. The bride was followed by the strained but determined figure of Mrs. Gardiner. Darcy’s respect for that lady had grown even more as, during the last weeks, she had worked to impress upon her charge the decorum expected of a respectable young wife.
The small party mounted the steps, Mr. Gardiner reaching out his hand to clasp Darcy’s.
“Mr. Gardiner.” Darcy inclined his head in respect as well as courtesy. “It is well with you?” He cast his eyes briefly toward the bride. “With all of you?”
“Mr. Darcy,” the elder man responded, a slight hitch to his breath from the ascent, “your servant, sir. An unexpected matter detained us, but yes, we are all well and ready to proceed. And on your part, sir?”
“There should be no problem. The groom is prepared. Shall we go in?”
“As soon as may be,” returned Mr. Gardiner. “Please God that this business is concluded quickly and duty discharged.” Darcy nodded his complete agreement with the sentiments and turned to greet the man’s good wife and the prospective bride.
“Where is Wickham?” Lydia Bennet interrupted from under the wide brim of her ridiculous bonnet and strained to look beyond him into the darkness of the church. “Is he within? Should he not be here?”
Mrs. Gardiner looked up in alarm, and Darcy hastened to reassure them. “Yes, he is here. Will you walk in?” He helped the two women through the doorway, stopping only for a quick nod from Tyke Tanner indicating that Wickham was in position at the front of the sanctuary. He turned to Mrs. Gardiner. “May I escort you, ma’am?” He held out his arm.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” She sighed gratefully as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Thank you for everything.”
“You are very kind, madam,” he began, but his companion tapped his arm.
“No, it is you, sir, who are very kind, as well as a great many other good and admirable qualities.” She smiled up at him in such a way as to call forth an answering smile from his own lips in spite of the flush that was spreading across his face. Looking before them, Mrs. Gardiner sighed once more. “It is such a lovely day. Lydia does not deserve it, the wretched child, but that is the way of it, is it not!” She looked at their surroundings. “Well, if it were not that it would puff up my wayward niece, I could wish that her family was here, at least Jane and Elizabeth.”
They took up a position behind her husband and Lydia and followed them into St. Clement’s sanctuary, traversing with slow steps the central aisle, dappled here and there with colored sunlight pouring from the great windows hung above them. It was a lovely morning, Darcy thought, slowing even more, and far more than Elizabeth’s aunt could imagine did he wish that her desire might have been granted. Would that this were his wedding morning and Elizabeth on his arm! The pleasure and pain of it smote him.
They reached the front of the sanctuary. Dropping his arm, Mrs. Gardiner took her place behind her niece as he took his, just to Wickham’s right. The crisp newness of the bridegroom’s blue coat had lent him a dignity that he assumed with frightening ease there before the minister. The bride blushed and whispered audibly to her aunt, “Is he not handsome?”
“Dearly beloved,” the man opened the service. Wickham’s shoulders drew back. Darcy looked straight ahead lest the battering wisdom of the words being spoken, breaking upon the charade in which he was playing, should betray his face into revealing his thoughts. In shockingly few minutes, it was done. He bent to record himself as witness in the register while Mrs. Gardiner embraced her niece and tepidly shook her new nephew’s hand. Mr. Gardiner bestowed a quick kiss upon the bride’s forehead.
“Well, then,” Mr. Gardiner said, ignoring Wickham’s move to clasp his hand, “I believe all is in readiness at home. Will you share in the wedding breakfast, sir?” he addressed the minister, who politely declined. He turned to Darcy. “I know that you must be away and will not join us save for dinner tomorrow, when this pair are gone.” He extended his hand, and each shook the other’s with a firmness that testified to their mutual regard. “You are very good, Mr. Darcy. It is an honor.” Mr. Gardiner bowed and, calling his wife to his side, descended to the waiting carriage.
“Darcy.” Wickham addressed him.
“Wickham…Mrs. Wickham,” he acknowledged them. Mrs. Wickham curtsied and giggled.
“When will —?” Wickham asked, stepping closer.
“As soon as I arrive home, all will be set into motion,” he murmured. “See to your wife, and it will be well.”
“Of course!” Wickham stepped back and clasped his new wife to his side. “She is worth a great deal to me, is she not?” A new cascade of giggles fell.
“Mrs. Wickham.” Wanting nothing more than to be gone from them both, Darcy bowed quickly to the bride and strode down the stairs to his carriage.
“Home,” he directed his driver.
“Yes, sir,” his coachman answered him as he gathered the reins. Folding up the stairs, the groomsman shut the door, and Darcy’s view of the newly married couple was obscured. Dropping his hat onto the seat, he closed his eyes and stretched, releasing tension in muscles cramped by a tight grip on decorum. Ah, it was good to be in his own carriage again! Traveling about anonymously in noisome hired cabs had held some adventure, but it was over; and he was glad of it. Such intrigue was better left to others who by nature enjoyed it. He must be for Pemberley as soon as possible…as soon as possible. He relaxed into the thought. Pemberley. How he needed to be home!
Chapter 10
Full Circle
Darcy examined the knot of colorful silk that was his driving club’s signature neckcloth, observing in particular the series of knots cascading with deceptive ease into the top of his waistcoat. Club rules decreed that it be arranged precisely so, and no member would be granted entrée to the dinner if it deviated in the slightest degree. Never one to abide such nonsense, Darcy had not attended the Four-and-Go Club’s annual dinner since his induction a number of years before, but tonight was Bingley’s night. Therefore, not only Fletcher’s skill but his memory also had been called upon to produce the required entrance ticket.
“Well done, Fletcher!”
“Thank you, sir.” The valet lowered the hand mirror and placed it carefully on the dressing table. “I only hope that Mr. Bingley’s man can achieve the same result. His last attempt was merely passable.”
“That is why Mr. Bingley will come to Erewile House for your inspection before going to dinner.” Darcy shrugged into the frock coat his valet held up.
“Indeed, sir!” Fletcher replied as he smoothed the shoulders. Darcy could hear the smile of satisfaction in his voice. “I shall await your summons.”
Nodding, Darcy gathered his fob and pocket watch, left his rooms, and proceeded down the stairs to the Small Parlor. The much-longed-for retreat to Pemberley after the Wickham affair had lasted only a week. His Matlock relations had arrived hard upon his return, and most of his time had been spent in their service. Lord and Lady Matlock were not unwelcome guests, and the introduction of his cousin D’Arcy’s new fiancée, a lovely and modest young woman suggested by Her Ladyship, was a pleasure, especially for Georgiana. Darcy managed a few private moments with his sister in which to confide his d
iscovery of Wickham and relate in general terms that the affair had been brought to a successful conclusion. She listened with sympathy and accepted his abbreviated account with a sincere joy that all had ended well for the family of her newest acquaintance. “Might Miss Elizabeth Bennet visit us again?” she asked, but he held out only a weak “Perhaps” as a possibility.
Georgiana’s desire to see Elizabeth again echoed strongly in his own heart. How he longed to know her thoughts, her feelings about all that had transpired! Was she recovered from her pain? Had she returned to her former liveliness, or had the whole affair changed her irrevocably? The frustration of his desire was an ache in his chest. She could never know of his involvement beyond her desperate confession to him that day in Lambton. He had expressed to the Gardiners in the strongest terms that his involvement be kept secret and that Lydia be sworn to silence. The Bennet family was to know nothing. He had, in short, no reasonable expectation of ever seeing her again. It was entirely possible that he would never witness the least result of his efforts. But had he not known that from the first?
“Show him in, Witcher,” Darcy instructed his butler upon Bingley’s announcement at the parlor door. With quick strides, his friend came and, in some perturbation, stood before him and demanded Darcy’s opinion of “this blasted knot.”
“Driving the course under the critique of the country’s most noted horsemen and whips was not half so unnerving as my man’s fiddling with this thing.” He flipped the ends of his silks with contempt.
Darcy laughed. “I have already put Fletcher on notice, Charles. Come, let him set you to rights before the others have at you.”
“I feel at such sixes and sevens,” Bingley confided to him later as Darcy’s carriage pulled away from the curb. “It is not just this.” He motioned to his neckcloth. “Or the scrutiny of the club on my every word until my induction this evening. It is my whole life!” he ended in exasperation.