Fitzwilliam and the servants loaded the three men on packhorses, trained to follow only the lead horse, while Darcy and Bingley looked on. Darcy was of two minds about coming at all: He trusted Fitzwilliam to ensure they had a smooth departure, but a part of him needed to see with his own eyes that Wickham was well away. In addition, his temper was uncertain this morning, and he did not know if he could stomach a confrontation with Wickham and confront Miss Bingley. Were it not for the respite Elizabeth had provided this morning, he was certain he could not have managed either of the schemers with any semblance of tranquillity.
Fortunately, the transfer appeared to be going relatively smoothly. Mr. Havener and Mr. Nimbleton mounted their horses willingly, apparently either resigned to their fate or looking forward to the prospect of new opportunities. Given what Tommy had told them of their descent into petty thievery after losing their families, Darcy hoped it was the latter.
“Darcy!” Wickham cried as soon as he saw him. “Thank God! I knew you would not go through with your threat.”
Darcy did not reply.
Fitzwilliam bared his teeth at the man. “He has not changed his mind, you idiot! Now, would you prefer to get on the horse, or shall we find a grave?”
Wickham paled. “Darcy?”
Darcy shook his head. “You have brought this on yourself, Wickham. I hope you take this opportunity to make something of yourself.”
Wickham swore and spat towards Darcy.
Fitzwilliam cuffed him, and Wickham reeled, unsteady with his arms bound. “Now, what’s your choice?”
Wickham’s eyes darted from one expressionless face to the other and then back to Fitzwilliam who had removed his pistol. Glaring and spewing profanities, Wickham allowed himself to be loaded onto the packhorse.
Darcy sighed.
Fitzwilliam strode over. “Don’t worry. We’ll manage him well enough.”
“Safe travels,” Darcy said, clasping his cousin’s arm.
“Good luck. I’ll return in two or three days to finalise the paperwork with Colonel Forster.”
Darcy nodded. “I shall look forward to your return.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Fitzwilliam teased before turning to Bingley.
Darcy snorted. That would leave the field wide open for any number of shenanigans were he so inclined.
After Fitzwilliam and Bingley had completed their farewells, Darcy and his friend rode with the group as far as the turnoff. Wickham had continued a steady stream of imprecations seasoned with periods of bargaining throughout, but, after Fitzwilliam’s threats, he had at least kept his harangue to a low volume. Darcy and Bingley had left the group and were almost within sight of Netherfield when Bingley pulled his horse to a halt.
“Bingley?”
Bingley sighed, his head bowed. “Darcy, what am I going to do?”
“Regarding?” Darcy asked cautiously.
Bingley raked a hand through his hair. “How can I ever repay the Bennets for the harm my sister has caused? And what am I going to do about Caroline?”
Darcy hesitated. He did not wish to make Bingley’s decisions for him. “I believe finding Miss Lydia likely alleviated any resentment the Bennets might have felt. You can only take responsibility for your part in the matter and leave the rest on the shoulders of those to whom it belongs.”
Bingley sighed. “It is my fault. I have allowed Caroline to become so—spoilt that she believes she can harm others in order to get what she wants.”
Darcy suppressed a sigh of exasperation. “Did you instruct your sister to hire Wickham?”
“No.”
“Do you support her decision?”
“No, but—”
“Bingley, you must not take responsibility for that which was outside of your control. How is Miss Bingley to recognise her fault if you bear the weight of it?”
“I know, Darcy, but I ought to have reined her in some time ago. If I had, then we would not have needed to rescue Miss Lydia.”
“Perhaps, but perhaps not. Miss Lydia is responsible for agreeing to run off with Wickham. Wickham is responsible for convincing her to do so. Others besides your sister were involved in the event.”
“But Caroline has gone too far this time!”
“I do not disagree. Miss Bingley has indeed gone too far,” he said in steely tones. “However, you intend to correct your fault, do you not?”
Bingley sighed again. “I do. I only wish I knew what would be best for her and for those who could become entangled in her schemes.”
“What courses of action have you considered?”
Bingley raked a hand through his hair again. “I intend to send her to our aunt in the north. She will be cut off from anything she would call ‘civilization’ there. If she does not reform her behaviour in a year, then I will not consider bringing her back into society until a further two years have passed.”
Darcy’s eyes widened. “You would condemn her to spinsterhood?” Miss Bingley was already practically on the shelf. After three more years, it would be highly unlikely that she would ever find a match.
“If that is what it takes for her to realise that she cannot behave the way she has,” Bingley said wearily. “If the Bennets brought charges, they would have a strong case against Caroline.”
“I highly doubt such an event would occur.”
“As do I—but that does not change the fact that she has become a danger both to herself and to those around her.”
“True.”
“And, if I do not corral her now, I shudder to think what further injury she will inflict,” Bingley said, paling. He straightened. “And I will not allow her to cause further harm to Miss Bennet,” he said fiercely.
“I believe it is wise to give her consequences,” Darcy encouraged his friend. Bingley appeared on the verge of vomiting as he vacillated between rage and anxiety. “You are taking away that which she values above all else: society and the chance to catch a husband. My only suggestion would be to ensure that Miss Bingley is aware of what behaviour she needs to modify in order to regain your approval.”
Bingley sighed. “I would have thought she would know how to behave like a gentlewoman, but, you are right, this latest escapade proves that she does not.”
Darcy hesitated. “Perhaps, as she has taken the ton for role models, she believes such behaviour to be acceptable for a woman of rank and wealth such as she desires to be. Though the ton would scruple to admit their flaws, there are many who have used their position to gain only that which they desire rather than using their influence to help others.” Darcy’s gaze shifted to the distance. “I, too, have been guilty of ordering my life with more concern for my comfort than others’ good.”
“But you are trying to remedy that. I do not believe that Caroline is even aware that she ought to remedy such a thing, despite having gone to one of the finest finishing schools.”
Darcy grimaced. “Many such schools emphasise the outward trappings of a lady over the importance of her character.” It was one of the reasons, in addition to his desire to keep her close, that he had not sent Georgiana away to a school.
Bingley squared his shoulders. “I shall just have to clarify that I desire a character reformation from her—not another veneer of politeness.”
Darcy nodded, unsure of how to encourage his friend. Miss Bingley did not seem likely to make such changes. Of course, neither had he until Elizabeth. But perhaps losing the things she held most dear would cause her to reevaluate her behaviour. Without another word, Bingley urged his horse forward. Darcy followed him, hoping that things would turn out better for Miss Bingley and Miss Lydia than they had for Wickham.
Chapter 44
“Good morning, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley trilled as she entered the room.
After returning to Netherfield and getting cleaned up, Bingley had decided they ought to speak to Miss Bingley in the study and so they had repaired there, fortified themselves for the conversation to come, and Bingley had
sent for his sister.
She halted at the doorway, her smile dropping away as though it had never been there. “Good Heavens! What have you been doing? Are you all right?”
Darcy’s expression hardened, the pain of Wickham’s punch throbbing in response. How dare the woman pretend concern for them when she had instigated the situation!
Bingley also remained silent, his spine straightening.
Miss Bingley hurried to Bingley, one hand outstretched as though she intended to examine his bruises. “Are you all right, Charles?”
Studying her, Darcy thought he detected genuine concern for her brother, reminding him that Miss Bingley had probably not intended for her actions to cause harm to Bingley, despite the results. Much like Miss Lydia, Miss Bingley lacked the ability to measure the consequences of her actions even amidst all her scheming. That fact would not stop him from the harsh consequences he intended to enact, however.
“No, I am not all right,” Bingley said sternly. “I have never been so distressed by your behaviour in all my life.”
Miss Bingley stopped, her hand dropping to her side. “Pardon?”
“How could you, Caroline?”
“How could I what, Charles?” Miss Bingley asked uneasily.
“How could you pay Mr. Wickham to ruin the Bennets? What were you thinking?” Bingley’s voice almost broke. “You are my sister, and you tried to destroy the family of the woman I love.”
Miss Bingley hesitated. “I am afraid that I do not know what you are speaking of. If the Bennets have done something untoward, it is rather a symptom of their own unfitness for society. Louisa and I have often remarked on their tendency toward the uncouth.”
Darcy suppressed a snarl as her face fell into pious lines. She appeared to be on the verge of monologuing about how the Bennets’ unfitness contrasted with her own excellent qualifications.
Bingley stared at her, his gaze hard. “I have given you too much freedom. I thought that your love for your family—I could not imagine that you would pay someone to kidnap another.”
Miss Bingley blanched, but quickly rallied. “Kidnap? One of the Bennets has been kidnapped? Perhaps she has merely run away. If it is one of the younger girls, I would not be surprised to learn they had run off with a soldier, given their licentious behaviour.”
“Perhaps we ought to question your maid,” Darcy said firmly. “I have witnesses who can testify to the assistance she gave Wickham.”
“My maid?” Miss Bingley pressed a hand to her chest as though he had shocked her beyond anything. “What mischief has my maid been engaged in? I assure you that if she has been misbehaving, I shall punish her most severely.”
Bingley shook his head sadly. “I had hoped that you would own up to your faults. I had hoped that my punishment would prove too harsh, but now I am not sure it is harsh enough.” He took a deep breath. “It is difficult for me to understand how much harm you truly intended to cause, but it cannot be denied that Mr. Wickham kidnapped Miss Lydia on your orders.”
“Charles, I—”
Bingley slashed his hand downward. “No! You will not lie to my face any longer. I do not want to hear whatever explanation you have concocted. I would have tried to listen to your side of the story, but you have been unwilling to give it.” He gulped another breath of air. “Therefore, I have no choice but to send you to Aunt Elaine.”
“Aunt Elaine?” Miss Bingley cried.
“Yes,” Bingley said firmly. “You will remain with her for the next year. If you have reformed your behaviour in that time, you will be allowed to return to my household. If not, I shall reconsider the matter three years from now. In addition, as you will not need the fripperies necessary for going about in society, I am cutting your allowance in half.”
“What?” Miss Bingley shrieked. “You would punish me so for something I did not even do?”
“Miss Bingley, there is little doubt that you did indeed pay Wickham to ‘ruin the Bennets,’ ” Darcy interjected. “You chose poorly when you selected him to carry out your orders; he has never been a trustworthy person and has confessed your part in the scheme and detailed your instructions.”
Miss Bingley’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You are as deceived by him as you are by that Bennet harridan!”
“Take care what you say about Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said coldly.
Miss Bingley softened. “She has you under a spell, Mr. Darcy. I know that you do not see it, but pursuing her will only bring about disaster for you.”
Darcy stared at her unblinkingly. “I have warned you of the dangers of hurting the Bennets.”
“Those wretched Bennets have duped you into forgetting your place!” Miss Bingley said. “You are of the ton—you do not belong with such people.”
“You are no longer welcome in any of my homes,” Darcy said.
Miss Bingley gasped as though someone had doused her in frigid water. “What?”
“I will no longer procure invitations for you,” he continued inexorably. “And if you force my hand, I shall publicly cut you.”
She whipped around to face her brother. “Charles! You must do something. See how the Bennets have bewitched him? Mr. Darcy is turning on his closest friends. You must save him and save yourself. You cannot allow them to ruin you!”
Darcy felt as though his face had turned to stone. Miss Bingley’s act was very convincing: either she believed what she was saying or she had determined it the best route to avoid the threatened consequences. Or perhaps it was both.
“No, Caroline. The Bennets have not bewitched either of us. They are gentry, above you and me in status—”
Miss Bingley scoffed. “Their estate is entailed. They are only barely gentry. The girls are penniless flirts who will sink into obscurity before long.”
Darcy drew himself up. “I will not allow you to speak so about the woman whom I am courting. Miss Elizabeth has never thrown herself at me, unlike you, madam.”
Miss Bingley’s eyes went wide. “Courting? When you have been casting lures at me?”
“Miss Bingley, I cannot have made my lack of interest in you any clearer! Even if you were the last woman on earth, I would not marry you, because you lack compassion and wisdom,” he said in wintery tones. “You lack character. I once urged you to engage in a character reformation. I urge you once more: your behaviour has caused damage to others, and if you do not reform, you will alienate everyone in your life and destroy only yourself.”
Miss Bingley stumbled backwards as though he had struck her, then rallied, her chin lifting in defiance. “Mr. Darcy, I am afraid you are the one headed for destruction. Do you truly believe the ton will accept a penniless nobody as Mrs. Darcy?” She gave a brittle laugh. “No, the Darcy name will lose its influence. You will be unwelcome in London, confined to the country. Miss Darcy will be unable to marry well. Miss Eliza will receive wealth and position, and what will you get in return? Her family’s debts?
“You will be tied to people like Mrs. Bennet for the rest of your life. Miss Lydia ran off with Mr. Wickham once—what is to stop her from running off with another soldier? It is inevitable, and the other little Bennet horror always follows in what she does. The Darcy name will be subjected to disgrace of the acutest kind, and if you had any sense at all, you would offer for a woman who can uphold the Darcy name and leave this godforsaken part of the country at once.”
Darcy’s thoughts reeled. Though spoken with greater venom, he recognised her objections: they were the same as those he had made against his attraction to Elizabeth Before. Much of what she said was a real possibility, though he believed such events were worth weathering for the benefit of having Elizabeth as his wife—and, of course, her character would make her a much better Mrs. Darcy than any woman he had ever met. Elizabeth would relish the chance to care for the tenants and the estate; she would be a true ally for Darcy, rather than engaging in the malicious gossip and schemes Miss Bingley and various members of the ton seemed to favour.
“When I heard you say that Mr. Wickham could ruin the Bennets, I had not intended to seek him out, but now I am only sorry that he did not succeed,” Miss Bingley spat, her eyes flashing.
Bingley gasped. “Caroline!”
With a start, Darcy recalled the day he had received the express from Fitzwilliam and had told Bingley about his vision. Miss Bingley had a habit of listening at doors, and she had come to call them back to dinner; he had, at the time, wondered how much she had heard.
A snarl pressed against his lips. Miss Bingley had deliberately set out to ruin Elizabeth’s family. Suddenly his retribution seemed far too little, and he almost wished Miss Bingley would try to approach him publicly so that he could give her the cut direct, an act that would socially ruin her.
For a moment, he indulged the fantasy, but then he discarded it as unhelpful, dragging himself back to the present. He was here to support Bingley, and he would not allow Miss Bingley to provoke him into forsaking the changes in his character on which he had worked so hard any more than he had allowed Wickham to goad him into it.
Miss Bingley turned away from Darcy. “I have done my best to protect those I care about. Why should I apologise?”
“You cannot pay people to ruin others!” Bingley burst out. “Such behaviour is far beyond improper—it is immoral and illegal. Your scheme could have injured many people.” He gestured to the bruises decorating his face and threw out a hand towards the injuries on Darcy’s face. “In truth, many people were injured! Wickham’s man shot at me, and it was only by the will of Providence that he missed. Caroline, you cannot work to hurt others; it is wrong, and even if it were not, you have no idea who will be hurt in the course of your scheme.”
A Vision of the Path Before Him Page 47