“At her uncle’s house in Cheapside.”
“On Gracechurch Street, if I recall correctly,” Darcy said absently. Perhaps there was something he might be able to do after all.
***
Darcy did not find it difficult to locate the Gardiner residence. While Gracechurch Street stretched for many blocks, a few carefully placed questions brought him to the correct house. He rapped on the door and gave his card to the manservant who opened it.
The man returned quickly and said that Mrs. Gardiner would see him, and asked him to wait in the sitting room. It was tastefully decorated, although a careful eye could detect a certain frugality compared to the houses he usually frequented. He examined an attractive small watercolour on the wall, recognizing it as a landscape near Lambton. Memories of Elizabeth there welled up in him.
Mrs. Gardiner was dressed neatly and practically, clearly not expecting to receive guests, but she greeted him with as much graciousness as if she were welcoming him to a manor. “This is a lovely surprise, Mr. Darcy.
My husband is out, but I am glad to have the opportunity to return your kind hospitality. I hope your sister is well?”
He bowed slightly, wishing that Mr. Gardiner were there. It would be easier to talk to a man about such things. He hardly knew how to begin speaking to a woman.
“She is quite well, thank you. She has just returned from a stay at Mr. Bingley’s estate in Hertfordshire, and she brought some intelligence which has caused me concern.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s smile faded slightly as she motioned to him to sit. “I am sorry if it has created any inconvenience for you.”
Darcy noted how neatly she had avoided stating that she knew what he was speaking of. “It is a delicate matter, but one which concerns me in that I bear a certain responsibility for it.”
She raised an arched eyebrow, then rang the bell. When the manservant appeared, she asked him to fetch Mr. Gardiner from the warehouse. When he departed, she said, “Perhaps you could enlighten me, as I am unaware of any matter which touches on you, Mr. Darcy.”
“I am, as you may guess, speaking of the matter of your youngest niece. You may be aware that my family has a long history of dealings with Mr. Wickham. I was aware he was not a man to be trusted, but I chose to say nothing of the matter in Hertfordshire because I thought it beneath my pride. In hindsight, I failed in my responsibility to the people of Meryton, and allowed a situation to arise which has harmed people of my acquaintance.” In particular, the woman he loved.
She looked at him for a long moment, then smiled warmly. “Is it then your personal responsibility, Mr.
Darcy, to warn the entire world of every potential blackguard? I am sure you must know more than one.”
Her gentle teasing reminded him of Elizabeth, and his stiffness eased slightly. “You are graciousness itself, madam, but the fact remains that I have a gentleman’s duty to ameliorate a desperate situation when it is one I could have prevented.”
“I suspect, then, that this is a discussion you should be having with my husband. He should be here in a few minutes, as the warehouse is not far. May I offer you some refreshment in the meantime?”
Darcy accepted her offer gratefully, and they chatted about Derbyshire while she poured out tea. The tea was excellent, clearly expensive, not like bitter leavings more commonly found in such households. He wondered how often it was served there, and whether it was brought out especially for him. But he had to admit that if he had not known their address and Mr. Gardiner’s occupation, he would have taken them for fashionable people. Certainly they exceeded much of the ton in civility and amiability.
A heavy set of footsteps presaged Mr. Gardiner’s arrival. That gentleman stopped short at the sight of their guest, but recovered himself quickly and made the usual polite inquiries.
Mrs. Gardiner said, “Mr. Darcy has come with some concerns regarding our present difficulty and how to ameliorate it. If you will excuse me, I will withdraw to allow you to discuss this.”
Mr. Gardiner held up a finger to indicate that she should wait. “If this matter concerns our niece, I would prefer that you stay, as you have better insight into her than I. Mr. Darcy, do you object to my wife’s presence?”
“Not at all,” he said. He explained his circumstances again, and added, “I have already begun some inquiries into Mr. Wickham’s present whereabouts. If I can locate him, there is a chance I can persuade him to make matters right with Miss Lydia.”
“Any intelligence you can offer would be greatly appreciated. I am not sure, however, that he has any ongoing interest in Lydia, from what she had told me.”
“Perhaps not,” Darcy acknowledged. “Forgive me for speaking bluntly, but Wickham will do almost anything if I make it worth his while. He is very fond of money, and always short of it. This would, of course, be at my expense.”
“That is generous of you, and although I would prefer to be of some help to my niece, I believe we can address that question later if Wickham has been found. Otherwise….”
“If I cannot locate him, I do have other resources which may lessen the impact on the Bennet family.
There are men who would be willing to marry your niece with sufficient financial incentive.”
The Gardiners exchanged glances. Mr. Gardiner said, “I agree with your sentiment, and in some ways I would be happier to see Lydia wed to someone other than Wickham, but we have run into some difficulties in that regard as well. There is a young man in my firm, a clerk who is educated but has no wealth or family to speak of, who was willing to consider the idea in exchange for preference at the firm plus a dowry, but Lydia refuses to have anything to do with him or any other man who is not Wickham. The potential bridegroom is not willing to marry her against her will, and I have yet to convince Mr. Bennet that harsher measures should be taken to win her compliance. We have threatened to put her out on the streets, but is not a situation in which I wish to find myself unless she makes it impossible to do anything else.” He shook his head and sighed.
Mrs. Gardiner said, “She is quite out of spirits, poor girl. She seems very troubled by her experiences, but she must marry, or else leave her family forever.”
“I see our minds run in similar directions. Can you tell me what Miss Lydia would wish for in a husband, given the limitations of the current circumstances?”
Mr. Gardiner looked to his wife, who said, “She had dreams of marrying an officer, one who would take her to balls and assemblies, a man she could show off to her friends and acquaintances. That last is obviously impossible, but a soldier might be more agreeable to her. She remains fixed on Mr. Wickham, and sees marriage to him as the only way she could ever return to Meryton or her old life. It is true enough; even if she marries someone else, she could not go back, since everyone knows it was Wickham she ran off with.”
“Has she told you where she saw him last? That might prove of assistance in trying to locate him.”
“He left their lodgings while she was out shopping. At first she thought he had merely gone out himself, but then she found that all his belongings were missing, along with the little money she had left. I can press her for more details if that would help.”
Darcy nodded. “It might. So we have the beginnings of a plan.”
***
Locating Mrs. Yonge did not prove as difficult as Darcy had feared. A few coins changing hands at her old lodgings was sufficient to obtain her new direction, which was in a neighbourhood of London where Darcy would be disinclined to go without a footman for protection. She had clearly fallen a long way since her days as Georgiana’s governess. Darcy found a vindictive pleasure in the thought.
When Mrs. Yonge first opened her battered door to him, he almost did not recognize her. Her appearance, once refined if impoverished, was now slovenly, and it was not difficult to recognize the odor of alcohol that permeated the air. At first she refused to speak to him, but coin of the realm again proved the necessary lubricant. She allowed him into the hou
se, which apparently was some sort of boarding house. “What is it you want then?” she asked.
“I am looking for George Wickham.”
“He isn’t here.”
“When did you see him last?”
“What’s it worth to you?”
Darcy silently handed over a handful of coins which she examined without apparent pleasure.
“He was here till a few weeks ago with some girl he picked up. Then he left. He took near ten pounds of my money with him, damn him. All my savings. Didn’t pay his rent, either.”
“If I am able to find him, I will make sure your money is returned to you.”
Mrs. Yonge laughed derisively, showing teeth that had begun to yellow. “You won’t find him.”
“Where did he go?”
“He left on a ship to Canada. Seems his old militia mates were getting hot on his trail and he didn’t think he was safe in England.”
Darcy silently damned Wickham. This was one thing he had not expected. “Are you certain?”
“As certain as one ever could be with George Wickham.”
There was little he could say to that.
***
Colonel Fitzwilliam offered Darcy a glass of port. “So, what is on your mind? I can tell from your expression that this is not a social call.”
Darcy did not bother to deny it. “I need your assistance to locate a soldier. I do not know what regiment he is in. Would you be able to find him?”
“That should not be too difficult. Who do you wish to find?”
“You will not like this. I am looking for Captain Wickham.”
The colonel choked on his port. “Why on earth would you want to find him? Can’t help you, anyway. He deserted. They’ve been hunting for him for weeks. And he was a lieutenant, not a captain, damn his eyes.”
“My apologies. I should have made myself clearer. I want the other Wickham,” Darcy said.
CHAPTER 13
It was the first piece of luck Darcy had on the entire quest. Captain Wickham was in England, not on the Continent, and was no farther than Gravesend, where his regiment was in training after taking significant casualties in France. Darcy paid a quick call on his commanding officer with a letter of introduction from Colonel Fitzwilliam, and received immediate direction to the quarters where he might find Captain Thomas Wickham. There he was informed that the Captain was at dinner, but a helpful orderly took him to the officers’
mess.
Darcy heard him before he saw him, his deep voice carrying across the table, telling an off-colour joke.
The big man in the red coat stopped in mid-word when he saw his visitor. “I say, Darcy, this is a surprise. What brings you here?” He frowned, as if he expected ill tidings. “Who is it? You might as well tell me at once.”
For a moment Darcy did not understand him. “Your family is all in good health, to the best of my knowledge. I would like a few minutes of your time, if that is possible.” Darcy spoke as neutrally as he could manage.
“Anything for an old friend.” He shoveled another bite of meat into his mouth before standing and motioning to Darcy to follow him.
Darcy would certainly not have called him a friend of any sort.
Captain Wickham’s quarters consisted of a small room with a cot bed. “It’s not much,” he said, “but we won’t be here long. Which brings up the question of why you are here, Darcy. A little out of your element, aren’t you?”
“As usual, I am trying to clean up one of your brother’s messes, and in this case, I need some assistance from you.”
The man guffawed. “That’s a rich one, Darcy. I owe him nothing and you less. Your father bought me this commission, and you had nothing to do with it.”
Darcy leveled his best Master of Pemberley stare on him, but the captain seemed singularly unaffected by it, probably from having known him before he could walk. “I am hoping to find a solution that will be to our mutual advantage. I am prepared to pay you for the inconvenience. I assume you are still fond of money?”
He grinned. “Some things never change. So what is it you want me to do? The brat won’t listen to me, you know that.”
“Does he ever listen to anyone? No, I have a proposition for you. I have a girl who needs to marry, and a soldier named Wickham fits the bill best.”
The captain stared at him in disbelief. “Marry? I have no intention of marrying, Darcy. Find yourself another fool.”
“Perhaps I will, but may I tell you the terms before you refuse?”
“Make your best offer then, Darcy. It will have to be pretty damned good.” He sprawled into the one chair in the room.
“She is a gentleman’s daughter. One of your brother’s leavings, of course. She thinks highly of men in red coats, and cannot return home unless she is married, since the whole affair is public knowledge. If she were to become your wife - Mrs. Wickham - everyone would assume it was you she had run off with and she would be accepted in society again. She comes with a dowry of a thousand pounds and an annual allowance to you of two hundred pounds during her lifetime. I will double that. She is sixteen.”
He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Tempting, but not tempting enough. I have no desire to be saddled with a woman.”
Darcy drew out a parcel of paper tied with string. “Five thousand pounds, and your brother’s debts, which I have bought up. Enough to put him in debtor’s prison for life, however long that might last. They would be yours on your wedding day.” Despite the man’s current disdain for George Wickham, Darcy knew he had once loved his younger brother.
The captain’s eyes narrowed and he tapped his foot. “Make it ten thousand pounds and perhaps we can talk. If she’s pretty, that is.”
“You will find it no chore to bed her. Six thousand pounds and five hundred per annum provided you treat her well, and you agree to put on enough charm that she wants to marry you.”
“Five hundred per annum. Tempting, but what is in it for you?”
“She is the daughter of a friend whom I have no desire to see disgraced. Think about it. You could leave the army and be a man of means. You will never have another opportunity like this.”
“Must be a very good friend.” Thomas Wickham pushed himself out of the chair and stuck out his hand.
“You have a deal.”
***
Darcy would have liked to pace the length of the Gardiners’ sitting room, but he forced himself to sit still.
Not only was it better manners, but he could not abide how Lydia Bennet cringed whenever he so much as looked at her. As if he had ever done anything to hurt her! But it was very strange to see a silent and frightened Lydia Bennet. He almost wished she would show some of the lack of decorum he associated with her.
Instead, he said, “George Wickham will not return. He is already aboard a ship to Canada, and no one knows how to reach him once he arrives there, which will be in several months. He is gone. He used you.”
Lydia said in a barely audible voice, “I cannot marry that clerk.”
“You must either wed or leave your friends and family forever.”
“I have no choice but to leave them. If I do not marry Mr. Wickham, I can never go home again.”
“If you do not marry, you will be on the streets where anyone can misuse you. You may well be with child.”
Now it was Mrs. Gardiner’s turn to flinch at his harsh tone, but she made no argument. “It is true, Lydia.
You are running out of choices.”
“I cannot be a clerk’s wife and scrub floors all my life. I would rather die.” She flung herself down on the sofa and began to sob.
Darcy seriously doubted she would follow through on her dramatic statement, but was grateful not to have to press the point. “Fortunately, you still have one choice left. George Wickham has a brother in the regulars. I have acquainted him with your situation, and he feels bound to honour the promise his brother made to you, especially as you may be carrying a child of his blood. He has agreed t
o meet with you, and if he likes you, he will marry you,” Darcy said.
Lydia’s sobs stopped abruptly, but she did not raise her head.
Mrs. Gardiner took on the role of persuasion. “There is nothing like going to a ball on the arm of a handsome officer, you know. If he is anything like George Wickham, he is no doubt delightful.” She looked like it pained her to say so. “More importantly, you would be Mrs. Wickham after all.”
Darcy thought sourly that Thomas would no doubt be quite delightful with six thousand pounds riding on the outcome. “All I ask is that you meet him.”
“Would it not be lovely to have an officer call on you? Perhaps if you like him, he could take you to the theatre or to Vauxhall,” Mrs. Gardiner said coaxingly.
A flicker of her old spirit showed in Lydia’s eyes. “You would allow that?”
“That would be a great advantage of accepting his suit,” Mrs. Gardiner agreed.
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