by Jennifer Joy
Intrigued, Elizabeth looked for the cluster of trees where she knew there was a fallen log to sit on. “Come. Nature has given us the most comfortable chairs. We will be out of the way of the path should anyone else come along.”
Once they were seated, Georgiana needed no encouragement to speak. “It is difficult to begin. I realize now how rash my conduct was, and I am ashamed. Is there a circumstance where you would cease to be my friend?”
Elizabeth leaned forward, placing her hand over Georgiana’s. “You are my friend. Nothing you could tell me would change that.”
Georgiana swallowed hard and her eyes glistened. Trying to lighten the mood and ease Georgiana’s worries, Elizabeth said, “Besides, I highly doubt your conduct could be worse than Lydia’s. Your worst mistake would be an everyday occurrence for her.”
Instead of the laugh she had expected, Georgiana’s chin trembled.
“Oh, dear, I fear I said something wrong. I promise to keep my mouth closed and let only you and Mr. Darcy, who is far more sensible than I am, speak.” She clamped her lips shut to prove her point.
Her action did not provoke a laugh, but it got a small smile and a more relaxed girl.
With a deep breath, Georgiana began. “I spent this past summer in Ramsgate. I wanted to prove to my brother that I was fully capable of taking care of myself and making my own decisions.” She bowed her head and shook it, wringing the fabric of her dress. “I was overjoyed when Mr. Wickham showed up. He had been like an older brother to me, and my trust in him was implicit. When he showed me affection much more profound than that of a brother to a sister, I fell in love.”
“He was so handsome in his regimental uniform. He said the most beautiful things, and when I was in his presence, nothing else in life mattered. If I had any worries, he took them away with one look. He cheered me up in a way nobody ever had. It was like he could read my heart. He understood me.”
She paused. Elizabeth remained quiet, her eyes never leaving Georgiana’s downcast face.
Setting her jaw and looking up, Georgiana said, “When he asked me to elope with him, I accepted.”
Elizabeth kept her face neutral, though the shock was great. Georgiana searched her face for disapproval, and Elizabeth was determined to give none. Anybody could see that Georgiana reproached herself enough. She did not need anyone else’s rebuke.
“If William had not shown up the day he did, I would have eloped with Mr. Wickham.”
Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy. Their eyes locked and in his expression, she saw a plea. She understood. He was scared for his sister. She had so much to lose in sharing her story.
“The risk to you in sharing your history with Mr. Wickham is great. I will honor your confidence and keep your secret. But, why did you decide to tell me this?”
“I need your help. I kept a diary where I poured out my innermost feelings, not being able to talk to anyone else and being too angry with William at the time to confide in him. Two days ago, my diary went missing.”
Elizabeth gasped. Should the wrong person find it, Georgiana would be cast out of Society before she ever got the opportunity to enter it.
“It gets worse. Mrs. Hurst read enough of it to know she could use it against my brother. She saw Mr. Wickham at the parade, and along with Caroline, they went against William. That must have been when it happened. Their silence could be bought for a price. Ten thousand pounds to be paid this afternoon to Mr. Wickham and Miss Bingley’s hand in marriage to William.”
Elizabeth went numb. For once, she had no words.
Mr. Darcy spoke softly. “On Georgiana’s good advice, I confided in Bingley— leaving out the contents of the diary, of course. He dealt with his sisters so thoroughly, I am certain we have nothing to fear from them.”
Elizabeth pressed her knuckles against her mouth to keep from laughing. It would have been entirely inappropriate, but her relief was too great to contain.
“You must be happy to have your freedom,” Elizabeth said to Darcy.
“Yes. I am free from Miss Bingley, but not from Wickham. We trust you, Miss Elizabeth. Is there anything you can think of which would help us sever all association with him?”
Elizabeth asked, “Is there nothing you might use against him to secure his silence? Has he done nothing which could damage his reputation as a gentleman?”
“He has been so closely tied with the Darcy name, only my closest friends know the truth of his character. Wickham has such appealing manners and gains the trust of others so easily, it would only bring shame on our family name to speak against him.”
One man with all the goodness and another with all the appearance of it. How unjust, yet she had judged Mr. Darcy as proud when they first met. What he said was true.
“I told you earlier of my discussion with Danny Dixon. I promised him I would not reveal where he was from, but under the circumstances, I fear I have little choice. Was there a family by the name Dixon near Pemberley?”
Darcy thought through the names of their tenants and the families he knew in the surrounding villages. “No. I am not aware of any Dixons.”
“What about when you were younger? Danny showed up here in the month of October eleven years ago.”
Darcy’s face turned white. “Not long after our father’s murder.”
“I do not want to bring back sad memories, but what was the name of the woman who killed him?”
“Digby. Do you think he is a relation? There was a boy who went missing and was never found. Wickham searched until popular opinion convinced him that the boy was gone forever.”
“If it is him, and I think it is, he must have seen something to make him flee. Whatever it was has everything to do with Mr. Wickham. If we can only find out what that was, it would free you from Mr. Wickham and protect you from any further attacks.”
Mr. Darcy stood. “Let us talk to him now. There is not a moment to lose.”
Elizabeth understood his anxiety. But, if what they suspected were true, Danny would be terrified to admit his connection to the woman who had shot Mr. Darcy’s father.
“Let me go. I will convince him to speak much easier if I go alone.”
Mr. Darcy did not look pleased. The muscles along his jaw tensed, but he finally nodded his head. “We trust you, Elizabeth. Wickham will call at three this afternoon…”
Her spirits soared at his use of her Christian name. It sounded so natural, he seemed not even to have noticed calling her so. “If I have to drag him to Netherfield Park, we will be there.”
She would not let them down.
Chapter 20
Elizabeth’s legs could not carry her to Lucas Lodge’s home farm quickly enough. A couple times, she even wished she had a horse, so she could speak to Mr. Dixon sooner. Time was of the essence, so she half-ran, half-walked until she came upon a field of laborers.
As she approached, she scanned the faces of the workers until she found him. The chill in the air could not keep the heat from her face, nor could she calm her breath enough to speak in her normal tone.
Standing up from his stooped position, he greeted her. "Miss Elizabeth, are you well?”
She nodded, unable to speak yet.
“This is most unusual."
Sucking in breath, she willed her heartbeat to calm down. "It is at that, but something has happened, and I came here in hopes of securing your assistance. Can we talk?"
"I think so. It is the least I can do to show my gratitude for your help in securing work for me here. Sir William is a kind master." Sir William had found a family among his tenants who were willing to receive the boy the very day Elizabeth and Jane found him in their barn.
They walked a short distance, so that they might remain visible but unheard.
"I come to you seeking help for a dear friend. It is a matter of great delicacy, and I can only hope that my suspicions are well-founded. You mentioned when we first met that you are from the North. Where, exactly, are you from?"
Mr. Dixon shuffle
d his feet. It would take more to get him to talk.
"Mr. Dixon, I realize that for some reason, which I am sure is wholly justified, you hesitate to speak of your past. Mr. Wickham has dealt treacherously with the Darcys, and now he seeks to destroy Miss Darcy's reputation and force Mr. Darcy to serve his beck and call unless we can find a way to silence him. If you will not tell me where you are from, perhaps you can tell me something more about Mr. Wickham. Do you know anything about Mr. Wickham?"
Mr. Dixon's eyes flashed in anger. "He is the worst sort of man. I would not go near him or have any dealings with him if I were you, Miss Elizabeth. The Darcys are a powerful family. Let them deal with Mr. Wickham."
"The Darcys stand to lose everything they hold dear because of that evil man. As their friend, I cannot stand by and watch it happen. Do you know anything that could stop Mr. Wickham before he damages more families and lives?”
Mr. Dixon heaved a sigh and looked heavenward. “You make it sound like it is my moral obligation to help you.”
“You admit you can help?”
He considered long and hard. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, “Aye, I can help. I will not speak of it here in the fields, but I am willing to accompany you to speak to Mr. Darcy. What I have to say should free him of Mr. Wickham’s influence, but it will also bring about some changes for me. Then again, maybe it will ease this load I have been carrying all these years.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dixon. Meet me at Netherfield Park before 3 o’clock. Not a moment later.”
“You may as well call me Digby. That is my real name.” He hung his head in shame.
Darcy and Georgiana waited in the library, having nothing at their disposal to distract themselves whilst the time passed. Wickham would make his appearance in an hour— the longest hour of their lives. Their brief triumph had eased Darcy’s worries, but it had not erased their problem completely.
“I hope Elizabeth is right,” Georgiana said.
“Me, too.” Darcy realized how easily— no, that was not quite the right word, but it would do— he had placed his confidence in her. She had made no promises beyond what she could keep, but he knew she would make the rocks cry out if Mr. Digby would not speak. Digby! Dixon! Of course! They had seen him the day they arrived at Meryton. Darcy had not caught sight of him since then, and he had forgotten about the familiar face.
Hope surged through his veins. Daniel Digby must have witnessed something for him to have run away so young. Elizabeth’s description of his reaction to Wickham implied that he had seen something disturbing enough for him to keep his distance from the Darcys and hide his identity. But what?
Clinging to his faith that things would work out in the end, he wondered how he would endure the time until Elizabeth returned with the final piece of the puzzle that would forever liberate him and Georgiana from Wickham.
Bingley entered the book room. He had grown taller since they had last seen him only hours before. To say he looked happy would not have done sufficient justice to the man standing before them.
“I must ask her today, Darcy. I cannot wait any longer. Now, tell me honestly, do you think she will have me?” His question, sincerely asked, tempered his euphoria and made Darcy smile.
“She would be a fool to refuse you, and we all know that Miss Bennet is not a fool.”
“She makes me want to be a better man. I would do anything to please her.”
Georgiana smiled. “That is how it should be, Mr. Bingley. I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
Darcy, too, was content for Bingley, content and maybe a bit envious.
“I only have to see my sisters and Mr. Hurst into Meryton, then I will return in time to call on Jane and ask her for her hand. The last of their trunks is being loaded as we speak.”
The timing was perfect. Wickham could come and go by the time Bingley got back— if all went well. Only forty minutes remained until the miscreant would call.
Mr. Hurst entered the room, followed closely by his wife and sister-in-law.
He cleared his throat. “There is something the ladies wish to say to Miss Darcy before we depart.” He stepped aside so his wife and her sister might enter into the room more fully.
Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both had their hands clasped together and their eyes on the floor. When they did not step forward soon enough for Mr. Hurst’s liking, he cleared his throat again and glared at them.
Mrs. Hurst kept her head bowed, but looked up with her eyes to see Georgiana. “I am sorry, Miss Darcy. I now realize that what I did was unforgivable, and I only want to reassure you that I shall never speak of the subject which has brought me such a bitter outcome.” She grimaced at the pouting sister beside her.
“I trust that you will keep your silence. You know how aversely the consequences will affect you.” The icy tone in Georgiana’s voice did nothing to placate the repentant woman in front of them. It was how it needed to be.
After an elongated silence, Mr. Hurst spoke. “Caroline, do you not have anything you wish to say?”
She lifted her chin and tilted her head to the side, a scowl on her face.
“Caroline? Need I remind you of what we discussed?” Mr. Hurst insisted.
Rolling her eyes, she said, “There is no need to make a fuss. I am no threat to you. It was not I who read your diary.” She glared at her sister, who gasped.
Mrs. Hurst countered, “You lay the blame so easily on me now, but you thought it was a brilliant idea at the time. ‘How very clever of you, Louisa,’ you said. ‘What a wonderful sister you are,’ you said.”
Miss Bingley waved her off. “Louisa never told me exactly what she had read. Only that it was scandalous. I am clever and have guessed what it was about, but you need not worry that I will use my knowledge against you.”
Mr. Hurst waved his arms and stepped between the sisters. “I am afraid that is the best apology she can manage, but she knows very well that if she speaks a word against you, I could reveal how she attempted to blackmail a respected gentleman to marry her because she could not get him to propose by honest means.”
Darcy was impressed at the turnaround in the men before him. He knew Bingley was capable of taking charge— he had seen glimpses of decisiveness at university and in business dealings— but Mr. Hurst was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps he would now spend more of his days awake.
They left without further conversation, there being nothing left to say. Bingley followed their carriage on his horse.
The clock chimed that another half an hour had passed. Only fifteen minutes more to wait. Darcy had every confidence Wickham would arrive on time. There was money involved, after all.
Chapter 21
The butler opened the front door to admit a visitor just as the clock chimed the top of the hour. Wickham.
Elizabeth had yet to appear. Darcy left instructions with the butler to see her to the library as soon as she arrived.
Darcy gripped the sides of his chair as he heard Wickham’s steps drawing nearer. He looked at Georgiana. She appeared calm with her hands clasped loosely in her lap, but he could see her pulse beating rapidly on her neck. He reached over and squeezed her hand, holding on longer than he normally did to warm her fingers. They were like ice.
“We will be all right, Georgie.” With one final squeeze, he let go to lace his fingers together to keep from fidgeting.
She nodded and smiled as the door opened.
Wickham entered on the heels of the butler, not awaiting introduction before swooping into the room.
“How pleasant it is to see you today. It is not often a Darcy must stoop to the demands of others, now is it? What would your parents say if they knew what you were up to? Hmm?” he asked Georgiana as he swaggered over to her. “Would they be ashamed?” He knelt down on one knee and swept her hand up to kiss it. She pulled it away just as Darcy reached over and shoved Wickham.
“Do not attempt to touch her again,” Darcy said through gritted teeth.
Bala
ncing himself, Wickham held his hands up in false acquiescence. His lopsided grin proclaimed his overconfidence. “Playing hard to get now, are you? What a delightful change to the simpering romantic who so easily fell in love.”
Darcy clenched his jaw. “Sit,” he commanded through his teeth, pointing to a chair opposite them.
Wickham opened his mouth to give some retort, but Darcy cut him off. “I am in no mood for your behavior. What is more, you are not to interfere in our lives again.”
“I take it you signed the bank notes then?” Wickham eagerly extended his hand. “I will not leave without my money.”
“I owe you nothing.”
Wickham snatched his hand back and shoved it into his coat pocket. He pulled out the leather diary, his sneer hardening. “What about this? Have you no concern for your sister’s reputation? What kind of a brother are you?” He shook the diary wildly in front of them.
Darcy inhaled so that he might tell Wickham exactly what he thought of him when Georgiana sprung up from her chair. The movement was so unexpected, she snatched the diary out of Wickham’s hand and stepped toward the glowing fireplace before he could as much as flinch.
Holding it over the fire, she said, “You have nothing against me or my brother, and my dearest wish is to never have to look at your face again. It disgusts me to know how I once felt about you. Well, know this: You have no hold over me. After you leave here, I shall not think of you. Not even for a moment.” She flung the diary into the fire. Sparks flew up the chimney and the loose pages flamed up instantly.
Recovering himself from his shock, Darcy turned his attention back to Wickham, who sat with his jaw open, staring at the charring evidence, watching it disappear.
Georgiana brushed her hands against each other and calmly returned to her chair next to Darcy. She walked tall and sat like a queen ruling her court. In Darcy’s eyes, she was extraordinary.