Chapter 6
The next day, as Darcy rode over to the inn where Miss Elizabeth was staying, he strongly felt the parallel to those times he visited her at the parsonage, or walked with her in Rosings Park. But this time he had an errand, there would be no awkward silences or lack of conversation to make Miss Elizabeth nervous. He would apologise for Miss Bingley's behaviour in his house, also in name of Georgiana, then assure her it would not happen at dinner that night. After his apology he would take leave and go home.
That would be all and she would be perfectly at ease.
But things did not turn out that way, Darcy was in for a very uncomfortable visit, painful actually, for when Mr Gardiner's boy let him into their apartment, he was almost bumped into by Miss Elizabeth herself, who cried out for her uncle in obvious distress. Why could nothing between them ever go as it should? Unable to hide his own distress at seeing her thus, he urged her to let the boy go after her uncle, she was not well at all, something dreadful must have happened at home, for he could see a thick letter on the table behind her. Never in his life had Darcy been tempted so much to take a woman in his arms without having any right to do so. Miss Elizabeth was trembling and her legs nearly gave out on her, she was in a pitiable state, and there was nothing he could do to comfort her. The boy gone, she finally sat down and he offered to help her in any way he could, but she denied being ill, confirming bad news from Longbourn. Struggling for control, she told him her youngest sister had eloped with Wickham, and then it was Darcy's turn to feel his knees buckle beneath him. Please let that not be true!
But it turned out to be the sad truth, and Miss Elizabeth reproached herself for not telling her family about Wickham's true nature. Darcy knew better, she couldn't have warned her featherheaded youngest sister against Wickham, Darcy had asked her specifically to keep his explanation to herself. This was all his fault. To protect Georgie and to avoid having to speak his very name, Darcy had refused to make Wickham's true nature
public, accepting rather to have Wickham's lies about him believed than to have to explain to everyone what had really happened. Finding it beneath him, actually, to have his private affairs discussed publicly. And now Miss Elizabeth was suffering for it, would lose whatever standing her family had, they would be the ridicule of the neighbourhood, and Bingley could forget about marrying Miss Bennet. Even if Miss Elizabeth would never love him, Darcy couldn't let that happen.
As she finally broke down and covered her face in shame and grief, Darcy made a resolution to hunt Wickham down and force him to marry the girl, at any cost to himself. He was not going to let Miss Elizabeth's life be ruined over this, he loved her and his heart ached to see her in such despondence, such a strong woman reduced to tears. As he excused himself for his prolonged stay and offered his sympathy, she looked up at him for a moment, and the look in her eyes just broke his heart. Just when Georgie had given him some hope of winning her something came up that ripped them apart, maybe forever. But he would save her family's honour, even if that meant having to speak to Wickham again, and risk paying an unimaginable price to someone else to find out wherever in London he was hiding.
One last thing to do, and that was to cancel their dinner, the evening he had been looking forward to with such eagerness, but there was no help for it, he had a huge task ahead of him, finding a single man in a city of millions.
Miss Elizabeth was not in the mood for dinner with anyone, anyway. And in the knowledge that they might never meet again, their growing closeness nipped in the bud, one more thing for George Wickham to answer for, he looked at her one last time, fixing her beautiful features in his mind forever, then left. He rode home, changed into travelling clothes, had his fastest horse saddled and joined Georgie in her own apartment.
Seeing the look on his face she exclaimed and asked, 'Something happened at Miss Elizabeth's place, you didn't propose already, did you? I told you she needed more time!'
He sat down and replied, 'No I didn't, I was going to apologise and assure her she would be treated better tonight, but I never got around to that.'
Then he told his sister everything that had happened, and Georgie was absolutely stunned, and very supportive of him.
'Of course you must find him and make him marry that girl, but don't be so
hard on yourself, it's Wickham's fault, not yours. You cannot be blamed, you kept quiet for me, and if you get him to marry he will never take advantage of any woman again.'
She was so sweet, and so mature already, he felt a little better and was glad he had decided to be honest to her.
'I'll take care of your visitors, I'll tell them some story about your having been called to London for business. Don't worry, I'll manage. You just go.'
'I may never see her again, Georgie,' he blurted out, truly frightened that on top of what he was about to suffer to find Wickham and have to deal with him once more, he would never see Miss Elizabeth again.
'Nonsense, Fitzwilliam, once you've got the girl safely married you can take Bingley to Netherfield for the shooting season, and you'll be sure to see Miss Elizabeth. You'll have Wickham as your brother in law, though, that's just awful.'
'Dear Georgie, I really don't care anymore. I don't care what my family thinks, as long as you are with me, and I don't care what my friends think, I just want her by my side, safe and happy. I had to clutch myself to the furniture to not go to her and take her in my arms, have you any idea how it feels to see someone you love in terrible pain and not be allowed to comfort her as you so dearly want to?'
Of course she replied, 'I do, Fitzwilliam, I saw you suffer so much and I didn't dare talk about it for months. I'm so glad we finally did. It will all work out in the end, you'll see, I have high hopes for the two of you.'
And she really did comfort him, held him, whispered encouragements to him. When he felt much better she added, 'Now go get Wickham, brother, just a little obstacle on the road to happiness. You will find him, I have total faith in you.'
With the support of her trust in him he rode off to London, already knowing where to start his search, and not looking forward to it.
Frankly, Darcy had not the slightest doubt of finding Wickham, but he did need some preparation to get what he wanted at his first address, so he rode to his town house and slept a few hours until he was totally refreshed and fully aware. He bathed, had himself dressed at his most formal, including an expensive cologne, then carefully suppressed every thought of Miss Elizabeth and anything else that might weaken him. He was now a figure of authority and fortune, and ready to hunt something smarter than game, or
Wickham for that matter.
Leaving his horse in favour of a cab, he crossed the better neighbourhoods of London until he got to one of decidedly lower stature, not dangerous or truly bad, just a touch below middle-class. Finding a specific house, large and reasonably kept, he knocked on the door, gave his name to the manservant and was let in immediately. The hall was rather neat and decorated quite lavishly, it was obviously a place owned by a lady. He didn't have to command the servant to lead him to his mistress, she must have left standing orders in case he turned up, and that fact heartened Darcy immeasurably. Soon he found himself in a beautiful drawing-room with rather valuable furniture, Mrs Younge was doing well these days. Sitting on an opulent, fur covered sofa, she was looking well, too, and Darcy steeled himself for what was coming next.
Dressed as luxuriously as her house was decorated, Mrs Younge was no longer young herself, but not yet old either. She was still very attractive in a rather voluptuous way, and during her time as Georgie's governess she had taken quite a fancy to Darcy. Not to marry him, she always knew that would never happen, but to tempt him and tease him towards intimacy. In short, she had always wanted him, and even after having been dismissed for helping Wickham to recommend himself to Georgie's affection, she obviously still did. She still wanted to lead Darcy into sin, get him to lose his self-control, make him break his own principle of not touching a woman
he was not married to. And Darcy planned to use that desire to get her to tell him what he needed to know, Wickham's whereabouts. But the price would be high, he would have to endure her seductive games for at least a day, but very likely more, he would have to take her to dinner, treat her to some amusement, bear with her vulgarities, and most of all, he would have to resist the very real temptation of her luscious flesh. For despite possessing a near inconceivable control over his natural urges, Darcy was still human, still a man, and Mrs Younge was a woman, very much so.
He could not talk to her, plead with her, work on her conscience. That was of no use with Mrs Younge, she was a widow of some means and therefore totally independent of society, she had no wish to be respectable or to get personal appreciation. What she wanted was amusement, and another chance at getting Darcy to submit to her sweet enticement. And the temptation had ever been huge, Darcy had his urges, as all men did, and since he was still single at twenty-eight he had no way of honourably
relieving them. He knew some of his class lowered themselves to use dependants, or ladies of sin, but Darcy prided himself on the self-control that had enabled him to stay pure all these years. And Mrs Younge wanted to take that from him, wanted to make him lose himself in lust, wanted to make him beg for her luscious gifts. It would have been easy to relinquish his purity to her years ago, giving himself relief and even enjoyment, with no strings attached, no indiscretion, no shame. But somehow his pride had always revolted against giving in, and maybe tonight, but more likely tomorrow, he would reap the reward of that strength of mind by finding out where Wickham was hiding.
But it would take some effort, for the thought of Miss Elizabeth made it even harder to deliver himself to this dangerous game of wills, with himself having most to lose. No-one would ever know if he gave in, Mrs Younge would keep that sweet information to herself, to savour for years to come, but he would never forgive himself, would feel defiled forever, spoiled for marriage to a pure lady like Miss Elizabeth. And Mrs Younge must not find out he was madly in love, she needed to think she was still attractive to him, or the game would be ruined and he would have to hope her avarice was stronger than her affection for Wickham that particular day. Playing the temptation game with her was a much more secure way of getting information out of her than plain bribery.
She liked him bossy and formal, so he kept himself upright and arrogant, as the gleeful servant introduced him with a flourish.
'My Lady, Mr Darcy from Derbyshire requests to see you.'
Mr Darcy's arrival was an unexpected pleasure to his mistress, and the servant knew he would be well rewarded for bringing him to her.
As Mrs Younge got up from her sofa and curtsied to him, Darcy decided to add an extra flourish to his own greeting by treating her like a lady of class.
He bowed deeply to the woman standing before him in eager anticipation, then took her hand, kissed it gently and let go of it slowly, carefully.
'My Lady, it is a pleasure to see you again.'
It was a very formal scene, and Mrs Younge nearly swooned at the delight of such a handsome, noble man treating her like royalty. A sigh escaped her and she murmured, 'Oh, Darcy, there is no-one like you. You haven't aged a day, and your manners are just so ravishing.'
She did not touch him intimately or close in on him too much, that was part
of the game. He had to come to her of his own free will, she was allowed to try to seduce him, but they would play by the rules of the gentry, not of the street. She wanted him more than ever, it was almost pitiful to behold, of course Darcy had gained a lot of feeling himself since they last met, and he could see very clearly now what he hadn't deigned to notice before. But he thought of Miss Elizabeth and steeled his heart. Dinner, a play or a show, some conversation, and then he had won.
They did not speak of why he had come, she probably knew, but she couldn't resist him, she had to have her chance at him. Darcy took her to a fashionable café in her part of town, he couldn't risk being seen by someone of his own class. Then they visited a very difficult play, her choice, he would have taken her to a naughty show just as gladly. She looked her fill of him, and flirted with him as far as their rules allowed, sitting close enough that he could pick up her feminine scent, brushing him with subtle touches, flattering his good looks and exquisite manners. After the play they retired to her drawing-room with a very good champagne, not too much, feeding him drunk was also out of the question, she would consider that cheating, and sitting together on the fur-covered sofa they talked about the play. She was very smart, she must have been thrilled to have him to accompany her, for not many would have understood all the layers it contained.
Their conversation was very pleasant, but Darcy found himself not tempted in the least by the idea of her luscious body so very close to him, and he always used to feel her seductive qualities very much. Being hopelessly in love was undoubtedly the difference, and with his judgement unclouded by lust he discovered he actually rather liked Mrs Younge. If things didn't work out with Miss Elizabeth he would consider returning here and finally giving in to her, to at least taste the pleasures of the flesh once with someone not hopelessly stupid.
Of course his sense of propriety soon checked that thought, there was a world of difference between enjoying a play with someone and committing a huge sin with her, the woman who had nearly cost his beloved sister everything. Georgie's conviction of Miss Elizabeth's feelings turning towards him had given him hope of finding happiness after all, and he would keep that hope until it was proven to be in vain. But first he would have to act tempted for what he was worth, or his game would be up and Wickham would escape.
And he managed to his own complete satisfaction, he merely acted as if this
was his fantasy, and Mrs Younge saw him shiver with repressed ardour, certain that if she didn't get him to give himself up to her today, it had to be tomorrow. When it was time to be in bed she was not ready to give up, yet, and somehow Darcy wanted her to be satisfied with what entertainment she did get, somehow he didn't want to best her anymore, if this was his payment for the information he needed, he would deliver it in full. Well, nearly full.
The next day he picked her up with a cab and they left town for some outdoor entertainment. He rowed her in a boat, and they walked through a little wood, had Miss Elizabeth infected him with this habit of rambling among trees? Finally he took Mrs Younge to a dingy circus, a sad affair with rickety wagons, once-gaudy paint peeling, the clowns depressed, the acrobats worn out and paunchy. The bearded lady was the prettiest woman in the whole crew. They both loved it, and Darcy resolved that if Miss Elizabeth ever was to become Mrs Darcy, he would take her here as well.
She could not but appreciate this, it was humanity stripped bare to its very essence.
Again, they ended up in Mrs Younge's drawing-room, and after another nice talk and some champagne, she asked, 'I suppose you want to know where George Wickham keeps the girl?'
He nodded, surprised to have her give in so easily. She handed him a slip of paper with an address written on it in a neat flowing hand, she had been a governess after all.
'They are planning to move soon, he's out of money once again. If you force him to marry her, all mothers with daughters in all of England will thank you for saving their girls from that two-faced scoundrel. I know how hard it is to resist his charms, he sweet-talked me into doing things I still regret.
And this girl cannot be more than sixteen once again, what chance did she have?'
She had been planning from the start to give up Wickham's address! This was a mighty clever woman, she had been playing with him for two days, getting him to entertain her, enjoying herself whilst knowing what he came for and ready to give it to him. He could not but admire a mind like that!
'I enjoyed myself hugely, Darcy, you've changed, you're the best company I ever had. If it doesn't work out with the lady of your choice, please see me again. It'll be my turn to treat you to some prime entertainment. I envy her,
she must be very special to have finally captured your heart. You're a
mighty good actor, I nearly fell for it.'
Surprised, but pleased nonetheless how things had worked out, Darcy observed, 'You saw through me from the start and I never noticed. You are smart. If it doesn't work out, I'm afraid I'll be beyond entertainment. But thank you for the offer, I've had a surprisingly good time.'
She looked flattered but not at all surprised.
'I always suspected you'd fall hard some day, too bad. Such a handsome fellow you are. And a good man as well. Get Wickham married to the girl, and preferably far away from here. Now go quickly, before he leaves, for if that happens, I won't be able to tell you where he is.'
Chapter 7
And Darcy took a cab to the address straight away, hoping Wickham would indeed be there, with Miss Elizabeth's sister. It might have been his own sister, though Wickham would have had to marry her to get at her fortune.
Still, he would have done unspeakable things to her, at fifteen.
As fortune willed it, someone just exited the building as he neared it, and Darcy could walk right up to Wickham's floor without having to knock or be let in. It was a great relief, for this truly was a bad neighbourhood, and he preferred not to be out in the open for very long. A feeling of disgust came over him as he noticed the general state the building was in, there was rubbish everywhere, the smell of boiled cabbage pervaded the ground floor, after which it mingled with other, even less pleasant, odours. There were several dishevelled children playing a noisy game on the stairs, and when Darcy passed them by in his decorous clothing and with his air of decision, they fell silent and rushed aside almost fearfully. This was a totally different world from the one Darcy was used to reside in.
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