A faint smile touched Elizabeth’s lips. ‘You remind me of my sister’s faith in human nature, sir.’
He let out a bark of laughter. ‘I should not! I do not believe a word of what I said!’
‘Miss Elizabeth.’ She turned to Darcy. ‘The sooner you read it, the sooner you shall know Wickham’s purpose.’
Elizabeth nodded, then broke the seal and scanned the contents. To Darcy’s alarm, she became, if anything, paler than ever, a small gasp escaping as her hand dropped into her lap, the letter falling from her fingers to the floor.
There was silence in the room other than the crackling of the fire in the grate, and Darcy glanced at his cousin before getting up and walking over to where Elizabeth sat.
Crouching down, he picked up the letter. ‘May I, Miss Elizabeth?’ She did not look at him, but nodded again, and he rose and walked over to a nearby lamp the better to read it.
Thursday, at the same time as the last.
This time, go to the West Entrance and
Bring double the sum.
Come alone, or else
your daughter will be at risk.
If you do not show, all will be revealed and everyone
will comprehend what you have done.
W
As the import of the message struck him, Darcy felt disgust rise within him, his distaste for his former childhood companion all-consuming.
‘Darce?’ He looked up; his cousin was holding out his hand, but the colonel then looked to the lady. ‘With your permission, Miss Elizabeth?’
‘Of course.’ Her air and countenance were bewildered, and Darcy’s anger towards Wickham simmered in his breast.
The colonel read the brief content, then raised steely eyes to his cousin. ‘Same time; double the sum. What the hell does the blackguard think he is up to?’
Elizabeth had sunk back in her chair, and Darcy wished he could put his arms around her. He took the letter from his cousin and read the words again. Then, he dropped it onto his desk and walked over to take the seat opposite Elizabeth. She was staring into nothing, so far as he could tell.
‘Here, Miss Elizabeth, take this.’
Darcy looked up. The colonel was pressing a small glass of wine upon her, and she looked at him blankly for a moment before reaching out to take it.
‘Take a sip or two. It will help you.’
Elizabeth did as she was bid, taking first a sip and then a longer drink. A little colour began to seep into her cheeks again, and her gaze flew to meet Darcy’s.
‘I know not what to do, sir! What can this mean?’ She gestured towards the letter on the desk. ‘I mean, I see he is seeking payment, but what can be his purpose? I cannot begin to comprehend it.’
Desperately wishing he could take her hand, offer her some comfort beyond that which he willed her, Darcy sighed. What could he say? He had no answer.
The colonel returned to his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. ‘It cannot be over your family’s whereabouts; who could be so interested, that Bennet would consider the information such a threat? Does Wickham intend to reveal his ruin of your sister to your new acquaintance here in Derbyshire?’
‘I do not believe it to be that either, Cousin. Look.’ Darcy got up and retrieved the letter and pointed at the final line. ‘Or I shall reveal to the world what you have done.’ What could Bennet have done, and whatever it is, how could Wickham be privy to such knowledge?’
Elizabeth stirred in her seat. ‘There is something he may have heard... but it is also nothing, if you see what I mean?’
Both gentlemen turned to look at her as she sat forward in her chair and placed the wine glass on a side table.
‘When my mother was taken ill for the final time, Papa insisted on nursing her himself. We were sent to our Aunt Gardiner in Town. No visitors were permitted access to Mama’s chamber, though we understand the local apothecary did call upon her a few times. Her sister—our Aunt Philips—was most put out about it, and when Mama did not recover, she...’ Elizabeth swallowed visibly, then raised her chin and met Darcy’s eye. ‘She instructed the local Magistrate to investigate, citing suspicious circumstances surrounding the death. She implicated Papa. It was...’ she drew in a shallow breath. ‘It was awful. A terrible time.’
Darcy recalled the hints from Bingley’s housekeeper of there being some sort of scandal around Mrs Bennet’s passing. ‘But such allegations were unfounded, I am certain.’
‘Yes, of course!’ Elizabeth sighed. ‘Papa and Mrs Philips never got along; he considered his wife to have a propensity for silliness, but he found her sister to be a true proficient.’
The colonel frowned. ‘And Wickham; he is acquainted with your aunt?’
‘Yes; he frequented the Philips’ home in Meryton when the Militia were established there. If he approached her—and though they moved away, their location is no secret—she would have no hesitation in telling him of her suspicions, of her belief that Papa brought about Mama’s death by his own hand.’
Darcy stared at the letter again, but the words merely taunted him, revealing little else about Wickham’s intentions. Out of the corner of his eye he could detect Elizabeth concealing a small yawn behind her hand.
‘Come, Miss Elizabeth; you must get some rest.’ He tossed the letter onto his desk. ‘It grows late; we could speculate the whole night long and be none the wiser. Let us speak of this again on the morrow.’ He held out his hand to her without thinking. It was only as she, after a slight hesitation, took it and his fingers closed upon it that he realised what he had done. Refusing to look at his cousin, he drew Elizabeth to her feet and as she raised anxious eyes to his, he stepped a little closer. He had long considered her eyes to be the finest he had ever seen, and he—
‘Ahem.’
Darcy blinked, sending his cousin a lightning glance before giving Elizabeth’s hand a light squeeze; he felt a return of pressure from her before they dropped their hands to their sides and she turned to his cousin, who had also risen.
‘Goodnight, Colonel.’
‘I am at the service of yourself and your sister, ma’am. We will outwit Wickham in the end, have no doubt of that.’
‘Thank you.’ She turned towards the door, which Darcy held ajar before following her out into the corridor. Despite the dimness of the lamplight, he could see the worry writ clear upon her countenance; observe the uncharacteristic slump of Elizabeth’s shoulders. The urge to sweep her into his embrace, to declare himself her protector for all time, to keep her safe from whatever devious plans Wickham had up his sleeve, was almost overwhelming, and he placed his hands firmly behind his back.
Elizabeth’s eyes were wide with anxiety. ‘Forgive me, Mr Darcy, for involving you and your cousin in our troubles. I take comfort in knowing the letter’s content has been shared, to know you and your cousin are fully informed.’
‘Try not to worry too much, Miss Elizabeth.’ Unable to help himself, he freed one arm and raised a hand to gently touch her face, and she closed her eyes. Heaven help him! That hardly made things easier!
He caught his breath as she raised her own hand to place it over his before opening her eyes to meet his gaze. The look she gave him touched his heart.
‘I thank you, sir, for your... for your kindness towards me.’ Elizabeth slowly lowered her hand, as did he, and she turned to walk back along the hallway.
Darcy watched until she was swallowed by the darkness, then went back into the study and closed the door.
The colonel was pouring brandy into two glasses, and he turned and handed one to Darcy as he crossed the room to join him.
‘Though I barely know him, I cannot believe a man like Bennet would see to his own wife’s demise. You have been longer acquainted and saw him in his home environment. What is your understanding of the man’s character?’
‘I cannot believe it either. Bennet was—is—a well-respected landowner. His family has held the Longbourn estate for several generations.’ He hesitated. ‘Tho
ugh there were members of the family who did not always comport themselves as well as they ought, I saw no evidence of questionable behaviour in the man.’ Darcy sank into the chair behind his desk, recalling his visit to Netherfield, both in the year eleven and more recently. ‘Besides, if the Magistrate was called upon and found nothing untoward, that should be an end to the matter.’
‘Aye, though we know it is not always the case. Rumour alone can suffice to cause damage, even with no proof to substantiate it. One can imagine the stain upon the family. We are fortunate, are we not, born into the upper echelons of society? Families of such ranking can weather all sorts of scandal and conjecture, real or imagined. The landed gentry is equipped with little more than its respectability.’
Darcy took a slug of his drink, letting the liquid burn a trail down his throat. Though his cousin had the right of it, it was an unpalatable truth. The Bennets’ respectability and reputation had already been sullied; could they recover from further scandal, even if it had no basis in fact?
The colonel picked up the letter again, then grunted. ‘There is, of course, the one matter we did not speak of in front of Miss Elizabeth.’ He tapped the page and Darcy took it from him.
‘Or else your daughter will be at risk.’
Feeling the stirring of his temper again, Darcy screwed the letter up into a ball and hurled it at the fire, but the colonel’s hand shot out and caught it before it reached the flames.
‘Not yet, Darce. I comprehend your anger, but we must keep it intact for now if we are to be of any assistance to the family.’
It could not be denied; Darcy knew his cousin was right.
‘So,’ Colonel Fitzwilliam dropped the balled-up letter back on the desk and retook his seat. ‘What are your thoughts on this? Is it clear which daughter Wickham refers to?’
‘I believe he means Miss Elizabeth Bennet.’
The colonel narrowed his gaze. ‘I comprehend her being your first thought, Darce, but what makes you so certain?’
‘She is Bennet’s favourite. No secret was made of the fact in Hertfordshire, and Wickham would likely have been even more aware of their bond, for he spent time with the family and amongst their acquaintance. Even our Aunt Catherine mentioned something to the effect, do you not recall? She was bemoaning the lack of guided education given to the Bennet daughters after making Miss Elizabeth’s acquaintance, and spoke of the father seeming to have influence over his second eldest, but not wielding it to good effect.’
Colonel Fitzwilliam glanced over at the letter again. ‘Then we had best be on our guard over the coming days. If Bennet does not return in time to make this rendezvous, you can be certain Wickham will not let it lie.’
~o0o~
Darcy had agreed with Latimer they would meet in the former’s study soon after they had broken their fast. After a poor night’s rest, his mind tormented by futile speculation, waves of anger towards Wickham and fears for Elizabeth and her safety, Darcy stood at the window and stared out into the park.
It had been clear Elizabeth remained deeply troubled over breakfast. Whenever their eyes had met—often, despite his best endeavours, with Latimer watching him like a hawk—she had seemed torn between sadness and worry; he had no notion which was prevalent.
Darcy rested a hand against the shutter and watched the water tumbling from one of the fountains. Dare he hope she was developing some depth of feeling for him at last? The look she had bestowed upon him the previous evening as they parted, spoke of some consciousness between them, did it not?
Turning his back on the window, Darcy blew out a frustrated breath. Enough of this! As soon as he was done with Latimer he would seek Elizabeth out and offer her what reassurance he could.
A quick rap came on the door, and it opened to reveal his cousin, who closed it firmly and then surveyed Darcy with a keen eye.
‘Everyone’s indulgence in the refreshments is complete, and they have begun to disperse. I suspect Latimer will be here directly.’
‘He cannot come soon enough. Let the matter be put to rest once and for all.’
‘He will not be a happy man; not that I care a whit for his mood. Yet I would not have him making life unpleasant for those around him. Latimer has been talking all morning of selecting a mount for himself. As soon as you are done with him, I will take him up to the stables.’
The colonel glanced over Darcy’s shoulder towards the window, then let out a short laugh. ‘Talking of making life unpleasant, he has not endeared himself to the twins. Did you hear the way he spoke to them at breakfast?’
Darcy turned around. Olivia and Viola were crossing the lawn, engrossed in their conversation. There was something furtive about them, however, in the way they glanced over their shoulders and then hurried their steps.
The colonel had come to stand beside him. ‘Latimer may well reap his own reward. Take my word, those girls are up to something!’
‘Well, at least they are not heading in the direction of the woods this time.’
There was a further tap on the door, and Darcy straightened his shoulders. ‘Here we go, Cousin.’ He turned around and called, ‘Come in, Latimer,’ but as the door opened, it revealed instead Jane and Elizabeth Bennet standing hesitantly on the threshold.
Chapter Forty-Nine
‘Please, come in,’ Darcy walked over to hold the door open, and the colonel bowed as the ladies entered the room.
‘If you wish me to leave...’
‘No, sir.’ Elizabeth turned to the colonel. ‘Please—if you could be so kind, we would like you to stay.’
‘Then I do so gladly.’ He pulled forward two chairs for the ladies, as Darcy sat behind his desk, before taking a seat opposite.
‘I trust we are not intruding, Mr Darcy, but Lizzy informed me this morning of her having opened Wickham’s letter. It is not something we would have considered in normal circumstances.’ Jane met Darcy’s gaze, raising her chin in a manner evocative of her sister. ‘But this is not normal, is it, sir?’
‘No—it is not.’
‘I would like to see it, if I may?’
‘Oh! Of course!’ Darcy unlocked the drawer to his desk and pulled out the crumpled letter, which he had done his best to smooth out the night before. ‘I must apologise for...’ he gestured helplessly at the condition of the paper as Jane took it.
‘You have no need, Mr Darcy.’
Jane’s gaze dropped to the letter, and Elizabeth glanced sideways at it before looking away, as though she could not bear to see the words.
After a moment, Jane raised her eyes to Darcy. ‘So it is as Lizzy said: Wickham has a hold over Papa; something he believes him to have done.’ Jane frowned. ‘What are we to do?’ She passed the letter back to Darcy and turned to her sister, her anxiety apparent.
‘I know not.’ Elizabeth looked at Darcy. ‘Yet Wickham will be waiting for Papa—somewhere—and expecting an undisclosed sum, in but two days’ time. The only clue seems to be Buxton.’
Darcy turned the letter to study the postmark. ‘You are thinking Wickham is hiding out there?’ Jane and Elizabeth exchanged a glance.
‘We are not certain, but I think I mentioned Papa went to Buxton, Thursday last?’ Elizabeth met Darcy’s gaze again. ‘He said it was a business matter, but we have never known him go there before, for his only business dealings in Derbyshire have pertained to the tenancy of The Grange, and thus are connected solely to the Pemberley estate.’
‘Did he seem troubled, or did he seem himself?’
‘He has not been truly himself lately. He was pale and looked tired. I was concerned about him travelling, even though the distance was not great.’
The colonel stretched in his seat. ‘So it seems Buxton may be the connection indeed. But where, precisely? The ‘west entrance’ to what?’
Such speculation was not to continue, however, as yet another knock came upon the door, and Darcy blew out a frustrated breath.
‘Forgive me, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth. This will be
Latimer. I cannot—nor do I wish to—delay speaking to him. Will you allow me to keep hold of this still?’ He raised the letter, and they both nodded. ‘As soon as I am done with the gentleman, my cousin and I will turn our minds to it.’
The look of relief filling Elizabeth’s countenance was both a comfort and a concern as he placed the letter back in the drawer and turned the key. He had no notion of what they might do, but one thing was certain: something had to happen, and directly!
Darcy opened the door to meet Latimer’s keen eye, only to watch it narrow as it took in his cousin and the ladies. Jane and Elizabeth curtseyed neatly, and the latter threw Darcy a quick look as they left the room, the colonel excusing himself and following them along the hallway, but Latimer turned to watch them walk away.
‘An urgent matter of business, Latimer.’ Darcy stood aside so he could enter the room.
‘Business? With young ladies, Darcy? How singular.’
Latimer sauntered into the study and, closing the door with a snap, Darcy straightened his shoulders. If the gentleman wanted to understand Darcy’s business, then he had best open his ears. He invited Latimer to take a seat before reclaiming his own. The desk seemed a fitting barrier between them, and he wasted no time in opening the conversation.
‘I trust you and your family are comfortably settled at Pemberley?’
‘Indeed, Darcy. You have a finely tuned household; we could ask for nothing more.’
‘I am pleased to hear it.’
‘Speaking of being pleased to hear things, an announcement would be as good as anything.’ Latimer fixed him with his eye. ‘I trust you will not keep my daughter waiting much longer?’
Darcy leaned back in his seat, feigning a nonchalance he did not feel. ‘I suspected you anticipated some sort of offer to be forthcoming. It is why I was determined to speak with you. I am afraid I must disappoint you.’
‘I do not think you will.’ Latimer leaned forward. ‘Do not fear, sir. Eleanor’s manner is not inviting towards anyone. She will accept you.’
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