Mr. Darcy's Promise

by Jeanna Ellsworth

  *****

  As Elizabeth walked the three miles to Longbourn, her mind wandered to the many events that had occurred over the last few weeks. She had gone from feeling forced to marry William, to knowing he was the only one she could have ever been happy with. She had watched the changes in herself as well. She felt stronger and more devoted to her convictions than ever before. She felt loved and wanted, and had grown to love William slowly, but felt it so deeply that she knew she was ready to be with him completely. She wanted to be his wife and to love him in every way.

  She trusted him completely; ironically, she had she realized this after the one incident where he had showed himself to be untrustworthy. She laughed. He gave her his word that he would talk to Bingley, and the fact that he didn’t was the only reason she now trusted him entirely. If she hadn’t seen his peaceful form, she would have never slept in his arms, and finally conquered the fears she once had about becoming intimate.

  She had to admit that she understood all too well that any changes to the relationship would be her responsibility. She cringed at the prospect of having to actually admit to such a thing. How does one tell her husband she has been married to for almost six weeks that she is ready to be with him physically? Simply thinking about it made her blush. At one point she had felt grateful for his promise he made in the carriage on their wedding day, but at the moment, the promise was one she loathed. Knowing him, he would be even more trustworthy after he failed with the attempts to speak with Bingley. Although a little vexed with his promise, she loved him all the more. Some promises, Elizabeth had learned, were sometimes made to be broken. Someday she would have to explain it to him.

  She opened the door to her old home without alerting any servants. It still creaked when she opened it, something she used to hate when she would sneak out to go walking, but now it brought her comfort. The front hall was empty, but she walked around to see her father’s study door was open. She peeked in to see her father pouring over a book. “Good morning, Papa!”

  “Lizzy! Come in!” He stood up and embraced her. He took her shoulders in his hands and examined her. “You look well. How is married life treating you? Sit down, have some tea. Hill just brought in a fresh pot.”

  Elizabeth sat, smiling at her father before she poured the tea, adding sugar to both their cups. Even the typical absence of milk gave her a pang of nostalgia. She waited before he had taken a sip to speak. “Married life is good, Papa. In fact, it has turned out much better than I had even hoped it would.”

  Mr. Bennet felt relief overcome him. She had written a few times, but it was always more of a travel log then expressing her feelings. He had questioned his decision to insist on her marrying Mr. Darcy many times. His only consolation was that during the engagement Mr. Darcy had shown himself to be a gentleman, and he saw true affection and respect from him. He suspected that Elizabeth resisted the marriage because she hadn’t recognized her own feelings for the man. “So, Lizzy, you are happy?”

  “Yes, indeed. Much happier than I would have been with Mr. Wickham.” She sipped her tea to overcome her wave of revulsion at the name.

  “Mr. Wickham? That officer? What does he have to do with it? I saw you danced with him once, but I did not know you had feelings for him.” Mr. Bennet had an uneasy sense of being off-balance at the mention of Mr. Wickham. It was like he should know something that he didn’t.

  Elizabeth looked at her father in confusion. “I am just glad you did not make me marry Mr. Wickham, that is all.”

  “Why would I do that?” He sat back in bewilderment.

  “Because he compromised me at the Netherfield ball! Why else?” Elizabeth had the uncanny sense that she might as well be speaking Ancient Greek.

  “It was Mr. Darcy who compromised you, sweetheart. I saw it with my own two eyes, and even though I am advancing in age, I trust that those faculties may still be reliable.”

  It came on Elizabeth in a flash that her father did not know about Wickham’s advances, which meant Darcy had never told him. “My husband never explained what happened?”

  “Why should he? I saw it for myself. My darling Lizzy, I am beginning to feel there is something I am missing. Would you care to enlighten me? As you know, I do not like feeling ignorant, especially when you tell me it was someone else that compromised you.”

  He listened intently to her tale. She spoke first of Wickham’s flattery and partiality for her, which he had already seen for himself, and then returned to Georgiana’s obvious anxiety around the man. It didn’t take Mr. Bennet very long to realize his anonymous letter about Wickham was probably from Mr. Darcy and about Georgiana.

  The events of the ball were shown to him in an entirely new light. She told him of them going out to the balcony in all innocence and had been rewarded with Wickham pushing himself on her–– his favorite daughter, no less! He felt a knot in the pit of his stomach as he listened to her detail her unsuccessful efforts to resist. He could not believe the man would do such a thing! And it was apparently comfort and protection that Darcy had been offering. “So it was not Darcy who was kissing you? He had rescued you?”

  “Yes, Papa. I attempted to explain— I kept trying to tell you all that night and all the next morning, but you would not listen to me. I finally gave up and concluded that Mr. Darcy would explain everything to you. I take it he did not.” Elizabeth studied her father’s face. Was it all clear to him now? He still looked quite confused.

  “Indeed he did not, and I cannot think of a single reason why he would not have done so! What I do not understand is this, Lizzy, why did he agree to marry you then? Why did he let me insist on him honoring your reputation? Why did he feel the need to take you as his wife when a little explanation would have absolved him of guilt?” None of this made any sense.

  Elizabeth said, “I have asked him twice, and twice he has promised to tell me. I would sorely like to know myself.”

  *****

  Mr. Darcy had found Colonel Forster easily enough but was not pleased with what he learned. “Wickham is not here? Where did he go?”

  “He asked for leave a few days ago and I granted it to him the next day. He was supposed to meet up with us in Brighton. I do not know where he went. And, sir, this question may be impertinent, but may I ask why you are so intent on finding him? I do not mean to offend, but I doubt a gentleman like yourself has need of an officer like Wickham. Unless he has done something? I am afraid that his financial obligations have greatly overcome his income. I have heard quite a few complaints from the other officers about his gambling debts, and as many merchants state he owes them a great deal as well.”

  Darcy was most displeased with this news. He had hoped that finding him would not be difficult. He had hoped that Wickham being stationed in Meryton ensured that he would be here for the next five days. “It is both personal and business, I am afraid. He contacted me and wished to meet with me.” Perhaps if he could lay down the hint that Darcy wished to meet with Wickham, rumors would begin to circulate and get back to Wickham. He then had an idea. “Is there anyone I can speak with who might know where he went? I understand he was close to a Mr. Denny.”

  Colonel Forster laughed, “Ha, the key word is ‘was.’ They were as thick as thieves up until the night before Wickham asked for leave. Word has it that Wickham owes Denny a large sum of money which was promised a few weeks ago. I can see if Denny knows anything.”

  Darcy knew Wickham better than anyone, and consequently knew where Wickham was most vulnerable. His desperation was clearly communicated through his resorting to threats and extortion for money. Money was the key piece here. Wickham needed it and Darcy had it. If he had learned anything from his father it was that money could not purchase happiness, but it might provide him with opportunities. If he could find this Mr. Denny, pay him what Wickham owed him in exchange for information on Wickham, he might just have a chance at finding him. “I think I would like to speak with Mr. Denny myself. I might have a business proposition for h
im.” He hoped that he made it sound financially promising enough that Colonel Forster would comply. He watched as Colonel Forster rubbed his jaw, obviously contemplating whether or not to hand Denny over to him or not.

  “I do not want any trouble. Denny has been a good officer.”

  “I do not doubt it, Colonel. I intend no trouble to Mr. Denny. I am simply very motivated in finding Wickham.” He patted his vest pocket to emphasize his intentions.

  “He might be willing to speak with you if it is for the reasons you are implying.” He went to the tent door and told the officer waiting outside to get Mr. Denny. He came back and sat down. “I hope you know what you are doing.” They waited in silence for quite some time, broken only by Colonel Forster offering him a drink.

  Darcy laughed, “No sir, I do not drink anymore, I have had too many bad experiences with the vile stuff. It makes one irresponsible, mean-spirited, and quite clumsy. I have always regretted it when I do imbibe. I think anything that alters one’s ability to make one’s decisions should be avoided. This lesson I have learned most regretfully.”

  “Fair enough, the stuff you are used to is probably much better than mine anyway.” Colonel Forester poured himself a drink and began sipping it. The early hour was no detriment. He was in the army after all, and like all the other soldiers, had a hollow leg for the stuff.

  Mr. Darcy took out his pocketwatch. It was eleven in the morning. His headache had given him a late start. A few more minutes passed before he heard voices outside of the tent. He stood up, turned, and faced the opening. Mr. Denny came in, looked him up and down, and then turned to Colonel Forster.

  “What is the meaning of all this?” Mr. Denny asked. He felt cornered by the situation. Why was the man who ruined his chances of ever getting paid by Wickham here in the Colonel’s tent? Wickham had promised him double or nothing to retrieve Mr. Bennet, and Denny had done exactly as he was told. He should have gotten paid. It wasn’t his fault that someone else found them before they got there. He eyed Mr. Darcy suspiciously. Was he going to be in trouble? He quickly reviewed his actions that night and deemed that nothing he did was illegal. Conniving, perhaps, but not illegal. If he was punished because of Wickham’s plan he would personally kill Wickham himself! That cheat wasn’t worth it, not in the slightest.

  Darcy’s head began to pound harder as his heart rate increased. He needed to speak with Denny alone, but he wasn’t sure that any associate of Wickham would consent to it. He saw distrust and fear in Denny’s eyes; hardly a good start. Mr. Darcy patted his vest pocket where he kept his money and, raising his eyebrows, said, “Would you mind speaking with me for a minute? I might have something you need.”

  Mr. Denny looked at him. Was he trying to bribe him into speaking with him? When he looked at his fine clothes and saw his gentlemanly manners, he immediately thought of those “gentlemen” who would take advantage of his mother. He didn’t trust them, especially those that opened with offers of money. It was one thing to live a free life with the women, like he did, but to profess to be a gentleman and act in the same manner was despicable in his eyes. “I do not think there is anything you can say to me that I desire to hear. And there is definitely nothing I need from you.”

  Darcy ignored Colonel Forster’s presence in the room. “How much? I mean, Mr. Denny, how much did Wickham promise you, because I am prepared to double it.” He saw the surprise in Denny’s face followed by a twitch of the upper lip. “Just give me a moment of your time. That is all I am asking.” He started walking towards the tent door and held open the flap, motioning Denny to go through it. His years of negotiation had taught him to give the other party the appearance of the upper hand without granting them any actual power. Denny slowly walked out of the tent and Darcy followed. Darcy took the lead, another thing he learned from years of business propositions, and led the way to the trees off to the right. One had to make the decisions but make it seem like the choice was still there for the other to agree or disagree, when in reality there was only one option.

  “Look here, Mr. Darcy. I do not know what you think you want from me, but it is not worth it. I do not know anything.” The fact that Mr. Darcy opened with doubling Wickham’s offer only meant Darcy was desperate, and that put Denny in a very good position to negotiate for more.

  “Let us start off with some honesty. I know Wickham wanted Mr. Bennet to witness Wickham kissing Elizabeth, and I know you were a key player in making sure that happened. Since it did not happen the way it was supposed to, I am guessing you never got paid. Am I accurate?” Darcy didn’t have time to play games. He needed answers.

  “I did not do anything illegal if that is what you are getting at. It was Wickham’s idea.”

  “I take that as confirmation that Wickham indeed did not pay you. Let us get to the point. I need Wickham. I have a business proposition for him, and it is one that, if you play your cards right, you might profit in more ways than one.” Darcy saw the suspicious look cross Denny’s face.

  “How so? You think you are going to pay me double what he owes me and then pay him so he can pay me too? That is . . .” A better plan than I could think of! He was suddenly very interested in this option. Without realizing it, he licked his lips. He could feel the financial freedom just beyond his reach, tantalizing him. “I confess that is an interesting idea.”

  “Indeed, you are a great deal cleverer than Wickham gives you credit for.” Flattery was always a good tool with negotiations. “Now, we can work out the numbers later but my word is my bond. I will pay you, but you must give me Wickham. He has something of value of mine and I would like it back.” Then realizing it sounded like his plan was simply to find Wickham, which it was, instead of paying the man, which it wasn’t, he added, “And I am planning to pay the price he dictated in his letter. I am prepared to pay whatever it takes, but I am limited in my business ventures if I do not know where to find the man.”

  Mr. Denny struggled silently for a moment. Wickham owed him over six months’ salary, and he was going to pay him double to retrieve Mr. Bennet. If Mr. Darcy doubled that still . . . that meant nearly three years of salary in his pockets. It did not take him long to realize he really was smarter than Wickham. Mr. Darcy was, if nothing else, at least good for the money. “And if I do not know much? Are you still going to pay me?”

  “As long as it is all you know. I am not paying you to withhold secrets from me.” Darcy knew he had the man in his grip; he could see him folding right before his eyes. Denny rubbed his chin before he began to pace.

  “A couple of nights ago he and I got into a fight. A couple of good punches, that is all. I did not really hurt him much. For weeks he had told me that I would get my money any day. I told him I needed it and I was not about to let his debt of honor go unnoticed any longer.”

  Darcy resisted the urge to pace. “Can we just get to the point? Where is Wickham now?”

  “He said he was heading north for a more ‘profitable business’ opportunity. He said he knew how to get the money he owed me and that I should be patient. He claimed he would be gone no more than a week. He said it was two days north of here so he would meet me in Brighton after the militia transferred there.” Denny watched as Darcy flinched at this news. “He said he grew up there and knew it like the back of his hand and he also said something like ‘by now I should be expected to show up on their doorstep.’”

  Wickham was going to Pemberley? He felt a little nausea come on. “When exactly did he leave? What day and how was he traveling?”

  “I believe it was Tuesday right after lunch. He traveled by post; I know because I lent him the money. Are you going to pay me for that as well?” Denny watched Darcy fall silent, deep in thought for a moment. Had he gone too far and asked for too much?

  Today was Friday and it usually took three days of comfortable travel to get from Meryton to Pemberley. Elizabeth and he had traveled uncomfortably long days and made it all the way to London in two. Suddenly the truth hit him; Wickham could al
ready be there! Georgiana! Darcy realized that his hasty departure could very well contain the worst timing possible. Even if he left today, and traveled on Sunday, which he didn’t normally do, Georgiana would be at risk for at least four days before he returned.

  Wickham was dangerous when he felt desperate. Wickham was unpredictable, unstable, and yet very good at his conniving ways. Darcy’s nausea worsened and he swallowed the fluids in his mouth before he spoke.

  “Was he armed?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know for sure because there was little he could do about it until at least two and a half days from now.

  Denny nodded. “Yes, he was dressed in his uniform and he took his pistol with him. He said he needed a little ‘negotiation power.’ Look here, Darcy, that is all I know. Truly. I was not all that happy with him and had already succumbed to the realization that I would never see that money again but I took it as a gamble. If I lent him the traveling money, I might actually get back what he owes me. Now can I have my money?”

  “Certainly. You were most helpful.” He didn’t like the news he got from him, but Darcy couldn’t deny that it had been helpful. As he wrote out the bank note for the amount Denny claimed, he once again felt the need to vomit. Colonel Fitzwilliam was perfectly capable of protecting Georgiana. He knew that. But at the present moment, Richard was completely ignorant of Wickham’s plans. Even as he signed his name to the draft, he began crafting a plan.

  He would send an express in the next hour, pay the rider double what he normally would for them to ride hard and fast, and hopefully the horseback rider will get there by tomorrow afternoon. He and Elizabeth would leave today—hopefully in the next two hours, or they would end up traveling in the dark before they arrived at their country estate north of here. Then tomorrow, Saturday, they would leave for the day and a half ride to Pemberley. But before they left Meryton, he wanted to complete one task remaining to him. That was the jeweler’s. He wanted his pocketwatch and Elizabeth’s necklace back and knowing Wickham, he pawned them for the much-needed money.