Fitzwilliam Darcy, Guardian

by Jennifer Joy

  “It is wrong when it threatens those for whom you are responsible.”

  He shrugged. “The shops will be eager to lend to me when they find out I will inherit the Darcy fortune.”

  “Your daughter. Anne. Not you,” Elizabeth retorted.

  Another shrug. “Is there any difference?”

  Darcy knew what the answer would be before he asked, but he would attempt the unlikely. “I will offer to cover your debts — all of them. You can leave here knowing no creditors will bother you or send their thugs out to hunt you down. I will even give you an additional five hundred pounds for you to live on as long as you are able.”

  Wickham leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “To what do I credit this sudden generosity? What do you get for this exchange?”

  “You sign Anne’s guardianship over to me.”

  Leaning back and crossing a booted foot over his knee, Wickham laughed. “That is rich! As if I would tempted to give up this?” He waved his arm about him.

  Elizabeth stood, and Darcy grabbed her hand lest she attack Wickham. “Do you not see the advantage to you? Are you so confident you will inherit? I could be with child at this moment.”

  That got Wickham’s attention. “Are you?” he asked.

  The room fell silent.

  Mrs. Gardiner clutched her fichu.

  Darcy clenched his jaw. That had been the one argument he had not been willing to address — for Elizabeth’s sake and for his own. Wickham had already dealt treacherously with his family. Who was to say he would not do it again? They would never be free of Wickham. They would forever have to look over their shoulders.

  Lifting her chin, Elizabeth said, “It is too soon to know, but all it would take is one child, and your chances of getting anything are gone. What will you do with Anne then?”

  The chill in Wickham’s voice sent needles prickling down Darcy’s spine. “The chances of you producing an heir are about as high as Darcy’s meeting a premature death, I would say. Besides, the women in this household do not often survive childbirth.”

  Darcy’s voice shook as he addressed Mr. Hanslock. “You would trust a man with the life of a small child when he clearly threatens me and my wife?”

  Wickham scoffed. “It is a fact. Can you deny the cause of your mother and sister’s deaths? Will you claim to be immortal when many of our Cambridge chums are dead from sickness or some accident?”

  Mr. Hanslock frowned. “What Mr. Wickham says is true.”

  Had the man no feeling at all?

  He continued, “My position as magistrate demands I uphold and enforce the law. I will see your daughter restored to you, Mr. Wickham, as she is yours to maintain. No man is above the law, and Mr. Darcy will suffer the consequences of his offense. However, I will warn you. Stay out of Derbyshire. If any accident should befall the Darcys, you would be the first person I would suspect.”

  While Darcy appreciated Mr. Hanslock’s display of sense, it did not change anything. They were going to lose Anne. Darcy tried to keep his composure, but he nearly broke down when Mrs. Bamber appeared with his niece just then.

  “Ah, my beautiful daughter. The image of her mother, I think,” said Wickham. He did not rise from his chair or move to hold his offspring. While Darcy was glad of it, it was another proof in the long list of reasons why Wickham ought not to be entrusted with her.

  Elizabeth’s arm slipped around William’s waist. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pressing her to his side, grateful for her strength when his world once again threatened to crumble.

  Wickham leaned forward, tapping his fingers together. “You have made your arguments, and they have been rebutted. Now, allow me to make a counteroffer. I will sign Anne over to you, witnessed by the magistrate himself so that it is beyond contestation.”

  Darcy listened with baited breath and a hammering heart.

  “I see I have your attention, as well I should when I can give you everything you want. You wish to honor your promise to Georgiana and raise her child? I will allow it. On one condition.”

  He paused.

  If Darcy spoke, he would betray his eagerness. Elizabeth, too, tightened her grip around Darcy’s waist, but she did not say anything. He nodded for Wickham to continue.

  Rubbing his hands together, Wickham said, “I will give you Anne’s guardianship if you swear to me before this room of witnesses that you will separate from your wife. You must never have children. It is that simple really: Anne or your wife. You must choose.”

  Darcy had gone to great lengths to prove himself unlike Wickham, and now the fiend would have him betray his wife? To act as Mr. Bennet had toward the daughter he had claimed to love? No. A million times, no.

  Filled with renewed ire, Darcy growled, “How dare you demand that I choose between a niece I adore and a wife I love with all my heart. I will never stop fighting to keep Anne, but I will not break the vows I gave to Elizabeth. I love her.”

  Chapter 33

  Elizabeth’s heart skipped, and she bit her cheeks to keep from smiling. Her glee was great, but she could not display her happiness with Wickham in the room.

  William loved her! He would not trade her for his heart’s desire. She was his heart’s desire!

  She looked up at William, waiting until he met her gaze before saying, “And I love you.”

  Like a menacing cloud intent on raining on Elizabeth’s parade, Wickham stood to his feet and pointed at William. “You fool! I will take everything from you just as you have denied me of that which ought to be mine.”

  Elizabeth saw a sparkle. She blinked to ensure it was real. Still there. She had not noticed it before, but it was plain to see the pillow-shaped diamond pierced in the center of his cravat now. It was an unusual cut. She knew where she had seen it before.

  How had it come to be in Wickham’s possession?

  Her body fluttered with nervous excitement; it was difficult to think clearly. Could it be that simple?

  Elizabeth glanced at her aunt. She wished she could ask her about the article she had read the day before in the paper. Had the stolen jewels belonged to the wealthy widow with whom Wickham had been riding in the carriage?

  Was Wickham a jewel thief? All of their problems would be settled if she could prove he was. Mr. Hanslock took his duties too seriously to overlook such a crime. And while he would permit Anne to be raised in a debtor’s prison, Newgate was another matter entirely.

  Elizabeth’s mind hummed. Where was the proof?

  First, there was Wickham’s history of entitlement. That was a good one; it established motive.

  Second, he had a history of theft. Aunt Gardiner had told them that, and she was present to confirm it. Good.

  Now, that left the wealthy widow. A woman such as she would not shy away from the attention the papers would give her if her jewels were stolen. In fact, Elizabeth imagined that a woman such as she would enjoy the attention. All they had to do was ask her directly…. What a pity London was not closer to Pemberley.

  What of Wickham’s complete disregard for William’s generous offer? He had not been tempted at all. Could that be because he already had a supply of money by selling the widow’s cut up diamond necklace?

  It was not enough evidence to convince a jury, but it was enough to convince Elizabeth.

  Wickham continued, “Is it not enough that you flaunt your wealth and privilege in my face? I am not so destitute as you believe me to be. Your threats mean nothing to me.”

  As if to reaffirm Elizabeth’s suspicions, he spun the diamond between his fingers.

  It was time to voice her suspicion.

  “You are not destitute you say? And yet, my husband has presented you with a stack of bills representing a small fortune.”

  Wickham’s face turned red and he sat. “I will manage as I always do.”

  “Yes, I have heard how you manage. Stealing is hardly the solution.”

  Mr. Hanslock shot her a stern look. “That is a serious accusation, Mrs. Darcy.”r />
  “Lies. I could equally accuse you of stealing my daughter,” snapped Wickham.

  Elizabeth would finish what she had started. She continued, “I have it on excellent authority that over the years you have stolen several items from the shop at Lambton.”

  Aunt nodded her support.

  Wickham snarled, “That was years ago. You can hardly hold me accountable for something that was settled so long ago.”

  “So, you admit it. Thank you, Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth said, growing in confidence when she saw how intently Mr. Hanslock listened. “Stealing little trifles is not enough anymore, though, is it? Your debts are so grand, you woo your way into the confidence of wealthy widows, then take their jewels.”

  “Absurd!” Wickham cried.

  “Is it? I saw that same diamond on a lady’s necklace in London. You stole it from her, and you have been using the money from the gemstones to pay off your debts. Can you deny it?” Elizabeth watched the magistrate and Wickham.

  The thief stood. “This is absurd! Hand over my child. I wish to leave.”

  “Sit down, Mr. Wickham,” Mr. Hanslock ordered. “I am well enough aware of your habits to doubt your sudden change of fortune. How did you come to possess the diamond in your cravat?”

  Wickham sat down stiffly. “It was given to me by a lady as a gift. It is mine.”

  “What is the lady’s name?” Elizabeth asked, her gaze now bouncing between Wickham and her aunt, who would surely react when she heard him pronounce the name of the lady about whom she had read in the paper.

  “That is no concern of yours. The lady gave them to me. She can have no interest in what I choose to do with them now that they are mine.”

  Madame Givenchy stepped forward. “Oh, but you are wrong, Mr. Wickham. Her ladyship is very much interested.”

  Elizabeth felt ten feet tall. This was it! Wickham would be charged with the theft of the wealthy widow’s jewels. All they had to do was charge him with the crime, and the courts would take care of the rest. He would have to sign Anne over or else give her to Chancery. Her stomach clenched. Oh, no, that would not do. He would sooner let Chancery find a place for Anne than leave her with them. He would do it out of pure spite.

  The reeling of her mind came to an abrupt halt when Madame Givenchy said, “Her ladyship’s name is Lady Priscilla. Her husband died one year ago.”

  “We will write to her immediately—” Elizabeth began.

  Madame interrupted. “I am afraid it would do no good. You see, Lady Priscilla recently had some gowns made by me, and I am apprised of her … shall we call them … paramours? I can confirm that Lady Priscilla did, in fact, give her diamonds to this man.”

  Elizabeth steadied herself against William’s arm. Her heart dropped, but she would hold herself upright.

  It could not be.

  Madame smiled coyly. “Ah, but there are other secrets worth more than diamond necklaces, oui?”

  Wickham’s face blanched, and he wiped his forehead. He was worried.

  “Her ladyship already has several gowns ready for her return to society next week,” Madame explained. “I know because I made them. They are divinely scandalous. She will be all the rage.”

  Where was Madame going with this?

  “There is no reason to bring Lady Priscilla into this.” Wickham crossed his feet, attempting to look unaffected.

  Oh, but he was very affected. Madame was on to something, and Elizabeth only waited to know what it was so she could gain them some advantage over him. Anything they could use to bargain for Anne.

  Madame tapped her fingers against her chin, reveling in the attention. “I wonder how Lady Priscilla will like having to share the attention of her betrothed with the baby of his first wife.”

  “Betrothed?” William gasped.

  Madame gasped, daintily covering her lips with her fingers. “Did I say that? It was supposed to be a secret.”

  How about that? Secrets had created this mess, and it looked like Wickham’s secret might help them secure Anne.

  Chapter 34

  Darcy knew Wickham had married Georgiana for her dowry, but the news of his engagement to another wealthy benefactress felt like a slap in the face of his sister’s memory. Georgie had only been gone three months.

  He knew Madame Givenchy had given them a valuable piece of information, but his thoughts were too conflicted to focus on how best to exploit it for Anne’s benefit.

  Not so with Elizabeth. She said, “I wonder what Lady Priscilla will think of Mr. Wickham when she discovers he is using her to pay his debts? That she will not only have to pay for his keep, but for that of his child?”

  Mrs. Gardiner opined, “One might draw the conclusion that Mr. Wickham’s affection was not so strong as his need for money. If her ladyship married for security the first time, surely, she wishes to marry for love the second.”

  “She will not be affected. You think you have something on me, but you do not, so you had best guard your silence,” Wickham hissed.

  Darcy was ready to rise in Mrs. Gardiner’s defense, but the lady smiled at him softly through her pinched lips. What did she know?

  Elizabeth tilted her head. “Really? She will not be affected? I do not hold any delusions that you intend to take your daughter into your home, Mr. Wickham, but I have to wonder if you have truly considered the cost of raising a child. Even if you hand her off to another family, you will be responsible for her clothing, food, instruction…,” she counted on her fingers. “Too many things to mention, but you will have to foot the bill for every single one of them until the day Anne marries.”

  Darcy understood her. If she turned the advantage Wickham thought he had into a responsibility, he might not want it anymore. Judging from Mr. Hanslock’s nod, Elizabeth’s assumptions were correct. More than that, Wickham had to be forced to see he could not have both.

  “Are you willing to risk the security and comfort you have now for the uncertain prospect of inheriting years — decades — from now? You gamble enough to know the odds are not in your favor,” Darcy added.

  It was plain Wickham thought he could marry his widow, biding his time easily until Pemberley was his. Well, there were many more obstacles in his way than that, and Darcy took pleasure in pointing them out. “You would need to ensure you have enough capital to raise Anne. Children, especially girls, are costly. You could not choose just any family to raise her, if that was your intention. She will have to be brought up as a gentleman’s daughter, or your negligence would reflect poorly on you were she ever to inherit. Aside from the constant employ of a nurse, Anne will need a governess, several tutors, and, later when she enters society, a companion.”

  Elizabeth took his lead and expanded upon it. “Do not forget all the fineries and fripperies a young lady requires. Even a simple wardrobe is costly, and rightly so” — she added with a smile at Madame Givenchy — “as you will find out for yourself soon enough. You will have to ensure Anne is dressed in style. I imagine Lady Priscilla will have opinions about Anne’s dowry. If you spread the word that you stand to inherit Pemberley, you will have to put up a pretty sum. Let us hope her ladyship is understanding and generous, or it will fall squarely on your shoulders to maintain your daughter.”

  Wickham did not squirm in his chair, but he was abnormally still. The thought of spending money on anyone but himself must have been most distasteful.

  Watching him, Darcy said, “Anne is not a secret any longer, nor should she remain one. Does Lady Priscilla like children?”

  Madame Givenchy answered when Wickham did not. “She despises them.”

  “How inconvenient for you, Mr. Wickham. I will write to her ladyship today,” Elizabeth said, starting as if she meant to perform the task right then.

  Wickham dabbed his face when she was partway across the floor.

  If they were going to strike, now was the time. Darcy was confident his offer would be tempting, for what did Wickham crave more than instant gratification?


  “It is your choice, Wickham. Which will serve you better? The waning possibility of inheriting Pemberley when you are too old to enjoy it or spend your fortune? If you insist on this course, we will inform Lady Priscilla of everything we have discussed here … as well as the other discretions of which we are aware. She will not want you after she learns what we have to tell her. Your life of leisure will be over the moment you set foot outside this house. You can count on it.” Darcy paused, letting Wickham sweat. Then, slowly, he added, “I will, however, give you a choice. Sign Anne’s guardianship over to me, and we will keep our silence. Anne would no longer be your concern. We will disappear from your life, and you can carry on without the responsibilities which would burden you.”

  Grayson slipped a piece of paper, a quill pen, and an ink pot onto the table beside Wickham. He had been paying attention.

  Mr. Gardiner and his wife leaned forward, watching, waiting.

  Madame Givenchy fanned her face, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on Wickham.

  Darcy was afraid to breathe lest his and Elizabeth’s arguments fall like a house of cards. But he trusted Wickham’s greedy nature. He would not want to wait when he could have immediate satisfaction. Darcy was hopeful. Everyone was hopeful. Hopeful and waiting.

  Elizabeth’s patience ran out. Continuing to the door, she said, “If nothing is to be done here, then I shall start my letter. I have a great deal to write.”

  Wickham flinched. “You will not tell her ladyship?”

  Elizabeth replied, “If you give us Anne’s guardianship, I will not say anything. So far as I am concerned, once you sign that paper, you are no longer her father.” She looked at Mr. Hanslock, who offered his view.

  “Once you sign over guardianship, you have no claim on your child. It is not a decision to be made hastily.”

  Darcy bit his lips together when he saw Elizabeth struggle to hide her scowl.

  Mr. Gardiner cleared his throat. “Wise advice, but the detriment of many negotiations. One must seize opportunity when it presents itself lest circumstances change — unless you are confident in the constancy of her ladyship’s affection. Lady Priscilla has been alone in London for several days now, and she might easily succumb to ennui. Worse yet, she may doubt the strength of your affection when you fail to attend to her so soon after she has accepted your offer of marriage. Tarry if you must but know that it is at your own peril.”