Darcy’s blood was pounding in his ears, but over it, he heard a sound very much like a sledgehammer hitting a melon. He turned to see Wickham’s stunned face, his nose flattened against his right cheek, and then a spurt and flow of blood. The colonel had done what Darcy had wanted to do.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” screamed Wickham, holding his face.
Darcy sighed. “Thank you, Cousin, for doing what I should have done. But a broken nose presents its own problems.”
“Fitzwilliam, you bastard!” Wickham sat and rocked from side to side with his bleeding face in his hands.
“Oh? I fail to see any problem,” the colonel replied equably.
“Well, for one thing, we must now involve a doctor who will report Wickham was attacked,” Darcy explained.
“I think you mistake the matter, Cousin. This man was resisting arrest.”
Darcy smiled. “Of course. Silly of me.” He bowed to his cousin and then stepped out to the hallway, sending the first servant he saw for a physician. He re-entered the sitting room and approached Wickham. “I wonder how Lydia Bennet will like being married to a man who wears the scars of a pugilist. That nose is broken unless I am very much mistaken.”
“Damn you, Darcy!” was Wickham’s next coherent comment.
“Me?” Darcy chuckled. “I did not strike you. I ought to have, and I might yet, but I did not break your nose, sir.” He turned to his cousin. “Fitzwilliam, I will seek Miss Lydia now if you will await the doctor. I shall return directly.”
Darcy took his hat and left them. He found a maid to take him up a frail flight of stairs to Wickham’s room. He tapped upon the door and bid the maid enter before him to ascertain Miss Lydia Bennet was at least in a dressing gown, but she was fully dressed.
“Mr Darcy! La! What are you doing here?” Lydia snorted in alarm.
“Good afternoon, Miss Bennet. I am happy to see you, too. Your family sends their regards, and I can report that, other than being worried for your safety, they are well.”
Lydia looked quite vexed. “They know I am with Wickham and shortly to be married? Oh! I so particularly asked Mrs Forster to keep this to herself until I could write to my sisters and surprise them!”
Darcy unconsciously shook his head. “Surely, you must realise an escapade such as this would be widely reported and alarms sounded. Think of the dishonour you bring upon your generous hosts — Wickham’s colonel, no less — and the position of your sisters now that you are shamed.”
Lydia laughed. “What shame? It is their shame that I shall be the first of my sisters married as Jane becomes an old maid! Is it not a wonderful joke? I married! And to the handsome George Wickham, Lizzy’s particular favourite.”
“But you are not married, are you?”
Lydia pouted. “No, not yet, but I shall be.” No unpleasantness was a match for Lydia’s ignorant optimism.
“Why are you not yet married?”
“Oh, la, it is all so tiresome. Wickham has told me…some business of his being owed for debts. He is too generous lending the other officers money. He said something about selling his commission, and then we shall be wed. I am sorry he will no longer be in regimentals, but it does not signify. Oh! I had so wanted to be the one to write to my mother and sisters as Mrs Wickham. The youngest, the first married! Imagine it!”
“Imagining this ambition is all you may ever do, Miss Bennet. You have not heard the latest news. Your eldest sister will be no spinster. She has lately become engaged to Charles Bingley.”
The turn of Lydia’s countenance changed in a heartbeat from blissful to tearful. “What? Oh, no! Is a date set? Oh, Lord…”
Darcy closed his eyes. What a loathsome, useless creature. How is it possible she and Elizabeth are sisters? He opened his eyes. “You are not happy for her?” There was a pause and no response but sniffles from Lydia. “In truth, I have not heard a date is set. The betrothal is recent. If you wish to be the first Bennet to marry, you must not allow Wickham to dawdle about his business.”
“Indeed, I shall not allow it.”
Lovely thought, Darcy mused, now Lydia will become a scold. “You do have another option, Miss Lydia. If you now think better of marrying Wickham, I will transport you to your uncle’s house immediately, where your father awaits. If you have any doubts or wish to preserve your honour, it is not too late.”
“Leave Wickham and break his heart? He dotes on me and will make me a jolly husband. We are already having such a merry time. What call have I to leave my handsome Wickham?”
Darcy looked around the squalid room. “As to Wickham being handsome, you may have to get used to some alteration, madam. He has run afoul of a superior officer just now, and you might find him less charming when next you see him. But he may heal well…who can say? It depends on the skill of the physician at setting his nose.”
Lydia met this report with obvious confusion. Without waiting for further remarks, Darcy tipped his hat and left the room.
A doctor was attending a cursing Wickham when Darcy returned to the sitting room. He pulled his highly diverted cousin away from overseeing the ministrations to Wickham’s nose and the screams at every attempt to correct its displacement.
Darcy whispered, “Miss Lydia is unashamed of her actions. The only thing to give her upset is learning, unless matters speed up mightily, Jane Bennet will be married before she is, and that, of all things, is Lydia’s chief concern.”
Fitzwilliam chuckled softly.
Darcy pursued another thought. “I would like to set a guard upon this place, Cousin, to watch Wickham’s every movement. Can you manage it? I fear we must go forward with a marriage negotiation, loathsome as that will be for all concerned. It would be like Wickham to attempt an escape.”
“I know some men, Darcy. This can be easily done.”
Wickham created a louder uproar as his head was tipped back and a squishing sound announced the realignment of his nose upon its underpinnings. He spat blood as cotton was stuffed into his nostrils. When he looked down again, Fitzwilliam and Darcy laughed.
“Isn’t there a creature from the New World that looks like that?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.
The doctor looked at his patient. “Yes, the Americans call it a raccoon. It has a mask of dark fur around its eyes. This gentleman is quick to bruise.”
“He is not a gentleman, which may account for it,” Darcy observed. As the physician cleaned and repacked his bag, Darcy handed him several coins. “You understand he was resisting arrest?”
“Yes, sir. I have seen the colonel’s document.”
“Fine. We have an understanding,” Darcy confirmed.
“If you have any inclination to mercy, sir, you might stand the patient to a bottle of brandy,” the physician suggested as he took his leave.
Darcy smiled. “What say you, Cousin? Brandy?”
Fitzwilliam laughed. “I doubt what they serve here is drinkable, but we will never know if we do not try.”
Darcy stepped into the hall, and with ready money, the proprietress was delighted to provide a dusty, unopened bottle of brandy and three tumblers of dubious cleanliness.
“I would not worry about the smears on the glasses, Darcy,” Fitzwilliam said when he noticed the scepticism in his cousin’s eyes. “This alcohol should kill anything living.” The two gentlemen drank to each other’s health and noted the liquor was not so vile after all. “I believe we are to apportion the lion’s share to Mr Wickham, Darcy.”
“Oh, right. Right.” Darcy poured a glass and handed it to Wickham. “Now,” Darcy said, drawing up a straight chair and turning it to sit leaning his elbows on the back, “Wickham. I would be inclined to hold your debts, those in Brighton and Meryton, if you will consider yourself betrothed to Miss Lydia Bennet. I shall settle some little money upon her, and I am sure Mr Bennet will do for her what he would have planned to do for any of his daughters under more honourable circumstances. I can prevail upon my cousin to assist with selling your commission. That is t
he offer. Think upon it, and I shall return tomorrow.”
“Bastard, I owe you nothing.” Wickham spat in his face.
“If I might amend, Darcy,” Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke as Darcy wiped his face without emotion. “This document I possess indicates Wickham’s commission now has no value since he has dishonoured it, and he may now only resign. He can make no profit from it. This was not a well-thought scheme, Wickham. However much you may dislike it, marriage to Lydia Bennet is the only option that maintains you outside a stockade.”
Wickham viewed his tormentors with narrowed, aching eyes. “You always get your way, do you not, Darcy? Make no mistake: someday I shall best you.”
Darcy’s countenance was implacable. “My money is on your dying before I do, most likely of the French pox; in that you shall best me. Do be aware you are being watched, Wickham. You will never go anywhere ever again that I do not know. Forever.” Darcy stood, and his cousin preceded him from the room. Darcy shut the door behind Fitzwilliam and turned back to Wickham, who was now standing.
“As for owing me nothing, you owe me a great deal, Wickham. Had I denounced you in Meryton as I should have, you never would have had the opportunity to trifle with any Bennet daughter.” He turned his back to leave.
“Then I should have got my leg over Elizabeth Bennet whilst I had my chance, with her consent or no.”
Wickham never saw the blow coming that sent two of his teeth across the room — where they bounced neatly onto an ancient doily decorating a dusty table — and dislocated his jaw.
When Darcy quitted the inn, he saw the physician standing on the corner counting the money in his hand. Darcy approached to hand him several more coins, and the doctor returned to the inn.
Fitzwilliam cocked his head quizzically as he held the carriage door open for his cousin. “Would you believe he attempted to resist arrest again?” Darcy asked mildly as he climbed into the coach.
The colonel snickered. “He did, did he?” He noticed Darcy was rubbing the knuckles of his right hand, which were beginning to swell. “Some things are better left to professionals, Darcy.”
“I expect you are right, but it felt grand at the time.” Darcy smiled.
* * *
Upon returning to Darcy House, he found an express awaiting from Georgiana:
Pemberley
4 August, 1812
Dearest Gander, (if I am now a goose, you see what it makes of you),
Mrs Annesley has returned, looks well and had a fine visit with her family. My report to her of your affection for Elizabeth comes as no surprise, as she observed it herself when Elizabeth and her aunt called on the day before Mrs A. departed. We shall be ready to leave for London whenever you bid us come.
As to what Elizabeth has said to me about Wickham prior to this present predicament, it was what we talked of on her first night here, when I had to lead you away from lurking outside her door, you shameful thing. She thinks ill of him. She knew early in their acquaintance he would be a highly imprudent choice but felt sorry for him. She said her father and Mrs Gardiner found his tales unseemly, to be saying what he did amongst relative strangers, which stole the ring of truth from their telling. Her own interest took the form of pity, as I see it, for she has a kind heart, and you had not exactly set yourself up as a paragon of civility. She said when she left for Kent in March that he was pursuing an heiress in her neighbourhood — she said this to comfort me, to let me know he is making a career of deceiving heiresses and I was merely one of many. She would not have me think ill of men and reminded me how good you are. If Wickham thinks he had a great ally in Elizabeth Bennet, we can put it down to vanity and predilection for self-deception.
The regiment left Meryton less than a fortnight after Elizabeth’s return, and she said she was heartily glad to see the back of Wickham and all the officers. She did laugh and say our cousin is the only officer she has ever liked, who has manners she does not have to fear every minute will veer off to indecency. I have not yet received a response to my first letter as I only dated it and put it in the post to Netherfield yesterday. You and my cousin are in my constant prayers. I worry, and hope you will keep me well apprised.
Yours as ever,
The Goose
* * *
Darcy reread the letter during his hot bath before dinner. He must trust Georgiana’s assessment of Elizabeth’s feelings, knowing ladies have more insight into each other. Everyone he knew seemed to read Elizabeth better than he did. He remembered the heated exchange of words during his regrettable proposal in April, which convinced him to share Georgiana’s opinion. In defending Wickham, Elizabeth spoke only of pity, and it was Darcy’s actions that owned the responsibility of making Wickham appear pitiable. But in Darcy’s experience, pity was a far cry from love.
He found Elizabeth’s appraisal of Colonel Fitzwilliam somewhat more unsettling. He had seen his cousin amidst drunken revels where he treated women very indecently indeed, but Richard was the second son of an earl and knew how to appear gentlemanly. Elizabeth instantly sparked his cousin’s interest in a way that was more serious and respectful, even though after ten minutes conversation, they were playful and lively with each other. And then, there was the matter of the colonel’s unhesitating defence of Elizabeth’s honour when it was denigrated by Wickham today. My cousin seems to have formed his own attachment. His actions speak volumes. Darcy considered this as he soaked.
Before dinner, he managed to write a response to Georgiana, noting all the progress being made — minus the details of her brother and cousin acting impulsively — although it made his hand ache to hold the pen. He encouraged her to proceed to London and to send another express upon leaving Pemberley.
Over dinner, Darcy and his cousin discussed the future of George Wickham and Lydia Bennet. In practical terms, they decided it would be best for Wickham to take a commission in the regulars somewhere far away from Hertfordshire, and they hoped he would land in a regiment with a likelihood of seeing action in France. Fitzwilliam spoke of a general in that branch of the army, a man he considered the strictest disciplinarian of any general of his acquaintance. He knew not where that general’s regiment was currently billeted, but it was information easy to obtain. They decided to appear at the war office together when it opened in the morning, and then Fitzwilliam would proceed to Brighton and his duties. Darcy could easily finish the contract with Wickham on his own.
While the cousins lingered over fruit and cheese, the butler brought an express from Bingley, written earlier that afternoon. They withdrew to the library, and Darcy perused his letter as his cousin read a book.
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire
5 August, 1812
Dear Darcy,
The journey to Hertfordshire was without incident, and I must say, the Gardiner children are very well behaved. Howsoever, by the end of the trip, my dear Jane and her aunt had become deeply concerned for Lizzy.
Bingley had written Lizzy, crossed it out and written Elizabeth, crossed that out and written Lizzy again. Darcy scanned ahead to see the whole letter was similarly chaotic.
We reached Longbourn Tuesday afternoon, and between the two of them, they could not recall seeing her eat more than one mouthful of food at any meal. I joined the family for breakfast this morning, and I did not see her take more than a piece of bread with jam, and this she did not finish.
Mrs Bennet is keeping above stairs but did come down to the drawing room to receive me and drink tea last night. Her despair over Lydia overcomes her happiness for Jane and me. She spoke of visiting the neighbours to brag me up, but Lizzy and Jane talked her out of it. They fear their mother rattling on about Lydia outside the family. Lizzy feels her father’s absence from home keenly, and Jane feels it all the more since she must see to his correspondence and business in his absence. Lizzy helps her in this. Makes me wish I knew more about running an estate. You would be more help to them than I am.
This morning, Lizzy announced she would take up the ten
ant visits, which had not been done since her leaving home in July. Her mother has long left this chore to her. I asked how she liked visiting the tenants as we three were the last at breakfast and she is always so frank. She says she enjoys it, and with only six tenant families, she can have a round of calls completed in two days’ time. I told her she has had excellent preparation for being the mistress of a larger estate, and she blushed very nicely but made no other remark. Jane said afterward that Lizzy looks for every excuse to get away from the house, and who can blame her?
Of my own family, I can only report they are in Scarborough still. Hurst’s last letter was full of hints to shoot here in September. My letters from Louisa and Caroline do not incline me to issue an invitation yet. I have sent them an announcement of my betrothal and move to Netherfield, no time for a response.
Do send me news when you have any to share, and anything you say will be kept confidential. Is Georgiana in London? Please extend my good wishes upon her birthday.
Best regards and faithfully,
C. Bingley
Darcy stood and paced. His cousin looked up and watched him for a moment before suggesting, “Brandy?”
“Yes, thanks, if you’re pouring.” After his first swallow, Darcy asked, “Fitzwilliam, were you ever in danger from Elizabeth Bennet?” Darcy looked at his cousin intently.
“Because I hit Wickham for insulting a lady whom you love and I rather like?”
“What did you feel in April?”
“Why ever does it matter now?”
“In April she liked you better than she did me, and if you had asked her to marry you, she might have said yes.”
“Darcy…why this torture?”
“I know you have more means to support a wife than you say you do. I know you have put money by and could certainly make a wife with Elizabeth’s prudent expectations quite comfortable, but you let me warn you off.”
“Cousin, I do not understand you, but I will tell you what transpired. I did feel an attraction, although I cannot say what Elizabeth might have felt. When you explained the Bennet family circumstances, and after seeing you with her, I realised you were warning me for two reasons: one acknowledged, that I must be circumspect in my choice of wife, and the second, that you were utterly obsessed with her. When I explained I was merely the second son of an earl, she understood my meaning immediately. She is a clever girl and made a good joke of it. She reckons I ought not sell myself for anything less than £50,000.”
The Red Chrysanthemum Page 20