Darcy saw that Miss Bennet appeared as serene as ever on first glance, but now that he was really looking, he could see the strain in her expression and the slight reddening of her eyes before she looked down shyly as she greeted Bingley. He had hoped to see her face light up with joy, but perhaps she was upset that he was immediately monopolized by her mother.
Miss Elizabeth should have been smiling as well, Darcy thought, but she looked upset instead. She was not as obviously glaring as in his dream, but neither was she smiling or playful. He escorted Georgiana to a place between the two sisters and then tried to think of something clever to say that might prompt an interesting discussion with Miss Elizabeth. No ideas came to mind and he ended up simply asking if she was well.
"Very well, sir, as you can see," she said in an unexpectedly sharp tone. He did not understand what was happening and the giggles from her sisters were keeping him from thinking straight. Almost without realizing it, he moved to his usual spot by the window, leaving Georgiana to the care of the two oldest sisters.
He watched as Miss Bennet quietly spoke with Georgiana. That was better. They would soon be friends. Miss Elizabeth joined in after Georgiana stumbled over a reply to Miss Bennet's question. He hoped his sister would relax soon and enjoy the company. Certain his sister was in good hands, he looked out the window, trying to think of any witty comment he might make.
Mrs. Bennet loudly interrogated Bingley about his return and how long he intended to stay at Netherfield this time. Darcy heard her remind Bingley he had promised to join them for dinner soon. Bingley declared himself most willing to enjoy their hospitality.
"You may bring your guests as well," the matron said grudgingly. For the first time, Darcy realized Mrs. Bennet had never seemed very welcoming towards him. He would have thought that with his wealth and property, not to mention his status, she would be falling all over herself to try to match him with her daughters. She knew he was wealthy; he remembered her that first evening at the assembly exclaiming over his "ten thousand a year," although that was not the true extent of his income, just a convenient number he never challenged. He also remembered her enthusiasm that first night, but he could not think of a single instance since then when she had fawned upon him in the same way she fawned upon Bingley. He wondered what that could mean.
He turned his thoughts back to possible subjects for a discussion with Miss Elizabeth and only vaguely heard Miss Bennet asking Georgiana something about when they might wish her joy. The two youngest girls erupted in laughter at some topic of their own just then, so he did not hear his sister's reply. He assumed she cleared up whatever misunderstanding the ladies had, not realizing she had simply looked sadly at Mr. Bingley saying, "I do not know."
When the polite time for the call had lapsed, Darcy was no closer to finding a witty comment. He settled for saying, "I am very glad to see you again," as he bowed to Miss Elizabeth. She still seemed to be glaring at him. Perhaps she was indisposed. He would visit again soon and hopefully her mood would improve. Perhaps he would be able to think of something witty by then.
Once they settled in the carriage, Darcy asked Georgiana what she thought of Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth. Georgiana looked to Mrs. Annesley before answering. On receiving a slight nod, she answered.
"Miss Bennet seems very polite," she said quietly.
"Oh, she is an angel!" Bingley put in. "A sweet, kind angel! I am so glad we returned."
Georgiana stared at him. She seemed frightened into silence by his enthusiasm. It did not matter, Darcy thought. His sister was just shy. She would warm up to the Bennets soon. Maybe they could visit again tomorrow. He hoped his business with Wickham would not take so long as to prevent it.
Chapter 4: Confounded
Armed with a packet of Wickham's IOUs and his copies of receipts for their purchase, Darcy made his way to Meryton early the next morning. At last, he was going to do what he should have done nearly a decade before. Wickham would soon be locked away, a threat to no one. It was a most satisfying thought.
Pleased with himself and his world, Darcy hardly felt the chill as his stallion cantered along the road to the village. The air was fresh and clear, with the sunshine bright around him, as if even the skies approved his plan for the day.
Darcy felt a touch of regret as he passed by the turning to Longbourn. He would have preferred a stop there and perhaps a chance to walk with Miss Elizabeth and enjoy the sunny day. He did not know how long his business would take, but he hoped there would still be time for a visit later on.
His first stop would be at the home of the magistrate. Darcy had met Mr. Archer at one of the many gatherings the Netherfield party had attended during their visit. He thought Mr. Bennet and Mr. Archer might be friends. They both seemed to have a similar view of the world and a rather biting wit as well as being near in age. Darcy knew the estate was called Cheroot and was just the other side of Meryton. It was an odd name, but for that reason it stuck with him.
He arrived at the estate without incident and requested to see Mr. Archer on a matter of business. After a brief wait, he was shown to the man's study. Darcy was a little surprised at the coldness of Mr. Archer's greeting, but he supposed it was just the man's way. He took the seat he was offered and watched as his host settled into his own chair.
"What is your business with me this morning, Mr. Darcy?" Mr. Archer asked without engaging in any of the social small talk Darcy found so hard to endure. Darcy smiled slightly, enjoying the hope of working with a man who knew how to get right to business, although the expression would hardly be noticed by one who did not know him well. He sobered again as he spoke.
"I am here to make a complaint against one George Wickham, currently a lieutenant in the militia unit quartered in Meryton. I have with me receipts for debts of his which I have purchased over a period of several years, totaling six thousand three hundred twenty-seven pounds."
"That is a significant debt," Mr. Archer said.
"It is only a part of the debts he has incurred over the years. Mr. Wickham is a gambler and liar who has frequently run up large bills, leaving them unpaid and disappearing when his creditors close in."
"And why did you not bring this up before? Surely you knew what damage a gambler with a history of unpaid debts could do in a small village like this?" Mr. Archer's voice was harsh and Darcy felt the sting of his words.
"I needed to retrieve the receipts," he said, hedging a bit. "I would not expect you to believe me without some proof to hand."
"Ah, yes, the receipts. And from where did you need to retrieve them? India?"
Darcy looked at the man in surprise. He was unsure where these questions would lead. "They were at my townhouse in London. In my safe," he almost stammered.
"London, is it? Half a day's journey away," Mr. Archer nodded knowingly as he spoke. "Dreadful hard trip, that."
"I feel as if you are mocking me, sir," Darcy said. "Why is the location where I kept the receipts or the distance important?"
"Mocking you?" Mr. Archer asked in a definitely mocking tone. "Now why would I choose to mock such a distinguished personage as yourself? What possible cause could I have to disparage a man who has made it clear he is far above the company this poor village has to offer?"
Darcy did his best to tamp down the offense he felt at the man's comments. He tried to respond reasonably, unaware his voice had taken on his haughtiest tones.
"Mr. Archer, I have come to you with a serious complaint against a man now residing in the jurisdiction where you hold sway. I wish to have George Wickham taken up for debt. If he cannot repay these funds, and I seriously doubt he can, I want him taken to the Marshalsea and not left free to run up even more debts."
Mr. Archer looked at Darcy with disgust. "Have you not done enough to harm that man? Is your jealousy over your father's favor for him so great that you would imprison him on trumped up charges?"
"I do not take your meaning, sir," Darcy said, offense firmly taking hold and turning
to anger.
"My meaning is plain. You are a stranger here, sir, by your own choice. You came to our village as a guest and we did our best to make you welcome, but you rebuffed every friendly overture with disdain and contempt. You have insulted our ladies and refused to participant in our activities. While you attended the dinners and other gatherings to which you were invited, you generally refused to speak with anyone outside your party and failed to engage in even the most basic social niceties. Your friend engaged the hopes and affections of a well-loved daughter of our community and then disappeared like a thief in the night, taking all his party, yourself included, with him. She was left bereft and with her reputation at risk because of his eager and unguarded attentions. None of you offered the least thanks for the hospitality we had provided before you left, and even the servants were let go without proper pay, notice or references. Now, suddenly, you are back and demanding the arrest of a man known for his courtesy and amiability, a man you have harmed in the past. If you knew him to be such a villain as you say, why did you not mention it to anyone when you were here before? Why would you wait so long if these documents you maintain are proof of his guilt were an easy ride away? A messenger could have brought them the day you learned Mr. Wickham had arrived to join the militia."
Darcy stared at the man in silence. Was this true? Had his behavior been so very poor that he could not make himself believed even with the proof of Wickham's perfidy in his hands?
"I am waiting for an answer, sir," Mr. Archer said coldly.
"I was not aware that was the impression I had left, nor was I aware of some of the things for which you charge me," Darcy said haltingly. "What ladies have I insulted? How have I expressed disdain for your company?"
Mr. Archer laughed, but there was no warmth or camaraderie to the sound. "Shall we start with your first entry into our little community?" he asked. "The assembly where your company arrived a little late and caused something of a stir. Sir William Lucas, our most genial citizen, greeted you with enthusiasm and offered to introduce your party around. We thought well of Mr. Bingley then, for he rivaled Sir William in enthusiasm, greeting people cheerfully and dancing with several of our young ladies – a kindness as eligible young men are in short supply with so many of our sons gone off to fight and die on the continent."
Darcy felt a twinge of guilt remembering that he had not danced beyond one set each with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Mr. Archer had not stopped for Darcy's thoughts to catch up, however.
"Mr. Bingley's sisters and yourself, however, made it clear you wished to be anywhere but in our assembly hall. You barely acknowledge the introductions and sometimes turned and walked away while someone was still offering you words of welcome."
"I did not realize the impression I left," Darcy said again, quite honestly. "I have never been comfortable in large gatherings, particularly around people I do not yet know."
"How do you expect to know anyone if you will not talk with them or acknowledge their attempts at courtesy? Or worse yet, when you actively insult them, as you did with Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"
"Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy asked in surprise. "She is a most admirable young woman. How did I insult her?"
"Mr. Bingley tried to convince you to dance with her. You declined, loudly declaring her looks were tolerable but she was not handsome enough to tempt you nor would you give consequence to young ladies who were slighted by other men. That last was a laughable statement given how few young men were in attendance and most of them were trying to make sure any woman who wished to dance was given at least a few opportunities, not slighting anyone. Several people heard you, including Miss Elizabeth herself. She had the correct attitude, of course. Instead of running off in tears she made a joke of it, but I doubt she has forgiven you."
"I never knew she heard me," Darcy said haltingly. "I never meant for anyone but Bingley to hear me and I only hoped to say something so outrageous he would stop bothering me and let me sulk in peace." Sulk in peace, Darcy thought. Why would I say that? But the words were spoken and he realized they were true.
Mr. Archer laughed a little more kindly. "Sulking, were you? Well you paid the price of it. Everyone heard Miss Elizabeth needle and tease you whenever you were in company. The dear girl ran circles around both you and that Bingley woman."
Darcy was stunned again. He had known Miss Elizabeth had been making sport with Miss Bingley, but he never suspected she was doing the same with him. Had she not been flirting with him? Had he mistaken their every encounter? Suddenly he felt like his world was crumbling, dissolving into an angry red ball of flame. Why was he even here?
Mr. Archer seemed to realize the man before him was having a crisis of some sort. He felt a little sympathy, as it seemed none of Darcy's insults had been intentional. Deciding to give his visitor a moment to collect himself, he extracted a cigar from a box on his desk, lit it and took a few puffs.
The smoke wafted through the room. Some of it seemed to penetrate Darcy's thoughts, shrouding the redness in a dark haze. Memories of his dreams began to replay in his mind. A name floated by like smoke. Wickham. Pulling himself together, Darcy straightened his shoulders and looked at Mr. Archer. When he spoke, his tone was quiet and humble.
"As I said before, sir. I had not realized the impression I had given to you or the other good people of this village. I realize Mr. Wickham is charming and makes friends easily, while I am awkward and socially inept. It has been a point of contention between us since childhood."
"He says he grew up with you and was treated with favor by your father." Mr. Archer continued to puff at his cigar.
"That is true. We spent much time together as boys and I thought he was my friend. His father had served my own father faithfully and, as a reward for that service, my father sponsored George Wickham at school. He sent him to first Eton and then Cambridge along with me and even provided him with an allowance to help him along. He hoped George would become a clergyman and intended to provide him with a living if he did."
"That tallies with what Mr. Wickham has told us." The smoke hung around Mr. Archer's head, but Darcy felt he, himself, sat in a clear space. It was not often he revealed his personal business. All the same, he knew he would not succeed in the task he had set himself if he did not.
"What he probably has not told you is that his behavior deteriorated once we were removed from the watchful eyes of our fathers. Like many others, he found the combination of the temptation and freedom too hard to resist."
"I remember a few escapades from my own school days," Mr. Archer said with a slight smile, "but you appear to mean something much more serious."
"Yes. It was not just gambling and unpaid debts. He does not treat women...honorably. There were many unfortunate incidents as we were growing up."
"You knew, but you did not stop him?"
"I tried…a few times. He lies with ease and tells a good story. I am awkward even with the truth, especially when it matters to me. Inevitably, he turned whatever charges I made against him on my head, and I ended up being punished for his misdeeds. Eventually, I just gave up."
"You purchased his debts."
Darcy sighed. "No matter how foolish I thought the merchants were for trusting him for so much, I could not see them and their families ruined because they fell for Wickham's charms. Some part of me also felt it might someday be leverage I could use against him." Darcy gave a tight smile before he continued.
"I could have...I should have brought the debts to my father's attention. I do not know what he would have done, however. He was so very ill for the last few years and he enjoyed Wickham's company. I hated to spoil a relationship that brought him so much comfort in his failing years.
"What about this living he says you denied him?" Mr. Archer asked.
"A lie of omission. My father did recommend a living for Wickham if he chose to take orders. Instead, he informed me he had no taste for making sermons and I was happy to agree to an alternative arrangement. He accepted three
thousand pounds in return for signing away all rights to the living. He also received a bequest of one thousand pounds. The combined sum would support a man for some time, or provide a good base for earning more, but not for George Wickham. When the living came available not two years later, he requested it, telling me the money was not only gone, he was once again deeply in debt. That was when I denied him the living."
"I see," Mr. Archer said. "To lose four thousand in less than two years – incredible! So, he is here, and you are back. What has changed?"
"It may sound strange, but I had a dream. I saw people who had been hurt by him and many who still could be hurt if I choose to continue doing nothing to stop him. I realized it was time to pull the serpent's fangs."
Mr. Archer blew another great puff of smoke into the room as he considered. "I have heard confession is good for the soul," he finally said.
"At the very least, it clears the mind," Darcy answered with a slight smile.
"Do you swear these receipts represent true and valid debts accrued by George Wickham?"
"I swear every one of these receipts represents a debt left unpaid by George Wickham and purchased by me. Furthermore, I believe if you check with the local merchants you will find he has already amassed a significant amount of debt in the short time he has been here."
"I will check, but only as a matter of form. I believe you. Given the high value of the debt I can authorize his immediate detainment and I will provide men to help take him into custody. However, given the low esteem in which the people of Meryton hold you, I think I should go along as well."
"I would appreciate your assistance and request it be today, this morning, if possible. If he has too much warning, he will run."
Smoky Dreams Page 3