A Vision of the Path Before Him

by Elizabeth Frerichs

  Elizabeth smiled at him. “Few adults seek to regain the childhood joys they have lost even if they realise it is gone. I am glad that you have not relegated all of your light-heartedness to childhood.”

  “As am I.” He bit his lip. “You do not have to remain an observer.”

  “True.”

  “And, in my opinion, I do not believe that you have remained an observer. You take care of the tenants. Certainly, Tommy would not see you as an observer.”

  Elizabeth waved aside his encouragement. “It is easy to be involved in a situation where my actions have an effect. Much less so when what I say or do matters little.”

  “You do not know that your family ignores what you say and do,” Darcy said. “I have recently discovered that inaction sometimes has a greater effect than action.”

  “You have given me much to ponder, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth shook herself. “About Mr. Collins though. How do you intend to speak to my father without him present? Or is Mr. Bingley going to keep him entertained?”

  Darcy allowed her to change the subject, suspecting she would not take it kindly were he to continue trying to convince her of her ability to effect change. “Bingley has requested that he and Miss Bennet be present. I would request your presence as well.”

  Elizabeth lifted an eyebrow. “It is to be a council of war then?”

  Darcy smiled. “Something like that. I do not know how to prevent Wickham from escaping to another town nor how to prevent him from sullying Georgiana’s name. It seems an insurmountable difficulty, however, with wiser heads than mine in the room, perhaps a solution may be found.”

  “I hope so,” Elizabeth said.

  Just then Mr. Collins hurried back, intent on drawing Darcy’s attention to some specimen of flora Lady Catherine had introduced to his garden and asking Darcy’s opinion on its efficacy. Darcy shot Bingley a look. His friend mouthed a silent apology, and the group continued on to Longbourn, Mr. Collins firmly fixed to Elizabeth and Darcy.

  Chapter 16

  Elizabeth’s strategy impressed Darcy. She had waited until Mr. Collins was engrossed in admiring Mrs. Philips’s manners and politeness to Mrs. Bennet and then asked Mrs. Bennet about a book Darcy “wished to borrow from Papa.” Miss Bennet suggested a walk in the garden to Mr. Bingley—Mrs. Bennet quickly squashed her younger daughters’ pleas to accompany the couple—and the four of them slipped up to Mr. Bennet’s office.

  “Papa, Mr. Darcy has something to tell us, and I desire you to listen carefully,” Elizabeth said severely upon their entering the library.

  Mr. Bennet put down his book. “Indeed?”

  Darcy bowed. “Please forgive this intrusion,” he began.

  “A man cannot help but be intruded upon in his own domain,” Mr. Bennet said philosophically.

  Elizabeth quelled her father with a look.

  “You may find seats if you desire,” Mr. Bennet offered, gesturing vaguely at the book-covered chairs.

  Elizabeth frowned at him but cleared space for Miss Bennet, Bingley, and herself.

  “Now what is this ‘something’ you have to share with us, Mr. Darcy?” Mr. Bennet asked.

  Darcy took a deep breath. “Today in Meryton, we happened upon your daughters making the acquaintance of a Mr. Wickham.”

  “Was he very handsome?” Mr. Bennet asked, leaning forward. “If you are hoping I will intercede with my daughters on your behalf—”

  “Papa!” Elizabeth remonstrated.

  Mr. Bennet chuckled. “I have never known you to avoid a little witticism.”

  “Unfortunately,” Darcy ploughed on, “Wickham is not a man to be trusted. He leaves unpaid debts and ruined young women wherever he goes.”

  Miss Bennet gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

  “And do you have any proof of this?” Mr. Bennet asked, leaning forward, his hands steepled.

  Darcy nodded. “I can produce copies of the debts I have paid on his behalf and letters from the various young women whom I am supporting along with their children.”

  “And why are you supporting his, er, natural children?” Mr. Bennet asked lazily.

  “Perhaps I am telling this in the wrong order,” Darcy said, casting Elizabeth a questioning glance. She nodded. “George Wickham was the son of my late father’s steward.”

  “Ah. I see,” Mr. Bennet said, his tone replete with satisfaction, as though he had solved a puzzle and was now merely humouring Darcy.

  Darcy ground his teeth. Why the man had suggested he had a class-based dislike of Wickham, he did not know. Surely, even Mr. Bennet would not favour anyone with such vile habits, regardless of their station in life! Schooling himself once more for politeness, he elaborated on their shared childhood and the schools Wickham had attended with him.

  “A bit too much competition, eh?” Mr. Bennet suggested.

  “Not at all,” Darcy said coldly. From there, he laid out the details of his pecuniary transactions with his former playmate. Mr. Bennet listened, rolling his pipe from one hand to the other. Darcy braced himself as he told of Georgiana’s mistake and her subsequent heartbreak, hoping it would shock Mr. Bennet into awareness of the danger Wickham posed to his daughters.

  “And what is he doing in Meryton now?” Mr. Bennet asked.

  “He has joined the local militia,” Bingley said.

  A faint crease appeared on Mr. Bennet’s brow.

  Darcy hoped that presaged a dawning concern.

  “Do you believe him a danger to my daughters? None of them have a dowry worth eloping for.”

  “Wickham has trifled with gentlemen’s daughters before, regardless of their lack of dowry, and I would hate if anything were to happen to your daughters when I might have prevented it.”

  “What would you have me do?” Mr. Bennet asked.

  “I am hopeful that you will advise me as to the wisest course of action.”

  Mr. Bennet’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Mr. Bennet, it is my responsibility to prevent Wickham from continuing in his depredations: I know his true character, and I cannot allow him to continue harming others. However, I do not know how best to safeguard my sister and those around him. If I press him, Wickham will not scruple to sully Georgiana’s reputation. I have come today to ask for your help. You have daughters of your own. With your greater experience and familiarity with the locals, do you have any suggestions on how to fulfil both goals?”

  Mr. Bennet leaned back, his hands clasped across his middle, looking pensive. Then the corner of his mouth twitched. “I assume you have already ruled out having Mr. Wickham marry your sister. That would certainly keep him out of debt and would also preserve your sister’s reputation.”

  Darcy stiffened. As Penn had pointed out, asking Mr. Bennet for his advice had been the price of gaining Elizabeth’s support, but a part of him wondered if it would have been better to gain her cooperation without the support of her father.

  “Papa!” Elizabeth remonstrated.

  Mr. Bennet chuckled. “What good is a farce if one cannot laugh at it, my dear?”

  “I assure you this is no farce,” Darcy said through gritted teeth, reminding himself of his vow to remain polite regardless of others’ incivility.

  “Well, not to you, of course,” Mr. Bennet said. “But I must take my entertainment where I can—after all, according to my wife, I am on the verge of dying any day now. Your tale is rather like something out of a story, do you not think?”

  Bingley cleared his throat. “I am afraid we are rather too close to the situation to see the humour in it. Hopefully, you will never have cause to be so entangled with Mr. Wickham.”

  “Ah, yes. And what has Mr. Wickham done to you, Mr. Bingley?” Mr. Bennet asked.

  Bingley glanced at Miss Bennet. “Nothing, yet, sir. But I would not be a good neighbour if I did not attempt to give warning.”

  “And your presence here?”

  “I merely desired to be of use to Darcy. He has asked for my advice in the matter as well
.”

  “I see.”

  “I have informed Mr. Darcy that we may spread gossip easily,” Elizabeth began. “I had thought we could spread a warning of Wickham’s many debts and natural children. Or perhaps a rumour about the militiamen leaving unpaid debts and trifling with young women in other towns so Wickham would not have cause to believe his misfortunes directly related to Mr. Darcy?”

  “You would condemn the innocents? You know any rumour of poor behaviour will cause the public to look poorly upon the whole militia?” Mr. Bennet asked.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said firmly. “However, those who are innocent will not suffer from the increased scrutiny. I am certain society will not reject them—there are too many who dote on their presence—but if the merchants do not allow credit and young women are on their guard, Mr. Wickham may find his movements hampered.”

  Mr. Bennet nodded.

  “But what if Mr. Wickham has changed?” Miss Bennet asked softly. “We do not wish someone to be unjustly condemned, and you do not know what has occurred in his life over the past months.”

  “Then he has nothing to fear from increased scrutiny,” Elizabeth said stoutly. She reached over to take her sister’s hand. “It is no harm for him to be refused credit or for the ladies he is with to be chaperoned at all times, Jane.”

  Miss Bennet nodded. “I suppose that is true.”

  Mr. Bennet waved a hand. “Have you considered that if you hold sufficient debts, you can simply send him to debtor’s prison? There is no need for such convoluted measures.”

  Darcy hesitated. The idea had crossed his mind, however, Wickham was likely to retaliate with threats to Georgiana’s reputation. In addition, debtor’s prison would likely lead to Wickham’s death. Though he would never be friendly with Wickham or even like the man, he could not leave him to suffer such a fate. Elizabeth’s rebuke had changed him. He could no longer ignore the plight of even his worst enemy. He supposed it was her compassion for him that had birthed compassion for Wickham in him. Wickham had to be stopped—on that he was resolved. Ideally, however, Wickham could be persuaded to cease his poor behaviour, rather than having to resort to a more permanent solution.

  “I believe that debtors’ prison should be a last resort,” Darcy said. “I do not wish Wickham to die. I merely desire his character to change for the better or, failing that, for something to curtail his activities.”

  Mr. Bennet shook his head. “Such optimism. I have rarely seen characters change for the better.”

  When Georgiana had been a babe, Darcy had built towers of blocks for her to knock over, which she did with great enthusiasm. For a moment, Darcy had a picture of Mr. Bennet engaged in the same activity. No matter what he put forward, the man seemed to delight in knocking it over as though Darcy had built a block tower for his pleasure. He would have thought Mr. Bennet an incurable pessimist had it not been for the gleam of amusement still lurking in his eyes.

  “Well, I have,” Bingley said stoutly.

  “How felicitous for you,” Mr. Bennet said. He returned his attention to Elizabeth. “And do you intend to tell your sisters of Wickham’s nature? How handsome is he? Will they believe you?” he asked in mock seriousness.

  A frown marred Elizabeth’s expression. “I do not know. They do seem resolved that he must be as good as he is attractive.”

  “Well, I will remind you that if you tell them the truth of the matter, you will certainly be required to tell everyone in Meryton.”

  “And that is why I did not suggest their inclusion in this conversation,” Elizabeth snapped.

  “Well, if you believe such measures are necessary, you appear to have a workable plan,” Mr. Bennet said. “After all, we do not know Wickham will be of any danger—though he appears attracted to money and, I would assume, beauty, I doubt even he will be attracted by silliness. As my youngest daughters are some of the silliest women in all England, they ought to be safe. And I trust you and Jane will be wise in your dealings with him,” Mr. Bennet said, eyeing his older daughters.

  “Certainly Jane and I will be careful, Papa,” Elizabeth said. “But what of Lydia and Kitty?”

  Miss Bennet nodded.

  “We need not worry about them—a man can only take their silliness in small doses. I trust their behaviour will protect them from any untoward advances.” Mr. Bennet stood. “Now that that’s settled, I would like to have my library to myself. It is not everywhere that I can evict people from, you know. Perhaps you would like to show the gentlemen our garden? Or you could gossip with your mother.”

  Darcy suppressed a grimace as the rest of them rose to leave. The levity Elizabeth regularly displayed had been magnified and twisted in Mr. Bennet—as though the man had lost the ability to take anything to do with his wife and daughters seriously. Darcy only hoped he and Bingley could keep the Bennet sisters safe.

  Elizabeth ushered everyone out onto the landing and shut the door.

  “Are you certain this is necessary?” Miss Bennet asked Bingley in a low voice.

  Bingley nodded firmly.

  “He may have changed,” Miss Bennet argued. “I would not like to think we are making his life more difficult if he is trying to reform. Why else would he join the militia?”

  “Miss Bennet, I do not know what Wickham has told you, however, please know that, in the past, he could appear all that is good even while plotting the vilest of acts,” Darcy said, wishing he could simply share his vision with these two Bennet sisters—then they might understand the precarious position they were in and the urgent need to curb Wickham. “Do not let your guard down around him. If he has changed, he will earn our trust.”

  Miss Bennet shrank closer to Bingley.

  “I really do think it’s best if people are on their guard, Jane,” Elizabeth said. “Whether or not Mr. Wickham is reformed, it would not hurt the good people of Meryton to be on their guard.” She shrugged. “If that protection is wasted, I doubt it will harm anyone to be more circumspect.” The corners of her mouth turned up. “Mary would say that everyone could benefit from greater circumspection.”

  “I suppose,” Miss Bennet said doubtfully.

  “I admire your desire to see the best in everyone,” Bingley began, “however, I would prefer to err on the side of caution with your safety.”

  “Do you really believe he is a danger to us?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

  Bingley and Darcy exchanged a look.

  “I believe Wickham delights in hurting the people I care about,” Darcy said carefully. “It would not surprise me if he singled out your family for his attentions, particularly since Bingley and I accompanied you shopping today.”

  Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “So in protecting us, you have given him a motive to target us?” She crossed her arms. “What is that saying about a man meeting his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it?”

  Darcy faltered. “I—I would be remiss if I did not try to protect you and your sisters.” He squared his shoulders. “As he was, Wickham is not a man I would trust around any female, regardless of their age or station in life.”

  “Miss Elizabeth, whether or not Wickham would have decided to target you is irrelevant,” Bingley said. “It is a gentleman’s duty to protect a woman in danger.” He turned worshipful eyes on Miss Bennet. “We cannot help but desire to protect such precious—such wonderful neighbours.”

  Miss Bennet gave him a soft smile. “Your concern is appreciated.”

  “Will your mother and aunt spread the gossip to the tradesmen?” Darcy asked.

  Elizabeth waved away his concern. “Gossip filters throughout the area like rainwater through the fields.”

  “Do you desire our presence when speaking to your mother?” Darcy asked.

  Elizabeth sent Miss Bennet a questioning look. Miss Bennet shook her head. “No, our mother will only desire details, and then the gossip will be attributed to you,” Elizabeth said.

  “I believe we will take our leave then,” Darcy said.

&nb
sp; “Certainly.” Elizabeth turned and walked down the stairs.

  Darcy remained in step with Elizabeth, but Bingley lingered on the landing with Miss Bennet. Their low murmurs followed Darcy and Elizabeth down the stairs and into the front hall.

  “I hope my concern does not annoy,” Darcy said quietly while they waited for the other two to catch up.

  Elizabeth held his gaze. “I am not in the habit of believing strange men. I doubt I would have believed his lies.”

  Darcy’s eyes slid closed as he recalled Elizabeth’s vehement defence of Wickham Before. He forced himself back to the present. “It is not your abilities that I question. Suspicion is not your natural inclination, and Wickham is a practiced deceiver. Given my failure to make myself amiable to you and to the other inhabitants of this area, why would you not believe Wickham over me? I have not established credibility here.”

  “Of course you have!”

  Darcy attempted to raise an eyebrow.

  Elizabeth blushed. “Well, perhaps your reputation is not the best, however, there were extenuating circumstances, and—”

  Darcy smiled. “You need not make excuses for my poor manners. I have endeavoured to remedy my disastrous first impression, but many people have not seen me outside of that first assembly.”

  “Well, I know you are credible,” she said stoutly. “As I said, I am certain you would not fabricate something so detrimental to your sister. However, I am not in the habit of allowing my personal opinions to cloud the facts. Wickham would not have found a ready audience for whatever fiction he attempted to spread.”

  Darcy did not know what to say to that. Fortunately, Bingley and Miss Bennet arrived, and no reply was necessary amid the flurry of leave-taking.

  Chapter 17

  “Well, that went well,” Bingley said bitterly as he strode towards the stables.

  Darcy matched his steps. “Bingley?”

  “I knew Mr. Bennet was—unprepared to protect his daughters, at least, so it seemed from your vision. I did not expect him to be unwilling to protect them.”