Earning Darcy's Trust

by Jennifer Joy

  Excusing himself, Bingley followed his sister to discuss whatever plans she had made. Darcy hoped she had not arranged for a party. The only people he would be interested in spending more time with were the very people she would refuse to invite.

  Left alone in the hall with Georgiana, she whispered, “She is going to hate it when Mr. Bingley proposes to Jane. Not only is Jane more handsome than she is, but she will make herself look bad when her cutting remarks and actions are only met with Jane’s sweet forbearance.”

  “Bingley will have his hands full maintaining peace in his household. Any improvement in Miss Bingley’s temperament would go fully to Miss Bennet, but I do hope she is not too soft and can put Miss Bingley in her proper place when she takes over as mistress of the house.”

  “Ooh, I have much to write about. I must go upstairs and get started.”

  It pleased Darcy to know she had more to write about and ponder over than George Wickham. It was good Georgiana had decided to stay. Her character grew stronger each day, something that could not have happened locked up and isolated from company at Pemberley.

  Darcy went upstairs to seek out Giles.

  Passing by Georgiana’s bedchamber, he heard the sounds of confused chatter and moving furniture.

  “It is not here either, miss.”

  Darcy knocked on Georgiana’s door and peeked in. The desk was pulled away from the wall and Georgiana was on the floor near her bed searching for something.

  A sick feeling gripped his stomach and chilled his fingers.

  The maid busied herself with the desk, her back to him. When Georgiana finally looked up to see him standing in her doorway, her face confirmed his fear.

  “It’s gone, William.”

  Not even a deep breath calmed his thundering heart.

  Chapter 17

  That evening at dinner, Bingley was subdued. Miss Bingley, on the other hand, was happier than Darcy had seen her in a long time.

  Clinking her glass, Miss Bingley said, “I have some wonderful news. Mr. Hurst made friends amongst the superior officers while we were in Meryton today, and we promptly arranged to hold a dinner party tomorrow night.”

  Bingley slumped further into his chair.

  “Furthermore, and this will especially please you, Mr. Darcy, we chanced upon an old friend of yours, Mr. Wickham, and I took the liberty of extending an invitation to him as well.” She made her announcements as if she were addressing a crowded room, though only their small group was present.

  Mrs. Hurst clapped and exclaimed her delight. “How very good of you to arrange a dinner party. I have no doubt but that it will be the most elegant party these gentlemen have attended in a long time.”

  Georgiana took the news much more calmly than Darcy had thought her capable. A short while ago, he would have expected her to leave the table, complaining of a headache so that she might cry in her room. Instead, she raised another spoonful of soup to her mouth. The only hint of nerves was her refusal to look up from her plate.

  Bingley looked positively miserable. He did not know any of the new developments with Wickham, but he knew from university that his relationship with Darcy was strained at best. Had he been consulted, he would have advised against inviting the man into his home. Miss Bingley should have first consulted with the master of the house before arranging a dinner party. The fact that it probably never occurred to her to do so with him worried Darcy. Would Bingley continue to allow his sister to step all over him once he married and Netherfield Park gained a mistress? He would cause much misery to the future Mrs. Bingley unless he put his sister in her place soon.

  “What do you think of my plans, Mr. Darcy? A dinner party with certain members of the regiment should liven things up around here.” Miss Bingley looked overly pleased with herself.

  Darcy again looked at Bingley. He held the tiniest glimmer of hope that his fickle friend would correct his sister’s presumptuous behavior. She had no respect for her brother or for anyone who did not fit in with her schemes.

  Bingley turned red, but said nothing.

  “Really, Charles, you must learn to calm your complexion. You will not catch an eligible lady with your skin mottling as it does.”

  “I know a lady who does not seem to mind,” he answered in a defiant, though small, voice.

  She scoffed. “I said ‘eligible’, did I not?”

  Darcy endured the rest of dinner, but the atmosphere in the room was hardly pleasant. It took forever, but the time finally arrived for the ladies to retire to the drawing room while the gentlemen shared a drink in the study. Mr. Hurst reclined on a couch by the fire and soon snores could be heard from his corner of the room. Darcy could not blame him for sleeping so much, surrounded as he was by Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley day in and day out. It seemed to be a sort of survival technique for the gentleman.

  “Bingley, there is something I should like to discuss with you.” Darcy paced the room, too agitated to sit.

  Taking two deep breaths he turned to Bingley, who leaned on the corner of his desk with one foot dangling in the air.

  “You had best take a seat. What I have to say might be difficult for you to hear.”

  Bingley looked stunned and confused. Darcy reminded himself to speak gently.

  Continuing, Darcy asked, “What was your intention in letting this estate and coming to Hertfordshire?”

  “To learn the ins and outs of owning an estate and to find a wife to share it with.”

  “Very well. How do you think things are going for you?”

  “Blessedly well, Darcy. Miss Bennet is loveliness in human form. She is everything— no, she is more than everything I could possibly have dreamed. My plan is to wait until the end of the year and propose marriage if she will have me.”

  Darcy nodded slowly, measuring his words. He did not want to have to repeat himself.

  “Miss Bennet will make a lovely wife for you. However, what kind of husband will you be for her?”

  “Whatever do you mean? It will bring her pleasure to have her own home to manage. We will live close to her family and stay near her childhood friends. I think I can make her very happy here.”

  “It is a start, Bingley. You are my friend and it is because of this and my concern for your happiness— and that of the future Mrs. Bingley— that I must speak plainly with you.” He paused to ensure he had Bingley’s full attention.

  “Do you intend to forever let your sister walk all over you without consequence? The presumptuousness she displays on a daily basis will affect your marriage unless you stop it. She knows very well that she can do whatever she pleases under your roof, and you have allowed it. Miss Bennet is a sweet-tempered lady. How do you think your sister will treat her?”

  Bingley’s eyes grew larger and larger as Darcy spoke.

  “Goodness gracious, I had not considered that. I have lived with Caroline’s nagging ambition for so long, I must admit to being blind to it; or deaf; or whatever one does to ignore it.” He slumped forward and rested his elbow on his knee.

  “How much do you love Miss Bennet? Are you willing to put your sister in her place to keep her respect?”

  Bingley shook his head and looked overwhelmed for a full minute. Then, his eyes focused and he looked at Darcy.

  “I do love Miss Bennet, and if I am to be the sort of husband she deserves, then I must learn to put order in my household starting now.” He sat up erect and slammed his fist a little too vigorously onto his desk.

  Then a look of panic spread over his face. “Oh, but the dinner. Should I make her cancel?”

  Darcy exhaled deeply. “I wish it were as easy as that. She has already given invitations and to cancel at this point would be indecorous.” He could not explain to Bingley the extent of Wickham’s sins against his family and put Georgiana’s reputation in question. As far as Bingley was concerned, the only issue was that of despicable conduct in past years.

  “Very well. I will talk to Caroline, and we shall continue as she had p
lanned, but this is the last time. If Wickham asks you for money, I shall tell her to take it from her own pin money. I will make sure she does not seat Wickham near either you or Miss Darcy.”

  “You are going to be all right, Bingley.” Darcy smacked him on the back, and they settled into their chairs with a carafe of brandy. It was not the perfect solution, but it would do for now. He had other, more urgent things on his mind. He and Giles had spent all afternoon helping Georgiana and her maid search the room for the missing diary. It had not been found.

  Bingley was good to his word. Wickham was placed as far away from Darcy and Georgiana as possible without disturbing the proper order of their titled officers of rank.

  Wickham had arrived to Netherfield with a possessive, self-assured manner and greeted Miss Bingley and the Hursts with eager enthusiasm. Darcy wondered how they had become acquainted.

  Wickham was an officer with no special rank in the militia and very little to offer in the way of fortune or future prospects unless he married an heiress. There were advantages to him in forming an alliance with Miss Bingley, but she was too astute and ambitious to allow such a thing to occur. For her to pursue his company only meant one thing. He could help her in some way. Did she think that befriending him would endear her to Darcy? He shivered at the thought, for there were few other people in the world he would less wish to spend time with than Miss Bingley or Wickham.

  By the end of the first course, when most of the gentleman had consumed at least one glass of wine— much more, the higher up the table one looked— tongues loosened and talk of the war along with postulations about Napoleon took over the conversation at the table. Miss Bingley was praised for her insights, having the sagacity to paraphrase what the officers themselves said; repeating it in such a way that the idea sounded like her own.

  Wickham chatted quietly at the other end of the table, only occasionally voicing his opinions aloud. He made no attempt to disturb Georgiana. In fact, he hardly looked at her. This set Darcy on edge more than before. What else could he be up to, for surely there was something? On the other hand, maybe this meal would prove to be what he had longed for: some kind of truce. Only, he could not convince himself of it.

  The women withdrew to the sitting room. Georgiana attached herself to one of the officer’s wives. She was a motherly figure and much older than the other wives invited. She had the advantage of being a visiting commanding officer’s wife and she had known their mother. Her comments about Lady Anne were kind and brought comfort to Georgiana’s turbulent heart. They comforted Darcy as well. He relaxed somewhat, knowing his sister was in good company and away from Wickham for a short time.

  Some of the other men pulled out cigars, and drinks were served as the last lady disappeared through the dining room door.

  Wickham moved closer and sat in the chair Georgiana had recently unoccupied. “I would like to have a word with you, Darcy.”

  What Darcy had expected all evening finally came to pass. It was too good to hope that Wickham had come to his senses.

  “Can you not speak it here?” He was in no hurry to close himself in a private room with a man who had caused him so much trouble.

  Wickham lowered his voice so that Darcy strained to hear his words. “For me, I do not care. But you may not appreciate me making public what I have to say.”

  There it was. Confirmation of what Darcy had expected all evening.

  “Very well. I will ask Bingley if we might use his study.”

  This pleased Wickham, and Darcy knew he needed to proceed with caution. So long as Georgiana was kept out of whatever Wickham planned to reveal to him, he could handle himself.

  Bingley offered to accompany him, but Darcy assured him that was not necessary. He did, however, request that someone be sent to the room in a quarter of an hour. This, too, was agreeable to Wickham. Whatever business he had, he could speak it quickly.

  Darcy measured his breaths as they walked to Bingley’s study. He must keep his calm. Something Miss Elizabeth had said on an earlier occasion came to his mind. ‘Never make a decision or discuss things of importance when you are tired, hungry, or overly emotional.’ Wise words to live by, but Darcy felt his inner turmoil increase as he closed the door to the study behind Wickham.

  He stood in front of the desk, too restless to sit. He was directly in front of the door should Wickham make an appeal for more money. Darcy had made himself very clear on that point and would not repeat the same refusal again.

  Wickham stood behind a leather chair facing Darcy. “I want ten thousand pounds.”

  Darcy took a step toward the door. He did not have time for this.

  “You will hear me out.” The cold calm in Wickham’s voice froze Darcy mid-step.

  “My answer is the same as it was the last time you asked for money.”

  “And we both know how that turned out,” Wickham jeered. “Had you not shown up in Ramsgate, Georgiana’s dowry would have been mine.”

  “Leave her out of this.” Darcy’s muscles tensed.

  “Oh, but she is the reason I am confident you will sign a bank note this very evening for the amount I request. Ten thousand pounds should set my accounts right and give me a pretty piece to put aside. It is an easy sum for you, and you will soon beg me to take it. It is in my power to ruin your sister and your precious family name.”

  Darcy gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. His hands squeezed into fists.

  “Explain yourself. Let me remind you how little time you have. Then, I suggest you develop a headache which requires you to return to the barracks.”

  Wickham saluted him. “Yes, sir. I will acquiesce, but I will leave here with what I want.”

  “What makes you think I will give you money when I have refused your requests before?”

  Wickham patted his pocket. There was a bulge in it Darcy had not seen before. Would Wickham shoot him in Bingley’s study with a house full of witnesses to attest they were in the same room together?

  Slowly, Wickham reached his hand inside his jacket. Darcy felt sweat bead under his cravat. He widened his stance and let his arms fall loose to his side. If Wickham was determined to shoot him at close range, the least he could do was fight. He would not provide a still target.

  His breath caught in his throat when Wickham pulled out, not a revolver, but a small, leather diary.

  “I heard that I am mentioned often in this written work.” He shook it in front of Darcy’s face, just out of reach, taunting him.

  Darcy heard the door open and close with a click, but his focus never left Georgiana’s diary.

  “How did you get that?”

  “It was no easy task, and it never would have been possible without some inside help.” Wickham looked at Miss Bingley, who stood next to him, gushing at the compliment.

  Darcy struggled to keep calm. They must not know how deeply this affected him.

  Keeping his voice steady, Darcy glared at her. “You stole Georgiana’s diary? Did you read its contents?”

  She twisted her shoulders to the side and placed a hand over her heart. “Me? Betray my young friend’s trust so blatantly? Never, Mr. Darcy. It hurts my feelings that you believe me capable of such treachery.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “It was my sister. Louisa read enough to see how useful it was for me. It was a necessary means to an end. The rules of fair play do not apply in love or war.”

  “You love my fortune and my position in society. Not me.” He had never hated her before, but now… hatred was not strong enough to express what he felt toward her.

  “That is enough drama for now, you two lovebirds.” Wickham tucked the diary back into his pocket. “You know very well what damage could be done to a young lady were her secret thoughts and near sins revealed in her own handwriting. Your sister would be ruined. She would pine away an old maid at Pemberley, and you would have failed her as a brother and guardian. Your entire family would be let down and cut you from their society— the
ones who remain, that is.” He paused, clearly enjoying himself.

  “Miss Bingley and I have come up with a rather delightful solution to all this unpleasantness. All I ask is the small sum of ten thousand pounds and the guarantee that I might receive more as the need arises. All Miss Bingley asks is…” He extended his hand out for her to finish his thought.

  “You will marry me so that I will be the Mistress of Pemberley.” She leveled her eyes at Darcy and crossed her arms.

  “You would stoop so low as to blackmail me to make you my wife?” It seemed preposterous.

  “Nothing else I have done has worked.”

  “That is because I do not love you, nor will I ever learn to.”

  “That soon became apparent to me when Miss Eliza weaseled her way into a week’s stay here.” Her voice was as bitter as her face was haughty. “You are too good for the likes of her, and I could not stand by as she snatched away what I have worked so hard to achieve.”

  Darcy resented being spoken of as nothing more than an object to fight over. Like children with a toy. Had his preference of Miss Elizabeth been so obvious? In a struggle with Miss Bingley, she would win ten times over. He wished she stood beside him now.

  Wickham spoke. “Give us what we want and the diary is yours.”

  Chapter 18

  Darcy needed to buy time. He would not acquiesce without a fight, but he needed time to think. Time to plan— something Wickham would never grant him unless… How was it Georgiana had manipulated Miss Bingley?

  “I need more time. Give me a week to make arrangements.”

  Wickham laughed. “You hardly need that much time. You are no stranger to making decisions at the drop of a hat.”

  “You have me at such a disadvantage, Wickham. You have played your cards well. Give me more time. Your offer is to keep the Darcy name above reproach. How are we to do that if things appear to happen too quickly? If my family suffers, we have no deal.”