Darcy shook his head. “The horses aren’t fresh.”
“Where did Pratt go?” Colonel Forster looked around. “Pratt! Where the devil is he?”
“Coming, sir,” a voice called from down the hall. Mrs. Forster stepped aside as Pratt came running in. “I may have done the wrong thing,” he said breathlessly, “but I ordered four horses saddled. They should be here in a few minutes.”
“Perfect. Good man,” Forster said. “Now go ask around. Find out if anyone had seen that devil Wickham or Miss Bennet. Catch up to us as soon as you have something. We’ll be headed north.”
“Yes, sir,” Pratt said. “I’ll start with the staff.” He saluted smartly and hurried from the room.
Forster led the way outside. True to the Lieutenant’s word, four horses were being walked up. Darcy, Richard and Forster took three, heading north out of town. They weren’t on the road long when Pratt caught up with them with a description of the carriage and confirmation they were headed in the right direction.
As they rode, Darcy realized it was likely they would catch Wickham and Miss Lydia before long. Wickham probably wanted to preserve the horses but get reasonably far that night. That would mean going slowly, in spite of the light of the nearly full moon.
They slowed their mounts to a walk to rest them. It was more important to keep them fresh and avoid injury than to catch Wickham a bit sooner. Now that they were behind him on the road, and he in a coach with no idea they were in pursuit, the outcome was almost certain.
Colonel Forster reined his horse in to drop back and come alongside Darcy. “I don’t quite understand. Why would Wickham elope with the girl rather than ask Mr. Bennet for her hand? From what I recall, he’s five daughters to marry off. I’m sure he wouldn’t turn down a redcoat for one of the lot.”
Darcy forced down his anger at Wickham, keeping his voice controlled. “Wickham has always been eager to have young women share his bed, but a dowry like Miss Bennet’s isn’t likely to tempt him to marriage. He probably has debts here and in Meryton, and knows himself well enough to realize he’ll rack up many more. Wickham has always fancied himself a wealthy wife to end his financial troubles.”
Colonel Forster looked shocked. “I hope you are mistaken. I’ve known the man to be a bit lazy, but not a cad.” He looked Darcy up and down. “What is your role in this?”
“I know Wickham and his character well, yet I didn’t warn others. Had I, this may have been prevented. Also, he was my father’s protégé and I feel responsible for any harm he does.”
Darcy hoped Colonel Forster wouldn’t ask him if he had other reasons, although there was truth in what he’d said. He did have an obligation to his father’s protégé, even if he didn’t like or respect him. He was simply leaving out that about which he didn’t wish to speak. He didn’t want to divulge his interest in creating very close ties to the Bennet family. Though he would wed Elizabeth no matter what scandal her sister embroiled herself in, he still hoped to save the woman he loved the pain such familial disgrace would bring.
They increased their pace again, putting an end to talking. While he rode, Darcy thought about what he wanted to do to Wickham. His mind went through fists, swords, and pistols. Each possibility gave him considerable satisfaction. Wickham had never worked hard at anything. Darcy was no longer interested in boxing, but he’d taken it seriously for a couple of years, as he still did fencing and shooting. He was considerably better than Wickham at all three.
By the time they slowed their horses again, Darcy had worked his way through every imaginable retribution and his anger had begun to lose its fierce edge. Much as the thought of hurting or even killing Wickham pleased him, he realized the fact that he could beat Wickham meant he wouldn’t try. To challenge him would be murder, and a more gentlemanly death than Wickham deserved.
Darcy ground his teeth. Why did being a gentleman mean he had to be so sensible? Why couldn’t he let his anger go and attack Wickham, scum that he was?
He knew the answer, of course. Years of reading the best masters hadn’t been squandered. Darcy was civilized, even if Wickham wasn’t. Yes, Wickham lied, racked up debts and had tried to elope with Georgiana. Yes, he was obviously willing to seduce a gently bred, very foolish, young lady. None of that excused Darcy from his responsibility to behave properly. He would not take advantage of his superior strength and skill. That was not the mark of a gentleman. Wickham’s worth did not dictate how Darcy should behave. His own did. He wasn’t willing to compromise his honor for the likes of Wickham.
Really, there was only one way in which Wickham was superior. He was able to get along with people. Was Darcy jealous of him? A little. He was jealous of Wickham’s easy charm. Darcy remembered Elizabeth telling him before he proposed . . . what was it? That he should practice his social skills more. He took solace in knowing, though, that while Wickham made friends easily, his basic dishonesty meant he didn’t keep them. Darcy had never alienated a friend through improper behavior.
“That looks like it,” said Pratt, interrupting Darcy’s rambling thoughts.
Pratt urged his horse to greater speed. Darcy saw what he was planning and came up on the other side of the carriage. Each one of them grabbed the reins of a horse and, as if they’d rehearsed it, they pulled the carriage to a halt. The driver made no attempt to resist, his eyes wide as he took in the four men surrounding the coach, with two being in uniform.
Richard and Forster came up to the carriage doors, one on each side, and yanked them open.
“Miss Bennet, when you were invited to stay with me, I expected you to behave properly,” Forster barked into the carriage.
“But we’re going to be married.”
Darcy recognized the voice as Lydia Bennet.
“Not without your father’s permission, you aren’t,” Colonel Forster said.
“George said we could get his permission afterward. Besides, he has some silly debts or some such, so we had to leave,” Miss Lydia said.
Darcy grimaced at her inanely cheerful tone.
“My father will give permission,” she continued. “I’ve been alone with my Georgie in a closed carriage for more than an hour.”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, how good to see you.”
The oily charm in Wickham’s voice grated on Darcy.
“Can’t say the same,” Richard growled. “Sit over there, Wickham. I’m riding with you.”
Richard dismounted and Darcy moved up to take the reins of his horse. He caught a glimpse of Wickham’s back as he started to switch seats, then Richard filled the doorway, climbing in. Darcy urged his horse around to the back of the coach, where he could tie the extra mount.
“I don’t care how long you’ve been in a carriage with him,” Forster was saying to Lydia. “You are coming back to Brighton with us now. Move over, Miss Bennet. I’ll be chaperoning you on the return drive. Mr. Pratt, if you could take my horse?”
Pratt did so and Colonel Forster got in the carriage.
“How did you find us?” Darcy could hear Miss Lydia ask as he secured Richard’s horse. “I would have sworn Harriet wouldn’t enter my room until morning. I told her I had a terrible megrim and would sleep in.”
“You wrote your sister,” Richard said. “She showed the letter to Darcy who decided you needed rescuing.”
"And he sent you?” Wickham’s tone dripped derision. “Darcy uses his father's money to hire people to do things because he cannot do them himself.”
Darcy realized Wickham must not have seen him. Neither Colonel corrected Wickham’s misapprehension. He didn’t mind. Maybe, for once, he would gain honest knowledge of what Wickham said about him instead of a courteously tempered rendition.
“Did Mr. Darcy tell you I can’t be allowed to marry George?” Miss Lydia cried. “He has no right to order us about. He hates my Georgie because his father loved George better.”
“He always misrepresents me to his own advantage,” Wickham added.
Darcy nearly had
to admire the man. Wickham’s words would be the exact truth, if Darcy had spoken them about Wickham. The man lied so easily, it bordered on a pathology.
“Mr. Darcy’s feelings toward Wickham have nothing to do with you being permitted to run off with a man while under my roof,” Forster barked. “I’ve had about enough of this. Pratt,” he called in an even louder voice. “See that this carriage gets us back to Brighton.”
From where he lingered behind the coach, Darcy could see Forster reach out and close the door. Richard closed the other. As they rode slowly back, Darcy amused himself by envisioning the scene inside the carriage. Wickham was across from his commanding officer, whose guest he’d run off with and next to Richard, of whom he’d always been a little afraid. It was a fitting first step in punishing the man.
Darcy hung back when they arrived in Brighton. Neither of the runaways appeared to notice him when they disembarked the carriage. Colonel Forster ordered some soldiers to help Pratt lock up Wickham. He then walked a tearful Miss Lydia into the house.
She looked back, likely searching for Wickham, and her eyes alighted on Darcy. He could tell by the surprise and anger that transformed her features that she recognized him. He wasn’t sure if she realized he was one of the men who’d stopped the carriage. Colonel Forster marched her upstairs to lock her in her room. Mrs. Forster looked on with grim satisfaction. When Colonel Forster returned, Mrs. Foster handed him a note.
After reading it, Colonel Forster turned to Darcy and Richard. “Your coachman has arranged lodgings for you both at the Lion Inn. I’ll order a meal for us. After we eat, Pratt can take you there and bring your mounts back. You are welcome to stay here, if you prefer.”
“The inn is fine,” Darcy said, glancing at Richard.
Richard nodded in agreement.
“You should know that on the ride back, with some prodding from Colonel Fitzwilliam, Wickham admitted that the story he told about you was a lie.”
“What story?” Darcy had never learned what Elizabeth had believed he’d done to Wickham.
“He put it out that you arbitrarily denied him a valuable living that your father wanted him to have. In the coach, Wickham admitted that you paid him three thousand pounds for it and that he came to you with the request.”
“Was that why Miss Bennet was crying?” Darcy had assumed it was because she’d been caught. “Wickham’s falsehood was revealed?”
“I don’t think the fool girl would care. No, she was crying because when I put it to him, Wickham refused to marry her. He said he’d never offered her marriage and had never planned to marry her. He’d only asked her to run away with him.”
That was a cruel thing to admit in front of the lady, even by Wickham’s standards. “I thought that once cornered he would wed her,” Darcy admitted. A cad like Wickham could do worse than the attractive and chipper, if addle brained, Miss Lydia. Not to mention, usually Wickham would do anything to save face. “Mr. Bennet isn’t rich, but he could probably cover Wickham’s debts.”
“Wickham still thinks he can marry an heiress,” Richard said dryly. “This did not please Miss Bennet.”
Darcy shook his head. Wickham was a fool. “Will you be writing her father?” he asked Forster.
“I’ll do it now. I would rather get it over with. Let me order our meal first.”
Although Darcy wanted a bed more than a meal, he politely waited for Colonel Forster to write the letter and then sat down to the meal provided. To Darcy’s surprise, Colonel Forster had Lieutenant Pratt join them. Mrs. Forster did not, saying she’d already dined.
“What will you do with Wickham?” Richard asked as they settled into their meal.
“For now, I’ll keep him locked up,” Forster said. He speared several vegetables with his fork. “To safeguard the lady’s reputation, I told people he’s been jailed because I learned he has many debts in Meryton and that he’s been accumulating more in Brighton.” He glanced at Darcy. “As I’d only your statements on that aspect of his character to go on, I thought at first I might have to eat my words, but one of my corporals told me that he was surprised I hadn’t known about Wickham’s Meryton debts.”
Darcy said nothing. There was no need to emphasize that he was honest and Wickham was not. He was tired of explaining that to people.
Richard grunted. “I assured you as much. He’s always been a reprobate. It would be a surprise if he changed.”
“I assume Miss Bennet’s father will be coming here,” Colonel Forster said, looking at Darcy.
“I would think so,” Darcy said. Mr. Bennet was an indolent father, but Darcy hoped the letter Elizabeth had sent would have Mr. Bennet already on his way.
“Let’s assume he does come. What do you think he’ll want done? I might be able to force Wickham to marry Miss Bennet, but I’m not sure that’s a good outcome for anyone. Wickham may end up in debtor’s prison someday. Miss Bennet is a silly fool, but she was under my care. I don’t want to face her father and tell him that his daughter has to marry such a man.”
Darcy frowned. In spite of Wickham’s words in the coach, marriage between the two was now the only course, wasn’t it? In this one thing, he would see Wickham behave with honor.
“May I suggest an alternative?” Lieutenant Pratt said.
“You may,” Colonel Forster said.
“I have no idea of what to do about Wickham, but I have a suggestion for Miss Bennet. Under certain conditions, I would marry her.”
“You would marry her?” Richard echoed.
Pratt nodded, his expression one of resolve.
“What conditions?” Forster asked, the surprise on his face mirroring Darcy’s own.
“From you, a promotion to captain, sir.”
“I’d lose the best aide I ever had,” Forster complained.
“Put that on the write up for his promotion,” Richard said, grinning.
“What else?” Forster asked.
Darcy couldn’t read the expression Forster had schooled his features into, but he hoped the man was considering it. He hadn’t known Lieutenant Pratt for long, but it was already obvious he’d make a much better husband than Wickham. Darcy would like to see this thing done for Elizabeth, so she wouldn’t have to worry about her sister. To his surprise, Pratt turned to him.
“Mr. Darcy, you said you feel some responsibility for Miss Bennet because you didn’t publicize Wickham’s character,” Pratt said. “Would you be willing to arrange for a special license?”
“Yes, but why not banns?” Darcy asked.
“Miss Bennet might agree to marry me in the next couple of days because she’s angry with Wickham, but I’ve observed her to be relatively fickle in her affections. In a few weeks, she might change her mind. I want that captaincy.”
Darcy nodded. He agreed with Pratt’s assessment of Lydia Bennet. Judging by the respect on their faces, the two colonels did as well.
“Do you have a notion of what I can expect in a dowry, sir?” Pratt asked, still looking at Darcy.
“Fifty pounds a year from her family while both parents live. After that, her share of the five thousand pounds settled on her mother.” Darcy hoped the rumors circulated in Meryton were accurate when it came to the monetary situation of the Bennet family. Of course, in view of their lack of accuracy with regards to him, it was a lot to hope.
“Why are you willing to marry her?” Richard asked, frowning. “There must be easier ways to get a captaincy.”
“Not for me. I’ve been saving, but it will take years to save enough and by then the war might be over. I’m a second son and have four sisters who were dowered. My parents have no more money for me.” He turned to look at the small fire that was burning low in the hearth. “Miss Bennet is a silly thing, but she’s always cheerful and undeniably pretty. I want a wife, but can’t afford one on lieutenant’s pay.”
“She doesn’t know how to save.” Darcy felt compelled to warn the man.
“She’s young enough to learn,” Pratt said.
Darcy nodded. He hoped so, for Pratt’s sake. “I’m willing to do my share of this,” he said, pointedly looking at Colonel Forster.
“I think the two of us can arrange a captaincy for Mr. Pratt,” Richard said.
Colonel Forster sighed. “You were bound to leave me eventually,” he said. He held out his hand to Pratt and they shook. “Assuming Mr. Bennet agrees, I now need to decide what to do about Wickham. I don’t want to initiate an action to send one of my officers to debtors’ prison.”
“If you want to have a weapon to make Mr. Wickham agree to something, I have an idea,” Darcy said. Even though Wickham hadn’t agreed to wed Miss Lydia to save face, Darcy still knew the man’s greatest weakness. Wickham was obsessed with the appearance of respectability.
“What do you suggest?” Forster asked.
“Public humiliation,” Darcy said.
Across from him, Richard grinned.
Chapter Fifteen
Darcy’s idea took a little work. The first step was to find an artist who could draw an accurate depiction of Wickham. The artist worked while Wickham was sleeping, because they’d all agreed the plan would work better if they could spring it on him. The final portrait wasn’t particularly flattering, but it was reasonably accurate.
It was harder to find someone to convert the portrait into a woodcut, but Darcy eventually found the appropriate craftsman. He decided the first run would only be fifty copies. Printed above Wickham’s picture were the words, “Mr. Wickham does not pay his debts.” Below the picture were the words, “Make him pay in cash. Warning: he may change his name or hairstyle. He has blue eyes, medium brown hair, and a faint two inch scar on the outside of his right wrist.”
The day after the first print run, Darcy received a note from Colonel Forster saying that Mr. Bennet had arrived in town. Darcy wasn’t surprised when, the following day, Mr. Bennet called upon him at the Lion Inn. Darcy had rented two rooms adjoined by a sitting room for himself and Richard. Since his parlor allowed more privacy than the taproom, he received Mr. Bennet there.
A Death at Rosings: A Pride & Prejudice Variation Page 14
