The Gypsy Blessing

by Wendi Sotis

  Darcy shifted uncomfortably, knowing that what she said was true with some men who called themselves gentlemen.

  “As I am sure you can imagine, companion positions do not last long, for as soon as the lady marries, I must find another place.” Mrs. Younge’s eyes filled with tears. “The last gentleman I worked for before coming to work for you was the worst of the lot, and I did not believe that his daughter could expect a proposal any time soon.” She blew her nose. “You can see why I had to get away. I was tired, Mr. Darcy... so very tired.

  “Wickham had been an acquaintance of my husband. After Mr. Younge’s death, I continued to spend time with him on occasion. Personally, I had no grudge against your family, but Wickham did. When Wickham came to me with news of this position and suggested our original plan, I did not hesitate.”

  Mrs. Younge’s expression changed. She straightened her back and stated with conviction, “Every moment I have spent in your service has been for the purpose of gaining your trust and that of your sister. I was to find a way to blackmail you. Wickham promised that, with the money we obtained from you, I would again enjoy the comforts I had known as a gentlewoman.”

  Darcy clenched his fists, but he did not want to interrupt her speech.

  She laughed without mirth. “But you were too honourable for my own good, Mr. Darcy! At first, I thought I might actually be able to enjoy being Miss Darcy’s companion, but I knew that eventually she would marry, and I would be required to find a new position. I could not return to that life. I even became resentful towards you both for treating me so well.” She stared past Darcy, at nothing in particular. “In my free time, I met with Wickham. He and I eventually devised a way to gain what we sought. To him, it meant revenge; to me, our plan represented freedom.

  “If Wickham married Miss Darcy, I might not gain respectability, but I was so much in love with him by the time our plans changed that it no longer mattered, as long as I could live a life of comfort.”

  She looked up at Darcy and smiled. “I am not blind, Mr. Darcy. I have been quite aware of Wickham’s habits with other women, but his dalliances never lasted long, and he always returned to me.”

  It seemed she had finished, and though Darcy was thoroughly disgusted with the woman, he still had unanswered questions. His nostrils flared as he asked, “Why did you wait until Ramsgate?”

  “At Pemberley and your London house, we were surrounded by too many loyal servants to make a move, so I gave Wickham our address at Ramsgate. Your sister is not stupid, Mr. Darcy, but even you must admit that she is naive—if it hadn’t been for the Bennets and Mrs. Gardiner, I am certain that Miss Darcy would have run off to Scotland with Wickham.” Her expression turned wistful as she continued, “I hoped that by now we would have gained Miss Darcy’s fortune, and I would have been set up as his mistress.”

  Darcy’s fists were clenched so tightly that his fingernails dug into the palms of his hands. He had never been so close to hitting a woman before in his life as he was at this moment, but he would never stoop so low as to follow through with it.

  Mrs. Younge laughed. “It was you that gave us this opportunity, Mr. Darcy. I had not heard from Wickham since he had fled Ramsgate, but you sent me to the village to watch for him and to keep my ears open for any stories he might have spread about your family. In Meryton, we had the opportunity to get past our differences and begin planning anew, without raising suspicions about my being gone from the house.

  “The confusion of so many people at the ball was the perfect opportunity. If all had gone as planned, you would have been forced to grant your permission for them to marry and give Wickham control of her money! It sounded so simple—” Her voice tightened, and she paused several moments to use her handkerchief before continuing.

  “Although I am glad that Wickham has not killed anyone, if it had not been for Miss Elizabeth, our success would have been complete.” She looked up at him, a fierce hatred in her tone as she said, “I suspect she is not as innocent as she portrays herself to be. She must be one of Wickham’s conquests. He had to have spoken too carelessly whilst lost in the depths of passion, never expecting that she would betray him.”

  She had gone too far. Darcy roared, “You will not speak of Miss Bennet in that manner. Ever!”

  Mrs. Younge’s eyes flashed with anger, but she remained quiet.

  Hughes cleared his throat from the doorway of Darcy’s bedchamber.

  Darcy continued to stare at Mrs. Younge for several moments—the expression on his face showed he was in quite the dangerous state. Eventually, her gaze shifted submissively to the floor.

  Darcy huffed and strode over to where Hughes stood waiting.

  “It seems that Wickham is waking, sir.” Hughes whispered.

  Darcy took a deep breath. I must deal with him immediately.

  ~

  A moment after Darcy had passed through the doorway to his bedchamber Wickham’s laughter rang out. “You look exactly like a man who has almost lost everything he holds dear, Darcy.”

  Darcy gestured to Hughes, and the valet removed himself to the dressing room. Darcy walked towards the couch Wickham reclined upon. “I warn you, Wickham, my patience is already worn extremely thin. Do not tempt me, for I would very much enjoy thrashing you again.”

  Wickham laughed again, stopping suddenly when his ribs pained him. “I think you broke a rib.”

  “’Tis nothing compared to what you deserve.”

  “Although I relish the idea of having your sister’s stockings against my skin,” Wickham raised his hands to his face and stroked his bindings across his cheek. “I find I can’t enjoy it as much as I’d like. You tied them too tight—my hands are numb.”

  “Enough of this banter!” Darcy’s eyes flashed dangerously. “I am through with your games, Wickham. After I speak to Mr. Bennet, I believe you will have two choices—prison or a ship to Australia. Do not try to bargain for anything more than this, for I promise that if you do, I will send for my cousin Richard. I would be happy to allow him to deal with you his way this time!”

  Wickham chose to ignore the last part of Darcy’s statement. With laughter in his eyes, Wickham asked, “Prison? For what?”

  For the second time tonight, it took Darcy a minute to overcome his astonishment in order to speak. “You tried to kill Miss Elizabeth!”

  Wickham waved the thought away. “I was angry and became lost in a moment of rage. I did not kill her. I did not even really harm her. If you turned me in, I would not hesitate to ruin your sister’s reputation by telling everyone who will listen about our affair at Ramsgate, also mentioning that I was in bed with her tonight.”

  In an attempt to give himself a few moments to control his temper, Darcy turned towards the fireplace and placed his hand on the mantle before turning back to face Wickham. “Tell me, Wickham, who would you tell? How many of your fellow prisoners will care? Do you think they have connexions high enough in society that their hearing your falsehoods would matter to me?”

  “I would begin talking the moment I am taken into custody.”

  “Do you honestly think that people would believe what you say after you have just been arrested for the attempted murder of a lady—who just happens to be the daughter of the magistrate for this area?” Darcy paused to let that sink in. “In addition, I have proof enough of the debts that I have paid in your behalf. Even better, add to that Bingley’s testimony of all that he had heard about your character at university. Your word would never be trusted.”

  All colour drained from Wickham’s face. He cleared his throat. “You mentioned Australia?”

  Darcy chuckled without humour. “If Mr. Bennet agrees, I would make certain you leave England on the first ship bound for that destination.” Darcy stared directly into Wickham’s eyes as he asked, “Why did you do this, Wickham?”

  “Why not? I have always taken what is yours, Darcy. After stealing your rightful place in your father’s heart and robbing you of your own mother’s attention,
why would you think I would hesitate to take what is most dear to you now—Georgiana!” He chuckled. “Miss Elizabeth was icing on the cake. I have seen the way you act towards her.”

  Darcy shook his head slightly. “Believe that of my parents if you wish, but I know the truth. Why even try to take what you believe is mine?”

  “Living by the rules never got me very far! My only fault was being born to the wrong father. You had everything, and I was left with a pittance—it was not fair. I deserved better. If the Darcys had never had a son, I would not have been passed over.”

  Darcy’s mouth dropped open. “Are you saying that you actually believe that you would have inherited my father’s fortune had I not been born? Wickham, you could never have become his heir—even if I had never existed, there would have been another Darcy to inherit. Although my father did not suspect the extent to which you stooped, he recognized some of your wild ways. Out of respect for your father, he gave you an education so that you had the chance to become more than you could have been without it. In his will, he gifted you more than you had any right to expect. It was up to you to work to better yourself. How could you never see this?”

  “Do not fool yourself, Darcy—I saw everything! I saw that whilst I was expected to work hard to make something of myself, you rested on your laurels and enjoyed your many luxuries.” Wickham snarled. “But you’re like an old man, Darcy. You never took advantage of what that kind of wealth can mean! It should have gone to someone like me instead—someone who lives life to its fullest!”

  “Rested on my laurels?” Darcy’s shock displayed clearly on his face. “If there had been a way for you to inherit, Wickham, Pemberley would now be in ruins, and the countless families that depend upon the estate to provide for them would have starved. Managing a thriving estate takes a great deal of hard work and a sense of responsibility. You never would have been able to accomplish what is required.” He shook his head once again. “I have had enough of this nonsense. It was never yours to begin with, and it never could have been. What you did have, you squandered away.

  “Wickham, I give you this warning. As of tonight, you are nothing but a boil that has pained me—a parasite that has been sapping my strength for ages. When this is over, I will shed even the slightest burden of responsibility I have ever felt towards you and cast it away like an old coat. I will be overjoyed to be rid of you. You will be more than dead to me—it will be as if you never existed. If your name is mentioned, I will deny that I have ever known you.”

  Darcy did not give him a chance to reply. He walked over to the door to his dressing room. “Hughes!” he called out.

  When Hughes appeared in the open doorway, it was with a glass of brandy. The valet placed it on a shelf inside the dressing room. Passing through the door to the bedchamber, he said, “I will keep an eye on things in here, Mr. Darcy.”

  Darcy said in a low tone meant only for Hughes’s ears, “The bonus I planned to include in your pay has just increased twofold.” Darcy closed the door behind Hughes, downed the drink in one gulp, and sank into the chair usually reserved for shaving purposes. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he rubbed at his face.

  The image of Elizabeth thanking him for saving her life was suddenly before him. The memory of the expression in her eyes at that moment could warm him for as long as he lived.

  But, how did you know, Elizabeth?

  Mrs. Younge’s accusations returned to his mind, along with what he himself had once suspected, but he shook his head.

  Impossible!

  He had seen Elizabeth’s posture when with Wickham in Meryton—it was not even one of a woman scorned. She despised the man.

  How she knew what Wickham and Younge had in mind matters not. She is the bravest, most selfless woman I have ever known.

  His soul filled with admiration and gratitude for the woman for whom he had long denied having feelings. Most ladies would have swooned and collapsed on the floor had they experienced tonight’s horrors. Not Elizabeth—instead, she had gone on, trying to relieve their anxieties about her health.

  No, he realized, that is not true. No other lady that I know would have put Georgiana’s safety above her own.

  When I was certain that Elizabeth was wounded, I knew that if she died, my heart would die, as well. He shook his head. I am a fool for thinking that I could forget her! I cannot live without her.

  I love her.

  Suddenly full of energy once more, Darcy felt as though he must see Elizabeth that instant. He jumped up from the chair.

  Passing through the bedchamber, he said to Hughes, “I will return shortly.” He walked through the sitting room, nodding at Marie and James, not even sparing a glance for Mrs. Younge, and then knocked on his sister’s bedchamber door, asking that he be admitted.

  Elizabeth unlocked the door and peeked around it, stepping aside only after she had made certain it was safe. He closed the door firmly behind him.

  Elizabeth met his gaze. He could not take his eyes off her. She was wearing a shawl he had given to Georgiana. It warmed his heart to see something he had spent such care choosing now hugging Elizabeth’s shoulders.

  Realizing he was staring, he blurted out, “Miss Elizabeth, there have been some repulsive accusations made about how you were aware of Wickham and Younge’s plans.” Darcy cringed. Of all the things I could have said—

  Elizabeth’s face fell and she blinked rapidly. “Please do not tell me that you...”

  “No, no—I do not believe it.”

  She walked over to the fire and stared at the flames for a minute or two before saying, “Is it possible, sir, that my father and Jane be present for the remainder of this conversation?”

  Chapter 22

  Darcy stepped from Georgiana’s bedchamber in search of another footman, making certain he heard the click of the locking bolt behind him before he walked away. Remembering that he had seen Roger on the second floor, he headed towards the stairs.

  Darcy was certain that he had seen more than friendship in Roger’s eyes a few weeks ago when Roger looked upon Elizabeth in the corridor of Netherfield. At the time, Darcy had been wary of the man. Roger was a servant’s son who had befriended the children of the estate’s master—much like Wickham—but over time, Darcy had come to see that there was no other similarity between the two men.

  After too many errors in his own judgment, he now considered Elizabeth an excellent judge of character. She trusted her childhood friend. Darcy had to assume that, unlike Wickham, Roger knew and, more importantly, accepted his place in society and had never acted upon his feelings—and yet, those same emotions would work to everyone’s advantage in the present circumstances, including Roger’s.

  “Roger, if memory serves me, your parents are tenants of the Bennets, and you have known the family your entire life. For the sake of your friends and my sister, I must trust you with several tasks that will require you use the utmost discretion. Will you accept?”

  Darcy’s stern expression made Roger feel even more uneasy than he usually did whenever that gentleman was nearby. “Yes, Mr. Darcy. The Bennets have been kind to my family. I’d do almost anything for their protection, sir, if that’s what you’re askin’ of me.”

  “Good, that is exactly what I wished to hear. Please find and, very discreetly, ask Mr. Bennet and Miss Jane Bennet to join me in Miss Darcy’s sitting room on the third floor. I believe Miss Bennet knows where it is, but I would like you to escort them. Once they enter, you shall remain stationed outside the door. Allow nobody else into the sitting room or either of the bedchamber doors adjacent to it. And absolutely no one should come out without my permission!”

  Roger tightened his jaw as he stared at Darcy, his nostrils flaring. “Mr. Darcy, I may be speaking out of turn, but I saw Miss Elizabeth go above stairs earlier, and she never came down. Is she well, sir?”

  I was correct in one respect—Roger cares for Elizabeth a great deal. He would probably pummel me if he thought I had harmed her. He is th
e perfect man to have outside that door! “There has been an incident. Miss Elizabeth is well, but...” Darcy blinked several times as he tried to sort through just what he should tell this man. He waited until a maid scurried down the stairs and out of hearing range before he continued. “There is only so much I can say here. I ask for you to do what is necessary to make certain that Miss Elizabeth and Miss Darcy remain well.”

  Roger searched Darcy’s eyes. “I will do what you ask, Mr. Darcy. No one’ll get past me.”

  Darcy clapped Roger on the shoulder, surprising the footman.

  “Thank you, Roger. If there is ever a time when Bingley no longer requires your services, come to me. You will always have a place at a Darcy household.”

  ~%~

  “Ladies, I feel the best place for this meeting to take place would be the sitting room. I would much rather not place that woman in the same room with Wickham, as would be necessary if she was moved to my chamber. I hope you will forgive me, but I see no other alternative at present except to relocate Mrs. Younge to Georgiana’s bedchamber once more.”

  Darcy unlocked the door to the sitting room and escorted the ladies through.

  As she passed into the room, Elizabeth could feel the depth of hatred in Mrs. Younge’s glare as her beady eyes followed Elizabeth’s every step. Relief passed through her as Marie, Mrs. Younge, and the footman disappeared into Georgiana’s bedchamber.