by Leenie Brown
Darcy has made me aware of the presence in your neighbourhood of a particular scoundrel with a well-practiced charm and ease of manner which will ingratiate him with nearly one and all. However, he is not to be trusted with credit, cards, or the hearts and virtue of young ladies.
Mr. Wickham is, as he will doubtless present himself, an acquaintance of the Darcy family and has been for many years. His father was my uncle’s steward and a fine, upstanding man. His son has not been blessed with the same stalwart character. While Mr. Wickham’s father served the late Mr. Darcy well, treating him with the respect due to one of his station, Mr. Wickham has treated my cousins poorly and has tarnished the memories of both the late Mr. Darcy and his own father.
There is much history into which we could delve but suffice it to say that W. was a favourite of my uncle, and in homage to the service W’s father had provided for Pemberley, my uncle bequeathed W a legacy of one thousand pounds and held for him the living that was in my uncle’s power to bestow. The living was to be given upon there being a vacancy and W’s taking orders. However, W did not wish to take orders but instead petitioned to be allowed to study the law. My cousin Darcy gave him three thousand pounds in lieu of the living. As it turns out, the law did not agree with W, and he spent his time and fortune in licentious living. When his funds had all been squandered, he returned to Darcy to request that he be allowed the living, which had just fallen open. Darcy refused based on the former arrangement of money in exchange for the living as well as the knowledge that W’s lifestyle was not fitting for a man of the cloth. As you may well imagine, W was furious and abused my cousin severely.
Darcy thought that this would be his last interaction with the man, but alas, it was not. And this is the portion of the tale that I impart with trepidation. The sharing of the above is of little significance. However, what I share now is of a graveness that as a father I am certain you will appreciate.
It was just this past spring when W made his appearance and attempted to exact his revenge on Darcy. While Miss Darcy was in Ramsgate with her companion, a woman we later discovered was a friend of W’s, Wickham played upon her tender heart and aroused her affection with the goal of persuading her to elope with him, thereby acquiring her thirty thousand and ensuring the misery of her brother. Thankfully, Darcy arrived before the scheme could be set into motion, and his sister confessed the whole of the matter to him. Once again, Wickham did not leave my cousin’s presence on friendly terms as you can well imagine.
He is a profligate and a gambler who will likely leave Hertfordshire with many unpaid debts and quite likely a few ruined maids.
I am given to understand, by my cousin’s account and that of Mr. Bingley, that you have several pretty daughters. I know that they do not have a fortune equal to what Miss Darcy has, but one of them has something that money cannot buy and would make her of great interest to W. – my cousin’s admiration. The possibility of separating Darcy from a lady he admires would please W immensely.
I have written a letter to Colonel Forster regarding W’s propensity to dally with the ladies and be less than genuine with the merchants. I have done all this at my cousin’s request as he does not wish to see the residents of Hertfordshire harmed by Wickham. He would have made his case known while in the area if it were not for fear of Miss Darcy’s folly being exposed and his fear that he could not calmly and rationally relate his knowledge of the man since the wound caused to his sister is still not one which has healed.
Again, I would petition you, as both a gentleman and a father, to protect this information. Please notify either myself or Darcy should any merchant find that he has fallen prey to Wickham’s liberty in purchasing and lack of the same in paying his debts. Darcy has given his word that he will settle such accounts should the need arise.
God Bless,
R.F.
Mr. Bennet sank back in his chair. First, he had received a missive from Gardiner mentioning both that there were wealthy and upstanding gentleman who admired and wished to court his eldest daughters and that there was a man in the militia of whom he should be cautious, and now this letter repeated much of what he had heard though it delved more deeply into the harm that Wickham had caused the Darcy family. He shook his head. He could not pass such damaging information off as being the dislike of one man to another, for what gentleman would place his sister’s reputation in such a potentially damaging position without cause?
“Come,” he called in response to the knock at his door.
“Hill said you wished to see me.” Elizabeth entered and took a seat near her father.
He nodded and gave her a fleeting glance. His mind was still turning over the information he had just read. He placed the letter in his hand next to the one from Mr. Gardiner on the desk. “I understand you received a letter from Jane. How is she?”
Elizabeth drew a folded piece of paper from her pocket. “You may read it.”
He shook his head. “I trust you to tell me all that I must know. Has Mr. Bingley called on her?”
“He has!”
Mr. Bennet loved the way Elizabeth’s face would shine when she smiled as she was now. He watched as her brows furrowed, and the smile faded into puzzlement.
“It is the strangest thing,” she said as she unfolded her letter.
“How so?” He was certain he knew what or, more precisely, who made Mr. Bingley’s call strange.
“Mr. Darcy called with him.”
Mr. Bennet feigned surprise. “He did? Is he interested in courting Jane?” He bit back a smile as his second eldest daughter shook her head and looked at him with more confused astonishment than he had ever seen on her face. Perhaps Mr. Darcy would be good for her if he could challenge her way of thinking as he seemed to be doing. Elizabeth needed a husband with a keen mind and a will that was not easily bent. From what he had gathered of the man while out hunting, Mr. Darcy seemed to possess both fortitude and intelligence.
“According to Aunt Gardiner, he hopes to court me.”
“He is not Mr. Collins, and you must eventually marry.” Mr. Bennet chuckled as Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide. “He is a worthy gentleman, my dear.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “You do not find him disagreeable?”
Her father shrugged. “He has a tendency to be dour, or so it seems. However, our acquaintance was of a short duration, and we do not know what he would be like at his own home.” Her head cocked to the side, and he knew that he had likely gone too far in his acceptance of the man.
“What are you not telling me?”
He chuckled. She was perceptive even in her current befuddled state. “I have received two missives of my own with some startling information in them. However, before I share them with you, I must tell you that I am sending you to your aunt and uncle.”
“Why?” Caution — or was it trepidation that coloured her tone? Whichever it was, it caused Mr. Bennet’s lips to twitch in suppressed amusement. She was such a delight!
“Ten thousand a year is not a sum of money a lady refuses without due diligence in deciphering a gentleman’s character.”
Elizabeth’s mouth snapped closed. “You would have me marry him?”
He shook his head. “No, I would have you make an informed choice.” He passed her the two letters that lay on his desk. “One is from your uncle, and the other is from Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
She blinked and looked at her father in confusion.
“He introduces himself far better than I ever could,” he replied with a wink.
She began reading the colonel’s letter just as he knew she would. If any of the information in any of the four letters they held between them were to sway her opinion of Mr. Darcy and provide the man with a second chance, it was the colonel’s letter. “It seems our Mr. Darcy might have had just reason to be so unpleasant.”
He settled back and watched her face as she read the letter twice before proceeding to read her uncle’s letter.
“It seems Jane will be ma
rried soon,” he said as she began reading the second letter. “And you could be as well.”
Upon completion of her perusal of both letters, Elizabeth flopped back in her chair and expelled a whoosh of air.
“What say you?” her father asked.
Her head shook slowly from side to side. “I do not know what to say.” She handed him the letters she had received from Jane and her aunt. “The Mr. Darcy described in these letters is not the Mr. Darcy I met.” Her brows drew together. “Can Mr. Wickham be so bad?”
Her father shrugged. “It appears he can be.”
Another whoosh of air escaped her.
“Your aunt and Jane have both included an apology from Mr. Darcy for his words at the assembly?”
Elizabeth nodded while one shoulder lifted and lowered in a small half shrug.
Mr. Bennet returned her letters to her and gathered his two from her. “You will not say anything about what you read in these.” He knew she would not, but he felt he must say it.
“No, of course not.” She folded her letters and put them back into her pocket. Then, she just sat there, her eyes fixed on the shelf of books behind her father.
Her head occasionally shook, and she grimaced, letting her father know that she was attempting to reason everything out while quite likely remonstrating herself for her lack of discernment about the character of not only Darcy but also Mr. Wickham. There was one thing in regard to that last gentleman that he needed to know. Elizabeth had spent a great deal of time in Wickham’s company and seemed to enjoy it.
“I must ask,” he began, “for I must know the full extent of things. Has Mr. Wickham touched your heart?”
Her eyes grew wide. “No, I counted him a friend but naught else.” She shook her head once again. “However, it appears he might not have even been that.”
“Sadly, yes.” Mr. Bennet drew a deep breath and expelled it. “I found him very pleasant and had thought he might even make a good son.” He shrugged. “But, I would not consign any of my daughters to a marriage with one who can squander money as readily as it seems he does.”
Elizabeth nodded.
“You may go. I can see you need time to ponder.”
Elizabeth rose slowly from her chair and moved toward the door, but she turned back instead of opening the door and exiting as her father expected. “Mr. Darcy admires me?”
There was so much disbelief in her tone that it caused his heart to pinch at the thought of not having her here to visit him in his study. However, Derbyshire was not so very far away. What was a couple days journey when it took you to where your child resided?
“It appears he does.”
Her lips curled upwards, likely of their own accord since the expression in her eyes was still distant.
“I will take you to town myself,” he said, causing her eyes to become focused and her lashes to flutter in surprise. “Tell your aunt that we will arrive in a se’nnight. And not a word to your mother about Mr. Bingley. I shall tell her that news when it is closer to our time to depart. Jane does not need her mother descending upon her or her Mr. Bingley before the papers are signed.” He chuckled at the way Elizabeth rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Nor do we wish her to know that there is a gentleman with ten thousand a year who would like to persuade another one of her daughters into the matrimonial state.”
“Papa!” Elizabeth chided.
“I am merely stating things as I see them. Now, off with you to consider what you have learned and to decide if your old papa is correct in his suppositions.” He waved her away. “I look forward to hearing your conclusions,” he called as she pulled the door shut behind her, and he was left to consider for himself the truth of two daughters married.
Chapter 11
While Elizabeth considered what to make of the letters that she had read, Darcy and Bingley were introducing Sir Matthew Broadhurst to Caroline. They did not do so directly, of course. Bingley was still not on speaking terms with his sister, and she was equally as put out with him.
“Hurst,” Bingley greeted his brother-in-law as he sat down at the table which had just been vacated by the men who had been playing cards with Mr. Hurst.
Hurst grunted something of a greeting. “I cannot tolerate her.” He waved his glass at a footman for a refill. “Louisa, I can abide on most days, but Caroline?” He shook his head. “And she does not have a pleasing effect on her sister. It is not right that I should be saddled with both of your sisters.” He took a large gulp from his fresh glass of port.
“She is here?” Bingley asked calmly. He could understand the man’s displeasure. Caroline was demanding and often in a foul mood if things were not done as she wished them done. He could only imagine just how cantankerous Caroline was at present with her spending curtailed, her residence moved, and her schemes to see him married to one of her friends at an end.
“She will be at any venue where there is a chance of foisting her off on some poor swain,” he replied with no little amount of determination.
“Do you think you could pretend she is not the extreme burden she is for a few moments?” Hurst in his current state would be of no help in convincing Sir Matthew to meet Caroline.
Hurst lifted a skeptical brow. “Is there a good reason for such a performance?”
Bingley smiled and nodded as he settled back into his chair. “Indeed, there is. His name is Sir Matthew Broadhurst.”
Hurst’s head tipped to the side, and his glass returned to the table without a drop of its contents being consumed. “Continue.”
“Sir Matthew is in need of wife before he can claim the entirety of his inheritance. We are in need of someone – anyone – to marry Caroline. He is willing to meet her, but I am sure you can see how my introducing him to her would not make his acceptance a possibility of even minuscule size.”
Leaning back in his chair and wearing a half-pleased expression, Hurst cradled his port in his hand, taking a small sip before stating what both men knew to be true. “She’ll not have him no matter who introduces him to her. He’s not Darcy.”
“She will never have Darcy.”
“Aye, we both know that, but she’s as daft as a duck trying to swim in a frozen pond.”
Bingley chuckled. Caroline was not a fool about everything. However, when it came to her ambitions to gain Pemberley, she made the residents of Bedlam seem perfectly rational.
“Does he know she will not come willingly?” There was a calculating look in Hurst’s eyes that Bingley had expected to see. Hurst was not without the ability and desire to scheme himself into better circumstances, and Bingley knew that being relieved of Caroline as a house guest was the best circumstance that could occur at the moment.
“He is only meeting her. He has not agreed to take her off our hands just yet,” Bingley cautioned. “Hence the need to tread carefully.”
“Aye, let me meet the fellow. I shall not hide her flaws, but I will not parade them before the man either.”
Bingley looked toward the door and nodded to Darcy. “The sooner we get on with this business the better, do you not think?” Bingley replied to Hurst’s startled look as Darcy and Sir Matthew approached. “She is never returning to my house.”
Hurst scowled and then smiled. “Tie ‘er up and toss her in a carriage bound for Gretna Green on the hour.”
“Perhaps we should not move quite so quickly as that,” Bingley replied with a laugh.
“You only say that because she is not at your house,” muttered Hurst.
“Sir Matthew, my brother, Mr. Reginald Hurst. Hurst, Sir Matthew Broadhurst of Stoningham in Surrey. I have explained to Hurst that you would like an introduction to Caroline, and he is willing to provide you the service.”
“Anxious to be rid of her?” Sir Matthew asked pointedly.
“Like the pox,” Hurst grumbled.
Bingley gave his brother’s shin a solid kick.
“I prefer to have my wife to myself,” Hurst added, moving his legs outside the range of Bin
gley’s boot.
Sir Matthew’s expression grew grave. “I am no fool. I know if both brothers and a good friend of the family wishes to be rid of a lady, there is a reason, and that reason must have to do with a deficiency of some sort.”
Hurst sighed and lifted his glass to his lips, taking a swallow before continuing. “She is determined to have Darcy,” he said. “And like a filly who wishes for the grass in the meadow rather than the feed in the stall, she is stubborn and kicking against the constraints of reality.”
“That is no doubt part of what you wished to tell me if this meeting between myself and Miss Bingley is to my liking?” he asked Bingley.
Bingley nodded. “I did not wish to drag Darcy’s situation out to just anyone, but yes.”
“A harridan?”
Bingley’s heart sank at the word. How would he ever persuade a chap to take on Caroline? She was every inch a harridan.
“She’s not always been,” said Hurst. “She just has the notion in her head that she is going to marry Darcy and rise above her roots. She can be very agreeable about most other things. She does like to have her way and can cause a scene if she does not get it, but she is among the most accomplished ladies as you will find.” He placed his glass on the table and, leaning forward, put up a finger to punctuate his point. “And you must remember that she has been training herself to be the mistress of Pemberley, which is no small estate. I do not know your estate, but I dare say she could have it ticking along like a newly wound clock.”
“But a bit of a harridan?”
“Yes,” said Darcy.
“Needs redirecting?”
Darcy nodded. “Please, I beg you.”
Sir Matthew chuckled. “Dead set against her as a wife, are you?”
“Yes.”
“He has his eye on a pretty little thing from Hertfordshire.” Hurst took another drink of his port. “She is much better suited to Darcy than Caroline.” He shrugged. “I am not always sleeping,” he said with a wink. “Now, shall we play a game first or get straight to it?”
“I am not much of a card player,” Sir Matthew admitted.
