Wickham was not sure what was happening, but this was the last reaction he had expected. Did they all know something he did not? He pushed that thought from his mind. As long as he was given access to her dowry he cared not.
“My husband is the true heir to Pemberley, not that rake who masquerades as a gentleman,” Mrs Wickham insisted.
“But Caroline, if Mr Darcy is so, why have you chased him for the last five years?” Mrs Hurst enquired. “I thought you wanted to marry the man; the man who you are now denigrating.”
“I was misled and am now aware of his true character,” Caroline sniffed.
Ignoring the ravings of his younger sister, Bingley turned to look at the man who was now his brother-in-law. “Pray tell, Mr Wickham, how is it my friend will give over all of his possessions and property to you?”
Knowing that he needed to maintain the pretence at least until he had her dowry secured, Wickham affected his sad, put upon look. “It seems, Brother, you have been duped by Fitzwilliam Darcy, like so many before you.” Wickham was positive the weak man before him had no information to refute his tale. Thank goodness, Darcy was not present. “We are half-brothers…” He told a condensed version of the story he had spun for the then Miss Bingley.
Seated behind the door in the reading room, Darcy listened to the fiction Wickham was spewing. He had to fight to keep from laughing at the ridiculous lies. He had heard his former friend tell some big ones before, but none had come close to the web of fiction he was now spinning.
When her husband had completed telling his tale of woe, Mrs Wickham glared at her family with a look of triumph on her countenance.
It had been just as difficult for the three seated in the library listening to the cow excrement spewing from the man’s mouth to refrain from guffawing as it had been for Darcy. In fact, Mrs Hurst could not stop herself from giggling behind her hand.
“These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Bingley. “But any friend of a man as honourable and good as Mr Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of comfort and fellowship necessarily attached to their situation. Only those who have been accepted into his circle of friendship could upon the whole have no cause to repine knowing him.”
“How can you say that after hearing of the way yourfriendmistreated his own brother?” Mrs Wickham bellowed. She had noticed that Mr Darcy was absent, but she had not thought anything of it.
“Do not waste your breath, Dearest,” Wickham said as he patted his wife’s hand. “Unlike you, your family was taken in by his supposed wealth and consequence. If my brother has not already, I am sure he will request a loan from your brother and then never repay it.”
“Why on earth wouldDarcywho has far more wealth than me ever need a loan?” Bingley played along.
Darcy heard the way his friend emphasised his name. It was their pre-arranged signal. The reading room was behind the Wickhams, so when he slowly pulled the door open, they were unaware of his presence. As stealthily as he could, he stepped out of the reading room and stood a few feet behind the couple. Bingley and the Hursts had to fight to school their features.
“Then my brother has very effectively hidden his vice of gambling from you. He has lost much of his wealth at the tables.” Wickham saw the look of horror on his wife’s face. “Enough is entailed that he is not able to…” Wickham stopped speaking when he heard the clapping of hands behind him.
“Bravo, Wicky. I have rarely seen performances on the stage to rival yours here today. It is interesting you describedmeasyouare. And who would be simple enough to believe you, the son of a steward, are the heir to Pemberley?” Darcy drawled as he walked past the couple and seated himself before them. “You are as much related to me as Bingley is, and you know it.”
Wickham had turned white, and his knees felt weak. How was it bloody Darcy was here? Why had the shrew not mentioned his presence to him?
“Husband, tell them it is all lies, you are the true heir to all Darcy properties and the fortune left that this man was not able to gamble away! You are his brother!” Mrs Wickhamimplored.
“Yes, Wicky, please allow us to hear you answer the questions yourwifehas asked of you,” Darcy challenged.
“It is of no consequence; I have proof of our marriage. As you can see,” Wickham withdrew the page from his regimental jacket’s pocket. “We were married in the Meryton church this morning, and we have already consummated the wedding so there will be no annulment. As her husband, I demand her dowry. Also, unless you add ten thousand, Mr Bingley, I cannot guarantee your sister’s treatment.” Feeling pleased with himself, Wickham turned to Darcy. “You will pay me little Georgiana’s dowry, or I will let it be known how you were jilted.”
Mrs Wickham stood rooted to the spot. Had she been played for a fool and married the son of a servant and not the heir to Pemberley and Darcy House. She was trying to process what she had heard. Surely she was too intelligent to be taken in the way it seemed she may have been.
This time, none of those seated restrained their laughter. Bingley wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes. “Hand me the certificate,” Bingley requested once he had brought his mirth under control. Wickham gladly handed it over.
Once he had read the page, Bingley handed it to Darcy.
The latter read it over. “It looks to be genuine, and Wicky knows how easy it would be for us to go speak to Mr Chambers. He would not lie about something so easily verifiable.” Darcy folded the paper and handed it back to Bingley.
“We all agree the marriage occurred this morning, Tuesday the thirtieth day of October, do we not?” Bingley verified.
“Of course, as you see,” Wickham confirmed with some asperity. Why was no one cowed by him? Surely Darcy did not want it to be known he was a jilt? Something was not adding up. At least, Darcy had not attacked him physically.
“And you want your wife’s dowry?” Bingley enquired.
“As it must be, seeing there was no settlement signed before the wedding,” Wickham spat back. This was getting tiresome. “Turn over her twenty thousand pounds, and I will leave your sister in your custody.”
“No thank you,” Bingley replied calmly. Wickham stood with his mouth hanging open and lost some of his colour again.
“To which part?” Wickham almost squeaked.
