The two men excused themselves and walked to the study. Once inside they reviewed the vowels. As Darcy had estimated, the amount was far closer to four than three thousand pounds, which would definitely consign Wickham to Marshalsea for the rest of his miserable life, the waste of which Darcy now firmly knew was Wickham’s choice alone.
The proof was locked in the very strong safe hidden behind a portrait of the Bennets from some two years ago when Sir Thomas Lawrence had been commissioned to paint the family as a whole, as well as one of each individual. The individual portraits all hung in the gallery on the second floor, along with portraits of Bennet’s ancestors with a large and valuable collection of art.
“We will spring the trap tomorrow. There is no need to wait for Reggie and Andrew to return,” stated Bennet. “Before they departed for Town, we discussed it and Reggie agreed if the proof arrived, we would proceed, regardless of whether or not they were present as the sooner we rid Meryton of the scourge, the better for all.” Bennet nodded at Darcy’s relief. “And honestly, I do not think we will be able to restrain Richard again should the blackguard come near Mary.”
Bennet chuckled, appreciative of the love for his daughter, but was more interested in making sure that Richard was not tried for murder so he could, in fact, make it to the altar. He was far more scared of Mary’s wrath should he not be able to than he was of Richard’s anger.
Darcy nodded his head in full agreement. He considered he should feel bad for Wickham; after all, he was his father’s godson. But at this point, he could not, and his conscience was clear.
No matter who he blamed, Wickham, like Caroline Bingley, was the author of his story all the way to the ending. All the decisions had been his own, so it was just and correct he alone should suffer the consequences.
Darcy knew he had done everything in his power to help Wickham in the past, and rather than learn, the more he was helped the more George Wickham expected it was his due. Fitzwilliam Darcy would not repeat that mistake of enabling him again. Ever.
Chapter 14
The rest of the day passed very pleasantly for all, and especially for one particular ensign in the Derbyshire Militia as he sat and dreamed about the ways he would soon spend his fortune.
He was planning the ways he would either have the Bennet chits falling for his charms, or if that failed, he would do as he had done in the past and force himself on them. In a way it excited him more when he forced them to give into the inevitable, it was more thrilling for him, a sweeter victory, in fact. The rush he felt when he exercised his power over his unwilling victims was one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs to the wastrel.
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The next morning, a large Bennet coach arrived in Meryton at about the same time as the previous day, and the three Bennet daughters alighted. As expected, two footmen were on the rear platform, just as had been the case when Wickham first saw them the day before.
Wickham, already anticipating the pleasure he would have, watched as the three entered the millinery shop accompanied by a large footman, while the other man, equally as large, stayed with the conveyance.
After a while, they exited with the footman carrying packages. They then went to the haberdashery, and after a period that seemed longer than what they had taken at the millinery’s they exited with more packages loaded onto the thick arms of the footman.
Wickham was starting to despair that with the two ape-sized footmen close by that he would never be able to approach his intended victims when he heard one of the sisters tell the enormous footman he should take the carriage and the packages home as they had decided a walk was in order.
While Wickham could not believe his luck, he also could not help but think that they were perfectly rich, butstupid girls. Wickham salivated because this was his favourite combination. ‘They are going to make it almost too easy for me,’ he smirked.
This was what he was waiting for, exactly what he hoped for; and the stupid chits were going to fall into his plans like kittens desperate for a ball of string. Not only were they headed away from the watchful citizens of Meryton, but they were walking toward the woods with no protection.
It was one of the best things about small towns, people were always less on their guard and did not believe danger was around any corner unlike those in London who knew it could be waiting around every one of them.
Wickham followed the girls at a discreet distance, or what he considered discreet anyway. The three Bennet ladies headed out of town in the direction that he now knew Longbourn lay, and he heard one say that they should pick some wildflowers to take home with them.
Hearing this suggestion, Wickham almost exclaimed his added approval, watching the three girls leave the road and head to a stand of trees. Wickham could not believe they were going to put themselves in a position to be completely out of sight and in his power, and now very soon he would have his chance. He increased his pace and followed the sisters into the tree line.
He saw that the three were seemingly oblivious to all else as they were bent or crouched picking the wildflowers that grew between the grass growing around the strand of trees. Feeling very confident, he acted as if it was a moment of happenstance and stopped before them.
“Well, hello and good day to you. I have inquired into the stunning examples of beauty that graced the streets of Meryton yesterday and know you are three of the Misses Bennet. I have waited a long time to meet lovely ladies such as yourself, such beauty, and such magnificent fortunes.” He bowed with a flourish.
The three giggled but still had stayed turned away from him so he started to walk toward them, expecting they were desiring him to be closer. “I am going to take so much pleasure taking all three of you here this afternoon. It was very silly of you to send your footmen away. Now, tell me, are you all still maidens, or would one of you prefer to be first? Who shall I choose? Eni-mini-miney-moe...” There was no need to bother with false charm, he could take what he wanted, and no one would hear them even were they to scream.
It was to his great shock that when he asked who wanted to be his first pleasure the girls took off into the trees. He started to run toward the point where he had seen them disappear, but instead was soon in a clearing with no Bennet girl in sight.
Wickham frowned and scratched his head, wondering where they had disappeared to, and sure he would make his irritation known to them when he claimed his prizes. As he was looking around for his prey, he heard a voice that sent a chill down his spine and made his knees go weak.
“Hello, George, I have been waiting to have some time with you,” Richard Fitzwilliam spoke quietly but clearly, and Wickham felt the tip of a sword prick the back of his neck.
“Richard, not so fast. You cannot have all the fun!” Fitzwilliam Darcy said as he approached from the front and he raised a sword, the tip of which was pressed against Wickham’s throat, and while he knew it was sinful, the look of terror pleased him more than a little as he knew his sister would have been terrified, and in his power, had Wickham had his way.
Wickham soiled his pants for the second time that week and heard laughter now from all sides. As he surveyed the scene around him, as much as he could with the swords held by the cousins, he saw Colonel Forster, Lieutenant Denny, and Captains Carter and Saunderson, an older man flanked by two young lads who were already the man’s height or taller, and a number of very large footmen on all sides so even of his legs were able to work, he had nowhere to run to.
All Wickham could say was, “How?”
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