But she could hardly speak of such things before her father, who was already answering with his own approbation. “Very good, sir. I am glad to hear that you truly appreciate my daughter, Mr Darcy, for we have not yet arranged for you to be free of her. Let us consider a different case. We have established that Mr Wickham does not seem to benefit from your marrying my Lizzy. What, then, if you didnotmarry her? What might have happened then?”
“I would have been ruined, of course,” Elizabeth began. “If Mr Wickham wanted revenge against me, or against our family, it might have done very well, for all my sisters would have shared in the disgrace. Our lives would have been pitiable indeed.”
Mr Darcy shook his head. “That cannot be it. If Wickham would not take revenge against me unless it benefited him, then surely not against you.”
“Yes, I agree,” Elizabeth said. “I do not think he bears me any ill-will. I might rather describe it as an unwanted degree of warmth, and one quite free from real caring or respect.”
Suddenly, Mr Darcy was looking at her intently. “Perhaps that is it.”
“You will have to elaborate, Mr Darcy,” Mr Bennet said dryly.
“Wickham desires Miss Elizabeth — please forgive the coarseness of the sentiment, I feel it is inherent to an accurate description — though without the real care and consideration that would allow us to refer to it as friendship, let alone love. What, then, if I had seemed to compromise Miss Elizabeth, and had not offered for her? I would have suffered condemnation from all the most worthy of my connections. While it would have been nothing to what Miss Elizabeth and your family would have suffered, I assure you I would have found it most painful. There is a dreadful similarity — excuse me.”
Mr Darcy fell silent, and Elizabeth knew he must be thinking of his sister, and what Mr Wickham had attempted to do to her. As her father was looking at Mr Darcy with rather too much perception, Elizabeth quickly jumped in.
“Father, I believe Mr Darcy has got wind of something. Let us imagine that he and I did not become engaged after the Netherfield ball. I would have been disgraced, and we would have all been desperate. What if Mr Wickham came to you then and offered to marry me, publicly stating his confidence in my virtue? It seems likely that you would have agreed, even if he demanded a sum far beyond my dowry to do it.”
“I would have,” Mr Bennet said grimly. “I would have given all I had, even mortgaged Longbourn to the hilt to do it, if I might have thereby saved my daughters.”
A heavy silence fell over the room, the result of three people each lost in their own unpleasant thoughts. At last, Mr Darcy spoke. “It is only too plausible. The scheme exactly fits with what I know of Mr Wickham. A reliance on his own charm — a total disregard for the wishes of others, and the consequences that might fall on an innocent — a chance of profit, without even the clarity and certainty any rational man would demand in a simple matter of business — all of it is exactly like the man I have been grieved to know.”
“Then I think we may well have our explanation, but we do not have proof,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Without it, we are no more forwarder than ever.”
“Perhaps we might get some,” Mr Bennet mused. “Now, I have hardly spoken with Mr Wickham, but the few instances of our being in company together, coupled with what you both have told me, have given me the impression that he is a veritable peacock of a man, ready to believe himself deserving of everything and anything and the superior of all he meets.”
“It is no bad description, sir,” Mr Darcy said dryly.
“Would he be ready, then, to think that his plan might still succeed? If I were to ask him to visit him, perhaps under the pretence of being concerned about Mr Darcy’s character, might I convince him to incriminate himself?”
“I do not think it impossible,” Mr Darcy said cautiously. “Hatred of myself might render Wickham less cautious, and more likely to misstep. But it could be tricky, sir, very tricky indeed. And would it truly gain us what we seek? Even if you could lead Wickham into confessing, would it not simply be his word against your own? The attempt to correct the record might cause a greater scandal than letting it stand.”
“I do not mean to have Wickham tried in the court of public opinion, but in a court of law,” Mr Bennet declared. “My good friend Constable Rathers will help us with that. You see the closet doors just there?”
Mr Darcy nodded, looking rather confused, but Elizabeth exclaimed, “Father! You mean to have Constable Rathers overhear his confession?”
“I do, indeed. Would that not solve everything? With an impartial witness, the purity of your reputation would be secured. And I rather suspect that when Wickham is in the hands of the law, he will not soon leave them again.”
“To deceive a man into thinking he is speaking privately is not honourable,” Mr Darcy began, “but if Wickham is guilty, it is a far greater sin. If you believe you can succeed, Mr Bennet, I think the plan is a good one.”
“I shall try,” Mr Bennet said. “I daresay I do not wish my favourite daughter compelled to marry any more than you wish to be forced to marry her, sir.”
Elizabeth had rarely liked her father’s wit less, but she could hardly protest. Mr Darcy, however, shook his head. “Hardly forced, sir. I could not be forced into such a thing, when I did not feel it to be right. And I am sure Miss Elizabeth and I shall do will together, if we do wed. I will feel no regrets.”
Mr Bennet nodded approvingly. Elizabeth only wished she could believe him as sincere as her father seemed to, butthatwas too much to hope. Mr Darcy had already shown himself to be generosity itself. He would wish to spare her feelings, to give her hope, if he could.
“Well, Mr Darcy, perhaps you will wish to overhear our conversation as well. If all else fails, you may reveal yourself. The shock might force Wickham into confessing.”
“I shall, sir, thank you.”
“And I as well,” Elizabeth said suddenly. She had not known that she would speak until she did, but having expressed the intent, she had no doubt of it being correct. She, who was more concerned in what passed than anyone, could not be left out of it. “I must hear the truth of it from his own lips.”
Her father was already shaking his head. “I do not think it wise, Lizzy. Such a scheme is no place for a lady.”
“I do not think it would place my reputation at risk,” Elizabeth argued. “Not only a few paces away from you, my dear father, and with my fiancé by my side. Surely there is no risk there that I do not already undergo.”
“No, Lizzy, I suppose you are right, but even so, I cannot approve it. You will do very well to stay in your room. I assure you we will tell you all the next day.”
“The next day! Really, Father —”
