That was a rather difficult question. “I am as well as can be expected under the circumstances,” Elizabeth said at last. “I hardly know what to say. I had looked forward to discovering the truth with great eagerness, but now…”
She placed her hand in his, and he brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles ever so gently. “I will be right here, Miss Elizabeth,” he whispered. She could hardly breathe. “Mr Wickham will not be allowed to hurt you any further.”
She nodded, and he released her hand. Elizabeth chided herself for being so absurd as to mourn its loss, but the separation was only momentary. Mr Darcy offered her his arm, and they joined her father and the constable to go over the plan one last time before Mr Wickham arrived. When all was settled, they sat down in her father’s comfortable and well-used chairs to wait.
Elizabeth tried not to let her nervousness show as they waited for Mr Wickham. The first stage of the plan had succeeded even beyond their hopes. When her father had invited Mr Wickham to come to Longbourn under the ruse of asking after Mr Darcy’s character, he had jumped at the chance. No doubt he was eager to sully Mr Darcy’s reputation with half-truths and outright lies.
“Are you well?” Mr Darcy leaned over and whispered to her as her father spoke with Constable Rathers. As Mr Bennet had expected, the constable had quickly agreed to help them with their plan. He would make a fine notable witness, should Mr Wickham confess to being the one who had planned and executed the compromise that had brought her and Mr Darcy together.
Elizabeth turned to Mr Darcy. The concern etched on his face touched her deeply. “You need not stay if you are unwell,” he added. “I am sure that Constable Rathers and I can handle things from here.”
She shook her head. She was not about to slink off and hide in her bedchamber while Mr Darcy and Constable Rathers had all the excitement. Besides, she wanted to hear for herself whether Mr Wickham had been the instigator of all their troubles. “No, Mr Darcy, but I thank you. I am quite well. Only I am a little jittery with all the waiting.”
Even though the first suspicion of Mr Wickham had been hers, Elizabeth could hardly believe that he could be responsible for so ugly a plot. He had acted as her friend since coming to Meryton. To suspect that he had used her to further his own ends made her sick to her stomach. She was ashamed of herself. If Mr Darcy had not come to the library the night of the Netherfield Ball, she might have fallen more deeply under Mr Wickham’s spell and been lost forever, just as Georgiana had almost succumbed.
“I am impressed by your fortitude in all of this, Miss Elizabeth. Hopefully, if all goes as planned this evening, our reputations will be restored.” Mr Darcy gave her a strange look. Was that not a flash of pain in his eyes? But why? “You will be free.”
Elizabeth nodded. She had no time to give any other answer, for the footman knocked on the library door and alerted them that Mr Wickham had been seen coming up the lane.
“Positions,” her father whispered. Immediately, Elizabeth, Mr Darcy, and Constable Rathers headed for the closet on the other end of the library. It was a tight squeeze, but they would have the advantage of being close enough to hear all that was said. Having left the doors open a crack, it was even possible to see part of the room. With luck, Mr Wickham would be none the wiser that three witnesses were concealed behind it, ready to hear the truth of what had happened.
They concealed themselves just in time. A moment later, another knock sounded on the door and Mr Wickham was announced. Elizabeth watched from the darkness, her shoulder just brushing Mr Darcy’s. She craned her neck to the left and saw Mr Wickham enter the room, his step confident and graceful. Elizabeth stifled a snort. The man could not have looked more arrogant if he had tried. What nerve! She took a deep breath to calm her anger. With a little luck, all would be put right this night. And if he would not confess, then she would be no worse off than she was already.
But there was no more time for wool-gathering. Her father was speaking to Mr Wickham.
“Mr Wickham, thank you for coming to see me on such short notice. I apologise for the lateness of the hour, but I am sure you can see that discretion is of the utmost importance.” Mr Bennet played his role perfectly, setting Mr Wickham at ease. Elizabeth watched in no little surprise. Her father had no patience for diplomacy, but it seemed that his quick wit and sense of humour made him admirably suited to intrigue.
“I am honoured that you asked me to come, Mr Bennet. Indeed, you are wise. A father ought to find out as much as he can about the character of the man his daughter is going to marry.” Mr Wickham spoke with a solemnity bordering on the sanctimonious. No doubt it would give him great pleasure to slander Mr Darcy to her father. She clenched her hands, wanting nothing more than to strike out at Mr Wickham — the snake!
Mr Bennet nodded solemnly. “The situation has been deeply distressing. I am forced to be grateful that Mr Darcy did the right thing and offered for my daughter. There is little I can do to stop the marriage from going forward. It would ruin poor Elizabeth. After such a scandal, she must marry, and quickly.”
“Quite, sir,” Mr Wickham said with a serious nod, sitting down across from Mr Bennet. Elizabeth could not like the gleam in his eyes.
Mr Bennet cleared his throat. “But I must confess, and I ask you to keep this to yourself, that I am uneasy. I find myself uncertain of Mr Darcy’s character. If he is truly unworthy, I would move heaven and earth to save my daughter. You may be in a position to give me very important information, Mr Wickham. Can I trust Mr Darcy with my daughter’s well-being, with her happiness?”
Mr Wickham was a schemer indeed, Elizabeth thought indignantly. He even made a decent pretence of thinking over what Mr Bennet had said, stroking his chin as though deciding how much he ought to say. Her father was playing the game exactly right. He was gaining Mr Wickham’s confidence, convincing him to put down his guard. Now, if only Mr Wickham would take the bait.
Mr Wickham sat down across from her father. “Oh, my dear sir, I only wish you could. How it pains me to speak ill of anyone bearing the name of Darcy! But I cannot do otherwise. My respect for yourself, and my concern, my — admiration — for your daughter all make it an imperative. I should be gravely afraid for any woman in the power of Mr Darcy. To support his pride or even his convenience, he could be guilty of terrible cruelty.” Mr Wickham leaned back, making himself comfortable. “You are right to be concerned, my dear sir.”
“I thank you for your honesty, sir,” Mr Bennet said. Elizabeth had no difficulty in recognising the slight tremor in her father’s voice as being borne of anger, but Mr Wickham likely thought it only concern. He went on without delay. “But what painful honesty is this! I would do anything to save my daughter, and yet I fear there is nothing I can do. Even if he is such a man, they must marry. It would be the ruination not only of Elizabeth, but of all my daughters if she does not marry.”
Mr Bennet stopped there. With luck, Mr Wickham would take his silence for despair, and not recognise it for what it was — baiting the hook.
The men were silent for a long moment, drawing out the tension until Elizabeth half-thought she would scream.
Then a small smile flitted across Mr Wickham’s face, almost too quickly to be seen, before being replaced by a carefully grave expression. “My dear Mr Bennet, I cannot bear this for so fine a family, so admirable a lady as Miss Elizabeth. Is there not some other way?”
Mr Bennet shook his head. “I can think of none.”
“And yet — yes — I believe I have an idea. Indeed, this might solve everything. What ifIwere to marry Miss Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth met Mr Darcy’s eyes. His expression of grim satisfaction exactly mirrored her own feelings. Like a greedy trout, Mr Wickham was taking the bait.
Mr Bennet was too skilled an angler to attempt reeling him in all at once. “You, sir? No, it cannot be. After such a scandal, you would forever be distrusting her. It would be no less a misery than marriage to Mr Darcy. Why, I would spend every farthing in my possession to secure a worthy husband for my Lizzy, I would even mortgage Longbourn itself, but I do not see that it is possible for you to be tolerably happy with her.”
“No, sir, I assure you,” Mr Wickham said eagerly. “I have never believed that Miss Elizabeth was a willing party to this compromise. There is some mistake, I am sure.”
“That is very generous of you, Mr Wickham,” her father said gravely, “but it cannot be so. How could it be that you, alone of all our acquaintances, would so readily believe in her honour? Why, my daughter went to the library, after all. It cannot be justified.”
