“No, not at all, sir. She was sent a note, after all — I cannot say that is any reflection on Miss Elizabeth’s virtue.”
“That is very interesting, Mr Wickham,” Mr Bennet said quietly. “Very interesting indeed, because there is no one in the world who knows that my daughter was lured to the library with a false note beyond those present at the meeting, myself — and the one who sent the note.”
Mr Wickham froze for only a moment before his natural composure reasserted itself. His voice was only a little strained when he spoke. “Ah — it was only a figure of speech, Mr Bennet. I merely assumed that Miss Bennet must have been brought to the library in some way, as she would not have followed Mr Darcy there.”
“Very good, Mr Wickham, but it will not serve,” Mr Bennet said ironically. “I know of your guilt, sir. A groomsman saw you lurking near Netherfield only the next day, likely to remove the trip wire you left behind!”
Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat. What on earth was her father doing? They had no such witness among the servants, or the whole mystery would have been a very different thing. Mr Wickham had only to deny it, and their whole plan would fall like a house of cards.
But Mr Bennet was not allowing Mr Wickham time to recover his composure, or to think of a prudent answer. He went on in a low voice that shook with fury. “Confess, sir! You are the architect behind all this grief, and I shall have the matter out! How can you defend yourself, when young Whittaker saw you slink by that morning!”
“He certainly did not!” Mr Wickham snapped in a fury. “Your man Whittaker is a liar, that much I’ll swear, for I was not such a fool as to return to the library after that night!”
Mr Wickham instantly realised his mistake, but it was too late. All Mr Bennet’s put-on rage had vanished, to be replaced by satisfaction and icy contempt.
“No, Mr Wickham, he did not,” Mr Bennet said softly, “for indeed, thereisno Whittaker at Netherfield Park. I made up the report so that you might condemn yourself out of your own mouth. As you have now done.”
Mr Wickham sneered at him, his cordial mask in tatters. “I will admit you have tricked me, Mr Bennet. I hope it was worth it. You have put me on my guard now, sir, and I assure you that no one will ever believe you in such a case. Mr Darcy has agreed to marry your daughter, sir. You ought to be grateful, for I assure you, I never thought he would. Take that as your victory, and leave me be, for you certainly can do nothing against me.”
“I believe you will find you are mistaken,” Mr Bennet said mildly. “Constable, Mr Darcy, Lizzy, perhaps you might come out now.”
They followed the suggestion with alacrity. Mr Darcy kept himself between Elizabeth and Mr Wickham, mindful even now of his promise to protect her.
With grim satisfaction, Elizabeth thought it was not likely that he would need to act on that promise. Mr Wickham looked as if he might fall over in a dead faint. His mouth worked as he backed away toward the door. “What is this?” he demanded. His path was blocked, for the constable had stepped in front of it to ensure he could not escape. “Turn and face your accusers, sir,” Constable Rathers snarled.
Mr Wickham straightened, lifting his chin in defiance. “I have nothing more to say. You, Mr Bennet, have acted most underhandedly in luring me here tonight. It is most ungentlemanly to ambush me like this!”
“It is most ungentlemanly to ruin my daughter’s reputation without a second thought. You will answer for that, sir. I will see to it you do,” Mr Bennet growled. In all her life, she had never seen her father like this.
Mr Wickham glanced at Elizabeth, then pinned Mr Darcy with an unswerving stare. “I should have known you would stoop to something like this. Tell me, how is dear Georgiana? Still locked away for her little indiscretion?”
No doubt Mr Wickham had meant to draw Mr Darcy into a fight by alluding to the events that had taken place at Ramsgate. He was to be disappointed, for Mr Darcy merely turned to him with a look of profound contempt. “My sister’s well-being is none of your concern.” He turned to the constable. “There is another matter at hand that is much more in need of our attention, is there not?”
Her father stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Yes, there is. Mr Wickham, you are well and truly caught. Now, it would benefit you to tell us why you arranged the compromise between my daughter and Mr Darcy.”
Chapter 23
Wickham sneered, even though he could not help but realise he was caught. Indeed, Darcy knew not how he thought to get himself out of this mess. He would answer to his superiors, and then likely be court-martialled. He would have nothing but a sullied name, and might even serve time in military prison. “Speak, Wickham. Let us have done with it,” Darcy said, barely able to keep his tone even.
“I do not answer to you,” Wickham spat. “But I will tell Mr Bennet. I see no reason to keep you all in the dark. It was a good plan, if not for Darcy’s meddling.”
“Why did you do it?” Mr Bennet asked. This time, Darcy could tell Elizabeth’s father was losing patience. He had handled the trap with such grace and smoothness until the point Wickham had been caught. Now his face was beet red, making him look like a piece of iron laid to the smelting fires, glowing hot under the pressure of the intense heat.
Mr Wickham raised his chin. “I will tell you. But then you must promise to let me go,” he said. “I have done nothing worth incarceration, as you well know.”
The constable stepped forward and placed a warning hand on Wickham’s shoulder. “That remains to be seen.”
Wickham’s features lost a bit of their haughtiness. The constable made him sit back down in the plush chair he had occupied during his conversation with Mr Bennet. “Very well. The idea for the compromise was borne out of my enmity for Darcy and my appreciation for Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Elizabeth’s shock and fury were too great to keep her silence. “Mr Wickham, what on earth can you mean by that? You cannot have any genuine appreciation for me if you have tried to commit such harm against me.”
“Miss Elizabeth, I had a plan,” Mr Wickham said earnestly, giving her his most soulful look. “You and I had such great enjoyment in each other’s society, and yet neither of us had enough money to wed. Everything would have worked out well, if not for Darcy’s interference.”
“It would not have worked out well for me,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Even disgrace would have been better than marriage to a man capable of such a plot.”
In that moment, Darcy was so proud of her, he felt a smile break out on his face despite all the grimness of the scene. Upon hearing her rebuke, Wickham had looked half shocked, half crestfallen. It was like the man to think that he might still charm her, even after everything he had done. Now Wickham knew better, and he did not appear to enjoy the knowledge.
“And why involve Mr Darcy?” Mr Bennet asked.
