“The salient point,” interrupted Elizabeth when Lydia appeared poised to retort, “was that we all can claim the distinction of serving as prey to Mr. Wickham’s lies. If you will recall, he told me pretty tales of Mr. Darcy, and I believed them without question.”
“Is that so?” asked Anne, casting an interested look on Elizabeth. “I do not believe you told me of this, Elizabeth.”
“It does not signify, Anne,” replied Elizabeth. “There is little enough reason to argue between ourselves, for there is some error to be attributed to us all. Only Jane remained unaffected by his gentlemanly manners, for she advised me in November to take care in bestowing my trust.”
“I believe I was as compelled by his pretty manners as youwere, Lizzy,” said Jane quietly.
“We all were.”
They turned as one to see Mr. Bennet watching them, his wife nearby, fluttering her handkerchief in some distress. Depending on how long she had watched them, she might have heard Lydia’s accusations, though Elizabeth was unaccustomed to her mother maintaining the control to remain silent that long.
“Lizzy is correct,” continued Mr. Bennet. “Mr. Wickham’s pretty manners deluded usallto some extent. There is no reason to throw a shade at anyone else when we were all taken in.”
The significant look Mr. Bennet shot at Lydia suggested that he, at least, had heard something of the conversation and did not appreciate it. In true Lydia fashion, she shrugged and brushed it off with little further thought. Thereafter the girl was more pleasant, which is all Elizabeth wanted, so she allowed the matter to rest.
Chapter XIV
“A
re you out of your senses, man?”
The retort was louder than Wickham liked, and he glanced nervously about, hoping no one had overheard. Seeing no one coming to investigate the table he and Denny occupied at the inn in Meryton, he turned his attention back to his former colleague.
“We were not precisely well acquainted before, Wickham,” said Denny, his voice softer, but abraded with emotion, accompanied by rough hand gestures emphasizing his point. “But I had not thought you were witless. What do you suppose Colonel Forster would say if several of his officers were involved in the assault of a local estate, all so that you may make off with a woman with whom you wish to elope?”
“That is not what I was suggesting, Denny,” said Wickham, unable to keep the defensive note out of his voice.
“Then I should very much like to knowwhatexactly you were suggesting.” Denny was nearly frothing at the mouth in his displeasure, informing Wickham he had miscalculated badly. “For by my recollection, you proposed to scale the walls of the estate and murder everyone in residence.”
“You are exaggerating—”
“I bloody well know I am exaggerating!” growled Denny. “That does not change the fact that yourplanis ill-conceived and is bound to redound on those foolish enough to partake in it, while you make your escape to the north with the prize. I will not be a party to such depravity, and no one else will accept your assurances either.”
Wickham could not quite summon a response. Denny had always been a congenial, boyish sort, one with whom a mancould laugh and jest, but not one who engaged in deep thought. In short, he was the sort that Wickham had always had great success in doing as he wished, inducing them to believe anything he told them and casting them aside when he finished with them. Wickham did not believe the militia had made Denny into this man, for the officers in the regiment were as a group about as soft as pudding.
“If you recall,” said Wickham, feigning injured feelings, “I merely asked for your backing to retrieve a woman from an estate where she is being unjustly held. Miss de Bourgh loves me—she has given her assurance. These people are in league withDarcy, for he wishes for nothing more than to claim her wealth. No doubt he means to pay them off.”
“You truly are something, Wickham,” said Denny, shaking his head. “I am not completely ignorant of society. My father maintains a presence in town, so even I heard the rumors of Mr. Darcy’s engagement with Miss de Bourgh. He might have had her at any time of his choosing. This business of your grievances against him is suspect, for there are laws to ensure the execution of wills as written.”
“You suppose I can fight against a wealthy man?” demanded Wickham. “Darcy not only has his untold wealth, but the backing of his titled uncle. They would crush me if I presumed to challenge them in court.”
“All of this presupposes that Mr. Darcy is a scoundrel,” said Denny. “The man never had so much as a cross word to say to me, despite your attempts to blacken his name. I am ashamed that I treated him with as much disrespect as I did, for I now wonderwhowas to blame in this business between you.
“No, Wickham,” snarled Denny when Wickham made to speak again. “Let me make the situation clear so you do not dig your own grave. Most of the men know nothing of Mr. Darcy and only a little more about Mr. Bennet. Theydoknow the Bennet sisters.Those girls are popular among the men, for they are pretty, kind, lively, and engaging.
“You, on the other hand, had a poor reputation among the men before you left, and it has only grown worse since you departed. Not only do you owe markers to several who would love nothing more than to get their hands on you, but rumors of your exploits with the ladies and certain debts you left with the merchants are whispered in town. You are fortunate Miss King distracted you from making things worse for yourself, or they might even now be plucking feathers and boiling tar.”
Little though Wickham wished to acknowledge it, Denny was telling the truth. The only reason he could meet with the other man in the tavern at all was that he had rarely frequented it. He had needed to keep his wits about him during his stay in Meryton, and excessive drink served only to dull his instincts. Since coming to Meryton, even when he had searched for Miss de Bourgh, he had taken care to avoid drawing the attention of his fellows to the extent possible.
“It seems you finally understand your predicament,” said Denny, fixing him with a pitiless stare. “Good. You may yet keep your head. If I were you, Wickham, I would run away from here as fast as my feet could carry me. There is little chance of having your way with Miss de Bourgh now, and I suspect her family is on your trail as it is. No one will help you and one word from me will see half the men hunting you down like a dog.
“I shall say nothing in deference to our former friendship. If you sayanythingagain about this mad design of yours or remain in town tomorrow, I will not guarantee your continued freedom. Leave Meryton at once.”
With those last ominous words, Denny rose from his chair, cast a few coins at the proprietor, and departed from the inn without a backward glance. Wickham, noting the innkeeper watching him with an unfriendly eye, rose and left the buildingat once—he had not even had the money for a drink, and Denny had not offered him one. He was destitute, with not even a farthing to his name.
Still trying to remain as inconspicuous as he could, Wickham sauntered down the street, knowing the best way to avoid attention was to act like he belonged there. The tavern was on the northern edge of town, and as Wickham was not quite ready to concede defeat, he made his way south. Soon he reached an alley up the street from where the driver of his hired carriage had stopped when he still had Anne de Bourgh in his custody and ducked inside. Wickham had a score to settle with the driver too, who had abandoned him, spouting some nonsense about how he did not wish to be involved with Wickham’s intrigues. Had he known it was the exact location where Elizabeth Bennet had watched him while escaping with Miss de Bourgh, it is doubtful he would have appreciated the irony.
It had all been within his grasp! Everything he had ever wanted, the wealth to live his life as he wished, the funds to gamble all day and night and never exhaust them, the means to spit in Darcy’s eye and laugh at his impotent rage had all been there for the taking. To be cheated by Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s cheap morality was more than Wickham could endure.
