“Mrs. Younge,” said Fitzwilliam, “it seems we are destined to meet in this manner, though I would not choose it.”
The woman did not comment, clinging to her claims of innocence.
“Let us revisit this business of your forged letters of recommendation and the plot in which you took part against my cousin.”
“There was no plot,” said the woman, though the rehearsed nature of her response was dulled by constant repetition. “I told you what I know. You are mistaken about me.”
“I have had just about as much of this as I can endure,” snapped Fitzwilliam’s father, at the end of his patience. “You had best listen to my son, Mrs. Younge, for your future—if you have one—will depend on your answers.”
The earl nodded to Fitzwilliam, and he proceeded with their plan. “Tell me, Mrs. Younge, does the name George Wickham mean anything to you?”
Mrs. Younge was cool—Fitzwilliam could confess that, though he thought he caught a hint of understanding in her mien. Even more impressive, in a roundabout sort of way, was her effort to cover her reaction by misleading them.
“Was he not that man associated with Mr. Darcy? As I recall, he visited Pemberley after the master’s passing.”
“He did,” agreed Fitzwilliam pleasantly. “Tell me what you know of him?”
“Just what I observed on that occasion and a few comments that Mr. Darcy made.”
“Then why do I have in my possession certain letters from him addressed to you?”
This time, there was a hint of shock in her eyes when Fitzwilliam produced the papers from his pocket. Whether she was so convinced of her cleverness or had thought they would not discover them after so long, he could not say, but the force of her confidence waned at the sight of them.
“Will you not ask where I found these?” Fitzwilliam sneered at the woman, assured she understood his contempt. “Shall you not exclaim at the sight of them, protest that you know nothing of the contents?”
The woman did not respond, remaining tight-lipped. Fitzwilliam smiled and set the papers down on the table before her.
“These contain everything we need to condemn you for conspiracy against the granddaughter of an earl, attempted kidnapping, extortion, and everything else I can think of. Then again, I suppose you already know that.”
Fitzwilliam sat across from her, staring into her eyes, though she again looked away, far more expeditiously than she had before.
“So there is no misunderstanding, we now know of the plot you hatched with George Wickham, how you intended to getGeorgiana alone in Ramsgate so that he could compromise her and force her to marry him, how you planned to leave the country together when you laid hands on Georgiana’s dowry. What these letters do not tell us is whether you were complicit in the plot to murder my cousin.”
Mrs. Younge regarded him, searching for what Fitzwilliam did not know. If the woman did not now understand the untenable nature of her situation, she was much less intelligent than he thought. At that moment, his father lost patience with the farce.
“Against the possibility you do not understand the situation,” said he, drawing her eyes to him, “I will explain it to you. With these letters, I have all the legal evidence to accuse you of murder, a trial which can only end with you swinging from the end of a noose. My nephew was murdered by his childhood friend, and these letters prove you plotted with him to gain Georgiana’s dowry. While there are no letters old enough to betray what role you had in Darcy’s murder, the connection is there.”
“I suspect,” interjected Fitzwilliam, “that if we conducted a similar search of your quarters at Pemberley, we would find those letters.” Fitzwilliam offered her a thin smile. “You should have burned them, Mrs. Younge.”
The earl gave him a curt nod before turning back to the woman. “Your only hope now is to tell us the truth. If you mean to declaim all notion of Wickham’s intention to kill my nephew, you had best tell us, and you had best be convincing, for I am losing patience. I can condemn you to the gallows at any moment I choose, especially as we do not need you any longer to unmask your confederate. If you convince me, Imaycommute your sentence to life in the penal colony.”
Mrs. Younge’s gaze darted between them, a furious attempt to find a way out of the predicament in which she now foundherself. For a moment, Fitzwilliam thought she would remain obstinate, though all such resolve must now be in vain. A moment later, her shoulders slumped in defeat, and for the first time in their acquaintance, Fitzwilliam regarded her without the conceit or the towering sense of self-assurance. For the first time, she was a woman, one who knew she was caught and had no hope of escape, other than to tell the truth.
The ensuing conversation was illuminating in some respects, and much as he had expected in others. But they now had the truth.
Chapter XXXVIII
“What I cannot make out is how Darcy was deceived into hiring the woman.” Lord Matlock shook his head. “He was a more conscientious man than to hire her without investigating her references.”
“That is a question I cannot answer,” said Fitzwilliam with a shake of his head. “All Darcy told me was that she had come highly recommended.”
Lord Matlock nodded but appeared distracted, the rocking of the carriage distracting him. As his father promised, he had ordered the carriage upon their arrival at the house and set off once their effects were prepared. It was the second day of travel, having stopped late into the evening, hoping to make Pemberley by the evening of the third day. Anne and Fitzwilliam’s mother had informed them they would travel after them at their usual pace, leaving the following morning and not arriving until the day after Fitzwilliam and his father were to arrive. Questions hovered in both their minds, and if they now had a clearer picture of the past months with Mrs. Younge’s confession, there were many yet remaining, including the most pressing—what was Wickham’s plan now that his accomplice was exposed?
“This business involving Wickham is most surprising. Though I knew he was not a good man, I had not thought he was this depraved.”
Fitzwilliam considered this comment, recalling the interactions he had with Wickham as a child, and even as they had grown older. As Darcy was two years youngerthan Fitzwilliam and Wickham a year younger than Darcy, Fitzwilliam had not had as much to do with the libertine as a boy, and less the older he had grown. On several occasions, Fitzwilliam had stayed at Pemberley, and while he had some association with George Wickham, it had not been enough to take his measure beyond a vague dislike he had harbored for Wickham from his earliest memories.
The distaste for Wickham had grown more pronounced as Fitzwilliam had become a young man, and his observation of Wickham the year they had overlapped in university had told him much more. With this in mind, he had approached Darcy and received the full story of Wickham’s depravity. Though Darcy had dissociated himself from Wickham altogether, his father had enjoyed Wickham’s company, leaving him one thousand pounds as a bequest and a recommendation to prefer him to the living of Kympton. As Fitzwilliam was Darcy’s companion and had joint guardianship of Georgiana, he was familiar with the dealings between them and knew of Darcy’s payment to Wickham to resign all claim to the living. That had not stopped him from approaching Darcy when the living fell open because of the death of the incumbent, but by that time, Fitzwilliam had known Wickham’s sense of shame was rudimentary at best.
