Then she smiled again, though it was a thin, tremulous gesture. “Do not concern yourself for me, Anthony. I shall be well. Recovering from Jamie’s death has not been easy, but aside from this shock, I have done well, I think.”
Fitzwilliam raised her hand to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. “You have been nothing less than a pillar of strength, my dear. I have no concerns about your wellbeing.”
“What was Mr. Wickham’s game?” demanded Lydia. “Why would he murder Mr. Darcy?”
“Because, in doing so, he thought he would gain Pemberley,” said Georgiana.
Again, Georgiana surprised Darcy with her insight; Fitzwilliam was the same, if the long look he directed at her was any sign.
“You are correct, of course. The entail on Pemberley was not well known, and Wickham had never heard of it, despite his father’s position of influence on the estate. By removing my cousin, he thought he could swoop in and marry Georgiana, claiming the estate and everything my cousin owned. Then he would have a nearly inexhaustible source of income to fuel his habits.”
“He was a fool,” growled Lord Matlock. “Men like George Wickham destroy even the wealthiest and most prosperous estates. The Darcy family possesses extensive wealth, but even Pemberley would have shown the cracks in time.”
Fitzwilliam nodded to his father. “His confederate, of course, was Mrs. Younge.”
“That is no longer a surprise,” said Georgiana.
“No, I suppose it is not.” Fitzwilliam turned a curious look on her. “Do you know anything about her hiring? Your brother was too careful to hire a woman without proper vetting.”
“Nothing of substance,” said Georgiana, shaking her head. “Brother rarely included me in any of his business dealings.”
“That is unimportant now, I suppose,” said Fitzwilliam. “The salient point is that Mrs. Younge had a previous acquaintance with Wickham, one of more substance than I could pull from her in my haste. She pursued the position at his instigation and then served as his accomplice and spy in the Darcy household.
“At first, her activities comprised intelligence gathering, but soon after, it turned to plotting. At first, Wickham plannedto marry Georgiana, but then he conceived a grander plan—that of gaining Pemberley itself. Of course, he knew nothing of Pemberley’s status. Mrs. Younge discovered it when I arrived earlier than they planned and summoned Darcy. Their plans in ruins, they returned to the scheme to marry Georgiana, knowing nothing of the entail’s end.”
“That was the reason for her insistence on the Ramsgate holiday,” said the earl, terseness displaying his opinion of the plotting pair. “There, they would have time to persuade Georgiana, and if that did not work, take more direct action. Mrs. Younge could control any correspondence, leaving Georgiana unprotected.”
“Mrs. Younge was convinced the plot would fail by the time she pushed the Ramsgate scheme to you at Netherfield,” said Fitzwilliam. “When she lost hope, Mrs. Younge considered leaving her position, but Wickham threatened to reveal her complicity if she did.”
“Which no doubt led to her surly attitude about the whole thing.”
Fitzwilliam nodded his agreement. “You noted she was unwilling when she pushed it for the last time in London, but Wickham insisted on it. That, of course, led to her downfall—she was right to apprehend that we would begin investigating her if she pushed too hard, but Wickham was impatient.”
“Would you have allowed it?” asked Mr. Bennet, his concentration removing any impression of the languid gentleman he sometimes portrayed. “If Wickham married Georgiana, would you have let him take control of the estate?”
“It is impossible to know what Iwould havedone,” replied the earl after considering the question for a moment. “The law would have been on his side, but I am influential, and even the crown would not have wanted such a prestigious estate as Pemberley ruined by a man who was not even of gentle stock.”
“How did you discover his guilt?” asked Mrs. Bennet.
Darcy took the lead in telling this tale, accounting for the doubts that had led to suspicion, and the saddle Jameson Darcy had used that fateful day. Then Fitzwilliam took up the tale to inform the company of his journey, the confrontation with Mrs. Younge, her confession, and their hasty journey back to Pemberley.
“Sunset comes late in the summer,” said Fitzwilliam, with a nod at Darcy. “When it got dark, we were close enough to press on and arrive tonight. Little did I know we would come across Wickham trying to take Mrs. Darcy.”
Fitzwilliam’s comment returned an important point to Darcy’s mind. “Wickham entered our bedchamber through some passage in the walls. I will need to task the butler with mapping them so we can take measures to deny entry.”
“I spoke with Gates on the way into the room,” rumbled the earl. “Wickham had no chance to close the passage from the outside, and he has men in the passage mapping it out.”
Darcy nodded his thanks. “Then I will have him search for any others.”
“That might be the only one,” said Fitzwilliam. “The house is old enough to hide such things, but its path leading straight to the master’s chambers suggests it was built as an escape route.”
“Or to allow silent and unseen entry,” added the earl.
“It may be best to just seal it up and forget about it,” said Darcy. “It is a weakness in the house’s defenses that I do not like.”
Turning to Elizabeth, still nestled close to him, Darcy said: “Did Wickham say anything about the passage after you left with him?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. He focused on his cleverness.”
