The gasp came from Miss Elizabeth—the woman gaped at both Darcy and Wickham, a growing sense of outrage filling her. The murmuring of the officers appeared to affect Wickham, if his grimace was any sign.
“Ask Wickham where that money is now—I expect he will make some excuse, but the truth is that he can offer none that is credible.”
Darcy turned back to the officers. “Once you leave this place, I suggest you keep a close watch on Wickham. He is nothing if not predictable once his true nature is exposed. I have no doubt he will flee at the first hint of trouble. If he owes you markers, you may as well forget about ever collecting, as Wickham never considers himself honor-bound to settle them.”
That got the attention of more than one officer, proving that Wickham had followed his usual pattern. Wickham could bear no more; growling, he turned on his heel and marched from the room. The other officers appeared torn between staying to question Darcy further, but the need to ensure he did not flee prevailed, and they made their goodbyes before hastening from the room. It had not been Darcy’s purpose to expose Wickham, but he could not argue with the result. With any luck, the colonel would investigate, learn something of Wickham’s activities, and Wickham might at last experience the consequences ofhis actions. Regardless, Darcy did not mean to bother himself further with Wickham, so it was of little matter other than the satisfaction Darcy would feel at his downfall.
Chapter VI
The moment the officers departed, the focus turned to the newcomers, as Elizabeth might have expected. Mr. Hurst had been among them of late, and Mr. Darcy was not high in Mrs. Bennet’s esteem, so they mattered little to her. Mr. Bingley, however—a man whose failure to return had long been lamented—was as welcome as anyone who had ever crossed the lintel, and thus was the center of the mistress of Longbourn’s attention.
“Mr. Bingley!” said she, the moment the officers were out of earshot. “How wonderful it is to see you again at Longbourn, sir. Why, it has been far too long since you came—you are a dinner in our debt, if you recall.
“Come and sit next to Jane—does she not look well? Jane has missed you this past month, so I suppose you have much about which to converse.”
Mr. Bingley could only insert a few syllables into Mrs. Bennet’s monologue, though the gentleman was not at all averse to sitting next to Jane. For her part, Jane shot a desperate glance at Elizabeth, but there was nothing she could do to ease her sister’s discomfort, for Mrs. Bennet had the bit in her teeth and would not be denied. She prattled and puttered around the pair, most of what she was saying either nonsensical or unintelligible, and while Mr. Bingley and Jane were aware of her, it did not seem to affect them to any degree. Though their beginning appeared awkward, within a few moments they had started an animated conversation the likes of which Elizabeth had often seen before he left the neighborhood.
Before long, however, Elizabeth noticed the reactions of the three gentlemen in the room who werenotMr. Bingley—and the contrast was rather interesting. First was Mr. Hurst,who Elizabeth supposed must be the author of Mr. Bingley’s unexpected return. His mien as he watched his brother converse with Jane could only be termed sardonic amusement, though the source was uncertain. Mr. Hurst caught her eye as she looked at him, and the gentleman winked at her—winked!Elizabeth could not be certain of his exact meaning, but whatever his wife and sister thought about Mr. Bingley’s interest in Jane, Mr. Hurst did not agree.
The second was, of course, Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth did not understand the reason for his return, but the way he watched them was serious, almost grave, though what he thought of the scene before him was not apparent. When he glimpsed Mrs. Bennet and her excesses, however, Elizabeth could see a slight grimace or shake of his head, and while Elizabeth could not disagree in a general sense, the sight irked her more than a little.
Finally, Mr. Bennet’s attention was also on Jane and Mr. Bingley, and he did not bother to hide his feelings on the subject, though they were of some surprise for Elizabeth. Lackadaisical, detached, and even indifferent or indolent were words that could describe his behavior, but there was nothing of that gentleman in the way he watched them. Instead, he was focused, intense, and displeased by what he was seeing. Given Mr. Bingley’s recent absence, Elizabeth could not blame her father for mistrusting the gentleman’s motives, though she wished this protective instinct had shown itself earlier.
True to Elizabeth’s growing conviction, it was not long before Mr. Bennet acted, and unless she missed her guess, Mr. Hurst had expected it and was enjoying the spectacle.
“Mr. Bingley,” said Mr. Bennet, his voice ringing out over the room and quieting conversation, “it occurs to me that I have some business to discuss with you.” Mr. Bennet turned to Mr. Darcy. “And with you, sir. If you would both allow me a moment of your time, I should like to speak to you in private.”
Mr. Darcy—more self-assured than Mr. Bingley—did nothing more than nod and stand. Mr. Bingley, however, turned a little white, though he did not refuse the invitation. The way he regarded Mr. Bennet suggested something approaching terror.
“Hurst?” said Mr. Bennet. “You are welcome to join us if you would like.”
The gentleman snorted and grinned. “Welcome? I would not miss this for the world.”
“But Mr. Bennet—” protested Mrs. Bennet until her husband put a hand up to forestall her.
“It is necessary, Mrs. Bennet. I shall return our guests to you in good order, though perhaps with a better understanding. Come, gentlemen, let us retire to the study.”
As the four left the room, Elizabeth watched, hopeful that her father had learned something of caution. Elizabeth did not think it necessary, given Mr. Bingley’s behavior, but she could not suppose a warning about expectations would go amiss. By Jane’s look, her sister agreed, though she was not at all averse to Mr. Bingley’s presence. Jane had told Elizabeth that she meant to have Mr. Bingley’s accounting, and Elizabeth thought it was an excellent notion—hopefully Jane would not allow her complying temper to keep her from demanding his explanation.
AS ELIZABETH HAD HOPED, Henry Bennethadlearned something from the day’s events. Though he supposed these three men were not the threat that George Wickham presented, there were certain facts he needed to understand, and expectations the two returned gentlemen must acknowledge before they could proceed. The matter of the officers was one that Bennet would have to consider at greater length, for he was aware his two youngest were treading the very edge of propriety, and if there was one Wickham in the corps, there could beanother or more. Bennet wanted an explanation about that matter, but he was also not of a mind to allow Bingley to pick up where he left off when he departed Hertfordshire, perhaps to leave again should sudden fancy take him.
When he led them into the study, Bennet sat behind the desk, allowing the other men to take positions in the available chairs. Hurst, he noted, situated himself to the side of the desk where he could observe them all, no doubt calculated to bring him the most amusement. Bennet almost shook his head—he and Hurst were much more alike than he had thought. Darcy and Bingley took seats in front of the desk, and while Darcy appeared to understand the significance with a hint of grudging respect, Bingley just appeared nervous.
“Thank you, Gentlemen, for indulging me. There are two matters of some import to address, and I think we should do so now and avoid misunderstanding later.”
“Of course,” was all Darcy said, while Bingley gave a jerky nod.
“First,” said Bennet, turning to Darcy, “I understand you are acquainted with George Wickham.”
“I am,” said Darcy, revealing nothing of his feelings.
“Then can you explain something of the threat the man poses to the community?” When Darcy hesitated, Bennet shook his head with no little impatience. “I am not asking for family secrets you should not share, but I need to know what the man has done so that I can take steps to counter him.”
Darcy nodded, though Bennet saw his jaw tighten. “That is why I have come, Mr. Bennet. Yet I have no objection to telling you what I know about George Wickham. I apologize if I paused, but he is a problem of longstanding and a most objectionable subject.”
“That much I understand,” replied Bennet.
“Wickham is the son of my father’s steward,” said Darcy, not wasting time considering or dithering. “His father was an excellent man who managed Pemberley’s lands for many years. I shall not bore you with the details other than a few facts. By the time we went to Eton—Wickham attending through my father’s generosity—I knew that his character was far from upright. By the time we were in university, I had all but cut my acquaintance with him.
