“I will not allow myself to be insulted by you,” Mrs Younge said with affected outrage.
“Come now, we both know you are the first person Mr Wickham would turn to when he needs money or a warm bed. If he is not still here, where can I find him?”
“Why should I help you?”
“Because I shall double any amount Mr Wickham has promised you.”
Mrs Younge rose and paced, idly touching the furnishings as she walked. At first glance, it was a well-appointed parlour, but upon closer examination, Darcy could see its wear. The wall coverings had peeled near the window, the carpet’s edge was frayed under frequent use, and Darcy noticed the overstuffed sofa had faded in the sunlight. Mrs Younge’s gown was fashionable, but the silk had lost its soft lustre. Her consequence in the world had fallen since he dismissed her from his employ.
“I am certain I do not know what you mean.” Mrs Younge recovered some of her poise. “You may show yourself out.”
Darcy remained standing before the door. “Mr Wickham owes you money, does he not? We both know he will gamble away everything he has before he pays you. It is expensive to keep a house this large in Edward Street. As I said, I shall pay you twice what he owes you if you tell me where I can find him and the woman with him.”
“So it is about her, is it? I had not thought a foolish girl would be the sort to attract him, let alone you.”
Darcy smirked. Mrs Younge held an unrequited love for a profligate gamester who would never marry her. Darcy almost pitied her for her disappointed hopes. She sat rigidly in her chair, avoiding his eye. “We both know your funds hold more importance than your loyalty to an unfaithful gamester. Where are they?”
“George arrived on Friday with the girl, looking for lodgings while he conducted business. It is quiet since the Little Season has yet to begin, so I gave them a room for which she paid for the week.”
“She is here!” Bingley interrupted.
“She thought herself on an adventure and kept talking about being for Scotland and being the first of her sisters to marry.” She gave a derisive laugh. “As if George would marry her.”
Her tone raised his suspicions. “Where is he now?”
“George left the morning after they arrived. I know not what he told her, but she has kept to her room since he left. He told me he would not return for some time, but that has always been his way. I never know where he goes or when he intends to return.”
“And the girl with him—what did he intend for her?”
Mrs Younge looked at him expectantly, and Darcy reached into his coat pocket to retrieve his coin purse. He withdrew several gold guineas and tossed them on the chipped side table nearest to her. Mrs Younge clutched her hands in her lap rather than immediately scooping up the coins and made no attempt to hide her triumph.
“At the end of the week, in return for what he would pay me when I next saw him, I was to turn her out on the street near Covent Garden at nightfall.”
Bingley gasped, and Darcy set his jaw as he bit back his anger. A woman wandering the streets at night would be assumed to be a prostitute. She was liable to be robbed, raped, or killed, and any who heard of her sufferings would say she deserved what happened to her. Mrs Younge held her head high as Darcy quelled his disgust at being forced to contend with such a rapacious woman.
“Call her down.”
“I might remind you that I am well aware of your young lady’s name.”
Bingley looked anxious, but Darcy held her gaze. He was not about to pay this woman a shilling more.
“And allow me to remind you, madam, that I might tell any of your lodgers about your dissolute ways and ensure that no one will let from you again. You would no longer be able to keep up appearances in this wealthy neighbourhood. One word from me, and it will be you who are forced to earn her keep outside Covent Garden.”
Mrs Younge, unable to cling to any remaining dignity, rang for the maid to bring down “Wickham’s girl” and to pack her belongings. “I want her gone! She is of no use to me now.” After snatching the guineas from the table, she stomped from the room.
They did not wait long before Lydia Bennet appeared in the doorway, her high spirits and self-assurance undiminished. She bounded into the room, threw herself into the nearest chair, and asked why they had called. Bingley looked too shocked by her display to speak, but Darcy was not about to spend another moment longer in this house.
“Lydia, we are here to persuade you to quit this disgraceful situation and return to your family.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Aye, that is just like your formality and discretion, Mr Darcy. I need no help of yours!”
“Mr Wickham has abandoned you with no concern for your welfare. You desperately require the help of your friends.” Darcy tried not to let his exasperation show.
“My dear Wickham left to secure the funds necessary for us to marry! Perhaps if you had not treated him so horribly, we might have gone on to Scotland by now. Even so,” she said, twirling a strand of hair, “we should be married some time or other, and it does not much signify to me when.”
“You threaten the reputation of your entire family the longer you remain here!” He took a breath and controlled his patience. “I regret to tell you that Mr Wickham has no intention of marrying you. An honourable man would not abscond with a lady and deny her family their due respect in being addressed for his permission for them to marry.” The feeling of already having had this conversation struck Darcy. It was eerily similar to what he said to Georgiana when he removed her from Ramsgate last summer, though Georgianahad been much easier to convince.
At the mention of her family, Lydia’s smile slipped. “Did my father join in your search for me?” she asked in a hopeful voice.
