Elizabeth directed her answer to Georgiana. “Because Wickham told Lydia he would run away withher.” Georgiana’s mouth fell open. “They planned to elope after the assembly, but it was all a ploy to distract your brother, distract everyone, so Wickham could elope with you instead. You were thought to be engaged for the day, and everyone would think he had fled with my sister. He played a cruel trick on Lydia, and I came to retrieve her. The scheme to protect her good name will still protect yours. You can still come home.”
Wickham looked at Elizabeth in bewilderment. Hopefully, Wickham’s thoughts would be on his own concerns and he would not consider the implications for Elizabeth’s reputation.
He recollected himself, and scoffing and shaking his head, as though he had never heard such nonsense, said, “I never loved Lydia, and if she fancied a dance meant I would marry her, then she is a fool.” He held out a hand, and Georgiana moved from Elizabeth’s side to take it. “You are the only one for me, the only one I love.”
“You love her fortune,” Darcy said.
“No, he lovesme,” said Georgiana with rising determination. “And thank goodness I have that fortune because you denied him the living my father wanted him to have.” She shook her head in disappointment. “Fitzwilliam, how could you?”
Darcy laughed contemptuously, and then carefully explained the truth. He told her he had proof, but it was plain Georgiana was wretchedly blind to any criticism of her supposed lover. Wickham had interspersed lies with truth, and along with professions of adoration, had completely enthralled her.
“You are wrong,” she insisted, as only a stubborn girl who knew nothing of the world could. “He wanted the Kympton living, just as my father intended.”
“Tell her the rest,” Elizabeth said wearily. “Reasoning has not worked, and that detail might appeal to her emotions, which are sadly, deeply engaged by him.”
Darcy had hoped to appeal to Georgiana’s rationality, her sense of family honour, but Elizabeth was right. Maybe knowing her husband would be unfaithful, that he used women carelessly, that he would give her the pox would convince Georgiana to leave him.
“Not only does he drink and game to excess, but he is known in every brothel in London and by half of the girls on the street as well. Not only that, but he will bed any willing woman with empty promises, be it a naïve noblewoman or a dairy maid.”
His little sister looked at him in disgust. “What a terrible lie to spread about a man who was once your friend.”
“Friend?” he repeated, distracted. Inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, did not make him friends with the spiteful, selfish man now or when they were children. “Georgiana, Wickham has spent the last five years whoring, drinking, and gaming.He wasted the three thousand pounds I gave him. He will not provide for you. Is that the man you want for a husband?”
Georgiana’s jaw dropped, and Wickham affected a careless laugh.
“Those are merely fashionable vices—if a gentlemanwereto engage in them,” Wickham said. “I pass no judgment on those that do. Mr Darcy seems to know a great deal about such sordidness.” He made a condescending sound of disapproval. “But your brother lies, hoping to turn you from me. That is how badly he wants to keep you in the nursery.”
Georgiana gave Wickham a hesitant look, and Darcy’s heart soared with hope. “But, but have you ever done those things?” she whispered to Wickham.
“Will you judge me harshly for youthful mistakes?” he asked, as though wounded. “Those days are behind me, and I need a woman like you to settle me in domestic life.” He stroked her cheek. “Yes, a woman, not a little girl. Your brother will hate me forever for indiscretions every young man has done, but I am ready to dedicate myself to you and your happiness—if you will have me as I am.”
He was a charming liar, contradicting Darcy without insulting him, always encouraging his sister’s affection.
“Of course I will.” She threw her arms around him.
Wickham grinned over her shoulder and muttered to him, “What is even wrong with such ladies’ company?Youmight be satisfied by some sport you find alone, but not I.”
Elizabeth turned wide-eyed and then looked at the ground in mortification. His sister, thankfully, did not understand Wickham’s innuendo. Darcy stepped nearer and had the satisfaction of watching Wickham flinch. “I determined to have nothing to do with prostitutes as my health and the health of my future wife are of great consequence to me. Can you say the same?”
Georgiana turned from Wickham’s arms to look at him. “I do not understand, George.”
“If you marry him,” Darcy continued, “he will disgrace and destroy your body; you might not have children.”
Wickham pretended to laugh. “He thinks some wasp has stung me!I knew he would lie to keep us apart, but I did not know he would be vulgar.”
His sister still looked confused. “I don’t understand.”
He and Wickham exchanged a look, and for a moment they shared the silent question of who would explain it.
“Georgiana,” Elizabeth said to catch her attention, “it is not only his history with prostitutes, he…” She huffed a sigh and went to his sister to whisper in her ear. She may have thought they could have a private conversation, but Darcy heard her say, “A Haymarket ware gave him the pox.”
“Lies!” Georgiana shrieked at Elizabeth, who started and drew back. “You are just angry over Lydia’s silly disappointment.” His sister collected herself and looked apologetic. “I am sorry for her sake that Wickham chose me instead, but that is no reason to be vile.”
“I assure you,” Darcy said as Elizabeth stepped away with a sad look in her eyes, “your chosen husband has run after women for years, and he will not stop because he has a bride. Do you not see the fading rash on his skin?”
“That could be from many illnesses,” she insisted, “and he is perfectly healthy otherwise.”
“He caught a secret disease. He asked me to pay for his mercury treatment earlier this year.”
