He was avoiding my brother. While Darcy would not cause a scene in public, there was no guarantee of such restraint in private. But with Mr. Bennet’s will potentially soon in need of proving, I presumed Wickham was hoping he might benefit from the death of his father-in-law.
“I must admit, I am surprised to find you here,” Wickham mused, taking a step closer. “Or I was surprised, until I saw you sharing a dance with Miss Catherine Bennet. You just cannot help yourself, can you?”
I hated his smirk. I hated that he thought he was allowed to say Kitty’s name. I hated that I kept standing there as he spoke.
“She makes a fine dancer, doesn’t she?” he said, every inch of his grin mocking. “I myself have had the pleasure on a few occasions.”
My skin prickled at the knowledge he’d touched her, even with gloves between them.
“Don’t” was all I managed, the rough texture of bricks digging through the back of my dress with how deeply I tried to hide myself in the wall.
“You seem determined to damn others alongside you. Poor Miss Bennet,” Wickham said, mock sympathy dripping from his words like honey. “It would be most terrible for her if news of this particular indiscretion was to get out.”
My heart stopped in my chest. Surely there was no reasonleft to blackmail me. He was married; Darcy had paid off his debts to encourage him to marry Lydia and save her reputation after they’d run away together. Neither I nor my money could be of any use to him.
“She has done nothing wrong,” I managed, though my voice was far weaker than I was proud of. “Leave her alone.”
Wickham only laughed.
“I think we’ve found ourselves in this situation before,” he said. “You are the one with the power to determine what happens here. If you want me to do what you ask, I need something from you in return.”
He got closer still, bracing one arm against the wall beside my shoulder so there was no way for me to escape. With his other hand, he tugged on the loose end of my hair ribbon.
“So what will it be?” he asked me, as casually as someone enquiring after someone’s preferred breakfast choices.
The realisation of what he wanted sent a wave of icy cold fear through my body. He was talking about something far less innocent than marriage, something I would never give. Something he had no reason to even be requesting.
“You married Lydia Bennet,” I reminded him, although I was sure he had not forgotten.
“Indeed I did,” he said with a laugh. “But you are not a fool. No doubt you are aware that married men, particularly those less than fulfilled by their match, often stray?”
My pity for Lydia was not insignificant. I knew he had toyed with her from the beginning, worse than he had me. Every choice I’d made was just that, a choice. I’d knownexactly what I was getting into and I’d chosen it anyway, even if I had to do so under duress. He’d made Lydia believe he loved her, but if he was willing to extort intimacy from me, I didn’t doubt he was seeking it from others. It could be easily bought even when he didn’t have the benefit of information as leverage.
As much as I felt sorry for Wickham’s wife, I pushed the sentiment aside in favour of surveying the situation I had found myself in. I would not let him threaten Kitty, but I wouldn’t let him hurt me, either. This was a chess game and I was a cornered king, one move away from a checkmate. There were two ways out of check. I either needed to move the king or have another piece come to the king’s aid.
Both of Wickham’s hands were pressed against the wall, caging me in. He was far too close, and I could smell the alcohol on his breath. When Kitty was that close to me, it took every bit of self-control I had not to kiss her, but all I wanted to do to Wickham was strike out at him. So I let go of my self-control.
I didn’t have a good angle to put much power behind the punch, but I didn’t need it. My brother had taught me how to make a fist and drive it forward, the lesson coming after he’d exhausted chess and Latin in knowledge he could bring me back from school. I’d never actually used this particular teaching before, so I had to drag it out of a hazy memory. My form was probably off and my power lacklustre, but it was enough.
My fist connected with the side of Wickham’s jaw in asatisfying crack. I doubted I had broken his bone or even really done that much to hurt him, but the shock of my action was enough to have him reaching for his chin, rubbing at where I’d made impact. With his arm lifted, I dodged around him, freeing myself from the wall. The king was out of check.
“You little whore,” Wickham growled, reaching out to grab me.
I stumbled out of reach, turning and running back in the direction of the assembly hall’s entrance. Wickham wouldn’t do anything in public, especially not with Darcy there.
Turning the corner, I ran directly into Elizabeth. The impact upset the wine in both glasses she was carrying, sending it sloshing over the rim and soaking into her gloves.
“Wickham,” I explained before she could say anything.
Elizabeth’s eyes darkened at the name. The king now had a rook at its defence. If I could negotiate the presence of a knight in the form of my brother, a checkmate would be almost inevitable—at least in my hands. Then I would have to worry only about the ongoing safety of my queen.
Even not knowing the truth of what had transpired between Wickham and me two years ago, Elizabeth knew enough to immediately turn protective. She abandoned the wineglasses in favour of taking my arm and quickly leading me back inside. The crowds were a comfort as witnesses to deter Wickham from trying anything else, and I felt my heart rate slow back down and my lungs stop heaving. My heightened state of alert faded, giving way to a realisation of what had just happened.
Wickham was threatening me again. He had threatened Kitty. If I hadn’t removed myself from the situation, I had no idea how he was planning for it to end.
I stumbled over my own feet as it all hit me, Elizabeth having to support my weight for a moment to stop me falling.
“As soon as we find Darcy, we are taking you back to the house,” she assured me. “No one is going to hurt you, Georgiana.”
