Darcy did know it, which was why he hadn’t tried to pursue Wickham after the man left Ramsgate. He hadn’t even been afraid Wickham would slander Georgiana’s name in Hertfordshire; the story hardly reflected well on Wickham, after all. His biggest fear was that one day, Georgiana would find herself face to face with the man again and fall apart, and if Wickham was sent to America, that danger was forever removed.
“Very well,” he said finally, “I will defer to you, though perhaps I might offer a useful contact... putting Wickham on a military ship might give him a little too much opportunity to talk to officers who do move in our circles, but a merchant ship does not offer the same dangers.”
“Have you gone into shipping then, cousin?” Fitzwilliam raised a brow.
“Not I, but Mr Gardiner. Mrs Bennet’s brother, who I met at Pemberley in Miss Elizabeth’s company and who has accompanied us to Brighton to see of what service he can be to the family. He runs an import and export business out of Cheapside in London.”
“Now that is a useful contact, indeed! He knows all?” Fitzwilliam asked.
“He does, or at least, as much as I knew before this latest escapade.”
“Which is quite enough. Let us speak to him as soon as may be, then. Honestly, the sooner we have Wickham away from these shores, the happier I shall be!”
They nodded at each other in perfect agreement, and Darcy, thinking the conversation was done, turned for the door. His cousin’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Darcy... this Mr Gardiner. Is this the connection of the Bennet family to which you objected so strongly you thought it necessary to detach Bingley from Miss Bennet?”
Darcy winced, but he should have known Fitzwilliam would ask the question sooner rather than later. His cousin was about to tie himself to the family, after all. Turning to face Fitzwilliam, he squared his shoulders and debated with himself. Was it really wise, or even kind, to tell his cousin that the Bennet connection he had thought most likely to bring disgrace on the family was Miss Lydia?
Or should he tell a different truth?
“The greatest objection I had to Bingley’s marrying Miss Bennet was that I should be unable to escape further acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth,” he confessed, “and at the time, I was quite desperate to never see her again lest I take leave of all my senses.”
Fitzwilliam’s eyes widened, and then he began to laugh heartily. Clapping Darcy on the shoulder, he choked out, “I shall look forward to welcoming you as a brother one day soon then, cousin!”
“Do not count your chickens before they are hatched,” Darcy warned. “Come on, let us go and consult with the others. You have my support for this marriage, and in dealing with Wickham however you must; let that be enough for now.”
They exited the study into the narrow hallway, but before they could re-enter the parlour, footsteps on the stairs made them look around, to discover the three Bennet sisters descending.
Darcy was surprised to see Lydia’s expression light up as she caught sight of Fitzwilliam, but not with the silly, flirtatious glances she had been wont to offer to the militia officers in Meryton. This was a shy, sweet, genuine smile, and Darcy began to feel a little more hopeful that perhaps, his cousin hadn’t made an enormous mistake.
He stood back to let Fitzwilliam take Lydia’s arm and escort her back into the parlour, met Jane Bennet’s eyes next and couldn’t quite help but glance down guiltily, thinking even as he did so that he must write to Bingley in the morning and convince him to remove to Netherfield as soon as possible.
Jane glided past him serenely, following Lydia and Fitzwilliam into the parlour; she paused in the doorway for a moment, glancing back at him, and then closed the door with a quiet click.
Which left Darcy standing alone in the hall with Elizabeth.
Darcy looked rather as shocked as Elizabeth felt, she thought. He stood in the open doorway to what she suspected was a study, and she paused in front of him, wondering what in the world she could say. Considering his previously stated sentiments aboutthe unsuitability of the Bennet family, the prospect of one of them marrying his cousin must be unpalatable at best.
“Well,” Darcy said, looking down at her, and she realised with a start that Jane had closed the parlour door, leaving Darcy alone with her in the hall. “This is most certainly not what I expected to find here in Brighton.”
She felt briefly defensive; she could hardly have known either, but his tone wasn’t in the least accusing. Indeed, his smile looked almost rueful as he shook his head slowly.
“I thought I would be needed to pay off Wickham, remove him from the field of play, but I find that my cousin has very efficiently handled everything.”
“And set himself up as our family’s saviour,” Elizabeth pointed out, then thought she had sounded ungrateful, so added hastily “for which he will have my eternal gratitude. What might have become of Lydia does not bear thinking of.”
“Indeed!” Darcy shuddered. “At least I am confident Wickham would actually have married Georgiana, if he was able. He would have had to in order to get his hands on her dowry, and he can have been sure I would never have allowed her to live in poverty even once that was spent. Lydia...”
“Lydia came with no such assurances, and therefore had little value to him beyond a momentary distraction,” Elizabeth said, brutally direct. “She is aware of it, to my surprise. I’m not sure who enlightened her - perhaps your cousin - but she has grown up very quickly, into a young woman with a good deal of common sense, if that is of any comfort to you.”
Darcy’s brow furrowed. “Comfort?”
She hesitated, but said “Come, Mr Darcy. It is not so very long ago that you were telling me how unconscionable it would be to have the Bennet family connected with your own.”
He stared at her for a moment, and then, to her astonishment, caught her hand in his own and pulled, drawing her into the empty study. Too startled to protest, she followed, and watched as he closed the door and leaned back against it, his dark eyes fixed on her face.
“You must understand,” he said, almost desperately, “youmustunderstand how much I despise myself for saying those words. I was in terrible pain when I spoke them, lashing out at you for declining my suit, which is no excuse...”
