For a long moment, Miss Lydia regarded them, clearly not wishing to believe anything they said, but curious nonetheless. The girl had little ability to mask her emotions, for the anger and uncertainty swirled in her eyes and raced across her face.
“The truth, Miss Lydia,” said Darcy, deciding to strike while the iron was hot, “is Wickhamwasmy playmate when I was young, though it is a stretch to term usfriends. We associated with each other more of necessity than inclination, at least on my part, for there were no others of our age in the vicinity. I did not appreciate Wickham’s manners even when we were boys.
“My disapproval for him grew as we aged, and by the time we went to Eton, we had different circles of friends. Our time at school, and later at Cambridge, reinforced my opinion of him. Whenever there were cards at hand and money to gamble, Wickham was in the thick of it, and his debts of honor, and those at the local shops were substantial. Debt is an old friend of Wickham’s, for he accumulates it wherever he goes. I shall say nothing about the deficiencies in his behavior toward the ladies, for they are not fit for gentle ears.
“The most salient point,” continued Darcy, seeing her disinclined to interrupt, “is the living of which he loves to speak was a conditional request to assist him in his future profession. Is it not necessary for one to be ordained to act as a minister?”
Miss Lydia frowned as if she had not thought of that. “Mr. Wickham did not study at a seminary?”
“He did not, and he had no intention of accepting the living,” replied Darcy. “Not long after my father’s passing, he approached me and informed me he had no interest in the church. Instead, knowing my father’s direction, he applied to me for support in the study of the law.”
Darcy shook his head at his own folly, the eagerness to be rid of Wickham and the conviction any money he paid out would be well spent if it would free him of Wickham forever. “I suppose I should have gone about it a different way, but I confess, I wished for nothing more than to end our association. Thus, we negotiated a sum of money as recompense for his resignation of the living, and I sent him on his way, hoping I would never see him again.”
“How much?” demanded Lydia.
“That is enough, Daughter,” said Mr. Bennet.
“I have no objection to sharing it, Mr. Bennet,” said Darcy. “There was an immediate bequest of one thousand pounds in my father’s will. Our negotiations settled on an additional three thousand.”
The girl’s eyes bulged, and her mouth fell open. It was another who responded.
“Four thousand pounds?” gasped Mrs. Bennet. “Why, that is more than my husband’s estate produces in an entire year!”
“Itwasa substantial sum for a man in Wickham’s position.”
Darcy regarded Miss Lydia, the girl still shocked by what she had learned. Perhaps this would be the genesis of an increase of caution and showing some suspicion for Wickham, and as such, Darcy spoke to ensure she understood the point.
“With such a sum, a prudent man could lay the foundation for future prosperity, such as I understand your uncle has done. If he did nothing but leave it in safe investments, he could have lived off that money for a lifetime, even if he did not work for his own bread. Wickham did neither, as evidenced by his current situation as an officer in the militia.”
As he spoke, Miss Lydia’s expression hardened again, though he thought he noted a sense of doubt about her. Mr. Bennet’s stern gaze was still on her, and she did not respond, but Darcy knew he had not yet convinced her. It was enough to introduce a hint of caution.
“To Darcy’s testimony,” said Fitzwilliam, ever the faithful friend and cousin, “I can add my own. I am aware of every transaction between Darcy and Wickham by virtue not only of our close friendship and ties of blood but also because my uncle left the guardianship of my young cousin,” he smiled at Georgiana, “to myself as well as Darcy.”
“If that does not suffice,” added Darcy, “I have at my estate proof of Wickham’s debts and the contract he signed resigning all claim to the rectorship of Kympton parish. Knowing what I do of Wickham’s audacity, I ensured there would be no question of the legalities of our agreement.”
“Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Bennet, her tone far more compassionate than any he had ever heard from her, “this man used you in a manner most reprehensible. A scoundrel has taken us in. On behalf of my family, I apologize to you for believing his lies so readily.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bennet, but I do not blame you. Wickham has taken in many fine people, including my father, who saw him as an excellent young man and regarded his ways as nothing more than high spirits.”
What Darcy would not say was how surprised he was that Mrs. Bennet had offered the apology and that she was entirely sincere. That it was partially because of Georgiana’s experience with Wickham was not lost on Darcy, yet it showed the woman was not nearly as silly as he had always supposed. It had also not escaped Darcy’s attention that Mrs. Bennet had treated him with barely concealed hostility since the beginning of their acquaintance, and as he suspected he knew what had provoked it, he was not at all disposed to consider it unwarranted.
“Lydia,” said Mr. Bennet, his tone warning, “there is no question of Mr. Wickham’s worthlessness, not with Darcy’s offer to provide proof of his assertions. Or do you suppose Miss Darcy would invent such a history with Mr. Wickham from whole cloth, thereby risking her reputation?”
A grimace was the girl’s response, accompanied by a shake of her head. Whatever she believed, it appeared she would no longer speak openly of whatever doubt she still harbored.
“Good,” said Mr. Bennet. “Let us have no more of this. The Darcys are guests in our home; let us treat them as such.”
Thereafter, they allowed the fraught subject to rest, the company turning to other, more desultory subjects. Mr. Bennet spoke to them privily, suggesting he dispatch his footman to guide them to the cottage, to which they both responded with gratitude in the affirmative. With Georgiana’s effects delivered and the afternoon waning, Darcy contemplated suggesting to his cousin that they depart. Bennet watched them with amusement.
“If you believe my wife will allow you to escape without an invitation to dine with us, I must wonder that you have failed to take her measure.”
Sure enough, within moments of his comment, Mrs. Bennet extended the invitation, with a clear sense that she would not accept a refusal.
“At Longbourn, we can offer you fare far superior to anything you might receive at the inn, I am certain. I understand if you do not wish to stay, but surely you may dine with us.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bennet,” said Fitzwilliam. “We should be delighted.”
Nodding, as if they had just paid her the greatest of compliments, Mrs. Bennet left the room, presumably to speak with the housekeeper. If she had not already given directions to the kitchen, Darcy would eat his hat; but he was grateful for her hospitality, for an evening spent at the inn consuming their food would be most disagreeable. With the good wife absent, Darcy spoke with Mr. Bennet and arranged for his sister’s care, receiving Mr. Bennet’s assurance that his footman was a capable man he would task with remaining near the ladies and ensuring their safety. That allowed Darcy to keep Thompson nearby, for he was certain the man would be an asset in their quest to rid England of one George Wickham.
