“He is a lot of things, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, not hesitating to meet her gaze. “Wickham defrauds anyone he can without the means or intention of paying his debts, gambles, and has no care for the reputations of the women he uses.”
Mr. Darcy shrugged. “When the opportunity presented itself, I offered him a substantial sum of money in exchange for dissolving all connection between us.
“I now suspect Wickham never considered the acquaintance to be at an end.”
“Of course, he did not,” said Georgiana.
When Elizabeth looked at her friend, she could see that Georgiana was offended, most likely for her brother’s sake. She would soon learn that was not all.
“Mr. Wickham has always seen my family as his path to money, whether given freely or by other means.”
Mr. Darcy grimaced. “That is not unreasonable, Georgiana. When our father passed, I saw no true grief in Wickham, only annoyance that he now had to deal with me rather than one who supported him, believed his lies.”
“I do not understand, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “How could your father not know?”
The gentleman remained quiet for so long that Elizabeth wondered if he would respond at all. At length, he sighed and passed a hand over his face, though whether it was regret or some other emotion, she could not say.
“Father did not know because Wickham was adept at playing the dutiful protégé. As I am of age with him, I had many opportunities to see him in unguarded moments, a benefit my father did not possess. I knew what he was by the time we were twelve, but my father never saw it.”
“And you never told him?”
Mr. Darcy shook his head, his face a mask of contemplation. “No, I did not. At the time, I told myself that I was protecting my father’s happiness. He took my mother’s death hard—in the last few years of his life, it was like he was living a life absent from all joy. Wickham, for all his faults, could make my father laugh when it seemed he was incapable of it. I did not wish to take this away from him.”
“You have not heard the worst part of it,” said Georgiana. “Mr. Wickham’s betrayals run deeper than just this.”
“Georgiana,” cautioned Mr. Darcy, appearing apprehensive. “We have told Miss Elizabeth enough to put her on her guard.”
“I do not agree.”
Before her brother could voice further objection, Georgiana turned to Elizabeth. “What you do not know yet is that Mr. Wickham attempted to induce me to elope with him.”
Shocked, Elizabeth could only stare at her friend. “Mr. Wickham tried to seduce you?”
Fortunately, Elizabeth had moderated her voice—Jane and Mr. Bingley appeared oblivious to the tense conversation happening only a few feet away from them. Mr. Darcy did not appear concerned for them, but his steady look at his sister suggested... Elizabeth did not think it was quite disapproval, but he was not happy she had said as much as she had.
“Seduction must have been his ultimate goal,” said Georgiana, bravely meeting Elizabeth’s eyes. “But more than that, he wanted control over my fortune of thirty thousand pounds.”
At once, Elizabeth understood. “Then—if marriage was his object—he meant to take you to Scotland.”
“Only two days before we were to depart, my brother joined us unexpectedly.”
“It was nothing more than chance, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy. “I had not planned to go, but I left a friend’s house early and decided to surprise my sister. I will be forever grateful that I did.”
“Thus, you can see,” said Georgiana, “that Mr. Wickham, confident in his success, made no attempt at seduction while in Ramsgate. Perhaps it was some vestige of respect for my father—I do not know. But all he did was convince me to go to Scotland with him.”
“That is a shocking level of betrayal,” said Elizabeth, unable to fathom the evil in a man’s heart that led him to such actions. “After everything your family has done for him.”
“It was not enough,” said Mr. Darcy quietly. “It was never enough. Wickham has always lusted for great wealth, has always resented me for being born the son of a wealthy gentleman while he was the son of a steward.”
It was all too much for Elizabeth to comprehend, though she could see something of it from Mr. Wickham’s perspective. Carrying his grudge as he had, he no doubt saw her aversion for Mr. Darcy and had acted to poison her further against him, sinking Mr. Darcy’s reputation in the process. Now that she thought on it, from his behavior the previous day, he had expected her to spread the story about the neighborhood and was disappointed when she did not. Had she done so, he could have supported her account but remained above the fray, so to speak, enjoying his sense of superiority without dirtying his hands.
Then the other implications made themselves known, and Elizabeth’s eyes shot to Mr. Darcy. The sight of the man’s impassive stare provoked her to anger.
“Mr. Darcy,” said she, voice tight and controlled, “I understand your history with Mr. Wickham is not a happy one, but did you take no thought for the neighborhood? You had information that would have rendered Mr. Wickham untrustworthy, yet you withheld it. Now Mr. Wickham is welcome in every sitting-room in the district.”
As if he had expected it, Mr. Darcy sighed and shook his head. “I did not speak out for reasons I thought were good at the time, Miss Elizabeth. Last night, my sister took me to task for my blindness, and now I have cause to suppose I erred.”
“Do not concern yourself, Elizabeth,” said Georgiana. “We shall not allow Mr. Wickham to continue as he has. But I am curious—what did he tell you?”
