“That is well. The merchants are already baying for his blood.”
Mr. Bennet shook his head with exasperation. “The situation is as much their doing as Wickham’s. What man in his right mind allows a man unknown to them to amass debts as this Mr. Wickham has? The colonel would not tell us how much, but I get the sense it may prove ruinous.”
“It is not insubstantial,” agreed Mr. Philips. “This will be a lesson for them all.”
“And one that is overdue,” said Mr. Bennet.
With that, they descended into conversation a little more desultory. Mrs. Philips engaged Elizabeth and Jane’s attention, speaking at length about Mr. Wickham, the situation, and hersense of outrage that she had hosted such a man in her sitting-room. Mr. Bennet and Mr. Philips spoke together in low tones, and though Elizabeth could not hear them, she suspected they were speaking of the situation and what must be done to move past the damage of Mr. Wickham's actions.
In time, they rose to depart, promising to meet at Longbourn on Sunday for a family meal—the Philipses attended them at least once a month. Then they stepped out of the house to make their way back to the carriage. About them, Elizabeth could see signs of the ongoing search for Mr. Wickham, suggesting they had not yet found the man. Most of the residents had dispersed, leaving the usual clusters on the streets on any day.
“You don’t suppose Mr. Wickham will come to Longbourn, do you?” asked Jane as they walked.
“Not unless he considers it a convenient place to hide,” replied Mr. Bennet. “Right now, all his thoughts are bent on his escape, for he must know what awaits him.”
Jane nodded. “That is well. He is angry with Lizzy—I do not wish her to be hurt by such a man.”
“Yes, well, until the colonel’s men capture him, I suspect Lizzy should curtail her walks.”
“It is already late, Papa,” replied Elizabeth. “I shall not walk today, and will remain close to the house until the danger passes.”
“Good girl.”
Moments later, the discussion became irrelevant. As they walked toward the carriage, Elizabeth happened to glance down an alley. Though it took her a moment to realize what she was seeing, soon the sight of a man crouching down, peering out into the street caught her attention. Her eyes met his, and she knew who it was.
Before she could cry a warning, he snarled and moved from his place of dubious concealment, rushing toward Elizabeth onthe street. Had he remained silent, he might have achieved his objective, but his enraged cry tore through the streets, alerting Mr. Bennet to his presence.
“Foul doxy!” snarled Mr. Wickham as he emerged from the alley, hands raised like a raptor’s claws. “I will show you what happens to those who cross me!”
Elizabeth nimbly stepped to the side, avoiding his grasping fingers except for a slight brush on the side of her dress. Then Mr. Bennet, who had whirled at the sound of his voice, rushed forward. Though Mr. Bennet was older and more accustomed to turning the pages of his beloved books than fisticuffs, he was also protecting his daughters. Mr. Wickham struggled and swore, but Mr. Bennet kept him away until several soldiers rushed toward them, grasping Mr. Wickham’s arms and twisting them behind his back.
Mr. Wickham cried out in pain and struggled to release himself, but the men tightened their grip, provoking a gasp. Several officers who had been part of the search moved from the direction of Longbourn, their gazes stony.
Then, as a final bit of ridiculous timing, a carriage slowed to an abrupt halt, and two gentlemen stepped out, motions clipped and angry. When Elizabeth saw their faces, she gaped with astonishment. It was Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley.
Chapter XI
Had he considered it, Darcy could have predicted Wickham’s actions in advance. The moment he caught sight of them, Wickham’s desperation turned to renewed confidence. Darcy was not inclined to be charitable.
Of more immediate concern was the state of the Bennets. Mr. Bennet was shaking his hand, likely bruised from the altercation with Wickham, while Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth stood behind him, the former with an expression of utter fury for the disgraced officer, unlike anything Darcy had seen before, while the latter regarded Darcy himself with astonishment. Wickham had stopped struggling, already showing Darcy a pleading look. Darcy, unwilling to accept Wickham’s mewling, turned away.
“Thompson,” said Darcy to his most trusted and burliest footman, “perhaps you might lend a hand to subdue our dear friend.”
A wicked gleam entered Mr. Thompson’s eyes. “With pleasure, Mr. Darcy.”
Thompson did not need to do anything. The moment Wickham caught sight of him, the color in his face drained, and his struggling ceased. His pitiful looks at Darcy were an annoyance, but Darcy found himself equal to ignoring his erstwhile friend.
“Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Bennet, “it seems that I should have expected you to join us. I can think of several reasons for your arrival—perhaps you would be so good as to share what brought you here.”
Though nonplussed by Mr. Bennet’s statement, which appeared unaccountably sly, Darcy nodded toward Wickham. “Ifyou suspect me of wishing to deal with this snake, you are not incorrect.”
“Ah, the obvious reason then,” replied Mr. Bennet, again confusing Darcy.
“Darcy!” exclaimed Wickham, finally overcoming his fear of Thompson. “The timing of your arrival is most fortuitous, for I seem to have come across a spot of trouble.”
Darcy regarded the sorry excuse for an officer, wondering at Wickham’s daring. Perhaps there was some reason in Wickham’s mind to hope for a reprieve—Darcyhadpaid Wickham’s debts in both Lambton and Cambridge after all. That was several years ago, and Darcy had done so specifically to avoid tarnishing his family name that Wickham had used to get what he wanted. After paying the man the sum in exchange for the living, Darcy had cut all ties with him, had made it known in Lambton that he would no longer accept responsibility for Wickham’s accounts.
It appeared that Wickham did not consider that aspect of their history. Then again, Wickham never considered anything unless it benefited him. To him, the Darcy family had always been a way to an easy life of dissipation, to do what he wished without restraint or consequences. But even if Darcy’s father had not passed away early, Wickham would not have continued to benefit from the family’s largesse. Eventually, his father would have learned the truth of Wickham’s character—there had been no man more upright than Robert Darcy.
