IN TRUTH, THE PRATTLEof the matrons was amusing for a time, but Darcy grew tired of it and wished the matter to end expeditiously. To that end, he wrote a letter to his uncle the very day they exposed Wickham’s true character, and the response came soon after. Since Wickham’s sins in Meryton had never extended to seduction and Darcy had paid off his debts, Colonel Forster relinquished any claim on him, allowing the fate Darcy had designed to take effect.
It was no surprise when his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, arrived on the appointed day to see Wickham off to London and the ship that awaited him. Of course Fitzwilliam would wish to be instrumental in “lancing the boil” that had plagued Darcy for years. If anything, his cousin’s self-satisfaction exceeded Darcy’s own. Georgiana, who arrived with him, appeared no less gratified, though her feelings also betrayed no little relief.
“So, you have finally done it,” said Fitzwilliam when he arrived that morning.
“Is that your way of saying ‘it is about time?’” asked Darcy.
“Perhaps,” said Fitzwilliam with a shrug. “I had despaired of you ever taking action against him.”
“Let us simply say that Wickham pushed me too far this time.”
Fitzwilliam offered a decisive nod. “However it came about, it is most welcome. The notion of Wickham toiling away on some plantation at the bottom of the world fills me with contentment.”
“As it does me, Fitzwilliam,” agreed Darcy.
The subject of Wickham became unpalatable, having been already settled. The talk turned to Netherfield and the neighborhood, and Bingley, eager to prove to his lady love he was committed to earning her approval, proposed a visit to Longbourn. Darcy was not at all opposed.
“I should be happy to visit a local house,” declared Fitzwilliam. “Something tells me this is not merely a social call, Bingley, my good fellow.”
Bingley’s grin was infectious. “A social call it is, but Longbourn is also the home of a veritable angel in the flesh.”
Fitzwilliam guffawed, slapping Bingley on the back. “We are not close friends like you are with Darcy, but I seem to recall you referring to angels before.”
“Trust me, Fitzwilliam,” replied Bingley, “I only had an imprecise notion of what constituted an angel. Now I have an example of one.”
“Then I should like to make her acquaintance.”
The three men prepared to depart. Georgiana, feeling both shy and fatigued from the morning’s journey, begged off, speaking of her willingness to make his friends’ acquaintance when the opportunity presented itself. Hurst, never one for much socializing, and Mrs. Hurst agreed to stay behind.
“I shall remain and keep you company.” Mrs. Hurst offered a grin that differed completely from the calculating expression with which Miss Bingley had always regarded his sister. “As the only ladies in residence, we must rely on each other for support and companionship.”
Georgiana appeared to sense the difference in her, replying with a shy smile. “I should like that, Mrs. Hurst.”
As expected, Mrs. Bennet greeted the sight of an earl’s son with enough awe to suppress her natural high spirits, not an unwelcome development. “My cousin has come to Meryton to escort Wickham back to London.”
The Bennets appeared impressed.
“It is easier for me to see to it than my cousin,” explained Fitzwilliam. “As I am a colonel in the regulars and can command a detachment, my men can see Wickham to his ship in London without the possibility of escape.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. “Well, that is excellent to be certain. Mr. Wickham has used the neighborhood very ill, Colonel Fitzwilliam. The sooner he is gone, the better.”
“Those are my sentiments too, Mrs. Bennet. It pleases me that Darcy has acted against him—he has been far more lenient than George Wickham deserves.”
Fitzwilliam sat in their midst, and soon he was speaking in that agreeable tone he often used, his manners and facility in recommending himself to others not unlike Bingley’s. The youngest Bennets were interested at once, pestering him with questions about his experiences in battle within moments, their mother looking on with interest. Darcy knew his cousin’s sentiments about young ladies of Kitty and Lydia Bennet’s ilk—he would allow their questions, answer with a few anecdotes to satisfy them, then change the subject to other matters.
“Your cousin appears to be an excellent man, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Elizabeth after watching them for some moments.
“If you would like to learn for yourself, he would be happy to speak to you.”
Miss Elizabeth replied with an amused grin. “Yes, I have no doubt that he would. Having made my sisters’ acquaintance, you can hardly suppose they will relinquish his company an instant before they must.”
“The truth may surprise you, Miss Elizabeth. Fitzwilliam is adept at handling such ladies.”
“Oh, aye,” replied she. “I must suppose that he has seen their like in every corner of the kingdom.”
“I shall not say you are incorrect.”
“Itisshocking that you will return to London after only a brief visit,” said Miss Lydia at that moment, her fluttering lashes a testament to how agreeable she found him. “If you were to stay in Meryton, you would be most welcome.”
