Page 158 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

Darcy regarded her without anger. “Miss Elizabeth is a gentleman’s daughter, and you are not in a position to question her birth. You endangered my name to compel my conduct, which is coercion, not protection.”

The last defense left her. She turned and walked from the room with Louisa behind her, while Hurst remained long enough to take the false note from the table and examine the handwriting.

“She chose her approach,” he said.

“And failed,” Bingley replied.

By three o’clock, the Hurst carriage stood before the steps. Caroline descended with Louisa and found the hall arranged without her direction. Her smaller trunk waited beside the door, the footman held her cloak, and the housekeeper carried a list of the articles that would follow. Caroline questioned the choice of trunk, objected to how a gown was folded, and demanded to know who had ordered the carriage before she finished packing. Each servant looked to Bingley before answering.

The habit struck her harder than open defiance would have. Through hundreds of small decisions that no one thought worth contesting, she had governed Netherfield, and Bingley had ended it with a word.

Caroline entered the carriage without farewell. Louisa followed, and Hurst paused beside Bingley before taking his place.

“She will object to every mile,” he said.

“I suppose she will.”

“And I am dreading every second of it.” Hurst climbed into the carriage and shut the door.

Bingley watched until the wheels passed beyond the drive, then returned to the hall, where the housekeeper waited with two footmen. He gave orders about Caroline’s trunks, instructed the servants to speak of the incident to no one outside the household, and told the housekeeper that future arrangements would come from him. The orders were unfamiliar to him, but the house accepted them without resistance.

A letter from Rosings arrived before dinner, filled with Lady Catherine’s complaints about the conduct she had witnessed in Hertfordshire. She condemned Bingley’s hospitality, Bennet’s insolence, Georgiana’s disobedience, and Darcy’s refusal to heed the claims of family and rank. Elizabeth received the greater part of the last page, where Lady Catherine described her as a scheming woman whose apparent openness concealed designs Darcy would regret failing to recognize.

He passed the letter to Bingley.

Bingley read it and looked toward the ceiling. “She has identified the danger.”

“A day late,” Darcy said.

“And the wrong woman.”

Darcy took the letter back and dropped it into the fire.

The following morning, Darcy and Bingley rode to Longbourn with a packet of papers secured beneath Darcy’s coat. Bennet received them in his book room, where Elizabeth joined them after Darcy requested her presence. Jane remained upstairs with Kitty.

Darcy placed the packet on the desk. “You asked for evidence rather than conclusions. I apologize for not bringing this sooner.”

Bennet removed his spectacles, cleaned them, and put them on again. “An apology before the documents suggests either confidence or desperation.”

“Regret,” Darcy said. “I delayed because I feared that a public dispute would make Meryton choose between Wickham and us before anyone examined the facts. That delay let him continue.”

Bingley sat beside the desk. “I shared the error. Wickham entered our society through the regiment, and I accepted his manner as proof of character.”

Bennet opened the packet. The first pages contained accounts from a tailor, a saddler, two tavern keepers, and a jeweler in Meryton. Each named a debt Wickham had contracted after invoking Darcy’s friendship or implying that payment would come through Pemberley. Other statements traced the same practice through towns where the militia had stayed. Darcy had settled several smaller sums to protect tradesmen who could not survive the loss, but he had refused debts tied to gambling and luxury.

Bennet read without comment until he reached a letter from Colonel Forster. “This concerns Kitty.”

Elizabeth leaned closer, though she did not touch the page.

“Wickham borrowed money from Lieutenant Denny after suggesting that he expected an advantageous connection in Hertfordshire,” Darcy said. “He named no woman, but the dates match his attentions to Kitty. He also asked a Meryton jeweler to extend credit for a trinket and said a Bennet marriage would settle the account.”

Bennet’s mouth hardened. “Did he give the trinket to her?”

“No. The jeweler refused him.”

“There is more,” Bingley said. “Denny states that Wickham laughed about keeping one Bennet sister pleased while he waited to see whether another prospect improved. Denny came forward after Colonel Forster confronted him with the debts.”

Elizabeth looked to the window. “Kitty believed his preference sincere.”