Page 159 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

“Some part of his attention may have pleased him,” Darcy said, “but that did not make it honest. He encouraged her because the admiration served his vanity and gave him welcome at Longbourn.”

Bennet closed the packet. “You spared the tradesmen immediate loss, preserved Bingley’s standing, and avoided turning Meryton into a court of public opinion. All sensible aims.”

Darcy waited.

“And while you protected everyone from discomfort, Wickham found fresh credit and my daughter found reason to trust him.” Bennet’s tone held no cruelty, but it offered no escape. “Incomplete evidence was not no evidence. We all preferred the less troublesome conclusion.”

“I did,” Darcy said.

“So did I.” Bennet rang the bell and asked Hill to send a message to Colonel Forster. “We shall correct what remains within reach.”

Colonel Forster arrived before noon with Wickham under orders to accompany him. The officer entered the book room wearing the same expression that had carried him through Meryton for months, but it faltered when he saw the papers arranged across Bennet’s desk.

“This appears formal,” Wickham said. “I hope no one has mistaken a few private obligations for honor.”

“Debts contracted through another man’s name concern honor,” Colonel Forster replied. “So do false statements made to obtain credit.”

Wickham looked at Darcy. “I might have known where this began.”

“It began with your conduct,” Darcy said.

“Your resentment has followed me since boyhood. Now you bring tradesmen and tavern accounts into a gentleman’s house to disgrace me before people who have shown me kindness.”

Bennet tapped the letter from Denny. “You repaid that kindness by treating my daughter as a convenient amusement.”

Wickham’s smile faltered. “Miss Catherine and I enjoyed a harmless friendship. I never made an offer or promise.”

“You allowed her to expect one,” Elizabeth said.

“I cannot answer for the hopes of every young woman who mistakes courtesy for devotion.”

“No,” Darcy said. “You answer for telling another officer that her admiration preserved your welcome here while you waited for a better prospect.”

Wickham turned to Colonel Forster. “Denny resents me. He has taken private conversation and shaped it to please Mr. Darcy.”

Forster drew another paper from his coat. “Denny signed his statement before two witnesses. The jeweler confirms your reference to a Bennet marriage, and three tradesmen heard you claim that Mr. Darcy would answer your debts. You will remain under restriction while I submit the matter to my superiors. You will also provide a complete account of every debt contracted in Meryton.”

“My creditors will accept time.”

“They have given you enough.”

Wickham saw no opening in Forster’s face. His charm receded, leaving irritation and calculation beneath it. “Then I assume I have nothing more to say.”

“You have said enough,” Bennet replied.

After Forster took him away, Darcy gathered the papers without satisfaction. Elizabeth watched him restore each statement to its place.

“You expected relief,” she said.

“I expected an end to uncertainty. They are not the same.”

“No.” She looked toward the ceiling, where Kitty’s room lay above them. “Now we must tell her.”

Kitty came downstairs between Jane and Elizabeth, already suspicious of the solemn summons. Lydia followed without invitation, while Mrs. Bennet entered behind her and demanded to know why Colonel Forster’s horse had stood at the door.

Bennet gave Kitty the truth without reading every insult Wickham had spoken. He explained the debts, the false use of Darcy’s name, and the evidence that Wickham had encouraged her affection without intending marriage. Elizabeth added that his deception reflected his character, not any defect in Kitty’s worth.

Kitty stared at them. “He said I understood him better than anyone in Meryton.”