Page 64 of Master of Himself

With Bingley trailing behind him, Darcy flew up the stairs and pounded on the door.

“Calm down, Darcy,” Charles said in an urgent whisper. “Remember, we agreed that I would handle the negotiations.”

When there was no answer, Darcy pounded again, and a bleary-eyed Lydia opened the door, her hair askew and green beribboned gown rumpled. “Mr Bingley?”

Darcy pushed her inside and closed the door while Charles lit the candles on the mantle. Wickham was still asleep, his red coat draped over the back of a chair and his knapsack in the corner.

“Miss Lydia, your family is worried sick about you,” Charles said. “Won’t you come away with us so we can return you to your family?”

“No, indeed, Mr Darcy. We are to be married,” Lydia said, shaking George’s shoulder. “Wake up, Wickie. Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy have come.”

Wickham awoke with a scowl. “What do you want?”

Darcy doubted George would settle for a girl with no fortune. “Is this true, George? Do you intend to marry Miss Lydia?” he inquired.

Wickham rubbed the back of his head. “I never said I would marry you, Lydia.”

“Of course, you did, Wickie. Don’t you remember? Last night you said you would play cards and win the money.”

“If you wish to marry, Mr Bingley and I can offer our assistance,” Charles said, advancing their plan.

“There, don’t you see, Wickie? We shall marry and be the happiest couple in the world, and I shall be the first of all my sisters to marry.”

Wickham didn’t bother to rise from his bed. “How much?” he said with suspicious eyes.

“We are prepared to add four thousand pounds to Miss Lydia’s existing dowry of one thousand,” Charles said in a determined voice.

“Go away. I won’t marry her for less than thirty.”

“Thirty thousand?” Darcy said, aghast at this exorbitant demand. “You can’t seriously consider keeping a gentleman’s daughter who is barely out of the schoolroom.”

Wickham carelessly flicked his hand. “Take her with you, if it’s so important to you,” he said, then rolled to his side as if intending to go back to sleep.

Nonplussed by this cavalier attitude, Darcy appealed to the girl. “You must now see that you have disgraced yourself by running away, Miss Lydia, but it’s not too late to save your reputation. We can bring you immediately to your uncle’s house.”

Lydia blithely shook her head. “Wickie is only funning with you, Mr Bingley. He will raise the money for our journey, and we shall be married. My sisters and friends will be so jealous that I have married the most handsome officer in the militia. You may go away with a clear conscience and marry Jane, since that’s all you really care about anyway,” she said, pointing to the door.

With Lydia now defiant and George entirely disinterested, Darcy had no choice but to withdraw. He couldn’t force Lydia to come away or Wickham to marry her.

His mind reeling, Darcy waited on the flagway for Lockhart to bring the horses forward. He had neglected to save Elizabeth and her sisters from ruin. After giving the order to drive to Gracechurch Street, he boarded and sat in the forward-facing seat. “What an abysmal failure.”

Charles raked his fingers through his hair. “I couldn’t have imagined that a man with no fortune would turn down five thousand pounds.”

Recalling his past dealings with Wickham, Darcy released a weary groan. “No, I ought to have known better. In less than three years, he went through four thousand from my father and whatever he inherited from his father, so I doubt five would be near enough to sustain his lifestyle, plus a wife. He wanted the thirty thousand he lost when I prevented him from eloping with Georgiana.”

Charles sadly shook his head. “We vastly overestimated our ability to influence them. As Lydia’s neighbours, we had no power to compel her to leave. Perhaps Mr Gardiner will have better luck.”

Darcy doubted this. “She won’t go of her own accord. He’ll have to drag her out of there.”

“You may be right. Do you know where on Gracechurch Street the Gardiners live?”

“Not precisely, only that the house is near his warehouse. Lockhart can make inquiries when we reach the neighbourhood.

Upon arriving at Gardiner’s Imports on Gracechurch, Darcy discovered that the owner wasn’t on the premises, but quickly learned which house belonged to Mr Gardiner.

Refusing to betray any emotion, he clenched his jaw as he and his doppelganger waited at the front door. When a servant answered the bell, he handed the footman two calling cards. “Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy to see Mr Gardiner on an urgent matter.”

They were shown into the drawing room where they were received by a woman close to his own age wearing a stylish gown and a worried pallor. “Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley,” she said, curtsying.