Page 80 of To Win Her Affections

“In this instance, company would require additional funds and make finding you more likely.” Darcy considered how best to induce him to reveal himself, then said: “You do not even appear to enjoy the girl’s company much.”

“If I am not mistaken,” said Fitzwilliam, “it was because our Wickham here lacked the funds to retreat on his own.”

“A spot of bad luck, nothing more,” said Wickham, shrugging as if it did not signify. “I had thought to retreat alone, but Miss Lydia began making comments designed to induce me to offer for her. If I must flee from Brighton, why not do so using her money?”

Darcy heard the muffled gasp from the other side of the door and knew he had Wickham. Even better, Wickham did not appear to notice it himself.

“Then you did not intend to marry her,” clarified Darcy.

Wickham glared at him. “Would you marry such an empty-headed little flirt as Miss Lydia Bennet?”

The sneer that came to his lips was one Darcy had seen many times. “Of course you would not. The high and mighty Darcy would never marry any woman of less prominence than a duchess.”

“You truly are a piece of work, Wickham,” said Fitzwilliam, shaking his head in fury. “After leading the girl around by the nose, taking her away from your own colonel’s house and ruining her reputation, you claim you have no intention of taking the honorable path and marrying her.”

“‘Tis no surprise, Colonel,” said Thompson, his voice laced with contempt. “Wickham here has no concept of honor.”

“Honor is for those who can afford it,” spat Wickham. “Miss Lydia is a comely girl, but her charms pale in comparison to the money she provided when I needed to escape. I had some notion of ridding myself of her—I suppose I no longer need to concern myself with her disposition.”

“In that, at least, you are correct,” said Fitzwilliam.

Wickham then turned shrewd. “Of course, if you make it worth my time, Darcy, I might reconsider. That must be the reason you have come. Since the only way for Miss Lydia to regain her reputation is to marry, you mean to ensure that I cooperate. I warn you, Darcy—it will not be cheap. You are consigning me to a life with a witless bit of muslin. You had best be very convincing.”

The door opened silently at that moment, and Miss Lydia stepped into the room, her eyes blazing. Wickham did not notice her at once, but Darcy saw that the beatific girl who had left the room was gone. Miss Lydia Bennet was most displeased.

ON ONE LEVEL, BENNET pitied his silly daughter. The overheard conversation between Darcy and Wickham was stripping away any notion she had that Mr. Wickham had fled Brighton with her for the reasons she had cherished. On the other hand, Bennet knew it was the best way for the girl to learn what she needed to. Sometimes a little cruelty could be kinder in the end. What Bennet had not expected was how she responded.

Before he could so much as move, Lydia pushed the door open and stepped into the room, her fists clenched at her side. Then with a swift motion that caught everyone in the room off guard, she stepped to Wickham and slapped him so hard his face whipped to the side.

“You horrid, deceitful man!” screamed she. Bennet would not have been surprised if Maggie could hear her in Hertfordshire. “How dare you speak of me like that?”

By this time, Wickham had recovered his sense—unfortunately, his wits took a little longer.

“Because it is the truth! Why, you had me wanting to put you out of the carriage by the side of the road before we even reached Albourne!”

“Then why did you not?” demanded Lydia.

“Because you were so insistent on accompanying me!” roared Wickham. “As long as you were with me, at least you could provide a little companionship. But you could not even do that!”

“What do you mean?” asked she, taken aback. “Did I not travel all the way to London with you?”

Wickham sneered. “And an excellent companion you were. A man wants a little more for a lady companion with whom he is living, yet you would not even hear of obliging me.”

Even Lydia understood that, though Wickham had the presence of mind to at least put it in such terms as to avoid being coarse. Though Bennet considered intervening at that moment, afterward he was glad he did not.

“What do you take me for?” asked Lydia. “I am a gentlewoman, Mr. Wickham. Of course I would not allow you into my bed until we are married.”

“Wait a moment,” interjected Bennet, quite astonished by it all. “Lydia, are you saying that you are still a maiden?”

Lydia turned to him as if scandalized. “Papa, do you suppose I am not? Did you not warn us all against such activities without the protection of marriage?”

Bennet could not so much as utter a sound for a long moment. In fact, he remembered the conversation quite well, though he had no notion Lydia had taken it as seriously as she had. It had been a matter infamous and much talked-of for some months, though it had not happened in Meryton, but in a community to the west. A young girl, the daughter of a landowner, had found herself in the family way, and her father had compelled the man responsible to marry her, completely against the fellow’s wishes. It seemed Lydia had carried a determination to refrain from such activities from that discussion, though she had not understood that the appearance of impropriety could be just as damaging.

Bennet caught Gardiner’s eye, and they understood each other well at that moment. It appeared there was another alternative in this, given Lydia had not, in fact, lost her innocence to Mr. Wickham. There was no time for that at the moment, as they still needed to deal with Wickham. Colonel Fitzwilliam, understanding the situation as well as anyone else, took steps at that moment to remove the complication from the room.

Going to the window, he opened it and signaled to the men waiting in the streets, then he turned back to Wickham. The expression he showed the erstwhile officer was not at all pleasant—Wickham blanched at the sight.

“It seems we have no more need to interrogate you, Wickham. Since you have deserted, your regiment shall have the pleasure of dealing with you first. Trust me, friend, you will regret your rash decision to desert.”