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What if Jane was married?

Page 82

by Gruinard

“Meeting my father before joining us, and then requesting the opportunity to speak with me privately?”

She still had given no indication as to whether she would welcome Darcy’s courtship.

“Indeed Miss Bennet. I wished to ask his permission to court you. Once he granted me this, I wanted to ask you whether you would consent to a courtship, with the intention of advancing to betrothal at some point in the future?”

“Why me?”

Darcy managed to stop his laugh, but he could not repress his smile.

“Would it surprise you for me to say, in part, it is reactions like that. You are different than the usual young ladies of the Ton. And I have come to admire this difference. Other young ladies are charcoal drawings, all black and white and shades of grey. You are a vibrant oil painting, so much more.”

He got to observe Elizabeth in a full-on blush. He was secretly pleased at this hit. He hoped it would be the first of many.

“Are you that confident that we suit? And that we can get over our rocky beginning?”

Darcy knew that Elizabeth Bennet admired the bold gentleman that was her brother-in-law. It was time to be bold in his suit.

“Yes I do. I was a boor and you called me on it. But more than that you brought me to my senses. Part of the reason, not an excuse, but in truth I am happier in the country than I am in town. And yet I only ever met young ladies in town. I admire your boldness, your intelligence, your kindness and love of family, let me stop there before I gush on.”

Another honest compliment, another blush. Two for two.

“Since you admire my boldness then I will be honest. You have already engaged my head. I too am taken with your intelligence, your mastery of running your estate, even the casual competence of running this leased estate. One where you are not even the tenant. I can imagine that we would suit well. However, before we get carried away, you have not yet engaged my heart. I consent to this courtship. In fact, I will be even more honest. I want this courtship to work. But I have seen my sister and her husband, you have mighty footsteps to follow.”

“I accept the challenge.”

Elizabeth Bennet smiled a wide and genuine smile. She had a weakness for a confident man!

--

Elizabeth never knew how she broke the stranglehold Wickham held over Darcy. It all happened when Darcy came upon the Bennet sisters in Meryton talking to a group of men. The three were all different, one was wearing clerical vestments, one was in the uniform of the Derbyshire Militia, recently camped outside Meryton, but it was the slightly shabbily dressed man that transfixed Darcy. It was George Wickham, in the town not two miles from where his sister was residing.

Rather than stride forward and make a scene, Darcy watched Miss Bennet attempt to separate her youngest sister from Wickham and the officer. It appeared that the religious gentleman was a member of their party. As he watched Darcy had an epiphany. He had insulted Miss Mary and her sister had cut short a trip to visit with Lady Carruthers just to return to Meryton and excoriate him in public. She cared not for his position, the awkwardness that she put the Lucas family through, she cared not for the rest of the Netherfield Park party. He had upset her sister and she was going to deal with him.

Miss Bennet wanted bold, her ideal of a gentleman was a blood-soaked naval hero. It was time to stop making excuses for Wickham and deal with him immediately. What was the point in having influence, power and money if he did not use it. Other than to continue to buy up the debts of Wickham!

He turned away unseen and went back to the Inn. He retrieved his horse and left town.

Less than two days later, Lt. George Wickham, with just one day of service as an officer, was paraded before the regiment and dishonourably discharged. He was taken in chains to Marshalsea Prison in London, under escort by two Bow Street Runners.

All it had taken was two expresses. One to the Magistrate at Bow Street requesting the services of two Runners for up to a week, a fairly typical request and one they undertook frequently for a modest fee. The second was to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, asking for the services of an unrelated but connected officer. This officer arrived less than an hour before the Runners.

“Cavendish, thank you for this.”

“Happy to help Darcy. Fitzwilliam did a favour for the family, kept something disreputable hush-hush, so we are happy to return the favour.”

“Here are sufficient debts and vowels to see Wickham in Marshalsea for the rest of his life. I suggest you say you won them at a gambling den. The man you won them off had won them earlier from another officer, muddies the trail back to me. I am expecting two Runners presently who will be responsible for getting him to the prison. All I require from you is a meeting with the local magistrate where he will sign a warrant demanding the immediate arrest and imprisonment of Wickham. Some Colonels do not like to hand over their officers to the civilian authorities but Wickham has walked away from debts of honour. He will not want a man with no honour as one of his officers.”

It was spectacularly easy. Colonel Forster wanted Wickham gone immediately. Darcy had taken it one step further. The Runners passed over a letter to the Governor of the prison. Darcy’s attorney would visit every week. Wickham was to be underfed, given no blankets and allowed no communication with the outside world. A steady flow of gold would fall into the Governor’s hand until Wickham expired from the appalling conditions.

As it turned out none of that was needed. Wickham got into a fight on his fourth day there and was stabbed with a vicious splinter of wood. He died instantly and the warders never found the culprit. When Darcy was informed he accepted the news calmly. But inside he was just glad it was all over. He did not rejoice at the death of the man, but he did not grieve either. The blight upon him, and his sister, would never bother them again.