Darcy in Want of a Wife

Chapter 5

Darcy House

Two days later

The sky was bright and clear outside, sunbeams shining through the window of Darcy’s office where he sat bent over his desk writing letters. The scratching of his quill was the only sound apart from the crackle of the fire in the hearth and the occasional voice or footstep from an adjacent room or hallway.

The master of Pemberley had spent several days turning the matter with Bingley over in his head and had finally decided to set the affair aside in order to better focus on his duties as an estate owner. Even now he was writing to his steward at Pemberley with a recommendation for one of his tenant farmers, Jonathan Corwell, on which crops the man should sow for the coming growing season.

As he paused to ponder how to word a certain line, Darcy’s thoughts wandered to his sister, Georgiana, who was currently at Pemberley. He had just received a letter from her the previous day, telling him of her progress with the pianoforte and of her day trip into Lambton with Mrs. Annesley.

He missed Georgiana dearly and wished he did not have to remain in Town for the remainder of the Season, but if he was to find a wife, he needed to attend parties and dinners. In any case, he would write to her as often as his duties would allow.

Footsteps came down the hall outside, but Darcy did not look up until his office door swung open.

“Mr. Bingley is here to see you, sir,” his butler announced, and then stepped out of the way to reveal Charles Bingley with a bottle in his hand.

“Good morning, Darcy,” Bingley said with a bow.

“Bingley, good morning!” Darcy said in surprise, rising to his feet. “Do come in, please!”

The butler retreated and closed the door, and Bingley turned toward his friend, his expression grave, and said, “Thank you for your kind welcome. I know I sent you quite a fractious letter, and the more I have considered what took place, the more I am aware that this is truly my fault. I ought not to have let you talk me out of my pursuit of Jane, and that is my responsibility, not yours.”

Darcy felt his entire body relax with relief. He had, he realized, been extremely distressed by the break in the relationship between himself and his friend. “And I ought not to have given you such faulty advice. The more I reflect on it, the more I realize that I know little of the matters of the heart. Moreover, I am not a man who demonstrates my feelings, so it was especially foolish of me to imagine that Miss Bennet’s serenity indicated indifference. I am very glad that you chose to visit!”

“Thank you, Darcy. I must speak to you on a delicate matter, one which I hope you can assist me with. But it is not of vital importance that we talk of it immediately. Would you care to join me for a drink first?”

Bingley held up a bottle of fine brandy, and Darcy nodded, only too happy to oblige. Glasses were fetched, and the two of them retreated to a sitting room next to the study in order to speak further. The sitting room was well furnished and richly decorated, with azure drapery and seating and tall windows that let in the mid-morning sunlight. Bingley seated himself in a high-backed chair near to the hearth, where a fire was blazing merrily, and Darcy sat down across from him.

“So I know that you are now engaged, my friend,” Darcy said. “Do you have a plan on when you will marry?”

“We do not yet have a date, but it will be within the next fortnight.”

“So soon!”

“Yes! I have no wish to wait longer after so many weeks apart. I will purchase a license, and we will arrange the wedding settlements, and then we will wed in Meryton.”

He blew out a breath, took a sip of his drink, and went on,“The matter I came to speak to you about, however, concerns a man of your acquaintance by the name of George Wickham. I understand you have had unpleasant dealings with him, but I need to hear the full story.”

Darcy frowned deeply, swirling the brandy in his glass. “May I ask why?”

“By all means,” Bingley said, leaning forward as though offering a closely guarded secret. “I have been informed by Jane that Wickham has impregnated the seventeen-year-old daughter of one of the tenants at Longbourn and is refusing to take responsibility. The young woman is being cared for, but I wished to consult with you; is this common behavior for Mr. Wickham? If so, it seems that perhaps something should be done about the man.”

Darcy’s face had darkened throughout Bingley’s explanation, his fingers tightening on his glass.

“Indeed, it is all too common,” he gritted out. “Wickham has been doing this sort of thing for longer than I care to say. Even before my father’s death, he was running up debts and wiling his nights away with wenches and dairy maids. He traded the living in Kympton promised to him by my father for three thousand pounds, and now everywhere he goes, he sullies my name by claiming I stole the living from him. Yes, I think it is far past time that something be done about him.”

“I am pleased to hear that you agree,” Bingley said, “but if he has been engaged in such behavior for so long, why have you not dealt with him before now?”

Darcy took a sip of his drink in order to stall as he formulated a response. Bingley was a dear and trusted friend, but Darcy was hesitant to reveal Georgiana’s folly, even to him. On the other hand, Bingley would soon be brother to the youngest Bennet girls, who were exactly the sort of ladies liable to fall for Wickham’s lies.

“I tell you this in confidence,” he finally began, “and I trust you will not repeat it. You know, of course, my younger sister, Georgiana.”

Bingley nodded, his face grave. “I do. You do not mean to tell me that Wickham laid his hands on her?”

“No, but he meant to,” Darcy said grimly. “Last summer, Georgiana traveled to Ramsgate with a companion by the name of Mrs. Younge, in whose character I was most unhappily deceived. Mrs. Younge was in league with Wickham, who followed the pair to Ramsgate, and between the two of them, they encouraged Georgiana to believe she was in love with Wickham and to consent to an elopement. My sister has, as you know, a large dowry.

“By chance, I came to visit earlier than expected, and I caught them before they could steal her away, but Georgiana had already agreed to marry him. I have been hesitant to take retribution against him for fear that he will use the incident to sully her reputation. I would like him dealt with, as he will never have his fill of ruining young women, but I feel my primary responsibility is my sister, who is still greatly distressed over it.”

Bingley’s face had darkened by the time he had finished, and his fisted hands shook with rage. “What a scoundrel! Last summer ... Miss Darcy would have been fifteen! For him to take advantage of the daughter of the man he claims to so revere, he is despicable! And this Mrs. Younge as well!”

Bingley stopped and took a deep breath, taking another sip from his glass before he continued. “I thank God that you arrived in time to put an end to their plot. It is a shame that he got as far as he did, but still, how was Miss Darcy to know that both her companion and her lover meant her harm? It is truly reprehensible.”

“Exactly. Wickham was her playmate when she was young, and I foolishly refrained from telling her of his evil character, so she felt she had every reason to trust him. Of course she is not at fault, but the ordeal upset her greatly when she realized how close she had come to marrying a man of no honor or kindness, who would have doubtless spent all of her dowry on gambling and wild living, and then abandoned her. And he would have, too. I truly regret not informing her earlier of his dissolute ways, but I had no thought that he would pursue her in such a way.”

Bingley nodded quietly, and the two men sat in silence for a moment.

“I will attempt to buy up his debts in Meryton,” Bingley finally said as he poured himself a second glass of brandy, “and have him sent to debtor’s prison. That will be a fitting place for him, do you not think?”

“I do,” Darcy agreed. “Against an abundance of receipts, even Wickham will not be able to charm himself out of his punishment.”

“Excellent,” Bingley said. “By the way, I will be marrying in the church in Meryton in early March. If you are available, I would be delighted to have you stand up with me as my groomsman.”

Darcy shook his head. “Thank you, but I would not wish to impose. I am afraid I made a very poor impression during my time in Meryton, and I would only dampen the festivities.”

“My dear friend, if there is anything I know, it is that the Bennets are kindly people, especially Jane, who is one of the most forgiving individuals I have ever met. If you prefer not to come, so be it, but I promise that you would be most welcome.”

Darcy hesitated for a moment, his thoughts immediately turning, not to Miss Bennet, but to her sister Elizabeth. It was stupid to consider returning to Hertfordshire; he was already dreaming of Miss Elizabeth. But to spend time with her again, in the flesh? Even the thought of seeing her, with her hair done up and dressed in fine clothes for her sister’s wedding, made his heart beat faster in his chest. Surely his only hope of recovering from this peculiar infatuation was to avoid the lady forever?

“I would be delighted to attend,” he said, his mouth moving in opposition to his thoughts. “Thank you, Bingley.”

“Wonderful! I will send you a message as to the particular date, and you are welcome, of course, to stay at Netherfield Hall.”

“Thank you,” Darcy said and then, inspired, continued, “I have the document at my solicitor’s office wherein Wickham gave up all rights to the Kympton living. Shall I bring that with me? I daresay he has been busily blaming me for his financial problems, and that is proof positive that he is a spendthrift of the highest order.”

“That is a superb idea, Darcy. Thank you!”

/

Drawing Room

Hurst House

London

That Evening

Mr. Hurst lay on the carpet, half asleep, enjoying the great pleasure which comes from a warm fire and a comfortably full belly. He was less pleased with the conversation of his wife and her sister, but he had plenty of experience ignoring his womenfolk.

“I have sent Thomas all over town, and Charles is not staying at the Clarendon, or Grillon’s or Grenier’s!” Caroline complained, pacing up and the down the rather tattered scarlet and blue carpet. “Where can he be?”

“Does it not seem likely that he has returned to Netherfield?” Louisa asked tentatively.

“Oh, Louisa,” Caroline replied, spinning to face her sister, “surely he has not already returned to the country; I am not there to act as hostess, after all, and the house was shut up, with a skeleton staff of servants and no cook. Charles likes his meals too much to do with castoffs from the kitchen!”

The door opened at this opportune moment, and Charles Bingley stalked in, his usually genial face rigid with disapproval.

Caroline was too pleased to have found her brother to notice his expression, but Louisa, less confident and more attentive, felt her heart sink while Mr. Hurst, who had been ignoring his wife and her sister, pushed himself to his feet and walked over to pour brandy for himself and his brother by marriage.

“Charles!” Miss Bingley cried out. “Thank God you are here! Where are you staying? It seemed as if you had disappeared off the face of the earth!”

“It does not matter where I am staying, Caroline,” Bingley said coolly, accepting the glass of brandy with a nod of thanks. “I will be returning to Netherfield on the morrow, and where I sleep tonight is of no concern to you.”

“Charles,” Caroline exclaimed, “I know that you think you are in love with Jane Bennet, but truly, she is not worthy of you. You could send her a letter ending the engagement and go to Scarborough for a time so that…”

“Do not be a fool,” Bingley interrupted. “The settlements are being prepared even now. I will be purchasing a license in the next few days, and the wedding is set for less than a fortnight hence.”

This had the desirable advantage of striking his sisters dumb with shock, and Bingley was treated to the doubtful pleasure of seeing both Caroline and Louisa lose control of their jaws, displaying even white teeth and quivering pink tongues.

“Congratulations,” Mr. Hurst said, walking over to slap his brother-in-law on the shoulder. “Miss Bennet is a charming young woman.”

“Thank you, Hurst,” Bingley replied in a surprised tone, although he kept his eyes fixed on his sisters’ horror stricken countenances.

“Charles, no!” Caroline finally managed. “No! You simply cannot...”

“Indeed,” Louisa agreed, though with less passion. “My dear brother, you have a responsibility to Caroline to marry well...”

“Louisa,” Mr. Hurst interrupted in a stern manner.

Mrs. Hurst stopped and turned to her husband in confusion; he was a genial and kindly spouse, and she had not heard that particular tone of voice more than twice in her marriage.

“Louisa,” Hurst said again, this time gently. “I must insist that you make no attempt to interfere in your brother’s engagement.”

“Mr. Hurst, this has nothing to do with you!” Caroline snapped.

“On the contrary, dear sister,” the gentleman replied with aplomb, “it has everything to do with me and my comfort. We all know our situation, that Louisa and I are moderately poor until my father dies, and we have been more or less been living off Bingley’s money and the interest from Louisa’s dowry. I have no intention of giving up my comforts by causing a break in the family, not if I can prevent it, anyway. Moreover, you ladies are both being very foolish, you know. Jane Bennet is the daughter of a gentleman, along with being kind, handsome, and honorable and is a perfect match for Bingley.”

“You never said such a thing before!” Caroline protested.

“I was not aware that we were fleeing Miss Bennet when we left for London, and by the time I was aware of what was happening, you and Darcy had already convinced Bingley that Miss Bennet did not care for him. Nor was I absolutely certain that she did love him. Also, I am lazy. But now, with Bingley and Miss Bennet engaged, it is stupid, pointless, and unkind to continue to protest that which has previously been decided.”

This long and unusual address rendered both ladies speechless, and Bingley said, “Thank you for your support, Hurst.”

“You are most welcome. I promise that Louisa will no longer cause any problems. Is that not correct, dear wife?”

Louisa breathed in and out and then, avoiding her younger sister’s eyes, said, “Of course, Husband.”

“Excellent,” Hurst said and then turned a beady gaze on his sister-in-law. “As for you, Caroline, I am quite tired of hearing you complain. If you wish to reside here with Louisa and me, I must insist that you stop whining about your brother’s engagement.”

Caroline was not the sort of lady to hold her tongue, but she was sufficiently amazed at the determination of both her brother and brother-in-law that she merely stood silent, her face bright red with outrage, her mind whirling with incredulity. How could such a thing be happening?