The Road to Pemberley (48 page)

“Mr. Wickham, after a ragged beginning, we have learned to be frank with each other; at the very least, you can have no doubt about my ability to be frank with you. If you have come to request additional financial assistance, I can give every assurance that Mr. Darcy will remain deaf to all such entreaties. Given the state of relations between you and my husband, that must surely come as no great shock. As you are doubtless aware, I have endeavored to help Lydia by periodically sending her money that I saved out of my household budget; but I cannot increase such assistance at this time.”

“Sister, you are right about my past dealings with your husband, but you mistake the reason for my visit. Both Lydia and I are grateful for your kind assistance, but I do not come with an extended hand. I come rather to solicit your aid in presenting to Mr. Darcy a matter of importance to him, but one that he might be tempted to dismiss, given our strained relations.”

Wickham produced an envelope from his coat pocket. “If you would perform the kindness to give this letter to Mr. Darcy, impress
upon him the earnest manner in which I delivered it, and entreat his prompt response, I would be much obliged.”

“How very mysterious you are, Mr. Wickham!” exclaimed Elizabeth, refusing to accept the letter. “In the current circumstance, I find it impossible to honor your request. I cannot in good conscience promote something that I know so little about. First, divulge the contents of the letter; then, I shall decide whether to abet your cause.”

Elizabeth paused and then added, “You know me well enough to respect my discretion; surely, I have proved that to you more than once. You also certainly understand that Mr. Darcy and I never allow secrets to divide us. Your secret is safe with me.”

“I wholeheartedly believe that to be true, and you must understand that I intend no disrespect to you. I can only say that the matter I wish to bring to your husband's attention involves the late Mr. Darcy, and I have determined that, for the sake of courtesy, I must discuss the matter with your husband first.”

“A secret concerning the late Mr. Darcy? Whatever can you mean? That is too vaporous an implication to provoke me; I am afraid that you must be more forthcoming.”

“I am sorry that it is impossible for me to be substantive at this time, but you have my assurance that my information will be of the greatest interest to Mr. Darcy, as it directly concerns not only him but his sister, Georgiana. I am staying at the Lambton Inn for the next few days. Please emphasize to Mr. Darcy the importance of meeting me there this evening or the next.”

“Involving both Darcy and Georgiana? Very well, Mr. Wickham. You have succeeded in sufficiently rousing my curiosity, and I shall deliver your letter. I give you fair warning, however, that Mr. Darcy is not likely to grant the meeting you so desperately seek.”

Wickham smiled with perverse confidence as he bowed to her, gave her the letter, and kissed her hand. Elizabeth returned only a weak smile. Before she began walking back to the house, she watched him retreat to fetch his horse, jump onto the saddle in one fluid motion, and trot off toward Lambton.

Elizabeth could well believe that Wickham would rather not meet her husband at Pemberley. In the neutral setting of the Lambton Inn, Wickham's inferior rank and character would not appear at such a stark disadvantage. He must have carefully thought out the chances and consequences of his scheme.

She entered her home and found an agitated Darcy preparing to leave in search of her. James and Jenny were running after him in the hall.

“Oh, there you are, Lizzy,” said her husband. “James told me of the stranger. Did Wickham really dare show his face here?”

“Yes, it was rather a shock to encounter him. He has just departed for Lambton. Excuse me for a moment.”

Elizabeth took the children over to the housekeeper. “Mrs. Reynolds, I understand that Mrs. Pearce is making marzipan in the kitchen. I'm sure James would like to shape some animal figures, and maybe he can teach Jenny how to do it, too. Does that sound agreeable, children?”

“Oh yes, Mama,” cried James. “I want to make another hog's face, only better than last week's.” He grabbed Jenny's hand and led her down the hall. The parents then moved to the privacy of the study.

Darcy looked worried. “What the devil did that scoundrel come round here for? It can only be to our detriment.”

“I share the same fears and expressed them plainly to Wickham,” replied Elizabeth. “He put me off, however, requesting only that I give you this letter and strongly urge you to respond to it.”

Darcy carefully inspected the envelope. “I suspect that such poison ought not to be self-administered. I have a mind to toss it into the fire, unopened. Said he anything about its contents?”

“Only that it pertained to some hidden dealings of your late father, but his demeanor clearly implied some unsavory business.”

“So Wickham is attempting to use my father's good name in his design? It is beyond belief that any human being could seek to malign a man who was the source of his prosperity and happiness! My father attended to Wickham's every need, excessively so, and this is how he honors my father's memory?”

Lizzy agreed, but added, “Wickham made particular mention that the letter had equal import for Georgiana. At first, I refused to accept the letter, but upon reconsideration, I felt you might want to ascertain whether Georgiana required protection in this matter.”

Darcy acknowledged the implications of the situation, grateful for his wife's concern for Georgiana. He reluctantly broke the seal and began reading aloud:

“How perfectly outrageous!” cried Elizabeth. “I did not think him this cold and calculating, to hide behind praise of family and your father's good name while simultaneously threatening to bring shame to his memory.”

“Eternal hell is too cold a residence for that bastard,” Darcy muttered as he began to reread the letter.

When he finished, he spoke somberly: “I am certain that Wickham intends to share this document with the world, but he will share it first with Georgiana, driven as he claims to be by strong familial considerations. That is, of course, unless I intercede with sufficient incentive to convince him to forget the matter.”

“Blackmail, Darcy? Wickham has proved himself to be reckless and dishonest, but never did I imagine him capable of such malice and ingratitude as this!”

“It appears that I, too, have underestimated him.”

“You give no credence, though, to his tale about your father having an illegitimate son?”

“It sounds improbable,” replied Darcy thoughtfully. “By all appearances, my parents were devoted solely to each other. Yet if there had been such a child, my father certainly could have had reasons for wanting to maintain secrecy.”

“What sort of document could Wickham possess?”

“A birth certificate perhaps.”

“It would be an extremely good forgery, then, for he seems extraordinarily confident of his scheme. Wickham is no fool; surely, he must know the consequences of trifling with you, Darcy.”

“Yes, that is what concerns me most. Why would Wickham put himself at such great risk—why would he confront his estranged brother-in-law—if his allegations were unfounded? No, he must be certain of the authenticity of his claims, and he plans to enrich himself accordingly.”

Lizzy pondered the consequences. “Why should we have to make any response to Wickham at all, Darcy? We both know him too well; this must be some sort of trick. We are under no obligation to investigate his wild claims; we can, in good conscience, denounce
them as false. Even if he were to make the matter public, you could censure him and disgrace him. Society knows what sort of fellow he is; and Georgiana certainly would disbelieve such a story.”

Darcy pondered the matter for a few moments, finally speaking in resignation. “Wickham knows me too well. He is right. If there were the slightest chance that I had a half brother, I would want to know.”

“You are determined to meet Wickham?”

“I see no other resolution. I shall procure the documentation and have it validated. If it is true, I shall find our new brother; if false, I shall have the scoundrel cast in chains.”

“Will you go this evening, then?”

“Yes, directly after supper,” answered Darcy. “It is best not to permit boils such as this to fester.”

Darcy rode his horse to Lambton at a deliberate pace, for he was by no means eager to meet the man who had proven to be such a constant thorn in his side. Darcy recited the tableau of troubles to himself: Wickham's dissipation at school, his attempted seduction of Georgiana when she was still very young, his lies to Elizabeth during Wickham's Meryton encampment, and his scandalous desertion of the army and elopement with Lydia.

The constant swirl of rumors concerning Wickham's gambling had also reached Darcy's ear. Unhappily, Wickham's professed regard for family, so lately acquired, had little practical application as far as his wife and children were concerned. Having long ago grown tired of playing benefactor, Darcy briefly entertained the small hope that Wickham's skill and luck with cards had somehow
improved sufficiently to prevent his family's ruin; but he knew such a wish to be hollow. His brother-in-law had evidently sunk to such a desperate state that slander and blackmail were no longer beneath him. Darcy, agitated by anger and despair, nearly abandoned his mission, but his duty to family gave him the strength to press onward. He resolved to maintain his composure and conclude the sordid business as quickly as possible.

When Darcy arrived at the inn, the transition from brilliant evening sky to dim candlelight momentarily blinded him. Eventually, he discerned Wickham in the corner, befriending a nearly empty bottle of wine. On the vacant side of the small table stood a second glass of ruby port, which he had confidently poured for Darcy hours earlier. Darcy calmly walked to the table and stood before him without greeting. Wickham rose quickly and extended his hand, but his guest ignored it, so he simply reemployed it in gesture, motioning for Darcy to be seated and enjoy the glass of wine.

“I am glad that you have come, Mr. Darcy. It has been too long since our paths have crossed.”

“A few more decades of separation could have been easily tolerated on my side, I assure you,” responded Darcy. “Despite your dreams of family unity, this is not a social call, is it?”

Wickham was at a loss for an adequate response. Darcy continued, “Your letter mentioned that my father had two sons; I have come to inspect your proof for such an incredible assertion.”

“Always to the point, aye, Mr. Darcy? No time for inquiries about health or happiness? Well, I trust there will be plenty of time for that after you accept the truth of my information.”

Wickham reached into his waistcoat and produced a single sheet of paper. Darcy read the brief document aloud:

“What?” shouted Darcy. “You consider this proof? This proves nothing!”

The outburst attracted the attention of the entire room. The pair remained silent until the ambient noise resumed. Darcy then spoke moderately but not less forcefully. “Wickham, you astonish me. I had expected a more artful attempt than this! This is merely the transcription of a baptismal record; and the name of the boy's father is completely absent. How can you maintain any hope of laying this at my father's door?”

Wickham, not intimidated, waited in silence for Darcy's storm of emotion to dissipate. Darcy began to suspect that the surprising weakness of the document might, perversely, be a point in favor of Wickham's case.