Page 54 of Hidden Desires
DARCY RETURNED LATE THE NEXT MORNING, Wickham shackled and mounted behind him on the horse. Bennet waited at the top of the drive, refreshed from a good night’s sleep.
“Welcome back,” he said, nodding to Dracy, then Wickham. “And hello to our proud bridegroom. I hope you slept well, because this is an important day. The parson would not forego the banns when I spoke with him, but he agreed to read all three during tomorrow’s service to satisfy the law.”
At Wickham’s scowl, he turned to Darcy. “How was our guest? Did he give you any trouble last night or this morning?”
“Our guest insists he is a reformed man,” Darcy said, dismounting and gesturing toward him. “He made no complaints, but I would have ignored them anyway.”
“I see he is wearing shackles.” Bennet pointed to the steel cuffs at his ankles. “An improvement over the ropes we used before.”
“Colonel Forster wanted to ensure he did not miss the wedding. The rope had frayed, whether from the journey or his efforts to escape, I cannot say, so the colonel replaced it with these irons. We secured him and tied him to the saddle again, just to spare him the distress of falling off and missing his own wedding.”
“It was unnecessary,” Wickham muttered, his mouth twisted in a sullen pout. “I gave you my word as an officer and a gentleman.”
Darcy laughed and clapped him on the back, as though sharing a humorous tale with a friend. “I would sooner trust the word of a common thief than yours. You have proven more than once that you are no gentleman, and it is only through Colonel Forster’s indulgence that you remain an officer.”
He turned to Bennet. “I reviewed the matter with the colonel, and he will allow Wickham’s absence long enough to attend the wedding. Once the ceremony is complete, our friend is going to the Scottish border for a year. Wickham has accepted his fate, though not with any grace or gratitude.”
“When I spoke with the parson,” Bennet said, “I told him the wedding is in three days.”
Darcy frowned. “I was under the impression this was to be resolved at once. Has that changed?”
“That was my intent,” Bennet said, “but Mrs. Bennet would not hear of it. She insisted I write to her brother, Mr. Gardiner, and his wife to tell them the news, so I sent a messenger to London with an invitation and a brief explanation.
“I told her I would wait two days for them to arrive, but no more. If they leave at once, they should arrive in time for the ceremony and Mrs. Bennet’s wedding breakfast.”
“Wedding breakfast?” Darcy echoed, chuckling. “I did not expect such a warm reception after what he attempted.”
Bennet sighed and shrugged. “Nor did I. But this is the first of her daughters to be married, and she insists on holding the event, circumstances notwithstanding.”
“Then I will take him back to Meryton until the wedding,” Darcy said, taking the reins of Wickham’s horse. We can let Colonel Forster keep him under lock and key until his wedding day.
Wickham groaned.
“Or,” Bennet replied, “I have a tack room in the stable that will serve just as well. It has no windows, the door locks, and there is little chance my future son-in-law can escape his destiny. This way, he is sure to be in attendance and we need not worry about his punctuality.”
“As I told you before,” Wickham said, his shoulders slumping and head bowed, “I will not try to escape.”
“Your promises mean little,” he said as he led Wickham to the stable.
He took the man into a small room whose walls were covered with bridles, saddles, and various other items needed for the care and keeping of the estate horses.
From one side to the other, the room was just eight feet across, leaving enough space for a man to lie down. In one corner was a farrier’s stool used to repair or replace a horse’s shoes. Beside that was a small table with a lamp, which Bennet lit before moving back to the door.
The flickering light showed pegs placed at eye level along one wall, upon which hung an assortment of heavy blankets for covering horses during cold weather.
“This is your lodging until you are married. Make yourself comfortable, as you will be alone until the blessed event.”
“Where am I to sleep?” he asked as Bennet pulled the door closed. “I see a stool and a table; where is the bed?”
“The floor is your bed,” Bennet replied, looking down. “If you wish, I can send one of the servants with some straw for a mattress, although I expect you to clean the room before the wedding. Those blankets will keep you warm if you are cold.”
“You cannot expect me to live in this tiny room,” Wickham exclaimed, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“Were the decision mine, your accommodations would be much less grand,” Darcy snapped.
“You will eat your meals here.” Wickham groaned at the news, but Bennet only shrugged.
“Allow me to make one thing plain. I do not care whether you find the room comfortable, only that you remain here until the ceremony. The cook will send a plate at mealtimes, not out of concern for your comfort but because I will not have it said that I starved my future son-in-law. You may not enjoy the next few days, but you will be well enough to stand beside my daughter when the time comes.”
He pulled the door closed, leaving Wickham sitting on the stool with his head in his hands. Taking a key from his pocket, he pushed it into the lock. Darcy heard the click as it turned, securing Wickham in the room.
“I hope you and Miss Darcy can accept my decisions regarding his fate,” he said as the men crossed the yard toward the manor. “My concern lies more with preserving the Bennet name than seeking justice for what he did to your sister.”
Darcy smiled in response, which Bennet found oddly out of place.
With a chuckle he said, “I doubt he will find wedded bliss, at least not at first. I can picture the sermons she means to deliver in her efforts to reform him, and the pain he endures from her careful descriptions of his many imperfections.”
Bennet laughed. “Mary’s never been one to let a sinful habit go unpunished. I wish them both the best but have no sympathy for the man. And I am not altogether certain what awaits my daughter either.”
“I find that comforting,” Darcy said, laughing outright, “and I can say with complete honesty that whatever he suffers will more than compensate Georgiana and me.”
“It seems a drink is in order,” Bennet said as they reached the house. “Will you join me in the library for some brandy?”
“With pleasure.”
* * *
Bennet set his snifter down and regarded his friend over the rim of the glass. The words he needed did not come easy, but silence would not suffice.
He thought back on the past few days and the role Darcy had played in their resolution. His warning, though too late to prevent Mary’s elopement, had raised an alarm and allowed their pursuit to end in success, with Wickham captured and Mary safe.
Bennet felt a deep gratitude toward this man who, without regard for his own comfort or safety, had insisted on joining the chase. Without Darcy’s judgment, he would have gone in the wrong direction, leaving Wickham free to despoil Mary and abandon her to disgrace and poverty.
Darcy prevented that, and Bennet could not allow him to leave without sharing what was in his heart.
“I owe you a debt I cannot repay. All I can do is thank you for your help in spoiling Wickham’s plans. Without your company, I would have failed.”
“I could not stand by and do nothing,” Darcy replied. “If you had refused my offer, I would have gone after him myself. After what he did to Georgiana, the thought that he might escape punishment again was unacceptable. Although the knowledge was hard won, I have learned the cost of silence.”
“Still, I was surprised you returned so soon after what happened with your sister. When you left, she was far from well, and your concern for her was clear.”
“What prompted you to leave her and return to Longbourn? Surely your concern had not faded in so short a time.”
“If anything,” Darcy said, “it increased. When Georgiana told me about Wickham’s threats, my anger was nearly more than I could contain.
I managed to master my emotions, but then my thoughts turned to Miss Mary.
If I remained at Netherfield, doing nothing, she would endure the same fear and shame Georgiana suffered.
“My decision to do what I could to prevent that brought me back. Knowing Wickham as I do, I could not ignore the danger your daughter was in.”
“Again, thank you for all you have done, both for me and for Mary. If ever there is something I might do in return, you have only to ask.”
Darcy smiled and nodded. “What good are friends, if they ignore each other’s troubles? Since we met, you have shown nothing but kindness. You welcomed me and Georgiana without hesitation, and my respect for you has only grown.”
Bennet shrugged. “My father used to say people are strangers by coincidence but friends by choice. I cannot recall him speaking ill of anyone, and he would not allow gossip in his presence. Since his passing, I have done my best to follow that example. I do not always succeed, but I try.”
“From what I have seen, you do your father credit. You are the friendliest man I think I have ever met, and your wisdom and wit impress me.”
He paused, a moment of silence hanging in the air while he seemed to search his mind for the appropriate words to express himself.
“I must also confess that Miss Elizabeth impresses me as much, if not more,” he said, lowering his gaze to the desk before meeting Bennet’s eyes again.
“Her thoughtfulness and effortless display of quiet generosity are qualities that I admire, while her intelligence and playful wit are a delight.
She sees through confusion and cuts to the heart of things.
Georgiana both loves and trusts her, something I feared she might never do again.