Page 69 of Mr. Darcy’s Forgotten Heir (Pride and Prejudice Variations #1)
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
THE SPIDER’S WEB
Elizabeth anxiously awaited the post, as she did daily since Darcy had left for London.
He had been gone more than a week, and she had yet to receive a letter, express or not.
Instead, Graham had written diligently to Lady Eleanor with detailed reports documenting their progress in Hertfordshire, the systematic accumulation of evidence against Wickham, and their plans to interview Mr. Collins at his new position in Barnet—yet they contained nothing that addressed her private anxieties about Darcy’s state of mind or feelings.
“I wonder how their meeting with Mr. Collins went,” Elizabeth said, her eyes once again scanning the missive, as if a message written in invisible ink would manifest. “I had no idea he had been reduced to a curate under Reverend Michaels.”
“A rector who has lost his living is at the mercy of those who have multiple parishes,” Lady Eleanor commented. “Your Reverend Michaels is well-connected with the Archbishop himself, allowing him to carry a registry as well as multiple special licenses, for a stiff price, of course.”
Elizabeth winced as she recalled the fat purse Darcy had deposited in the cleric’s grasping hands. “Mr. Collins did not mention anything about Barnet while he was here. I find these coincidences quite suspicious. What is Graham not telling us?”
Lady Eleanor looked up from her own correspondence, noting the careful neutrality of Elizabeth’s tone. “You seem less than satisfied with Mr. Pullen’s reports.”
“They are perfectly adequate for their intended purpose,” Elizabeth replied with studied indifference. “I merely hoped for some indication of… that is, some word about Mr. Darcy’s health and spirits during their travels.”
The truth? She’d become convinced that she had treated Fitzwilliam with more harshness and cruelty than warranted.
His silence could only mean that he avoided thinking of her.
His only goal was to secure his son’s inheritance.
Hadn’t she told him their marriage would be in name only?
That she had no desire for affection or intimacy? That he had lost her heart forever?
Mary, who had been quietly mending one of William’s small shirts, glanced up with the sort of perceptive look Elizabeth had learned to dread. “You hoped for a personal message from your husband.”
The blunt statement brought heat to Elizabeth’s cheeks. “I hoped for some assurance that he remains well, yes. Graham’s discretion, while admirable, leaves much to the imagination.”
“Graham is protecting your feelings,” Mary observed with her usual directness. “Which suggests there is something requiring protection.”
“Perhaps.” Elizabeth conceded, setting down the letter. “I wonder about their visit to Longbourn. Graham only mentions it in passing.”
“I doubt they obtained any useful information from Mr. and Mrs. Bennet,” Mary said dryly, refusing to acknowledge them as parents.
“No, I daresay Mrs. Bennet had many excuses for her abominable behavior,” Elizabeth agreed. “Still, I had hoped Darcy would share his progress with me personally. ”
Lady Eleanor graced her with a sympathetic glance. “He could be dealing with his memory gaps. Perhaps he has discovered emotions that could overwhelm his ability to express in words. Fitzwilliam has always been a sensitive boy, a careful boy…”
She trailed off as the sound of carriage wheels on gravel drew everyone’s attention toward the front drive. A hired hackney coach of distinct inferior quality drew to a halt before the main entrance.
“Were we expecting anyone?” Georgiana inquired, setting aside her embroidery.
“Not to my knowledge.” Lady Eleanor rose to observe the visitor more clearly. “Though the quality of the conveyance suggests someone of modest means rather than a social caller.”
The butler’s entrance confirmed their speculation. “Lady Eleanor, there is a gentleman requesting an audience regarding matters of considerable importance to the household. He claims to have information about documents pertaining to… family concerns.”
Elizabeth’s pulse quickened at the deliberately vague phrasing. “What name did he give?”
“Mr. George Wickham, madam. He requests privacy for his discussion with Lady Blackmore, claiming the matters are of a delicate nature.”
The silence that followed this announcement was profound. Elizabeth could feel Mary’s sharp gaze upon her, while Georgiana’s face had gone pale at the mention of Wickham’s name. Lady Eleanor turned from the window, her expression stony.
“Shall we hear him out?” she asked.
“Absolutely not,” Mary said. “Under no circumstances should that man be received in this house.”
“I agree,” Georgiana added quickly. “Nothing good can come from any association with Mr. Wickham.”
Elizabeth, however, found her mind racing. Wickham’s appearance at Bellfield could only mean desperation had driven him to attempt some final gambit. No matter her personal opinions, Wickham had information, perhaps twisted, but still useful .
“I believe we should receive him,” Elizabeth said.
Three pairs of eyes turned toward her with expressions ranging from shock to alarm.
“Elizabeth,” Lady Eleanor said carefully, “I hardly think?—”
“Hear me out,” Elizabeth interrupted, rising to pace the length of the drawing room as her plan took shape. “Wickham would not dare approach this household unless he possessed something he believed to be valuable. Judging from the shabby coach, he appears to be in dire need of funds.”
“We’ve already established that he knows nothing,” Lady Eleanor said. “Or so he claims.”
“Then he most definitely knows a lot about my circumstances,” Elizabeth said. “George Wickham is nothing if not thorough. He portrayed himself as the steward of Pemberley after Darcy was attacked. I suspect he made off with documents as Darcy’s pockets were empty when he was found.”
“Even if that were true,” Mary pointed out, “what would prevent him from simply taking whatever payment he demands and disappearing again?”
“Because I intend to be present during his interview with Lady Eleanor,” Elizabeth replied with growing conviction.
“Wickham believes me to be a discredited woman grateful for any assistance in legitimizing my position. If I play the role of desperate supplicant, he may reveal more than he intends while attempting to establish the value of whatever he offers.”
Lady Eleanor’s expression shifted from alarm to grudging consideration. “You propose to deceive him into incriminating himself?”
“I propose to discover exactly what documents he possesses and how he came by them,” Elizabeth corrected. “Information that Mr. Darcy and Graham can use to ensure Wickham faces appropriate consequences for his crimes.”
Georgiana shook her head vehemently. “It is too dangerous, Elizabeth. Wickham is not to be trusted under any circumstances. ”
“Which is precisely why we must extract whatever information we can while the opportunity presents itself,” Elizabeth replied. “Mary, would you take William to the nursery? I would prefer he remain well away from this interview.”
Mary took William’s little hand. “Shall we play on your rocking horse?”
“And I shall position myself where I can observe without being seen,” Georgiana added. “Close enough to summon help if needed.”
Elizabeth nodded gratefully. “Lady Eleanor, shall we?”
“If you believe it may advance our cause, I am prepared to follow your lead,” Lady Eleanor replied. “Though I reserve the right to terminate the interview if circumstances become uncomfortable.”
Elizabeth composed herself and followed Lady Eleanor to the drawing room, adopting a posture of exceeding sadness and despair.
Tea was served, and when Wickham was finally admitted to the drawing room, Elizabeth had to blink twice at the change.
Time had not been kind to him; though still handsome, his features had taken on a sharper edge, his once-immaculate attire showing signs of careful economy.
His smile, however, remained the same—practiced charm masking calculation.
“Lady Eleanor,” he said with a bow. “I am deeply honored by your willingness to receive me. And Miss Elizabeth!” His expression brightened. “How delighted I am to see you looking so well after your… trials.”
Elizabeth rose and offered him her hand with what she hoped appeared to be grateful warmth. “Mr. Wickham! I confess I am astonished to see you.”
“Indeed, I have feared our paths might never cross again,” Wickham replied. “Though I have often thought of you since, wondering how you fared after the unfortunate events that led to your departure from Longbourn.”
“Your concern is most touching,” Elizabeth said, settling herself in her chair with the air of someone grateful for any display of kindness.
“As you can see, I have been most fortunate in finding refuge with Mr. Darcy’s family.
Lady Eleanor’s charity has been the salvation of both myself and my son. ”
Wickham’s eyes sharpened at the mention of William, though his expression remained sympathetic. “Yes, I had heard of your… circumstances. Such a difficult situation for any young woman to navigate alone.”
“Indeed it has been so,” Lady Eleanor interjected smoothly. “When I last interviewed you, you had suggested an investigation on behalf of Miss Bennet. Although you claim to have no distinct knowledge of the events that transpired, I am most eager to hear of your progress.”