Page 39 of Out of His Wits (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
“It was at that point her story grew more elaborate and confused, in a manner that troubled me. As when she was first questioned, she claimed Tibby insisted upon gathering the more questionable varieties. She said she had warned her against it. Far too much detail, if you ask me—far too neat. One might think the whole tale had been well prepared in advance.”
“You do not believe her account?”
Mrs. Nicholls hesitated, then shook her head.
“I am afraid I do not, sir. Bet’s always been sharp as a pin, that one - never misses a chance to better herself.
But our Tibby, she’s timid as a mouse, wouldn’t say boo to a goose without someone telling her how.
The idea that Tibby would cross Bet after being warned off - well, it goes against everything I have seen of the pair of them. ”
“A keen observation,” Darcy said with a nod. “Mrs. Nicholls, there is something further I must disclose—something which, I believe, will support your misgivings. The officer to whom Bet referred is not, in fact, the man he claims to be.”
He proceeded to recount how he had come to recognise Wilkins as Wickham. He confined himself to the essential particulars and made no mention of their history.
“The man styling himself Lieutenant Wilkins is, in truth, George Wickham—a gentleman of dubious reputation, now using an assumed name. I cannot yet speak with certainty as to his purpose, but there is cause to suspect he may have involved Bet in something of a troubling nature, perhaps without her full comprehension.”
Mrs. Nicholls’s face went pale. “Dear Heaven! Someone tricked our Bet into gathering those mushrooms?”
“It may be so. Whether she understood the full consequences of her actions remains to be determined.”
“Where is Bet now?” Elizabeth asked.
“Still in service, miss. Sent to work in the scullery and the dairy. Much subdued since the magistrate’s inquiries. She keeps to herself and has little conversation with the other servants.”
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth said, “she has begun to comprehend the true nature of her situation. If she believed herself courted by a gentleman of honourable intention, discovering she had been misled would be most distressing.”
“Indeed,” Darcy replied grimly. “Wickham has long shown a particular aptitude for preying upon those whose trust is easily gained.”
Mrs. Nicholls regarded him with sharp attention. “You speak like you know him right well, sir.”
“Unfortunately, I do,” Darcy replied gravely. “Suffice it to say that George Wickham is a man of thoroughly disreputable character who has caused considerable harm to many.”
“Then poor Bet,” Mrs. Nicholls began.
Darcy addressed Mrs. Nicholls. “Could we to speak with Bet now? I believe she may have been misled in ways she does not yet understand.”
Elizabeth nodded and added. “She deserves to hear the truth, if it may be offered kindly.”
Mrs. Nicholls hesitated only a moment. “Yes, of course. I shall fetch her at once.”
As Mrs. Nicholls departed, Elizabeth turned to Darcy with clear curiosity, but he merely said quietly, “Perhaps we might discuss the particulars of Wickham’s character more fully at another time, Miss Elizabeth.
For now, it is sufficient to know that his reputation for deception is well-established. ”
Bet followed Mrs. Nicholls into the room, dragging her feet and clutching at the folds of her apron.
At the threshold, she paused, casting a furtive glance back.
Her complexion was greyish; her sharp features pinched with exhaustion.
Bet swayed slightly before crossing the floor in halting steps.
Her mouth pressed together with apprehension, and her gaze darted from face to face.
Mrs. Nicholls addressed her in a kind, steady voice. “There now, Bet. Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet have a few questions, concerning the gentleman you spoke of. You need not be afraid, my girl. Perhaps you were deceived—much as poor Tibby was.”
Bet gave no reply. She remained rigid, eyes downcast, her hands twisting ever more tightly in the cloth.
Darcy, standing a pace behind the chair, addressed her with grave restraint. “No one here wishes you harm. We seek only the truth.”
At the sound of his voice, Bet visibly flinched.
Her hands clenched more tightly, and her breath came faster.
She shook her head once, sharply. “I ought not to say anything,” she mumbled.
“I were told not to speak. He told me the gentleman here is not one to trust. He said it would all be well—he promised—”
Her voice cracked. She swallowed hard and shook her head.
Darcy’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing. The girl was trembling.
Elizabeth met his eyes—only a glance—but it sufficed. Darcy spoke with quiet dignity. “I believe my presence is doing more harm than good. If you will excuse me.”
He bowed and withdrew. Bet drew a shaky breath the moment he was gone, her shoulders lowering by degrees.
After a few moments, Elizabeth approached slowly and seated herself opposite Bet, speaking as though they were alone.
“I do not ask you to betray anyone,” she said.
“Only to help us make sense of what has already occurred. If you were misled, you are not to blame. But Tibby stands accused, and if no one speaks on her behalf, she may suffer punishment most grievous—perhaps even transportation—for an offence she did not knowingly commit..”
Bet’s throat worked as she swallowed. Her eyes filled. She blinked the tears away with force.
“I thought—he cared for me,” she said hoarsely.
“He said it was nothing but a bit of mischief. Merely a means to humble that one, he said—” Bet cast a narrowed glance toward the door Mr. Darcy had used.
“Said he was proud and hard-hearted, and deserved what came to him. But then Tibby—” Her voice cracked.
“I never meant for her to be caught up in it.”
“He meant to marry me. Said he would make it all right in the end. He said I was clever, and no one would be the worse for it. But Mr. Hurst was like to die, and all of them so dreadfully ill.” Her voice faltered, but she continued.
“He said Mr. Darcy was the sort of gentleman who would see a girl like me turned off without a reference. That if I spoke a word, the blame would fall on me.”
Elizabeth reached for Bet’s hand and held it lightly. “I see. How were you to help him?”
Bet’s eyes flicked to the door, then to Elizabeth. “He showed me the other mushrooms to gather and said get them into the kitchen in the basket under the proper ones. Tibby were to do the chopping, not me. He said it were better that way, that I should stay clear so no one would ask questions.”
She paused, then added with visible shame, “He said Tibby would not mind, so long as I told her it was cook’s idea.”
Elizabeth gave a soft, steady nod. “You were frightened, and he made use of that. But you are speaking now, and that takes far more courage than silence. How did you know where to gather the mushrooms?”
“He-he showed me the patch, the ones to gather, when he came by early. He promised it would only make one man poorly for a short while! It was because he cheated him out of his rightful place and had it coming. A proud, wicked gentleman staying at Netherfield did him out of a living worth a thousand pounds. His old master promised it to him when he was dying, but the son gave it away to someone else just to spite him! He said he could make that gentleman settle a fortune on him for what he did and then he could marry where he wished.” Bet’s voice grew more agitated.
“Whilst we were walking out in the back field, he showed me plain as day which ones to take. He said that he could tell the ones that would make a fellow queasy but nothing dangerous!” Bet’s words came through her tears.
“But when Mr. Hurst nearly died, and all of them so dreadful ill, I knew right then he’d played me false about everything! ”
“Everything?” Elizabeth prompted.
Bet’s face flushed with shame. “He told me he loved me, miss! He promised we’d be wed as soon as he could sort matters out proper.
A gentleman had to be careful- about such things, couldn’t just marry without getting the business arranged first!
” She dabbed her eyes with her apron. “I believed him, miss. Believed every lying word!”
Elizabeth and Mrs. Nicholls exchanged sympathetic glances, and Mrs. Nicholls handed Bet a clean handkerchief.
“What happened after that?” Elizabeth asked softly.
“I tried to speak to him—after it all went wrong—he turned right cold. Said I was foolish to suppose there was ever any understanding between us. He laughed at me! He said he would never wed a servant girl, when he could marry for a fortune. And if I tried to cause trouble, no one would believe a word I said over an officer’s.
” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He will not even look at me now, miss. Not even when I—when I—.” She could not finish the sentence, but her meaning required no further explanation.
“I am so very sorry, Bet,” Elizabeth said with true compassion. “You have been cruelly deceived.”
At these words, Bet’s fragile composure collapsed. Her shoulders gave a sudden heave. Tears spilt in earnest, unchecked and noiseless at first, then with the low, broken sobs of one who realises too late that all she trusted was false.
Mrs. Nicholls moved to comfort her with maternal solicitude. The housekeeper’s expression suggested she understood more than had been explicitly stated.
“There, there, child,” Mrs. Nicholls said gently. “We shall speak privately later about your situation.”
When Bet’s sobs had quieted somewhat, Mrs. Nicholls spoke again, her tone gentle but firm.
“Bet,” she said, “I know it pains you to recall these matters, but we must ask—what precisely did he instruct you to do? Any detail, however small, may assist in bringing him to account.”