Page 43 of Out of His Wits (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
“Coffee and more,” said Bingley, already directing a footman. “You must stay as long as duty allows.”
“My thanks,” he said, bowing. “I vow I will be no trouble.” A silence fell. The colonel regarded Bingley with a steady look which shortly communicated his wish to speak with his cousin alone.
“Well, then, I will leave you two to your business,” Bingley said, leaving the room and closing the door firmly behind himself.
“Darcy.” He turned to his cousin, his hand moving restlessly to his sabre hilt. “Where is the blackguard? I have a score to settle with that villain.”
“Richard, thank God you are here.” Darcy ceased his pacing, relief evident in his posture.
“The situation is far worse than I initially believed. Wickham—operating under the name Lieutenant George Wilkins—is among the militia. He has seduced a kitchen maid and orchestrated the poisoning that nearly killed Hurst.”
The colonel’s expression darkened. “I should have known he would surface again, eventually. Tell me everything.”
Darcy outlined the events: the mushroom poisoning, the wrongful accusation of Tibby Morrison, the discovery of Bet’s involvement, and finally her confession implicating the false lieutenant.
“A kitchen maid provided this intelligence?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, settling into a chair. “What manner of coercion was required to extract such information?”
“None.” Darcy’s reply was firm. “The magistrate concluded that the scullery was culpable, but that did not sit well with us. When questioned, she spoke of being directed by another kitchen maid. That maid, Bet Younge, confessed willingly once she understood the gravity of her actions. Of course, she is with child—Wickham’s child—and terrified of the consequences. ”
“You credit her word based on what evidence?”
“Circumstantial but sufficient. The mushrooms were gathered from a specific part of the grove Wickham showed her. The timing coincides with his arrival in Meryton. His tales of mistreatment at my hands were used to convince her. Her testimony rings true.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam studied his cousin with a thoughtful expression. “You have been busy.”
“Not I alone.” Darcy’s voice carried an odd note. “I have had assistance.”
“From Bingley, I presume?” the Colonel tilted his head in the direction of Bingley’s exit.
“Yes, in part. He of course assisted as the master of the estate, but I have had another effective confederate.” A pause. “From Miss Elizabeth Bennet. A gentleman’s daughter from a nearby estate.”
The colonel’s eyebrows rose. “A young lady? Darcy, surely you jest.”
“I do not jest. Miss Elizabeth has been invaluable to this investigation. Without her insight, we should never have obtained the maid’s confession.”
“A country gentleman’s daughter conducting criminal investigations?” The colonel’s tone conveyed his disbelief. “What could such a person possibly contribute beyond romantic speculation and gossip?”
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “Richard, you misjudge her entirely. Miss Elizabeth possesses a mind of remarkable acuity. She asked questions that revealed crucial information and earned the trust of witnesses who would speak to no one else.”
“Come now, Darcy. I understand you may feel grateful for any assistance during such a crisis, but surely you cannot mean to suggest—”
“I mean to suggest nothing. I state it as fact.” Darcy’s voice carried an edge of irritation. “Miss Elizabeth has demonstrated intelligence and abilities that would do credit to any magistrate. She has handled confidential information with absolute discretion and shown courage that—”
“Courage?” The colonel interrupted. “What manner of courage could be required of a drawing room miss?”
“The courage to question authority when an innocent girl faced transportation. The courage to persist when others would have accepted the convenient solution.” Darcy moved to the window, his reflection betraying emotions he struggled to contain. “She has been extraordinary.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam studied his cousin with growing attention. The passionate defence, the way Darcy’s voice softened when speaking of Miss Elizabeth’s qualities, the pride in her accomplishments—all pointed to feelings that extended far beyond grateful appreciation.
“I see,” he said quietly. “Tell me, Darcy—this Miss Elizabeth. What is her family’s situation?”
“Her father is a gentleman of small estate. Her mother-” Darcy hesitated. “Her mother is perhaps less discerning in matters of propriety. There are four other sisters, not all of whom demonstrate Miss Elizabeth’s superior judgement.”
“Yet you trust her with matters of the utmost delicacy.”
“I would trust her with my life.” The words were spoken quietly, but with absolute conviction.
The colonel nodded, his face blank, but with a lifetime of familiarity, Darcy could see the rapid calculation behind his cousin’s eyes.
“If you might spare a sheet and a pen, I will announce myself to the commander.”
Darcy rose from the writing table, cleared his documents, and gestured for his cousin to take his place.
His note quickly composed, Colonel Fitzwilliam rose.
“Perhaps I should greet my hostess- if only to beg a room for the night. I would far prefer it to bunking down in a barracks,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said.
The two proceeded to the drawing room, now occupied by Miss Bingley, Mr. Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.
Miss Bingley greeted him with enthusiasm. “Colonel Fitzwilliam—what a surprise, but a most welcome one. Netherfield is entirely at your disposal.”
Before Colonel Fitzwilliam could respond, Mr. Hegarty appeared in the doorway.
“Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet to see Mrs. Hurst, sir.”
Within minutes, Elizabeth, and Jane entered. They greeted the Bingleys and Mrs. Hurst, then paused upon seeing the military gentleman, waiting with proper deference for an introduction.
Fitzwilliam’s bow was delayed by half a beat. “I have been here but a moment, and already I find more to admire than I looked for,” he murmured for Darcy’s ear alone.
“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said, “may I present my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam of His Majesty’s — th Regiment. Richard, Miss Bennet, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
The sisters offered graceful curtsies and Elizabeth spoke. “Colonel Fitzwilliam. I am honoured to make your acquaintance.”
The colonel rose and bowed, studying the two with undisguised curiosity as he did so.
“A pleasure. I begin to understand my cousin’s good opinion of the neighbourhood.”
Jane offered a polite smile and a slight blush. Elizabeth gave a smaller one, her glance flicking from Darcy to Fitzwilliam and back again.
Miss Bingley set aside her needlework with an audible breath of disapproval. “How very pleasant. I do hope the roads were not too objectionable, Miss Elizabeth. One hates to arrive damp.”
Miss Bingley’s reference was not lost on Elizabeth. She smiled. “We are quite dry now, thank you. Surely glad of the breeze.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam, appearing to sense some tension in the room spoke. “I fear I have arrived unexpectedly this morning. A most fortunate impulse, as it turns out. It is always a pleasure to expand one’s acquaintance in such agreeable surroundings.”
Jane returned his greeting with her customary sweetness. “Colonel, I hope you enjoy your time in Hertfordshire.”
“I already find much to commend it,” Fitzwilliam replied lightly. “I fear Darcy has not had the opportunity to provide me with an introduction to the delights of the neighbourhood.”
Bingley glared towards the Colonel, a crease forming on his brow. “We are simple country folk, Colonel Fitzwilliam, but I trust you will find something here worthy of your attention.”
The Colonel’s smile was warm, his tone mildly teasing. “Indeed, Mr. Bingley, I see no reason to doubt it.” He turned again towards Jane. “Have you always resided at Longbourn, Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, Colonel,” Jane answered softly. “My sisters and I have always called it home.”
Fitzwilliam nodded appreciatively. “There is a steadiness, I believe, that comes from knowing one’s home intimately. It is a virtue much admired—and rare among those who live a military life.”
Bingley moved just a bit closer to Jane, his voice carefully genial. “Miss Bennet is indeed known for steadiness and many other admirable qualities.”
Fitzwilliam agreed smoothly, his smile unruffled, “I do not doubt it.”
Darcy, becoming aware of a perceptible tension in the room interrupted. “Miss Elizabeth, I wonder if we might ask your opinion—there was a matter concerning the tenants? If you are at leisure for a moment?”
Elizabeth immediately understood, her expression sobering. “Of course.”
Darcy gestured towards the door. “Your insights might prove invaluable. Richard, would you accompany us to the library?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam offered her his arm, which she took with a nod. Darcy turned towards Bingley, inclining his head. “We shall not be long.”
As they left, Darcy glanced back to see Bingley visibly relaxing, now attending exclusively to Jane, whilst Miss Bingley’s expression was fixed carefully into polite neutrality, her stitches made with surprising force
Once they had reached the library, the Colonel opened the conversation.
“Thank you for joining us, Miss Elizabeth. Darcy wrote requesting my assistance in a matter regarding the local militia.”
Darcy interjected. “We are well beyond that, Richard. I have informed Miss Elizabeth that Wickham is presenting himself as a Mr. George Wilkins.”
“Then we need a plan. I need to meet with the commander and determine the lay of the land, but if the blaggard spots me, he might bolt.”
Elizabeth moved to the table, her manner becoming businesslike. “For the nonce, it seems Mr. Wickham suspects nothing. Servants’ gossip, and word of Bet’s confession may reach him soon. We have perhaps a few days, no more, before he fears that he has been connected to the poisoning.”
“You speak as one familiar with his ways.”