Page 55 of Out of His Wits (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
“Yes. A Mrs. Arthur. Her husband is in the regiment. She is a gentlewoman; you can tell at once—but quite reduced. Her circumstances are dreadful—no maid, no carriage, not even a proper hearth—Her husband is a lieutenant, but she is all but destitute, yet still quite genteel. She is only two and twenty, I believe. Her manners are elegant, and her speech is very refined.”
Mrs. Forster gave her a dubious look. “Where did you make this remarkable acquaintance?”
“In the village. But she is not common or dull. She told me the most extraordinary stories about camp life and managing without servants.” Lydia tilted her head. “She reminded me a little of Jane.”
“Well, that is praise,” Mrs. Forster said, laughing lightly. “I suppose I might call on her, if she is respectable. Where does she live?”
“In a dreadful little cottage near the old lane, with chickens in the yard and a roof that leaks, but she is very tidy.” Her tone was light, but her gaze held. “She is clever. Quiet, but clever. You did say you were in need of society.”
Mrs. Forster hesitated. “I shall consider it. I suppose I might call. If only to see whether she might keep me company once we reach Brighton. If she is clever enough to amuse you , she may be clever enough to amuse me.”
Lydia smiled and rose. “You will not regret it.”
Later, as she returned home, Lydia’s thoughts lingered on Mrs. Arthur—the small room, the pinched fire, the calm grace with which she had spoken.
The impressions had not left her. She would ask all her sisters to go through their things.
There were gowns they did not wear, bonnets gone out of style, slippers too narrow or more suited for muddy lanes.
Even Mamma had a lace cap she no longer favoured.
. A few items would do. Perhaps—perhaps—it would feel like enough.
The three men gathered in Bingley’s study at Netherfield the morning after the fruitless interview with Colonel Forster.
“Since the lawful authority has abdicated its responsibilities,” Darcy began without preamble, “we must determine what measures are available to us.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded grimly. “I have given this considerable thought since yesterday. Our options each carry distinct advantages and risks.”
Bingley, who had heard with growing dismay to their account of Forster’s negligence, leant forward. “I find myself somewhat uncomfortable with the entire enterprise. Are we not essentially taking the law into our own hands?”
“There is a distinction,” Darcy replied firmly. “We do not act for our own gain, or without justification. We are taking steps to protect innocent people when those charged with that duty refuse to act.”
“No, indeed, such a man ought not to be allowed to harm the community.” Bingley said, “I shall support whatever course you deem necessary. Someone must ensure he is stopped.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam spread several sheets of paper before them. “I have divided our potential actions into categories. Shall we examine each in turn?”
Darcy nodded and pointed to one sheet. “Financial pressure seems the most immediate possibility. Wickham has always been vulnerable through his gaming habits.”
“I have made discreet inquiries,” the Colonel said. “He owes considerable sums to at least three establishments in Meryton alone. If we were to purchase those debts, and combine them with what Darcy holds already, we might have him imprisoned at Marshalsea.”
“How considerable?” Bingley asked.
“Well over one hundred pounds, by my calculation, just in debts to the Meryton establishments.”
Bingley whistled softly. “On a lieutenant’s pay? He could not pay that in ten years. The man is either remarkably cunning or remarkably foolish.”
“Or cheating unsuccessfully,” Darcy observed.
“Which brings us to the question of his creditors elsewhere. Since he is indeed using a false name, his previous debts remain outstanding under his true identity. I hold a number of his debts in Derbyshire, and I am certain he left a trail behind him wherever he has been.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam consulted his notes. “I have contacts in London who could make those inquiries. Military records, creditors, previous lodgings. If we can establish a clear pattern of fraud and debt, we could present his creditors with his current location.”
“I quite see the necessity, but to summon his creditors… I confess I know little of how such matters are typically handled,” Bingley said slowly.
“It strikes me as justice,” Darcy countered. “Those men are owed money. They have a right to collect it. Would your father have allowed his bills to remain unpaid? The haberdasher does not run a charity.
“Of course not.” Bingley stiffened at the reference to his roots in trade, but the logic could not be refuted.
“We must ensure we can prove his identity conclusively,” the Colonel added. “Which brings us to the matter of evidence gathering.”
Darcy nodded. “We need documentation of his activities, his false statements, his true identity. Without proof, we are merely spreading gossip.”
“I will inquire about someone reliable to shadow him,” Colonel Fitzwilliam suggested. “Document his movements, his associates, his habits.”
“One of your former sergeants?” Darcy asked.
“Precisely. Men accustomed to vigilance and discretion.”
“And this is… customary in such matters?” Bingley ventured.
“Entirely so,” the Colonel assured him. “It is better to gather evidence quietly than to risk his escape ere justice be pursued.”
“Or are we to wait until he has ruined another young lady?” Darcy said bitterly. “Or until his next attempt at poisoning brings about a death?”
“No, no—certainly not. Yet might it not be simpler to charge him directly with that offence? Have we proof enough to prove he poisoned our dinner party?” Bingley asked.
“That is the crux of it. We may have proof enough to satisfy reasonable men, but not this magistrate,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied.
“The timing, the symptoms, his presence around the household, his character, and patterns of conduct—are all compelling circumstances, but circumstances, nonetheless. I am as certain as one can be without absolute proof,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied.
“It beggars belief to call it a coincidence.”
Darcy leant forward in his chair. “Whilst we pursue him, we must consider precautions. As we obtain evidence, we must take care he is not afforded an opportunity to inflict fresh injury.”
“The Bennet family concerns me most,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “Miss Lydia in particular seems susceptible to his sort of charm.”
“I have considered how best to approach Mr. Bennet,” Darcy replied. “The gentleman is by no means deficient in sense, but he is inclined to dismiss concerns about his younger daughters.”
“Perhaps through Miss Elizabeth?” Bingley suggested. “She has considerable influence with her family, and she is already well acquainted with Mr. Wickham’s true history.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said slowly, “has troubles enough at present. I would not lay further anxieties upon her.” He paused, as if to steady himself.
“Let us proceed quietly. Fitzwilliam, your man must keep a close watch upon Wickham, but with the utmost discretion. If he should suspect he is observed, he will grow wary, perhaps even flee, and we may lose all chance of securing him. Worse still, he might attempt some desperate mischief to divert attention from himself.”
A silence followed, heavy with the weight of unspoken concerns, until Bingley said grimly, “He yet has champions among the gentry. Whilst we attempt to marshal our facts, he simpers and smirks his way into every drawing room in town.”
“Indeed,” Darcy agreed. “We thus arrive at the pressing subject of his removal from polite society. It would be best to see Wickham excluded from respectable gatherings.”
“I shall speak with the local hostesses,” Bingley offered. “I shall hint at concerns regarding his character, without resorting to particulars. A suggestion that his presence is not desirable should suffice.”
“Mrs. Phillips will prove the most difficult,” Darcy observed. “She appears much taken with him.”
“Mrs. Phillips responds to authority,” the Colonel said dryly. “A word from someone of consequence may serve.”
“Do you volunteer for that agreeable duty?” Darcy asked.
“Unless you would care to become accustomed to such tasks?” Colonel Fitzwilliam grinned at Darcy’s grimace.
Colonel Fitzwilliam tapped his pen against the table. “The question of higher military authority remains. Forster’s negligence is indefensible, however well his connexions have thus far shielded him.”
“Have you decided whom might you approach?” Darcy asked.
“I believe I shall speak with General Maxwell. He commands several county regiments. An honourable man. If supplied with evidence of Forster’s failure to pursue credible allegations, he would be bound to take notice.”
“He would act?” Bingley asked.
“At the least, he would inquire. That inquiry may suffice to expose Wickham’s false enlistment.”
Bingley looked up from the notes. “It grows into a considerable undertaking.”
“Wickham is a considerable threat,” Darcy replied. “He requires a comprehensive response.”
“Then what must be our first priority?” Bingley asked.
“Evidence,” said Fitzwilliam. “Without documentation, all else will be dismissed as malice, as Forster has already done.”
“I shall manage the financial inquiries, in Meryton and in Town,” Darcy said. “You arrange the surveillance and address General Maxwell.”
“I am best suited to speak with the merchants.” Bingley suggested.
“Just so,” Darcy agreed. “They will attend to you, as a gentleman of standing whose word carries weight in this neighbourhood.”
“What of questioning the servants?” asked the Colonel.
Darcy considered. “Fletcher has made some progress. He shall pursue further enquiries about the town. I shall contrive to send him into Meryton upon some errand.”