Page 17 of Reckless, Headstrong Girl (Pride and Prejudice Variations #5)

EAST OF ST GILES ROOKERY, LONDON

G eorge Wickham lay in bed—pale and sweating—with a red streak spreading from his neck to his ear.

Darcy spoke calmly in an almost disinterested way. “Well, George. Here you are.”

“As you see, Darcy. To what do I owe the honour? Does Georgie miss me?”

“Your swagger does you credit. I am told you are very ill.”

“It is the knackers for me, Darcy. As you see.” He gestured weakly at his suppurating wound.

Mr Gardiner and Mr Bennet stood gravely in the shadow at the edge of the room. Darcy could feel their impatience with his casual interview, but he knew Wickham far too well to even think of goading him just yet. Darcy pulled up a chair and sat down.

“Did someone stab you?” he asked, feigning interest .

“The witch bit me,” Wickham said with a chuckle that devolved into a painful cough.

Darcy brought the water glass from the bedside table and put it to Wickham’s lips.

“It was kind of Mrs Younge to take you in. Has she brought a doctor to see you?”

“A quack she knows. Says I am done for.”

“I am sorry. Can I get you anything then?”

Wickham’s fevered eyes focused on Darcy for the first time. “What brings you to my bedside all charity for once? Are we to be old friends again, Darcy?”

“I want to know where you set Lydia Bennet down.”

“Ah.” Wickham closed his eyes and seemed to go to sleep. A minute later he opened his eyes and said, “What is it worth to you?”

“A very great deal, George. Do you want a better doctor? To be moved to an infirmary? A pretty pair of nurses?”

“Nurses,” he said with a faint grin, “and a bottle of good brandy.”

“Is that wise?”

“Surgeon says I would only hasten the end with drink. I am not inclined to linger, Darcy.”

“Where did you set Lydia Bennet down?”

For a full minute, Wickham lay silent, and Darcy wondered whether he would have to throttle him to get an answer. At last he roused and said, almost abstractedly, “I cannot remember…we left Brighton and had not been gone even an hour up the road. ”

“What happened?”

“Brandy, Darcy.”

Darcy looked once at the doorway where his footman stood. The man nodded and left. “On its way, George.”

“She was jibber-jabbering about being Mrs Wickham. I was annoyed. I only wanted to stop her talking.”

“And? Are you telling me you imposed yourself on her?”

“Well, I would have, only she did not like it. She bit me. I lost my temper, stopped the coach, and pushed her off. That is the truth of it, I swear. She may as well have murdered me for it.”

“You did not think you should tend to your wound?”

“Never occurred to me. Quack says a bite wound may as well be a poisoned arrow. I should have gotten a tumble at least for the revenge she dealt out.”

Darcy could hear a shuffling at the back of the room and saw Mr Gardiner restrain Lydia’s father. He turned calmly back to Wickham. “Well, you did leave her on the road in the middle of the night, and she has not been seen since. Perhaps, you might call it even.”

Wickham smiled wanly and subsided into unconsciousness. More than a quarter hour later, the footman returned with two bottles of brandy and a charwoman, who waited in the hall for the gentlemen to leave.

Darcy roused Wickham and poured out a glass. “Do you have any recollection at all of where you might have left Miss Lydia on the road, George?”

“Hickstead,” he said. “There was a cross post some few miles north of there. I have caused you a bit of trouble, have I not?”

“Trouble, money and worse. Let me sit you up now so you can sip your brandy like a gentleman.”

“Cheers, old man. Happy I could oblige you by dying.”

“I will not say I am glad of it, George. You could have been something more. If you need anything, have Mrs Younge send a note.”

“I will need a nice send off, Darcy.” For the first time, the swagger slipped and Wickham’s eyes shone with something akin to fear. “Do not let them put me somewhere unmarked, will you?”

“I will see to it. I promise.”

Later that evening, Darcy, Mr Gardiner and Mr Bennet convened in Darcy’s library to commiserate. “You were very kind to that man,” Mr Bennet said with a tinge of bitterness.

“I cannot account for it, sir. I have itched to kill him for a year at least, but when we were boys, we were very good friends. I suppose I saw that boy lying there facing his end. If I have offended you, I am sorry for it.”

“Well, I have no place to say anything. It was my daughter who ran off with him. He did not take her by force.”

“But she is young, and he is a very charming man. Lydia Bennet cannot be held to blame.”

“No, I suppose not. But I can. Lizzy warned me not to let her go to Brighton. ”

“And hindsight is two dozen to the penny!” Mr Gardiner interjected. He looked tired and on the verge of becoming overtly irritable. “The point is we must find her.”

“I will offer up my thoughts if I may?” Darcy said. They looked at him expectantly.

“Mr Bennet had better go home. Your family will need you. And if by some chance Lydia finds her way to Longbourn, you should be there.”

“You give me the easy job, do you Mr Darcy?”

Mr Gardiner answered for Darcy. “My sister is at Longbourn, and she in no fit state, Thomas. Your daughters are trying to stem the flow of gossip and to deter my other sister from visiting. I would not call that the ‘easy’ job. You should go home and do what you can to stop any rumours for the sake of your remaining girls.”

Mr Bennet was also weary and irritable. “Just what do you suggest?” he barked. “How am I to keep my daughter’s disappearance from being talked of?”

“Go out visiting as if nothing untoward has happened. Write to Colonel Forster and make sure he has not let the gossip in Brighton swell. And for heaven’s sake, keep Fanny from talking to anyone! Take her on a medical trip—I do not know, but do something! My nieces are frantic and alone.”

After a heavy pause, Darcy spoke again. “Mr Gardiner, I think, since you are a London man, you should hire some men to begin a methodical inquiry here. Do you know the sort I mean? ”

“I do. I shall need a sketch of Lydia. I believe my wife has pencil portraits of all her nieces at home.”

“I shall go to Hickstead and fan out either side, down the tracks and lanes, speaking to anyone I find. We should meet here again one week from today, gentlemen,” Darcy said gravely, and with that, their meeting concluded.