Page 21 of The Gossip War (Pride and Prejudice Shorts #1)

I was reluctant to meet Wickham after I received his note, and doubly reluctant to bring Elizabeth as he suggested, but needs must.

I grew up with George Wickham. He could charm the birds from the trees, was slippery as a snake, and lied like a fox. He was trouble, and I told Elizabeth in no uncertain terms that she should not come within a yard of him, let alone speak.

That went about as well as you might expect!

She had seen him at the Philips supper, an event I did not expect, or I would have been there. Nothing happened except him sharing his usual sad tale to one more lady I would have to disabuse of his lies before he did some real damage.

I asked Elizabeth about the evening.

“Did Wickham single you out?”

“He would have had to find me first. I thought he might recognise me as your intended and stayed well clear of him. I know that parlour far better.”

“And?”

“Stop worrying, William. Had anything untoward happened to my sisters I would have told you, though with the recent changes in my mother, I would more likely tell you where to find his body.”

I laughed at that, and after the discomfort of having been… ah… instructed in what and where Elizabeth would and would not go or do, I was happy to be over the first lover’s tiff of our engagement. I doubted it would be the last.

“William, we must listen to what he has to say. He still has more ability to harm Georgiana than the Bingleys, and having both in the same village is…”

“…problematic,” I added hopefully.

“Extremely. I now regret we did not just send them packing Sunday.”

“Right or wrong, we did our best and must manage things are they are.”

She sighed, looked around to ensure we were unobserved, then gave me the chastest kiss in history on the cheek, but it was still enough to make my heart race.

~~~~~

Per Mr Bennet’s suggestion, we met in the one place he could not try to start gossip or malign Elizabeth’s reputation: dead-centre Meryton town square, in full public view.

If we stood around in a small circle, we could ensure nobody was close enough to eavesdrop, and there was a horse trough nearby that might be useful if I decided to drown him.

“Darcy. Miss Elizabeth.”

That answered the question of whether he paid attention to the introductions, though learning her name and relationship to me would not require any great feats of gossiping.

“Wickham.”

He looked nervous, and I suspect he had (correctly) surmised my patience was at an end. What he could not know is which punishment I had in mind, and for which crime. I had plenty to choose from. I suspected he would have already run, had there not been a deserter’s rope awaiting such action.

He licked what looked like dry lips, which was uncharacteristic for him. He was the coolest man under pressure I knew, a fact that no doubt accounted for his continuing ability to breath after a decade in the slums of London. He lived a hard-bitten life where few thrived for long.

“I do not suppose you will accept that I have finally reformed.”

Elizabeth replied with hard edge. “Does reform include seducing young maidens with made up tales of a denied living?”

He startled, which led me to believe it had taken him a couple of days to put our relationship together. I suppose he did not make the connection when Elizabeth met him because one look at my face probably convinced him I was about to run him over with my horse (not a bad idea).

“I suppose that does not cast me in a very good light.”

“No, it does not,” I snapped, already tired of his insolence.

He looked even more nervous.

“May I assume you have gathered some sort of evidence to bring me to heel, or perhaps finally decided to allow your cousin to finish me off.”

I wanted to smack him for speaking such vulgarities in front of Elizabeth, but she was not intimidated. “I could make your life extremely uncomfortable by simply detailing your history and your attempt to seduce Miss Long to her uncle. He is not known for his steady temper.”

“Come, come… that was not seduction. That story just—”

I snapped. “Stop this ridiculous discussion. We are immune to your charms. You asked us here for a reason, so get on with it!”

He looked the most nervous he ever had, and I could easily give a half-dozen examples where three stupid boys brought themselves an inch from death. That was one of the things that had made it hard for me to act against him.

Elizabeth said, “I know what you did last summer, Mr Wickham. I suppose you understand how close you are to the cliff edge?”

“I do, Mrs Darcy.”

Elizabeth startled, and I tensed, but he said, “No offence, Miss Elizabeth. I just thought you might like to know what your name would sound like.”

“Not on your lips,” I hissed, but Elizabeth remained calm.

“Out of curiosity, Mr Wickham,” she asked. “Suppose you had succeeded. What would you have done with the money?”

“Waste it on gambling and—” I answered, but thought I should quit while I was ahead. Elizabeth was no wilting flower, but there was no need to be explicit.

Wickham surprised me. “That is not true, though I doubt you would believe me if I told you.”

“Try me!” I snapped, for reasons I could not fathom.

“I would buy an estate and settle down to be a gentleman. It is all I ever wanted.”

I stared at him hard enough to peel paint, but he did not back down.

“Your father was a good man, but he did not understand what it is like to give someone nine-tenths of what it takes to be respectable, then withhold the last tenth. He would have been kinder to give me nothing, or a tradesman’s education.”

That stunned me, but not for long.

“That sounds like an excuse. He gave you the education to be a clergyman, which is a good and respectable living; or to study the law as you suggested you might.”

“Would you be a clergyman?” he snapped, and I paused just long enough to give him an edge.

“I thought not,” he continued, as if he had just won that battle. Perhaps he had.

Elizabeth asked, “I have a hard time believing that Mr Wickham.”

“I would too, Miss Elizabeth. Nobody should ever trust a man like me, but you asked, and I answered. It is your choice whether you believe me or not. I wouldn’t.

We were getting far off track. “Let us get back to it. Why did you call us here? What do you want?”

“Same thing I always did… a way to be a gentleman.”

“The closest you will get to a gentleman is a cellmate in Marshalsea.”

“I assumed as much, hence my request to parley.”

I was instantly suspicious, having been the victim of his schemes more times than I could count.

Elizabeth worked out the critical point first, as usual. “What have you to trade, Mr Wickham? You do not look like a man holding good cards.”

“Gamblers ought not show their cards prematurely, madam. I hold one good hand… probably the last I will be able to play, but play it I must.”

“What are you asking for?” I snarled, being tired of his tricks.

“I will give you something of supreme importance to you, and I will give my word to act like a gentleman in future, in exchange for enough funds to buy a small estate. There are ways you could ensure my compliance, but you have not because of the damage I could do.”

I snarled, “If you play the card I suspect you are—”

“No-no-no-no-no,” he said in a panic, as if desperate to keep me from even thinking about any threat to Georgiana. “I would never play that card!”

Once again, Elizabeth worked out his meaning before I did and answered with her customary bluntness.

“I suppose you are disinclined to an early rest in a pauper’s grave.”

“You understand me completely, Mrs… er… Miss Elizabeth.”

“You hold a different whip hand?”

“I do.”

While I would have liked to discuss it with Elizabeth privately, I just glanced, and she nodded. It seemed smart to see what his card was.

“How about a compromise. I assume you trust my honour?” I asked.

“I understand it is the only reason I am still breathing,” he said, making it the first honest words I had heard from his lips in years.

“Are you willing to trust Elizabeth to be a fair judge?”

He looked back and forth, and asked, “Did you?”

“I did and I do. She saved my life at a time when she despised me with good cause.”

Wickham chuckled. He had always been able to find humour in any situation. It was one of the things my father liked about him.

“Sounds like a love match. My hat is off to you. Never thought you had it in you, Darcy.”

I thought about telling him to keep his opinions to himself and may well have, but Elizabeth put her hand on my arm, which calmed me.

“I will accept her as a fair judge,” he said, as if he had any choice.

“Let us do this,” I suggested. “Show your cards. If you are not lying or trying to harm me and mine, I will allow you to walk away from this town and will refrain from hunting you down or allowing my cousin to do so. I will even pay off your commission, so you do not get hanged for desertion, which I assume you prefer to avoid.”

“Generous of you,” he replied insouciantly.

“If what you tell me is truly worthwhile, I will give you a suitable reward.”

“Suppose I tell you I am giving up a certain sum to give you this little gem. Will you commit to matching it, if we both know it is a sum you can afford.”

I was getting worried but nodded. It seemed fair enough. We shook hands for the first time since Cambridge.

“I suppose you had some sort of spat with that redheaded devil at Netherfield. There is no public scuttlebutt I could find in only a couple of days, though the timing of your engagement seems rather… unlikely… for a man of your character.”

I did not like the sound of that, since an alliance between Wickham and the Bingleys had been my worst nightmare for days.

“It was, but I do not choose to share details.”

“I would be disappointed if you did, old fellow,” he laughed, which reminded me of better times.

He seemed ready to play his hand and see what the pot held.