Page 84 of The Shades of Pemberley

It was a tangled web and no mistake. Darcy had never dreamed of such wickedness preceding his installation as the master of this estate.

There was no one in his past like Wickham, for Darcy had always chosen his friends with care, never stinting in ensuring they possessed a high degree of morality.

This business of Mr. Wickham was, he supposed, no stain on the former master of Pemberley, for the cancer attached to the estate had been reared there.

Yet he had paid the price for that association with his very life.

“Then where do we stand?” asked Mr. Bennet.

The look Fitzwilliam directed at Darcy contained a question, and Darcy understood it at once. Though he had thought to keep the matter a secret, there was no reason not to tell his companions, men he would trust with his life. It may even be dangerous to keep the knowledge from them.

“The situation has changed, though Wickham cannot know it,” said Darcy. “Not only is the entail on Pemberley ended, but Elizabeth is with child.”

Bingley grinned his delight, but the right of response belonged to Bennet. “That is excellent news, Darcy, and welcome to you, I am certain. Elizabeth’s mother will be pleased; or have you already told her?”

“Elizabeth went to her mother when she noticed something altered,” said Darcy.

“Of course, she did,” agreed Bennet. “You are correct—this changes matters significantly.”

“So much that you must now take great care,” said Fitzwilliam. “As Wickham knows nothing of this, he may attempt something more direct than he contemplated with Jameson.”

“Does he know the entail is no longer in force?”

Fitzwilliam shook his head. “That is a question we cannot answer. If he does, he may still try to get at Georgiana for her dowry. If not, then you would be his target on the assumption that Georgiana would now be in line to inherit.”

“He may contemplate many actions,” said Bennet. “Any of the girls would do for ransom, for example.”

“I think he no longer considers Pemberley a viable option,” opined Bingley.

When all eyes turned to him, Bingley explained: “Given what has happened, he is uncertain. If removing Darcy were his intention, he had ample opportunity to attempt it in London, yet he focused all his attention on Mrs. Younge and Georgiana.”

After eyeing him for several moments, Fitzwilliam gave a curt nod. “Yes, Bingley, I suspect you are correct. Therefore, I need to go to London again.”

“Mrs. Younge?” asked Bennet.

“She is our only link to Wickham,” said Fitzwilliam. “We need confirmation of our conjecture, and she is the one who can provide it.”

Fitzwilliam turned to Darcy. “Tomorrow, muster a force of footmen and the men we brought from London to scour the area for any sign of Wickham. If he is involved, he would not give up his designs because we left London—he will wish to be nearby to seize any opportunity that presents itself.”

Darcy nodded. “There will be men among them who know Pemberley well. I shall rely on them to lead the search.”

“Can I suppose Mrs. Younge’s quarters are untouched?”

“As I instructed Mrs. Mayfield.”

“Good. Before I confront Mrs. Younge, I wish to search that room myself and see if I can discover anything.”

“The question is,” said Bennet, “should we inform the rest of the family of our suspicions?”

“Perhaps the ladies only,” said Darcy. “Elizabeth, Mrs. Bennet, my mother, and perhaps Jane should know, but I see no occasion to alarm the girls any further. They already know something of the situation.”

“Then let us proceed,” said Mr. Bennet.

THE FIRST TASK AFTER the meeting was to send an express to Lord Matlock in London.

While Fitzwilliam meant to interrogate Mrs. Younge himself, warning his father would allow the earl to take action to search for Mr. Wickham against the possibility that he was still in town.

How likely that was, none of them could say, but it was prudent.

“I shall ride to London,” said Fitzwilliam when Darcy asked. “I can make better time than if I take a carriage.”

“The journey will be much less comfortable,” warned Darcy, though understanding his point.

“In some ways, yes, though I have never found much comfort in a carriage. Regardless, I deem speed to be critical.” Fitzwilliam fixed him with a stern glare. “Remain vigilant while I am gone, for there is every chance that Wickham is skulking about looking for an opportunity.”

“Do not concern yourself, Fitzwilliam,” said Darcy. “I know what is to be done.”

His expression softened, and Fitzwilliam nodded. “Well do I know it. With any luck, I will return to Pemberley before Wickham can make his move. If I do not trust the men you hired to deal with him, and Thompson is here. I shall return the moment I can.”

The following morning, after he departed, Darcy set into motion the search of the property as Fitzwilliam had suggested.

While they might have been tipping their hand and warning Wickham they suspected something of his activities, their actions were opaque enough to suggest it was nothing more than a precaution.

While they had done their best to say nothing about their going, anyone targeting them, whether Wickham or someone else, must know that the intrusion and the discovery of the spy prompted their removal from town.

It was a chess match between two foes, though altered because neither had full view of the board.

“There is nothing you can do about it but wait, Darcy,” chided Mr. Bennet that morning.

Darcy had gathered with Bennet and Bingley in the study while they awaited word from the searchers.

There was no expectation of any success in finding Mr. Wickham or anyone else who should not be on Pemberley’s lands, but if he was anywhere nearby, they should at least discover some evidence of his presence, perhaps in a recently used firepit or a cottage that should be empty, showing recent signs of habitation.

Darcy had wished to lead the search himself, but Fitzwilliam had opposed it, and Bennet had persuaded him it was far safer to remain within the house.

“You should not set foot out of this house until we know it is safe,” said Bennet when he argued his position.

“Once we know Wickham is nowhere nearby, it should be safe so long as you stay nearby. For the nonce, have Moore handle all tenant concerns and preserve yourself for your wife, who will not be at all happy with me if I allow you to perish in some foolhardy way.”

Trust Mr. Bennet to make a jest at a moment of such gravity.

Were anyone to ask, Darcy would state his appreciation for his friend and his father-in-law, both of whom possessed spirits that were far lighter than his own.

This waiting was still not conducive to peace of mind, leaving Darcy irritable and restless.

“I understand part of Darcy’s distraction,” said Bingley. “If you were involved with the search, you would learn much more about the estate you have now inherited.”

“Yes, I suppose I would,” said Darcy, “though I had not considered it that way. It is the waiting and worrying that threatens to drive me to madness.”

“Then engage yourself in something that will distract you,” suggested Bingley. “What say you to a game of billiards?”

“I do not suppose that will distract me much,” muttered Darcy.

“Come, Darcy, I insist. It is better than pacing the floor.”

“Be off with you, then,” said Mr. Bennet, shooing them from the room. “I shall allow you to distract yourself, for I am already pleasantly engaged.” Mr. Bennet held up a book as proof. “I do not need to wear holes in Pemberley’s finely appointed carpets.”

Little though Darcy thought he would benefit from it, he allowed Bingley to lead him from the room. Anything was better than this waiting with no notion of when it would end.

“THE SEARCHERS FOUND nothing,” said William later that evening.

Elizabeth nodded, considering the day. First had been the surprise departure of Colonel Fitzwilliam for London, followed by the mustering of several search parties of men who scoured the estate for any sign of unauthorized presence.

William had taken Elizabeth and his mother aside and explained the reason for ordering his men onto the estate, speaking of their conjecture about the identity of the man who had entered the London house at night.

Elizabeth knew that Mr. Bennet had apprised his wife, and though they had left Mr. Bingley to decide whether to inform his sister, her behavior since had proven he had taken her into his confidence.

“Did you expect they would?” asked Elizabeth.

William grimaced. “Fitzwilliam believes Wickham is too crafty to be taken unaware, but if he had sheltered on the estate, there should be some sign of it.”

“That is a lot of ground to cover. If this Mr. Wickham knows the estate, he knows how to hide his tracks.”

There was no response, though Elizabeth knew her husband agreed.

The lack of any evidence of Mr. Wickham’s presence nearby did not encourage them at all, especially as no one in the family was familiar with the secrets of Pemberley.

Those footmen and others who had lived at the estate for years led the searches, which left them some confidence that it had been thorough, but no one who knew anything about the situation felt at all comfortable with matters as they stood.

“You will take care, will you not?”

A smile was William’s response, along with a squeeze of her hand.

“As it happens, I agree with Bingley—Wickham must know by now that the earl will never allow him to hold Pemberley. The danger, I suspect, is more for you and our sisters than for me. If Wickham can take a hostage, he can demand a sum for their return.”

“Then we must keep them close to home,” said Elizabeth. “If they are out on the grounds, he might take one of them, but entering the house is far more difficult.”

“That is what we are counting on,” agreed William.

“The more shocking part of this all is the notion that your cousin’s death was not an accident.”

“Those were my sentiments. I never wished to inherit Pemberley, and certainly not through such despicable means.”

“Yet you now have no choice,” said Elizabeth.

William shrugged. “Pemberley is now my responsibility. I will not shirk it.”

“Of course, you will not,” said Elizabeth, regarding the best man of her acquaintance with affection. “It is not in your nature to do anything other than your utmost duty.”

With a nod, William fell into contemplation, and after a few moments, spoke again. “Do you suppose we should have told the girls more than we did? Would it not be best to ensure they are on their guard to the maximum extent?”

“They are not deficient, William. Even Lydia, the most oblivious of them, is aware that there is some danger. I think we struck the correct tone, warning them of the possibility of danger to ensure they take care, but not speaking of the specifics. How do you suppose Georgiana would feel if we told her that her brother was murdered?”

The sigh with which he responded seemed to carry the weight of the world. “There is no reason to tell Georgiana anything more than she already knows. I would not wish to speak of matters of which we have only suspicion and no proof. If it is false, we will have upset her for no reason.”

“Yes, I agree. Let us cease to question ourselves, for we have done the best we could.”

The scene from earlier in the day returned to Elizabeth’s mind, and she could not help the giggle that escaped her lips, drawing her husband’s attention. William raised an eyebrow, a clear invitation to explain her thoughts. Elizabeth did not hesitate.

“It is just the way Miss Bingley acted tonight, especially after dinner. Why, I declare she was all but hovering over the girls.”

A chuckle escaped her husband’s lips. “I would not have taken her for the protective type.”

“Not at all! It appears there are unplumbed depths to our dear Miss Bingley.”

“Yes, I suppose there are.”

Elizabeth attempted a pout, though she was certain her trembling lips gave her mirth away to her perceptive husband. “Do you regret your rejection of all she offers?”

“No,” said William, drawing her close to him. “I have mentioned it before, Mrs. Darcy, but not only am I as happy as I can be with you, but I will not give you up for anything.”

“That is good, because I feel the same way.”

That night, those at Pemberley slept fitfully, for a storm appeared to be raging on the horizon.

Elizabeth suspected it may yet break over the estate.

Should they capture the odious Mr. Wickham before he could make his move, they would all rest easier.

The man had proven himself a cunning foe, however, such that she suspected it would not be a simple task.

Whatever else happened, Elizabeth was determined that he would not prevail.

Though William would do his utmost to protect her, their family, and their unborn child, Elizabeth was resolved that she would not be a passive bystander, a pawn in whatever Mr. Wickham’s game was.

When the moment came, Elizabeth would be ready, and she would act to protect them all from the man’s attacks.