Page 18 of An Interrupted Proposal
Darcy forced himself to relax and shrugged. “I repeat, what do you want, Wickham?”
“I want what I am due. You owe me, Darcy.” He sneered. “You wouldn’t want me to tell anyone about what happened last summer.”
“Be careful what you ask for, George. You say you want what you are due?” Darcy arched a brow and smiled before opening a drawer and withdrawing a sheet of paper. He placed it on the desk in front of Wickham.
“What is that?”
“A list of your debts which I have purchased over the years in Lambton, Cambridge, London, and now Meryton. It is quite a sum.”
Wickham lost some of his bluster. “What are you saying, Darcy?”
“I am saying that what you aredueis a stay in debtor’s prison, George.Ioweyounothing.Youon the other hand . . .” He gestured towards the paper.
“Your father––”
“Would be disappointed in what you have become. He gave you every opportunity, George, and you have squandered them all.” Darcy sat back in his seat. “Now, what is it you want me to do?”
“You would truly send me to prison?”
“I tire of this game, George. I wish to live my life without the possibility of you reappearing to turn everyone’s lives upsidedown.” He leant forwards and met Wickham’s gaze directly with a cold glare. “I want you to go away. Permanently.”
Wickham’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I have no means–”
“I am long beyond caring.”
The door to the study swung open and Philip entered the room. “Wickham!” he cried. “What a . . .” he winked at Darcy, “surprise.”
Wickham jumped from his seat, causing the chair to teeter before settling back into place. “What are you doing here?”
“I am visiting my cousins,” Philip laughed. “I shall not ask why you are here as I am certain I already know. Trying to extort more money from Darcy?”
Wickham attempted to smooth his features and regain his devil-may-care air. “We are all old friends here––”
“No,” Philip said in a dangerously low voice. “It has been many years since we have been friends.”
Wickham returned his attention to Darcy, but one eye remained on Philip. “How shall I live? Darcy, I would be forced to––”
“Work for a living?” Darcy sat back in his seat once more. “In truth, I care not how or if you live, Wickham, as long as I never see you again.”
“What if I leave England?”
The cousins exchanged glances. “That would be acceptable. Where would you go? And how, as you have no money.”
“Iam wondering how you are here in London. Does Colonel Forster know you have left Meryton?” Philip took a menacing step towards Wickham. “You realize desertion during wartime is a hanging offense.”
Wickham’s Adam’s apple bobbed once more. “He sent me to London with dispatches. I am being dismissed from the militia.”
The cousins exchanged another glance as Philip asked, “Caught you in his wife’s bed, did he?”
Wickham’s countenance paled. “No. With the tales being told by the merchants in Meryton, Colonel Forster thought it best that I remove myself from the area.”
“That would not explain a dismissal.” Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Whathaveyou done, Wickham?”
“The blacksmith’s daughter is saying I took her virtue, but I swear I never touched the girl. She is a hulking thing, more manly than any dandy here in town. I couldn’t have.” He grimaced.
“The blacksmith?” Darcy shook his head. “Not a man I would want to cross.” He looked at Philip. “Did you meet him while we were in Meryton? You and I could stand behind him and no one would know we were there.”
“I did. Saw his daughter, as well. She was exceedingly upset as she had learnt her dear friend, the innkeeper’s daughter, was with child and the soldier was denying it was his.”
