Page 64 of An Accidental Meeting
“Mr. Wickham means to charge your uncle, not me, Miss Lydia.” Darcy said, his voice carrying over the room. “He set your price at fifteen thousand pounds.”
Mrs. Gardiner gasped. “Why would he think we have such a sum?”
“Because you have ever so many warehouses,” Miss Lydia said, as though it were obvious.
“Did you know he was going to ask for money to wed you?” her aunt asked, incredulous.
“I did not think he would ask you, Aunt Gardiner. He said he would ask Mr. Darcy for the money he was owed, is all.”
The girl did not appear to understand how vast a sum fifteen thousand pounds was, and truly, Wickham would have settled for something far more reasonable had Darcy deigned to negotiate. But Wickham had played his cards ill, as he often did. Had he remained in London with the girl, he would have been in a much better position to make demands; there, he could have chosen a neighbourhood where he had friends and Darcy had little support, not to mention that Darcy would have been without the legal standing to forcibly remove Miss Lydia from Wickham’s presence. He could only have reported her whereabouts to her family.
But Wickham had come to Pemberley where her family was staying, dragging Miss Lydia along with him and expecting to be offered a room. It made no sense.
Unless the man was truly desperate.
“Well, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Lydia was petulant. “What have you to say about cheating Wickham?”
“Lydia,” Mrs. Gardiner said firmly. “Mr. Darcy has done no such thing. And it isMr.Wickham.”
“Oh, we are to be wed,” Miss Lydia said, waving a hand carelessly. “He promised we would be. It matters not what I call him.”
“Even if your uncle were willing to pay, Miss Lydia, Mr. Wickham would likely have that money spent in a few short years, and all on himself.”
“That is not true,” Miss Lydia stated, balling up her fists and placing them on her hips.
“He was given four thousand pounds not five years ago when my father died, and he was not even entitled to that much.”
“Four thousand pounds?” Gardiner repeated, dumbfounded.
“So much?” Mrs. Gardiner asked. “And yet he joined the militia? Whatever for?”
“I presume that he has lost it all at the gaming tables and in . . .” Darcy glanced at Miss Lydia, so foolish, yet so, so young—“other pursuits.” He turned back to Gardiner, who was now positively glowering. Good. “He might have been such a man even without my father’s favour, but we shall never know. He did have our family’s support. I shall need your assistance to bring him to heel once and for all.”
“Darcy,” Gardiner said with a sigh, turning his back to the women, “I appreciate your desire to curtail Mr. Wickham’s freedoms, but I must think of my niece.”
“Forgive me,” Darcy said, nearly whispering now, “but Iamthinking of Miss Lydia. A life married to that reprobate would be a misery.” Gardiner was defending all his nieces, not just the one in the room, and it was right that he should. “I know you wish to protect her, and that is laudable. But Wickham will not change simply because he is married. He would not be faithful, and while I do not believe he would abuse her physically, he is cruel in other ways.”
Gardiner’s distress was sharply edged with resolve. “What do you suggest, then?”
“We must put out the story that she came to see the two of you and her sister for some reason. That her flight northward was perhaps foolhardy, but not scandalous. And we must say that she is not even out.”
“What in the world could make that story believable?”
“First, that she is in fact no longer out—we can handle that with the help of your wife, my aunt, and the loan of a few gowns from my sister.” Darcy pressed his lips together. “Do you think Miss Lydia would be willing to wear them? They are very fine despite being more modest, and she and my sister are about the same size.”
Gardiner chuckled. “You are a crafty one, Darcy. I think she will take the bait. But that is the least that must be done. What reason can we possibly offer for such a journey?”
Darcy took a deep breath and released it slowly. “You and I had a conversation after dinner one night before my friend arrived, do you recall?”
Gardiner stared stonily at him. “Yet you have not spoken with Elizabeth.”
“No. I have been afraid she did not return my affections, and I would not ask before I could be certain.”
This resulted in a huff from Gardiner. “You two are a matched set.”
Darcy’s forehead creased. “I beg your pardon?”
Gardiner's gaze was steady. "I have been watching you quite carefully during our visit here. Your character seems fixed and honourable, despite your penchant to overspend on coaches. I could not understand your choice of my niece at first, for while she is a gentleman's daughter, you inhabit a position nearer to aristocracy. I feared perhaps your intentions were dishonourable." He held up his hand at Darcy's protest. "I felt safe enough to allow my wife and Elizabeth to remain in your house, but you cannot deny that those initial feelings were natural and just."
