Alias Thomas Bennet (39 page)

Bennet turned to address Wickham’s one-time accomplice. “I thank you, Mrs. Younge, for your help today.”

“You will pay for this, Bennet! And you too, you backstabbing woman!” Wickham said resentfully. “You have betrayed me too many times! I will be back for your betrothed, Darcy, and you will be sorry when she prefers me.”

“You will not be back for a long time, Wickham. You are a wastrel, a deserter, a horse thief and a kidnapper. You have used your friends ill and have violated their honour to pay for your extravagant lifestyle. If you escape the noose, or if you are not in the military prison for life, I will send you to a debtor’s prison for the promissory notes you have left behind. It is time you faced the truth: the game is up.” While Darcy made his speech, Elizabeth glowered at Wickham from her position in Darcy’s arms.

“Farewell then, Lady Elizabeth. I know you are marrying him because he is rich, but I also know that you wanted me first.”

Darcy released Elizabeth and moved as if to attack Wickham, but Bennet grabbed his arm. “Darcy, you know he is lying. Let it go.”

However, Elizabeth was not stayed and she stepped bravely toward the restrained criminal with her hands in fists and her lips pressed into an unforgiving line. Wickham could not help but be struck by her boldness after his efforts to terrorize her.

Elizabeth spoke fiercely, with only a small waver in her voice. “Mr. Wickham, you are mistaken if you think I could ever have any regard for you. From the first of our acquaintance, I was struck by your ill manners and arrogance, and it was not long before I found out your lack of sincerity and evil tendencies. You are a scoundrel and a cur. I was only prevailed upon to speak to you because I am a gentlewoman and could not forget my manners.”

With that, an incensed Elizabeth turned and headed to Gracechurch Street at a brisk, angry pace with a distinct frown on her face, her arms swinging forcefully. A shaken Wickham realized that not only had he failed in his efforts to kidnap her, but he had not the power over her that he had imagined. In short, even with his previous assault, she would not be cowed and held the upper hand. His ego deflated as he realized the position he was left in. He would have no revenge and would be the only one left in fear and anxiety at the end of the day.

“Fitzwilliam, do you mind escorting the ladies back to the Gardiner residence?” Darcy asked. “Bennet and I have unfinished business.”

The colonel dipped his head in acknowledgement and offered his arm to Mrs. Younge. They trailed closely behind Elizabeth, who was still in high dudgeon from the events of the morning. Darcy watched as his cousin caught up to his betrothed and was relieved when she took the colonel’s other arm before continuing along.

***

When Fanny Bennet saw her daughter being escorted to the house, she had to restrain herself from bursting into tears and rushing to Elizabeth, but she did not want to alarm her. Instead, she retired to the sitting room in a ladylike fashion, nervously smoothing her skirts. She had seen Elizabeth’s tight jaw and that she carried herself as if extremely vexed and was prepared to help calm her temper. But when Elizabeth burst through the door, the tension in her face broke, and Mrs. Bennet leapt to her feet as her daughter rushed into her arms. She held Elizabeth tightly and wanted never to let go, but at length she pulled away to look at her. Mrs. Bennet immediately saw the mark on Elizabeth’s neck and gasped while reaching out to inspect the injury. She once again nearly broke down but instead quickly summoned a maid to bring a bowl of warm water and some cloths. She held her daughter’s face in her hands and searched Elizabeth’s eyes.

“I am all right, Mama. There is no need to worry,” Elizabeth said with a voice that was intended to show confidence, except the tears threatening to spill from her eyes betrayed her.

“I am glad you are home, my love,” Mrs. Bennet replied softly, her voice breaking ever so slightly. She pulled her daughter back into her arms, closing her eyes and breathing a sigh of relief.

After a moment thus, Elizabeth pulled back from her mother’s embrace. Realising there was another person in the room, Mrs. Bennet composed herself. Elizabeth introduced the unknown gentleman as Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy’s cousin. Mrs. Bennet summoned the housekeeper to take Lady Elizabeth to Mrs. Bennet’s private bedchamber and to redirect the maid there to attend to her injury.

When they had left the sitting room, Mrs. Bennet returned her attention to her guest. She thanked him and attempted to offer refreshments, but he gave his regards and indicated there was another lady waiting in the hall for him to escort home. He politely excused himself and departed. The instant the door closed behind him, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, her breath coming in short gasps. The butler, concerned about her health, came to her side and assisted her to a chair, calling for salts. She waved him off, composed herself, and rushed to her daughter’s side.

When she entered the bedchamber, she found Elizabeth crying silently while the maid cared for her injury. She excused the maid, tenderly took her daughter in her arms and rocked her, soothing her while Elizabeth recounted the events of the day and responded to her mother’s gently worded questions. Although Elizabeth did not express her fear in so many words, rather focusing her anger at being imposed upon in such a way, Mrs. Bennet was sensible to the overwhelming feelings of helplessness that her daughter attempted to hide beneath a brave façade.

Finally, Elizabeth’s tears abated, and she was able to breathe more evenly. Mrs. Bennet examined the injury and found that it was just a scratch so minor that, once cleaned up, it was hardly visible. Elizabeth was not so easily mollified; she worried that the mark might be noticeable for the important event at Almacks that night. When her mother suggested she would be better to claim illness and stay home to rest, Elizabeth fervently protested that she was well enough. She did not want her lack of attendance to call into question the appropriateness of the Lydon ladies being issued an invitation to such a prestigious gathering.

Wisely changing the topic to reduce her daughter’s agitation, Mrs. Bennet spoke of the plans they had for an outing that day, and that most certainly a visit to the bookseller’s would be included. When Elizabeth had been undressed and helped into her nightshift, Mrs. Bennet brushed out her hair. Her mother’s ministrations helped Elizabeth to relax and realize that the ordeal had exhausted her. Fanny remained at her bedside until her daughter fell asleep then retired to the bedchamber she shared with her husband, threw herself on the bed, and cried her heart out.

It had not happened to Elizabeth. Her questions had verified it; there was no hesitation, no averting of her eyes when Elizabeth spoke of the details of the assault. Fanny’s relief was overwhelming, but the memory was no longer buried in the back of her mind, and she did not know how she would survive it haunting her again. She needed Thomas. When she had exhausted her tears, she called the maid to say that she wished to be left alone for the rest of the morning and to send word to the family that she was suffering from a headache.

***

Darcy moved closer to Bennet and said in a low voice, “Should I have one of my men summon the authorities, or can I buy him a one-way ticket to America? It would save some trouble and make certain he does not charm his way out of gaol. I would really like to be rid of him sooner than later.”

“Two vicious attacks, Darcy. Two. On my daughter. I cannot abide impunity for this man. He deserves the worst, but I know what it feels like to fear a hanging. I only need to be assured he will not harm my family anymore.”

While Jenkins assisted Roberts in roughly hauling Wickham to his feet, Wickham wrenched around to look up at Darcy and Bennet as they shared their whispered conversation. There was something about the two of them together that was settled deep in his recollection, but he could not put his finger on it. His mind told him that he had some past knowledge of the two men, that he had been acquainted with both, but he did not recall why they looked so familiar standing side-by-side. He looked at one, then the other, then repeated the action. Suddenly, the revelation came to him.

“Lord Shelton.”

Chapter 25:
Our heroes catch a cad and finally bring him to justice.

29 April 1812
London

“Lord Shelton,” Wickham repeated more stridently as he was being dragged to his feet by Roberts and Jenkins, the two burly footmen Darcy had assigned to watch over Elizabeth. All eyes were widened at the accusation. “I never would have expected to see you masquerading as a mere country squire. This is an interesting turn of events.”

Darcy and Bennet were shocked into silence as they tried to make sense of how to respond to the fact that Wickham had recognised Bennet as Lord Shelton. They were unsure how confident he was of the connection, and they wondered how he obtained the knowledge since Maria Lucas mentioned nothing of it when Bennet interviewed her not two days before.

“You are out of your mind, Wickham,” Darcy growled.

Wickham cast his gaze over both men, observing their reactions. Through many years of tormenting Darcy, he was familiar with that man’s body language under similar circumstances, and he clearly observed that Darcy was fuming with anger in the aftermath of the spoiled kidnap attempt. Since Darcy had control over the footmen who held him back, Wickham knew his physical safety was in danger if he continued to throw barbs in Darcy’s direction.

On the other hand, Bennet was more inscrutable; Wickham did not know him well enough to gauge his reaction. However, Bennet had paled and no longer made eye contact with him. That revealed there was some foundation for the accusation. Wickham was encouraged to continue speaking directly to Bennet as he seemed to be the most vulnerable to verbal attack.

“I had only ever seen you from a distance, so I didn’t recognise you until I saw you here with Darcy,” he said with a smirk. “It brought to mind seeing Lord Shelton together with old Mr. Darcy at Pemberley. You are so very unfortunate that Darcy looks just like his father; else I may not have made the connection. Tell me, what does the real Thomas Bennet look like? Did you kill him like you did Lord Malcolm?”

Darcy saw his friend’s distress and quickly came to his defence.

“Bennet’s physical similarity to Lord Shelton is uncanny, is it not Wickham? There are those who have noted the similarity, but with Lord Shelton being from Derbyshire, and Bennet from Gloucestershire, it is ridiculous to assume they are the self-same man,” Darcy said, prevaricating carefully to protect Bennet. Wickham, however, was not put off by Darcy’s defence.

“There would be a lot of people interested in your perfidy. You are impersonating another man and have no right to do so. Imagine what the authorities would do if they found out.”

“You have no basis for this assertion,” Darcy replied. “Anyone who knows Bennet will rush to his aid if you try to make public this erroneous assumption. Unlike you, he has an untarnished reputation, and he is not without friends to protect his good name.”

Stepping incautiously into dangerous waters, Wickham turned his scorn towards his childhood friend. “Lord Shelton was such a sheep to your father, Darcy, and no friend of mine. There was one occasion when I played roughly with you at the river and Lord Shelton told your father, but Mr. Darcy took my side. He loved me more than you.”

The situation Wickham described was as fresh in Darcy’s mind as if it had been yesterday; Darcy had nearly been drowned by Wickham, and Lord Shelton came to his aid in the nick of time. Darcy had often been bullied by Wickham and was incensed that he was using their history to his advantage. Once again, Darcy fought to rein in his anger, and the tension caused his jaw to clench. Wickham saw his agitation and used it as an opportunity to further goad Darcy while also instilling more doubt towards Bennet.

“Darcy, you must realize that you can no longer take Lady Elizabeth to bride. Bennet, or should I say, Lord Shelton, will lose all his friends, and his daughters will be ruined once the news of this travesty is spread about town. If Lady Elizabeth has lied about her father’s identity, that reputation would be inextricably attached to her, and if you marry her, to your family. You would need more than Georgiana’s £30,000 to get anyone to take your sister off your hands. Perhaps I am not such a bad bridegroom after all.”

Darcy was furious with Wickham’s reference to Georgiana. It was all he could do to resist wringing the blackguard’s neck.

“And I have witnesses. As soon as these two flunkeys return to the servants’ quarters, the gossip will start, and no one can protect you. Your charade is over.”

Darcy grimaced. “You know all my servants are above gossip, and Jenkins and Roberts are two of my most trusted staff. Not only will they not relate this conversation to anyone, they will vehemently defend Mr. Bennet’s reputation and relish taking you to Bow Street for your many crimes. I think if I suggested it to them, they might even spread the word about how many innocent maidens you have trifled with, am I correct, fellows?”

Already fuming from the personal insult of Wickham’s assault on Elizabeth, the footmen now became livid. They shared a look, and then Jenkins jerked Wickham’s arms behind his back while Roberts drove his fist into Wickham’s stomach. It was uncanny how they each seemed to sense what the other was thinking.