Page 77 of Bitterness of Spirit

Mrs. Gardiner asked Lydia to change for the night then locked the door and left. For hours, Elizabeth had to hear about her sister’s deep love for Wickham and her happiness that he chose to elope precisely with her—of all the women that were partial to him.

Though she heard many words, her mind kept few as she wondered and worried about what had occurred among the four men who remained in the library—about Darcy’s thoughts, whether she would see him again, or he would finally return to Pemberley to be away from her.

***

Once the others left, Wickham appeared confused for a moment. He glanced around at the waiting gentlemen: Darcy, the colonel, and Wilson.

Wilson suddenly spoke. “I am glad my brother Bennet left; this conversation is not something the father of a young daughter should ever be forced to bear. So, Wickham, what will happen tomorrow?”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“Well, my brother Bennet asked you to be sure you want to marry, hoping you would realise the hole you are about to fall into and not go further with this. He was obviously certain you would escape the prospect of having to support a young wife with no dowry. “

“Well, I…I do realise the heavy responsibility of such a step,” Wickham responded. “It is not easy for me to answer your question as it depends on many things…”

“What things? You clearly cannot afford to marry Lydia Bennet, even if you had a genuine affection for her, which we all know to be untrue. So how do you plan to handle this?” His voice turned more severe as he sat with his drink. The others followed his lead and chose chairs.

“Mr. Wilson, I would gladly marry Miss Lydia, but I cannot deny, as you have guessed, that it would be difficult for me to support a wife in the present circumstances.”

“I see…but you have a reasonable income as an officer, correct?”

“My income is much less than a married man would need. Besides, I am in a difficult position. I had to leave the regiment for the present. I am ashamed to admit that I have debts I cannot repay, and I am struggling to find a way. This would make a sudden marriage even more difficult, as I could not allow my wife to bear this time of sorrow with me.” Wickham said.

Darcy rolled his eyes with and looked at his cousin.

“I see…so you would actually need someone to pay your debts and help you find another living in order to marry. And perhaps additional support to provide your future wife with a comfortable home. Am I correct?” Wilson inquired with a calmness that chilled Darcy, but Wickham looked relieved.

“Yes, that would be my salvation, Mr. Wilson. I only need temporary support to go through this difficult time. Without it, I cannot possibly consider marrying. But I assure you, I would repay any such help with honour and diligence.”

“I am sure you would, Wickham. And may I dare ask what sum would cover your debts?”

Wickham crossed his legs, seemed to think, looked at Wilson, and said with apparent discomfort, “The debts are around five thousand pounds, I think. You must keep in mind that they were made over several years, and they have increased recently—even before I joined the militia. And then I would need a way to live decently, to ensure a house appropriate for my young wife. I am not certain how much that would entail. Unfortunately, such a burden, if not solved, would prevent my marrying.”

Wickham sighed, poured himself a glass of brandy without asking permission, then sat and looked at Wilson.

Darcy narrowed his eyes to better see whether this was complete stupidity on Wickham’s part or the height of impertinence. His astonishment on hearing the sum Wickham managed to waste—once more—was supplanted by the realization that Wickham’s impertinence was greater than his wit.

Wilson watched Wickham in silence before concluding. “So, unless these debts are paid, you will not agree to marry Lydia.”

“I cannot afford to do so—as you just mentioned,” Wickham admitted.

“Then, may I ask why you decided to elope with her, tricking her into a belief that you would marry although you knew it to be impossible?”

Wilson rose and took a few steps towards the man, who also left his chair and stepped back.

“Well, I hoped things would be arranged eventually. Besides, I only spent a little time with Miss Lydia in Meryton where we discussed many things. Then she told me about her journey to Town…and she wrote to me a few times. I did not withhold that I must search for another living and might not see her again. And I told her that my financial situation was precarious. But she expressed her support and her desire to accompany me!”

“Enough, Wickham, for heaven’s sake!” the colonel interrupted. “Have you no shame? Do you blame a young girl, almost a child, for the elopement? You dare put the responsibility on her although you are the one who deceived and seduced her?”

“He has no shame,” Darcy replied. “If he ever had any, he lost it when he was a young boy. This conversation is useless. You cannot allow Miss Lydia to marry such a despicable scoundrel. She must go home, and care must be taken that she never sees him again.”

Wickham addressed Wilson, ignoring Darcy completely. “Mr. Wilson, why does Darcy have any say in this situation? You know he has always tried to ruin my life and, as far as I know, has no connection to the Bennet family. He cares nothing about Lydia or her well-being.”

Anger held Darcy as Wickham continued. “Although he might be more considerate since he has a sister almost the same age as Lydia and knows the daunting nature of such a task.”

Darcy lost his composure. In an instant, he was in front of Wickham, clutching the lapels of his coat. “If you dare say one more word about Georgiana, you will regret it. I should have killed you last year,” he growled through clenched teeth.

The shock of this unexpected violence, compared to Darcy’s restrained behaviour in the past, left Wickham pale and silent. Darcy pushed him back and walked to the window in an attempt to regain his composure.