Chapter 19

Fitzwilliam Darcy could literally feel his face flush in embarrassment and had the ground opened underneath him, he would have been more than happy to disappear into the depth of it, never to re-surface again. But as it was, the ground did not open, and all he could do at present was to cast his eyes down to avoid any searching glance at Elizabeth – and more importantly from her. It was then, that he realised, that he still held firmly onto her hand – her ungloved hand even as she had removed them for their meal. The right thing to do, would surely be, to let go of her, but yet, a small voice at the back of his mind chimed up, telling him that perhaps, now that the cards all lay open, he might just as well take the plunge and admit to the fact, that all Georgiana had said about his love for the lively young woman, was actually perfectly true.

Looking up quickly, he could see, that Elizabeth Bennet was not any less flustered than him. She, too, sported a bright red colour upon her cheeks, and her eyes were also cast to the ground, while Georgiana only stood there, rooted to the spot in mortification.

"Miss Bennet?" he, at last, managed to find his voice again, though it seemed to sound rather odd as if it did not belong to him at all, "now that my sister has been so presumptions, I feel I must speak. I can stay silent no longer. Miss Bennet, please let me tell you..."

But what he had wanted to say, drowned in a commotion from the direction of the front door. They could hear hurried voices, and a moment later Colonel Fitzwilliam shouted up the stairs, while at the same time running up it, taking two steps at a time.

"It is him, Darcy," the Colonel panted his expression equally shocked as it was angry, "He is here, at the door, demanding to see you."

All the colour which had before heated his face now drained from it. The words of love and affection which he had been about to utter, now stuck in his throat almost choking him, reminding him, that at present, he was in no state to offer Miss Bennet anything but possible scandal or alternatively a life full of fear and doubt. From belowstairs he could hear some heated voices, one clearly belonging to his butler, and then what appeared to be a struggle. Before he had regained his wits or at least some of his sense, none other than George Wickham entered the chamber, a sly grin on his face and his eyes sparkling with malice.

"Ah, I see I have come upon a family meeting, of sorts. And who is this charming young woman?" he turned towards Elizabeth, bowing gallantly.

"That is none of your business, Wickham!"

It was Georgiana of all people in the room, who reacted first, her face was white with anger and stepping towards the handsome man, dressed in the lieutenant's uniform of a militia regiment. Before any of the rest knew what she was on about, had slapped him hard in the face. His false smile faltered for a moment, and at first, it seemed as if he was about to strike back, but then he only began to laugh. A very spiteful and ominous laugh.

"How dare you come here! What is it you want, Wickham?" Darcy, at last, asked, through gritted teeth.

"Oh, you know, as you can see, I have found myself a new occupation, but I need a bit of an initial aid. You know with purchasing the commission and the uniform and all."

"What happened to the money I gave you last week?"

He could literally feel three pairs of eyes bore into him now. Wickham on the other hand just shrugged his shoulders in mock joviality.

"It is also kind of urgent, otherwise I would have sent you a letter, of course. You know I am a considerate fellow in that respect," he replied eventually in an exaggerated suave manner.

Darcy could not help but laugh drily at those words.

"So, since I have to report by noon on the morrow, I had no choice but to come here tonight. And besides, it is always nice to see such good friends, is it not?"

"You fiend!" Georgiana spat, seemingly ready to lunge at him again. "You terrible, terrible fiend!"

"Hush, my love, or do you want the whole world to know our little secret?"

Here the young officer looked pointedly at Elizabeth, whose eyes were glaring at the intruder.

Through the open door, Darcy could make out a good handful of his footmen, as well as the butler, who rubbed his shoulder as if he had been injured, all awaiting his orders. Oh, how he would love to throw out this bastard! But whether it was a wise thing to do or not, was another matter. He nodded in their direction and a moment later the door was closed, though he was pretty certain, that they lingered behind, should they be needed. He would have to pay them extra, lest word of this affair might come out, so much was apparent. Not that he could not trust his staff in general, but this, for sure, was too delicious a topic to gossip about to rely on their discretion alone.

"How much is it you want this time?" Darcy inquired, managing to sound almost bored.

"Oh, I think another five-hundred should suffice. For the moment at least."

Both Georgiana and Elizabeth gasped as they finally realised what was going on and seemingly had been going on for a while, and Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed all but ready to draw his sabre. But Darcy only shook his head, in his direction. It was not that he felt sorry for the pathetic wretch before him, rather that it would be very hard to explain the circumstances of his death to a magistrate. - And Wickham had known as much! Any rash decision and the scandal he had tried to avoid for months now would be unavoidable. So he only beckoned Wickham to follow him downstairs and into his study to give him the money and nothing more. Money that these days he always kept in his safe.

"Here. And now go! And, Wickham, should you ever turn up on my doorstep again, I will not hold Fitzwilliam back again. Is that understood?"

"I was not aware he now lives here to protect you, Darcy," was the nonchalant answer he received, before, with a swagger and an ugly smirk, George Wickham left the house, and chaos in his wake.