Author's note: my apologies for calling Lydia "Mrs. Wickham" instead of "Mrs. Forster" in the last chapter! That's what I get for reading the book as I write this. I appreciate everyone who noticed it! You make my writing better! And as always, I greatly treasure the kind words of encouragement I receive.

Chapter 23

Once out of sight from Meryton, Bingley urged his horse into a gallop, with Darcy close behind. They road their horses hard all the way to Netherfield. Practically leaping from his horse, Bingley shoved the reins into the hands of a startled groom. He tore up the steps into Netherfield, Darcy right on his heels.

"Fawcett, where is Mrs. Bingley?" Bingley demanded in a harsh voice.

Fawcett struggled to keep his usual imperturbable mien in face of Bingley's uncustomary anger. "I believe you will find Mrs. Bingley in her private sitting room," he said after a split second to regain his equanimity.

Bingley and Darcy both rushed up the stairs. Not even pausing to knock, they threw the door open. "Georgiana, pack your things," Darcy cried, "We must leave Netherfield immediately."

Georgiana looked up from her letters in astonishment. "Brother, Charles, what is going on? Is everyone okay?" Her face paled slightly. "Is Anne alright?"

"What? Anne? No, Anne is fine. Everyone is well. It is just that we must go at once," Darcy stammered, thrown by the question.

"But why?" Georgiana asked, brows knit in confusion.

Bingley and Darcy looked at one another, debating on how much to tell her. The debate ended when Georgiana stood, put her hands on her hips, and firmly stated, "I am a grown, married woman. I believe the mistress of this house is owed an explanation as to why she must abandon her home and friends on a moment's notice."

Darcy's face remained stern, but Bingley's softened slightly. He crossed the room and gently pushed her back into her chair. He knelt at her feet, picked up one hand, and said, "Georgiana, Mr. Wickham is in Meryton."

Whatever Georgiana had been expecting, it was not that. Her eyes widened, her breathing increased, and her face went so pale, Darcy thought she would faint. Her brother glared at her husband, who stared defiantly back. "She deserved to know," Bingley stated emphatically.

Georgiana closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. The color returned slightly to her cheeks, and she said, "What is he doing here?"

"We don't know," Bingley said bluntly. "We were riding into town to fetch the last of the things you needed to prepare for Oakley's arrival, and we saw him in the street, speaking with the Bennets."

"And you just left them there with him?" Georgiana asked, her voice pitched high.

"He was in the company of several members of the militia," Darcy explained. "We could not very well cause a scene in the middle of the road."

"No, I suppose not," she murmured.

Darcy opened his mouth to again demand she begin to pack, but she held up her hand for silence. After several minutes, with both gentlemen shifting impatiently, she said in a quiet voice, "I will not be leaving Netherfield."

"What?" her brother and her husband exclaimed.

"I said, I will not leave. I have done nothing wrong, and I have no need to flee," she repeated firmly. Raising her chin, she continued, "This is my home. I am well-protected by you two and my cousins. I will not abandon my friends to deal with a scoundrel. Additionally, Oakley is most likely already on his way here. I will not allow the likes of such a man to ruin my felicity."

Bingley looked at her closely. "Are you certain, my dear?" he asked in a gentle voice.

"Georgiana, I strongly urge you to consider –" Darcy began.

"No!" she cried, standing with tight fists clenched at her sides. "I have considered this. I have done little but think about how I would face him again were we to encounter one another. I have no feelings for him other than pity and disdain. I do, however, have feelings for my friends and neighbors."

"If you are certain, then I will support you, dearest," Bingley said, lifting a hand to caress her face gently.

Georgiana blushed slightly at this intimacy, and Darcy's mouth fell open slightly. Closing it, he cleared his throat and said, "Well, if this is the course you are determined to take…"

"It is," she assured him.

Darcy nodded and said, "Then I will, of course, remain with you. With Fitzwilliam and Oakley here as well, you will be quite safe."

"Oh, I am not worried about my safety," she said, "but I am worried about that of the Bennet girls. They are such lovely women, and Wickham has great charm."

Both gentlemen nodded in agreement, then Bingley replied, "They are your friends, dearest, and you know them best. What would you suggest?"

"Allow me to think on it for a few days," Georgiana said. "They are smart enough girls that a few days will not make a long-term difference. Plus, with Oakley coming, I have much to do."

"Very well," Darcy said. "We will leave you to your plans, and I will find Fitzwilliam to inform him of the situation. If Wickham was indeed near several men in regimentals, perhaps he will have purchased a commission. If he has, then we have much more power over him to prevent him from causing harm."

With that decided, Darcy bowed to Georgiana and left to find their cousin. Bingley lingered a moment longer, placing a kiss on Georgiana's cheek. "I am proud of your courage," he whispered, then left the room after his friend, leaving Georgiana with the feel of his lips that lingered for a long time.

At Longbourn, as no objection was made to the young people's engagement with their aunt, the coach conveyed the four single Bennet girls at a suitable hour to Meryton the next evening; and the girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing-room, that Mr. Wickham had accepted their aunt's invitation, and was then in the house.

The officers of the —shire were in general a very creditable, gentlemanlike set, and the best of them were of the present party; but Mr. Wickham was as far beyond them all in person, countenance, air, and walk, as they were superior to the broad-faced, stuffy uncle Phillips.

Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was turned, and Lizzy was the happy woman by whom he finally seated himself; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, made her feel that the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker.

While many of the guests sat down to play at whist, Mr. Wickham took a seat at an open table where Lizzy also sat. He appeared eager to speak with her, and she was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told—the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. He enquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in a hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there.

"About a month," said Lizzy; and then, unwilling to let the subject drop, added, "He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand."

"Yes," replied Mr. Wickham; "his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy."

Lizzy could not but look surprised.

"You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?"

"Not very well acquainted," she replied, hoping he would provide information if she assumed a lack of knowledge. "He appears to be a man with strong convictions, however," she added.

"I have no right to give my opinion," said Wickham, "as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. I wonder," he said, changing the topic slightly, "whether he is likely be much in this country much longer."

"I do not at all know; but I heard nothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favor of the —shire will not be affected by his being in the neighborhood."

"Oh! no—it is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim before all the world, a sense of very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behavior to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father."

Lizzy found the interest of the subject increase and listened with all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further enquiry.

Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the neighborhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter with gentle but very intelligible gallantry.

"It was the prospect of constant society, and good society," he added, "which was my chief inducement to enter the —shire. I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me further by his account of their present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent acquaintances Meryton had procured them. Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude. I must have employment and society. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession—I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now."

"Indeed!"

"Yes—the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and he thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere."

"Good heavens!" cried Lizzy; "but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?"

"There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honor could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it—or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence—in short anything or nothing. Certain it is, that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may have spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me."

"This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced. I had always thought him a man of strong moral character."

"Some time or other he will be—but it shall not be by me. Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him."

Lizzy noted the slight contradiction of this statement, as Mr. Wickham was exposing Mr. Darcy to herself, but she was eager to hear more of Mr. Wickham's opinion on the subject. "How could he act in such a way when Mr. Bingley claims such friendship with him? For surely Mr. Bingley is an amiable man."

"A thorough, determined dislike of me—a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father's uncommon attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood—the sort of preference which was often given me."

"Upon my word," she exclaimed, "How strange!" cried Elizabeth. "How abominable! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you! If from no better motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest—for dishonesty I must call it."

"Mr. Darcy is quite skilled at presenting to the world one nature but secretly lives another," Mr. Wickham said with sorrow. "You spoke earlier of his high moral character, but when he is at home in Derbyshire, he and his friends live quite another lifestyle."

"Do you…, do you mean Mr. Cartwright?" Lizzy whispered in horror.

Mr. Wickham looked at her in surprise. "Are you acquainted with Mr. Cartwright?" he asked in astonishment.

"He was the former steward of Netherfield, and he is known to the gentry as an honorable man, but the tenants have seen another side of him. An evil side."

Mr. Wickham shook his head in dismay. "I'm afraid Mr. Darcy and Mr. Cartwright have many of the same proclivities."

Lizzy gasped and pressed her hand to her mouth. "What of Mr. Bingley?"

Mr. Wickham merely pressed his lips together in disdain and gave her a knowing look. At that moment, Lydia came over and demanded Wickham partner her at the next round of whist. "For my dear Forster takes all before him, and I am becoming quite cross about it!" the young wife exclaimed as her husband smiled at her indulgently.

Lizzy was somewhat relieved to see Wickham go, having much to consider. Poor Georgiana! Lizzy thought in dismay. How can she bear it? Or is she even aware of what her husband and brother are like? Then another thought crossed her mind. What of Colonel Fitzwilliam and his brother, Lord Oakley?! Surely, they, too, are not so bad that! Or Colonel Forster? The two colonels are good friends with one another.

At this point, Lizzy's head was beginning to swim. She looked around the room, but all she could see was Becky's terrified face.

Just then, Jane's voice broke through the chaos. "Lizzy?" she asked, concerned.

Lizzy shook her head, the memories fading. Looking around, she saw Jane had finished her game of whist and joined Lizzy at her empty table. "What is it, Lizzy?"

Shaking her head, Lizzy whispered, "Not now, Jane. Later."

Jane nodded in understanding but remained close to her sister. Now that the anguish that had arisen from the return of those memories had faded, Lizzy was able to think back over Mr. Wickham's conversation with a clearer mind. Closing her eyes, she turned the words over in her head.

Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him.

Lizzy's eyes popped open, remembering Wickham's contradictory words and behavior. If he has prevaricated about this, what else might be false? she wondered. After all, would I not have seen something in his behavior that would indicate such depravities in the two weeks I was at Netherfield? It also does not fit with his apologies to me about Jane.

Lizzy spent the remainder of the card party watching Mr. Wickham, looking for any indications he was of a deceitful nature. Such concentration led to her forming a headache by the end of the evening, and she was relieved when the carriage was called for.

The journey back to Longbourn was largely silent, save for the eloquence with which Mr. Collins spoke about his enjoyment of the card party. An occasional comment from Mary was all that he required to continue the conversation until they had reached the house.

Once inside, Mary bid her fiancé a good night, and the four sisters climbed the stairs. Lizzy immediately went to her bedroom, planning to ready for bed and then spend much of the night in solitary contemplation. Instead, however, her sisters came into her bedroom, dressed in their nightclothes.

"Lizzy, what did Mr. Wickham say to you," Jane said with quiet steel in her voice.

"Mr. Wickham?" Kitty asked in surprise. "Did he cause you any distress, Lizzy?"

Lizzy spent the next thirty minutes recounting all of her interactions with Mr. Wickham, including his reaction to seeing Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. When she reached the part where Wickham told her of Darcy's friendship with Mr. Cartwright, Mary looked confused.

"But, Lizzy," said Mary, "I do not understand why Mr. Darcy's friendship with Mr. Cartwright should so distress you. I do not remember much about the man, as I was still a girl when he left, but I do remember that he was quite pleasant whenever he dined at Longbourn."

"That is what everyone thinks," Lizzy said darkly, "but he hides his evils behind a mask of amiability. He is not a good man."

"What did he do?" Kitty asked in a hushed whisper.

Lizzy looked at Jane, who said quietly, "Perhaps it is best that they know the full details."

Nodding gravely, Lizzy took a deep breath and proceeded to share her experience with Becky and Mr. Cartwright. She left out Becky's name, of course, merely referring to her as a daughter of one of Netherfield's tenants.

"How vile," Mary said emphatically. Kitty nodded silently, unable to respond, her cheeks wet with tears.

"And then he wanted to propose to Jane!" Lizzy exclaimed.

Mary gasped in horror, and Kitty went pale. "Is this why you spent so much time in London when you were sixteen?" Mary asked.

Jane affirmed this with a nod and added, "Mr. Cartwright was also the former suitor who importuned me a few weeks ago at Hyde Park in London."

"Oh, I am so grateful to your viscount for his intervention!" Kitty said fervently.

"We are much indebted to Lord Oakley," Mary agreed. "I begin to see why Mr. Wickham's assertions of Mr. Darcy's character and friendship with Mr. Cartwright were so disturbing to you."

"Yes," Lizzy said slowly, "but I am beginning to consider the idea that Mr. Wickham was not entirely truthful."

"But how can such an amiable-looking man tell such lies?" Kitty wailed in dismay.

"As I learned with Mr. Cartwright, appearances can be deceiving. You must learn to look behind the mask that a man wears," Lizzy responded.

"Why do you distrust Mr. Wickham?" Mary asked curiously. "Not that I disbelieve your interpretation, but I am curious as to why you choose one to be more trustworthy than the other."

Lizzy hesitated. "I'm not entirely certain; there are a few inconsistencies, such as the fact that Mr. Wickham claimed he could never expose his friend in honor of his godfather's memory. But then he shared all of Mr. Darcy's supposed sins with me, a stranger whom he had just met."

Her sisters nodded in agreement, and Lizzy continued. "There is also the matter of the fact that Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy both reacted to strongly to Mr. Wickham. Mr. Bingley, whom I have always considered to be amiable, had such a look of anger upon his face, even more so than Mr. Darcy's. If Mr. Darcy truly was a villain who gave a false façade of gentility, then he would have met Mr. Wickham with false cheer at seeing an old friend. No, the more I think on, the more I believe Mr. Wickham to be the one hiding a dissolute character!"

After Lizzy's pronouncement, the room fell silent as her sister's contemplated her words. Jane finally spoke up and said, "Lizzy, at first I thought there must have been some misunderstanding between the gentlemen, but I am sorry to say that I agree with you. Mr. Wickham is the one who is hiding behind a mask, and you were experienced enough to take a look behind it at the real person."

Mary and Kitty voiced their agreement. "What should we do?" Kitty asked in concern. "Should we tell someone?"

Lizzy shook her head. "No, I do not think that would be wise. We would not wish to make Mr. Wickham desperate. We also have no proof. We will simply need to guard ourselves against Mr. Wickham and his false charm. I shan't be taken in by his lies!"

With that, the girls bade one another a good night, eager to meet with their friends from Netherfield soon.