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An Appointment
in London
Mr. Thomas Bennet
was having a very bad day. He had planned to leave his rented
rooms in London after breakfast and take a cab to Gracechurch
Street, but the innkeeper kept him waiting for over two hours
- he had gone out on an errand. Then no hackney cab could be
secured until another hour had been lost. On top of that, it
began to rain. It was a very damp and aggravated Mr. Bennet that
entered his brother-in-law's lodgings in Cheapside. After greeting
his relatives and recounting his tale of woe, he was shown into
Mr. Gardiner's study for a bit of brandy.
"What news,
brother?" asked Gardiner after Bennet had enjoyed his first
sip.
Bennet rolled his
eyes. "Colonel Forster might be a fine commander of militia,
but as a hunter and guide he is as bereft of ability as he is
a guardian! We have found no trace of Lydia or that scoundrel!
I must admit I am glad to see you, brother, for I am at my wits
end."
"Patience,
Thomas; they will be found."
"Found? In
the largest city in the world? I must wonder at your confidence,
sir, for I have none. No, I have not the least expectation Lydia
will be discovered. In any case, I expect it is too late; I am
sure Wickham has already achieved his purpose. She is ruined,
Edward, and all my girls with her."
"You do not
know that, Thomas. Do not despair; have faith in your daughter."
"You deceive
yourself sir!" Bennet cried. "I know she is lost -
she is like her mother. I blame her mother for this!" At
Gardiner's pained expression, he added, "Forgive me, Edward;
that was uncalled for…"
"Say no more,
Thomas. I know well my sister's failings. However, you must hold
your tongue. We have guests coming."
Bennet started.
"Guests? At a time like this?" He raised his glass
to his lips.
"Yes, Thomas;
they are…"
At that moment,
the door of the study was opened by the butler. "Mr. Bingley
and Mr. Darcy to see you, sir."
Bennet did a perfect
spit-take.
"Sir!"
cried Bingley to Mr. Bennet. "Are you well? May I get you
something for your relief?" Without waiting for leave he
crossed over to the choking man and began pounding him on the
back.
"Bingley,"
said Darcy dispassionately, "you may want to stop beating
the man before you injure him."
"Oh, of course!
I beg your pardon, Mr. Bennet!"
Bennet soon recovered
from his coughing fit and Bingley's remedy. "It…it
is quiet all right, young man. I must admit I am surprised to
see you here; and my astonishment is redoubled at your attendance,
Mr. Darcy."
Bingley gave the
gentleman a slight bow. "We are here to offer our services
to you, Mr. Bennet!"
A nameless dread
was creeping into Bennet's bones, but he fought the temptation
to leap up and scream. "What services are those, Mr. Bingley?
I fail to understand your meaning."
Darcy glanced at
Gardiner in confusion; that momentary pause prevented him from
stopping Bingley from replying: "Why, to help find Miss
Lydia, sir!"
Bennet gave into
temptation. "WHAT?!?" He spun upon his brother-in-law.
"ARE THESE GENTLEMEN AWARE OF OUR TROUBLES?!? WHY IN HEAVEN'S
NAME DID YOU TELL THEM?!? GARDINER, ARE YOU MAD?!?"
"Mr. Bennet!"
cried Darcy. "I will explain all, but you must control yourself,
sir!" As Bennet continued to babble, he added, "SIT
DOWN, SIR!" The power of Darcy's personality hit the older
man like a force of nature. Before he knew it, Mr. Bennet was
seated back in his armchair.
Darcy took breath.
"Inadvertently, Mr. Bingley and I learned of your family's
misfortune. As you know, I have had dealings with Mr. Wickham
before. Due to my superior knowledge of that…man's habits
and tendencies, I offer my talents and those of my friend to
help recover your daughter and to protect your family's honor."
"You know where
he is?" the distraught father exclaimed.
"No, sir, I
do not. However, I am confident that I can find him."
Bennet looked at
Darcy with a suspicious eye. "How is it that a man of your
standing would acquire such knowledge?"
Darcy hesitated,
but he knew this time would come. In a calm voice he relayed
his history with Wickham, including the reprobate's attempt to
seduce Georgiana. Bingley had heard the tale during their trip
from Derbyshire, but the story was new to the older gentlemen,
and their astonishment was great. They could not doubt the veracity
of his account, as they could not imagine a man like Fitzwilliam
Darcy inventing such a tale.
Bennet held his
head in his hands. "Hopeless - it is hopeless…"
As Gardiner tried to comfort him, he raised his face to Darcy.
"Such a man; such a lack of scruples! How is he to be worked
on? Mr. Darcy, thank you for your offer - and you too, Mr. Bingley
- but there is nothing to be done. My daughter is ruined, whether
she is recovered or not, and all that remains is to call that
rascal out and leave my wife a widow."
"Mr. Bennet,
there is a way to end this matter in a…somewhat satisfactory
manner," offered Darcy.
"Do not toy
with me, sir," begged Bennet. "I know you have little
reason to love me - I have not been kind to you - but I ask you
to take pity on me."
"Sir,"
Darcy kneeled down, "could you bear Wickham as a son-in-law?"
He grimaced. "I
would bear anything to preserve my family's honor, sir."
"Then all is
settled. I shall see them married."
"How, sir?
He hates you!"
"There is something
Wickham loves above all else, sir. Money."
Bennet snorted.
"I have not been sitting on my hands, Mr. Darcy; I have
been making inquiries here and in Meryton. Colonel Forster has
quite the accounting from Brighton, as well. His debts are more
than I could hope to cover."
"Do not be
concerned about that issue, Mr. Bennet."
"What do you
mean…?" Astonishment overcame his countenance. "Mr.
Darcy, surely you are not saying…?"
Darcy's words were
like ice. "The fault is mine, and so must the remedy be.
Leave Wickham to me."
"Mr. Darcy!
You take too much on yourself!"
"Nevertheless,
I shall have it. I shall not be swayed. My mind is determined."
"Don't bother
to argue, brother," advised Gardiner. "I have tried
until I am blue in the face. Mr. Darcy is resolute, if nothing
else."
"Indeed, sir,"
added Bingley. "I cannot remember any time in our acquaintance
that Darcy was persuaded away from his purpose."
Bennet shook his
head. "But this makes no sense! I can understand your interest
in the matter, Mr. Bingley," he said as he pointed to him,
"but what is your concern, Mr. Darcy? Why should
you care about my family…unless…" His face went
white. "Oh…oh…oh no…no…no!"
"Sir?"
asked Darcy.
"Not Lizzy…not
my Lizzy!"
Mr. Bennet's day
definitely got worse.
~~~~}+{~~~~
A very fine carriage
rolled through a notorious part of the British capital in the
early evening. Up and down narrow lanes it traveled, until it
stopped by a darkened lane off a small street. Five gentlemen
descended from the vehicle, all carrying weapons, and they took
in their surroundings.
"Is my Lydia
here?" a shaky voice was heard to utter.
"No,"
said another. Instructions were given to the driver and his companions.
After the gentlemen were satisfied with the level of alertness
in their servants, the five moved quietly down the lane, never
glancing at the denizens of the neighborhood they traveled through.
Within moments they were knocking at a certain door.
"Who is it?"
came a challenge.
"Mick sent
me," was returned. "God save th' King."
Satisfied with the
password, the door was unlocked. At that instant, the men charged
the door, forcing it open and overpowering the large guard inside.
"Quickly,"
cried a man used to giving orders. "That door! Stop for
nothing!" An instant later the group had forced the second
door as well.
"All right,
Darce; it's your show now," said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
"You, girl,"
Darcy demanded of a maid, "where is Mrs. Younge? Be quick,
or it will go badly for you."
The frightened servant
quickly took the group to a third door. But before they could
knock it opened. "Ah, Mr. Darcy; I thought I heard your
voice," said a middle-aged woman who wore too much make-up
and too little clothing.
Fitz jumped in front
of his cousin, drawing his pistol on the woman. "Aye, Younge,
and not alone! Drop that gun, or by Heaven you'll not see the
sunrise!" Bingley and Gardiner brandished their arms as
well.
Mrs. Younge smirked
and dropped her derringer. "You haven't changed, have you,
Colonel?"
"It is why
I am still alive, Mrs. Younge." He pushed by her and quickly
searched the room. "It's all right to come in, Darce."
"Won't you
come in, Mr. Darcy?" Mrs. Younge spoke in a mocking tone.
The company entered what turned out to be a cheaply over-done
sitting room. Their nostrils were filled with the exotic smells
of illegal substances. "You gentlemen too," she added
to the group's back. "May I offer you something? I believe
I have what you're looking for."
Darcy turned to
her. "If it is information you offer, Younge, yes, you do.
As for what else you're peddling, I believe with shall give it
a pass."
"Information
about what?"
"Where is Wickham?"
Her face closed
up. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Come, madam!"
cried Mr. Bennet. "Tell us what you know! He has my daughter;
surely you see we are desperate?"
Younge's eyes glinted
with malice. "And what is that to me?"
"Younge! I
can have you taken up, you know." Darcy picked up a vase.
"Do you think I have forgotten this piece? It has been missing
from my townhouse for over a year."
Hate flowed out
of the woman's countenance. "Go ahead, sir, do your worst!
Miss Georgiana gave that to me! My word against yours!"
She laughed. "As if you would suffer your precious sister
to testify in public!"
Before Darcy could
reply, Bingley stepped in. "You are right, Mrs. Younge.
Darcy has misused you, hasn't he?"
"Aye, he did.
Underpaid and underappreciated I was!"
Bingley gave her
a tight smile. "Yes, I know how he can be. Do you know he
told me not to marry my love?"
Younge nodded. "Yes,
that's him all over." Darcy flushed but said nothing. The
other gentlemen remained silent as they followed the two men's
lead. Younge's eye was caught by the gold guinea that had suddenly
appeared in Bingly's fingers. It glittered in the candlelight
as he twirled it about.
"Yesss…"
he went on in a low voice. "But we know what can make it
better…This can, can it not?"
Younge gulped.
"Mr. Bennet
will give me permission to court his daughter if we recover her
sister. Now, I know you would not stand in the way of true love…"
A second guinea followed. "You want to help me, don't you?"
She snatched at the coins, but he pulled away. "No, no…the
address first."
She licked her lips.
"You won't give me up to the magistrate?"
"You have my
word: twenty of these for the address. A like amount mailed to
you upon our success."
"What if he's
left already?" she whined.
"Then you better
be quick about it."
~~~~}+{~~~~
"Darcy, I do
apologize for what I said back there." Bingley leaned across
the carriage, hand outstretched in friendship. Darcy wasted no
time in grasping it.
"Think nothing
of it," he said.
"You would
have gotten her to tell us what she knows, eventually, but it
came to me that this approach might serve; and in an expedited
manner. And it occurred to me she would be more amenable to someone
she thought had a grudge against you; as she obviously does."
"It matters
not, old man; we got the information we need. Besides,"
Darcy looked down, "you were not far wrong. My interference
in your matters is beyond disgraceful."
Bennet could no
longer hold his tongue. "I must interject, sirs, as you
seem to be speaking about my daughter. There was truth in what
you said to that jade back there?"
Before Darcy could
explain his faults, Bingley said, "A misunderstanding, Mr.
Bennet, nothing more, and one that have been forgiven. I must
disagree with my friend's statement, however; Darcy's judgment
is of the highest quality." Darcy blushed at his friend's
great goodness. "I hope you are not offended by my claim
to that woman, but…it was the only thing I could think of
at the time…I am most exceedingly sorry to bring your daughter
up in this."
"Mr. Bingley,
I would be honored to have you court my daughter."
~~~~}+{~~~~
George Wickham was
awakened from sleeping off a night of drink and debauchery by
an insistent knocking on the door of his rented rooms. Not one
to trust anyone that knocked on any door he found himself behind,
his first inclination was to ignore it. However, the noise awoke
Lydia, and she had no scruples against calling out, "Who
is it?"
Stupid cit!
"There be some
gentlemen wantin' to speak to Mr. Wickham, ma'am," called
out the keeper of the disreputable inn they found themselves
in. "They gots a business proposition for him."
That perked up two
sets of ears. "Did you hear that, Wickie? Now you can settle
your business and we can get married!"
Marriage to Lydia
was not high on Wickham's life list - going to fight Napoleon
one-handed and blindfolded beat it by a factor of three - but
she was a jolly and willing sort, and she caught on fast to the
sorts of games Wickham enjoyed, so he intended to keep the girl
around for awhile. "Excellent, my dear. Go into the dressing
area and make yourself presentable while I see to the door. And
remember…"
"Yes, yes…keep
quiet; I know."
He gave her a grin.
"Business can be so droll, my dear. Off with you."
She squealed as he gave her a slap on her most agreeable bottom
and she dashed into the other room. "Be right there!"
he called out as the knocking resumed. He pulled on his clothes
and walked over to the door. "Who is it?"
"Younge sent
us," came a response. It was the right one; Wickham took
off the chain and opened the door to see…
"What the hell
- Darcy!"
"Wickham."
"Hello, Wickham;
don't tell me you've forgotten me," came another unwelcomed
voice.
"N…no,
I haven't. Colonel Fitzwilliam; long time no see."
The party entered
without waiting to be invited. With Darcy and his cousin were
two other gentlemen. "Wickham," began Darcy, "this
is Mr. Gardiner - Miss Lydia's uncle - I believe you know Mr.
Bingley. We would have words with you. First; where is Miss Lydia?"
Wickham was confused;
he understood Gardiner's interest, but he had no idea why the
other three were there. To buy time he tried to brazen it out.
"Miss Lydia - Miss Lydia Bennet? I do not know what you
are talking about. Is she missing? She is not here, as you can
see."
Bingley was livid
- he could see the state of the room and a lady's chemise on
the lone chair. "Blackguard! Tell us this instant what you
have done with her!"
"Wickie?"
came a female voice. "Is that Mr. Bingley?"
Bingley lost all
control. "You cur! You have taken advantage of a mere child!"
He stripped off one of his gloves and raised it high as he moved
toward the cornered man. "You shall pay for this, you…"
He did not finish as a lighting-fast fist shot out and connected
on the man's chin. Bingley fell to the filthy floor, insensitive
to all around him.
"Sorry about
that, Darce," said Fitzwilliam as he drew back his aching
fist. "I thought you wanted to handle this."
"I did; good
work, Fitz."
"Mr. Bingley!"
cried Lydia as she emerged from the dressing room. "Why
is he on the floor? Is he ill?"
The other four men
blanched at her entrance, for varying reasons. At least the girl
had respectable clothing on; she owned more than one chemise.
Gardiner started to open his mouth, when Darcy interrupted. "Yes
- he has just taken ill, Miss Lydia. Would you help your uncle
bring him downstairs for aid?" A change in plans that would
serve very well.
"I can't pick
him up; I'm a lady!" she cried. Darcy resisted the urge
to roll his eyes. "Why don't you carry him, Mr. high-and-mighty
Darcy? Are you too good to do it?"
This was not the
place to argue - Mr. Bennet was waiting below, as planned. "Very
well. Mr. Gardiner, your assistance please? Miss Lydia, we will
need your help downstairs." The two seized the now woozy
Bingley by his arms and half-carried him out of the room, Lydia
trailing behind. The room was empty save for Colonel Fitzwilliam
and Lt. Wickham.
"Well,"
sneered Wickham, "you got what you came for, so why don't
you just bugger off?"
"Wickham, you
should be more grateful," replied Fitzwilliam easily. "We've
just saved you a world of trouble."
"Trouble? What
do you mean?"
"Surely even
a man of your limited intellect could see that Bingley was going
to challenge you to a duel."
Wickham laughed.
"That fool? You need not have bothered - I could have taken
him one-handed!"
A very distinct
sound brought realization to Wickham's mind. He just recalled
that most of the men present had walking-sticks in their hands;
the type that concealed thin blades. It was common for gentlemen
to carry such weapons in Town for their protection. But Fitzwilliam
had no stick in his hands. He didn't need one, it turned out.
That sound was that made by a cavalry sword being drawn from
its scabbard; the same sword now an inch from his throat.
"Wickham, Wickham,
Wickham - will you ever learn? No one will have the chance to
kill you before I do. You only live because I suffer that you
do."
Wickham looked into
the dead-serious eyes of the colonel. "I get your….point,
Colonel."
"Fitz! What
is this?" cried Darcy as he reentered.
"I was trying
to decide the best way to filet this baggage, cousin."
"Peace, Fitz;
let us give Wickham his last chance first."
Richard hesitated
before re-sheathing his blade. "You always spoil my fun,
Darcy."
Wickham steeped
back and laughed nervously. "Do not sport with me, gentlemen.
Strike down an unarmed man, outnumbered three-to-one? You would
not dare! You'd be taken up for it."
"Don't be so
sure, Mr. Wickham," said Gardiner as he reentered. "You,
a steward's son, have misused the daughter of a gentleman. He,
on the other hand, is an officer and the son of an Earl. Do you
really think he shall be held responsible?"
"A bit of scandal
- what is that to me?" observed Richard with his arms crossed.
Wickham was shaken.
"And…and the Bennet family? Do you care nothing for
them?"
Darcy assumed his
most disinterested air. "They are not my family, Wickham."
Not yet, anyway.
"Mr. Gardiner,
surely you can see the damage such a scandal would do to your
nieces!" cried the desperate man.
Gardiner's rage
was no play-acting. "Are they not already ruined by your
actions, sir? It seems to me your destruction would lessen that
disgrace. Why, it might be forgotten in a twelve-month."
He paused. "Let us get down to cases, Wickham. As Mr. Darcy
said, you have one last chance. He is here on my behalf as my
friend and business partner." It was not true - yet - as
they had not had time to completely discuss the future business
dealings they had mentioned in past conversations. But Wickham
did not need to know Darcy's true motivations. And Gardiner could
lie much better than Darcy. "He has kindly agreed to negotiate
for my family."
To Wickham that
sounded like money. Might he survive? And better yet, might he
make a profit from this? "I am all attention, my good sirs."
"Sit down,
Wickham," commanded the Master of Pemberley to his one-time
playmate. "This is how it is going to be…"
~~~~}+{~~~~
Within a half-hour
the party was on their way back to Cheapside. In one carriage
was a very distraught father, a very disgusted uncle and a very
foolish newly engaged girl of fifteen. In the other rode a very
embarrassed Master of Netherfield with his two companions.
"I am sorry
about striking you, my good fellow," Fitzwilliam said as
he patted Bingley's back.
"Come, Bingley,
say you forgive him," begged Darcy.
"Oh, I already
have; do not be alarmed, Colonel." He shook his head sadly.
"I did it again, didn't I, Darcy?"
"I'm afraid
so, old man." Darcy grinned to himself; Bingley was the
most forgiving man he had ever met. Perhaps that's why he was
his best friend.
"It's just
as well, Bingley," said Fitzwilliam. "We couldn't have
Wickham sticking you, now could we? Miss Bennet would never forgive
us."
Bingley got a hurt
expression on his face, but it was Darcy that answered. "You
might be wrong on that score, Fitz."
"What do you
mean, Darce? You can't doubt Miss Bennet's affection now, can
you?"
"How do you
know about that?" cried Bingley.
"Opps."
He forgot that Darcy had told of it in the strictest confidence.
Darcy frowned. "It
matters not, as I have already told Charles that I was in error
about that. I do not know your source of information, cousin,
but I would advise you to keep a better hold on your tongue,
or Bingley here may make you regret it."
Richard laughed.
"Darcy! Forgive me, my dear Bingley, but I have seen you
fence."
Darcy said, "Not
lately." Richard turned to his cousin. "You mistook
my meaning earlier, Fitz. What you are wrong about was Bingley's
skill with a blade. He has been my fencing partner this last
half-year, and he has progressed very well. I believe he could
take Wickham easily."
Bingley wore a rueful
grin. "It is nice for you to say so, Darce, but I have yet
to beat you."
Not many have. "Ah, but I have also fought Fitz
here, and I would observe that there is not much difference between
the two of you. No, you would be very well matched."
Fitzwilliam began
chuckling at this. Darcy gave his friend a significant look.
"Care to meet me, Colonel?" asked Bingley.
Richard sobered
up at the earnest look in Bingley's eye, but he was never one
to back away from a challenge. "All right, old boy; what
say you to tomorrow afternoon?"
Bingley smiled,
which unnerved the colonel further. "The day following would
be better. Would two o'clock at the fencing club suit you?"
"Done."
Fitz shook Bingley's hand, wondering what he had gotten himself
into.
Darcy smiled. This
should prove to be entertaining.
~~~~}+{~~~~
As the carriages
stopped before the Gardiner house on Gracechurch Street, Darcy
leaned out to take his farewell of the other party. To his surprise,
Mr. Bennet handed over his daughter to Mr. Gardiner and approached
the Darcy carriage.
"Mr. Darcy,"
said the weary man, "I must thank you and your companions
for everything you have done for me and my family."
"Think nothing
of it, sir. We were happy to have been of service."
"Ah - the very
subject I wished to raise with you. Might I have the opportunity
to speak with you tomorrow?"
Darcy frowned. "I
have business with my banker tomorrow morning…"
"No doubt."
"Hmm…yes.
But I am at my leisure afterwards." He handed Bennet his
card. "Shall we say two o'clock?"
Bennet looked at
the card. "Sir! I am honored, but…I did not mean to
invite myself to your home…"
"It is not
Buckingham Palace, sir. I shall see you then."
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