Mr. Darcy's Promise (37 page)

Darcy ignored Colonel Forster’s presence in the room. “How much? I mean, Mr. Denny, how much did Wickham promise you, because I am prepared to double it.” He saw the surprise in Denny’s face followed by a twitch of the upper lip. “Just give me a moment of your time. That is all I am asking.” He started walking towards the tent door and held open the flap, motioning Denny to go through it. His years of negotiation had taught him to give the other party the appearance of the upper hand without granting them any actual power. Denny slowly walked out of the tent and Darcy followed. Darcy took the lead, another thing he learned from years of business propositions, and led the way to the trees off to the right. One had to make the decisions but make it seem like the choice was still there for the other to agree or disagree, when in reality there was only one option.

“Look here, Mr. Darcy. I do not know what you think you want from me, but it is not worth it. I do not know anything.” The fact that Mr. Darcy opened with doubling Wickham’s offer only meant Darcy was desperate, and that put Denny in a very good position to negotiate for more.

“Let us start off with some honesty. I know Wickham wanted Mr. Bennet to witness Wickham kissing Elizabeth, and I know you were a key player in making sure that happened. Since it did not happen the way it was supposed to, I am guessing you never got paid. Am I accurate?” Darcy didn’t have time to play games. He needed answers.

“I did not do anything illegal if that is what you are getting at. It was Wickham’s idea.”

“I take that as confirmation that Wickham indeed did not pay you. Let us get to the point. I need Wickham. I have a business proposition for him, and it is one that, if you play your cards right, you might profit in more ways than one.” Darcy saw the suspicious look cross Denny’s face.

“How so?
You think you are going to pay me double what he owes me and then pay him so he can pay me too? That is . . .”
A better plan than I could think of!
He was suddenly very interested in this option. Without realizing it, he licked his lips. He could feel the financial freedom just beyond his reach, tantalizing him. “I confess that is an interesting idea.”

“Indeed, you are a great deal cleverer than Wickham gives you credit for.” Flattery was always a good tool with negotiations. “Now, we can work out the numbers later but my word is my bond. I will pay you, but you must give me Wickham. He has something of value
of mine and I would like it back.” Then realizing it sounded like his plan was simply to find Wickham, which it was, instead of paying the man, which it wasn’t, he added, “And I am planning to pay the price he dictated in his letter. I am prepared to pay whatever it takes, but I am limited in my business ventures if I do not know where to find the man.”

Mr. Denny struggled silently for a moment. Wickham owed him over six months’ salary, and he was going to pay him double to retrieve Mr. Bennet. If Mr. Darcy doubled that still . . . that meant nearly three years of salary in his pockets. It did not take him long to realize he really was smarter than Wickham. Mr. Darcy was, if nothing else, at least good for the money. “And if I do not know much? Are you still going to pay me?”

“As long as it is all you know. I am not paying you to withhold secrets from me.” Darcy knew he had the man in his grip; he could see him folding right before his eyes. Denny rubbed his chin before he began to pace.

“A couple of nights ago he and I got into a fight. A couple of good punches, that is all. I did not really hurt him much. For weeks he had told me that I would get my money any day. I told him I needed it and I was not about to let his debt of honor go unnoticed any longer.”

Darcy resisted the urge to pace. “Can we just get to the point? Where is Wickham now?”

“He said he was heading north for a more ‘profitable business’ opportunity. He said he knew how to get the money he owed me and that I should be patient. He claimed he would be gone no more than a week. He said it was two days north of here so he would meet me in Brighton after the militia transferred there.” Denny watched as Darcy flinched at this news. “He said he grew up there and knew it like the back of his hand and he also said something like ‘by now I should be expected to show up on their doorstep.’”

Wickham was going to Pemberley? He felt a little nausea come on. “When exactly did he leave? What day and how was he traveling?”

“I believe it was Tuesday right after lunch. He traveled by post; I know because I lent him the money. Are you going to pay me for that as well?” Denny watched Darcy fall silent, deep in thought for a moment. Had he gone too far and asked for too much?

Today was Friday and it usually took three days of comfortable travel to get from Meryton to Pemberley. Elizabeth and he had traveled uncomfortably long days and made it all the way to London in two. Suddenly the truth hit him; Wickham could already be there!
Georgiana!
Darcy realized that his hasty departure could very well contain the worst timing possible. Even if he left today, and traveled on Sunday, which he didn’t normally do, Georgiana would be at risk for at least four days before he returned.

Wickham was dangerous when he felt desperate. Wickham was unpredictable, unstable, and yet very good at his conniving ways. Darcy’s nausea worsened and he swallowed the fluids in his mouth before he spoke.

“Was he armed?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know for sure because there was little he could do about it until at least two and a half days from now.

Denny nodded. “Yes, he was dressed in his uniform and he took his pistol with him. He said he needed a little ‘negotiation power.’ Look here,
Darcy, that is all I know. Truly. I was not all that happy with him and had already succumbed to the realization that I would never see that money again but I took it as a gamble. If I lent him the traveling money, I might actually get back what he owes me. Now can I have my money?”

“Certainly.
You were most helpful.” He didn’t like the news he got from him, but Darcy couldn’t deny that it had been helpful. As he wrote out the bank note for the amount Denny claimed, he once again felt the need to vomit. Colonel Fitzwilliam was perfectly capable of protecting Georgiana. He knew that. But at the present moment, Richard was completely ignorant of Wickham’s plans. Even as he signed his name to the draft, he began crafting a plan.

He would send an express in the next hour, pay the rider double what he normally would for them to ride hard and fast, and hopefully the horseback rider will get there by tomorrow afternoon. He and
Elizabeth would leave today—hopefully in the next two hours, or they would end up traveling in the dark before they arrived at their country estate north of here. Then tomorrow, Saturday, they would leave for the day and a half ride to Pemberley. But before they left Meryton, he wanted to complete one task remaining to him. That was the jeweler’s. He wanted his pocketwatch and Elizabeth’s necklace back and knowing Wickham, he pawned them for the much-needed money.

Darcy steeled himself. He felt better with a plan; much less helpless. He handed Mr. Denny the bank note, tipped his hat in the barest attempt at civility, and left in a hurry. He had only the next few hours to complete the tasks he would normally allot to a day.

Mr. Darcy stopped by Netherfield and informed the staff to ready their trunks for immediate departure. He then borrowed Bingley’s study to write his express. He sealed it with his crest, silently praying that it would reach Richard in time. He made certain to specifically inform him that Wickham was armed, and that Richard was free to use any of the pistols in the cabinet in his study, should they be needed. He was relieved that Richard would know how to use it if necessary. Once the trunks were ready, he climbed aboard the carriage, and had the driver stop by the jeweler’s before heading to Longbourn.

*****

Elizabeth tried to read Mr. Darcy’s eyes, but her mother’s shrill voice was louder than her own thoughts. Had he found Wickham? Did it go as it was intended to? All she could see was worry and fear. Something was not right.

“Oh, my dear Mr. Darcy!
You look so very handsome today! Come in and have some raspberry tarts; they are the last raspberries of the season. You cannot get finer raspberries at Pemberley, and I do not care what how much you refute it!”

Elizabeth continued to watch Mr. Darcy. He wore his old “Master of Pemberley” expression, and, rather than answer, he took out his silver
pocketwatch and looked at the time. He wasn’t making eye contact either. Something was definitely not right. “Mother, can you give me a moment alone with my husband? I need to discuss something with him.”

“Oh yes!
Discuss
away!” Just when Elizabeth thought they would be free of her, her mother returned for one last blow. “Do you know, Lizzy, I cannot wait for little grandchildren to start coming. I should have known you wanted to welcome him properly. What a good wife you are. I knew this was a good match.” Mrs. Bennet then departed without seeing— or choosing not to see— the shocked look on Elizabeth’s face.

“I am sorry for my mother. I thought she would let up once I was married but apparently now she has her heart set on grandchildren.”
Even saying it out loud made her blush. Her mother clearly did not know they had not even consummated the marriage yet. Mr. Darcy reached his hand up to her blushing cheek and finally met her eyes with his.

Mr. Darcy wanted to say something like
“I would like to spend many a nights trying to accommodate my mother-in-law’s desires.”
But he stayed focused. Instead he said, “We have to go. And right away, Elizabeth.”

“Is everything well?” He shook his head. “Tell me, William.” He was not obviously physically hurt, that she could tell, and she realized with a sinking heart that he had not been gone all that long.
Which only meant that he did not find Wickham.

“I can tell you on the way to our second country estate. It is located four hours north of here. If we get on the road early enough we can make it before dark. Say your farewells quickly, I do not want to be traveling in the dark and it is nearly two o’clock now.” Darcy squeezed her hand and kissed it. “Quickly, please. You know I would not ask if the situation were not so dire.”

Elizabeth took a moment to collect her thoughts. “You have another country estate besides Pemberley?”

“Yes. I rarely stay there, as I prefer to make the trip from Pemberley to London in two long tiring days as we did on the way out rather than break it up into three, but my father thought it would be a useful asset since it is conveniently located on the road to London. It will be perfect for tonight. Tomorrow we can make most
of the journey to Pemberley but there will still be fifty miles we will have to make the day after tomorrow, on Monday.” He shook his head. “I am sorry, but we must make progress in our travels. Please, Elizabeth, make haste.”

Elizabeth nodded, and quickly left to make her excuses and promises to return for Jane’s wedding. She took Jane aside and embraced her. She had missed her more than anyone. She picked up her reticule, and when it was heavier than usual, she realized that she never gave her father the book.

“One more minute, I need to give my father his book.” She hurried to give it to him. She was back in no time and took her husband’s offered arm and he handed her into the carriage. Their urgency of their departure was obvious to any who might look: their trunks were already loaded.

Mr. Darcy did not know how much he should tell Elizabeth, but after some consideration, he decided that telling all of it was appropriate.
The more people keeping an eye out for Wickham, the better. He proceeded to tell her what he knew and all he had done so far about it.

“I do not mean to worry you in telling you this news, but I do not feel I should keep that kind of thing secret. I trust you and I have always believed that knowledge always provides power. Ignorance is harmful; secrets worse yet.”

“Not to mention that I would simply nag you until you told me.” She smiled at him, but his answering smile was vague and distant. She had been hoping to lighten his mood a little, but could see that their three day journey would be a solemn one.

*****

Last night they arrived at the country estate before dark, the sun had set but there was still lingering light enough to make their way through the streets to the estate. The house was smaller than Longbourn, but still beautiful. It had been a quiet ride. Neither one wanted to talk about what they didn’t know could be happening at Pemberley. Would the express arrive in time? Would Wickham become violent once he realized Darcy was not there to give him his money? Would Colonel Fitzwilliam be able to keep Georgiana safe?

On the day after their brief stay at the country estate, both fell asleep with worry and lack of sleep from the night before. Elizabeth had
fallen asleep first with Darcy’s arm around her and he lowered her shoulders and head to his lap, but it wasn’t long before Darcy was deeply asleep as well.

He was having dreams again of the chickens, but this time Elizabeth wasn’t there. He kept calling out to her, “Elizabeth! Dearest Elizabeth!” But she wouldn’t come. He looked for her around the pen and he looked for her in the barn. He looked for her in the hay loft and he looked for her around the back of the barn. She wasn’t anywhere. He sat down on the hay bale and felt frustrated. He had looked for her everywhere, had called out “Elizabeth” over and over again but she was nowhere to be found. However, he knew she was here. He could feel her closeness in his body. He went back out to the pen and tried calling her once again. This time he used the nickname she grew up with, “Lizzy! Where are you?” Suddenly the fat yellow mother hen who had sat on the eggs all that time came waddling over to him, its familiar deep brown eyes looking up at him expectantly. Following her were the seven baby chicks
who all had their feathers now. The yellow one, the one he named Lizzy, looked exactly like the mother. He just stared at the mother hen. He had called “Lizzy” and the hen came, not the chick he named Lizzy, but the hen. The hen whose eyes were familiar. It dawned on him why they were familiar; its eyes were those of Elizabeth’s. He felt like he was beginning to understand something important. Just then Sparks came around with his pitchfork.