Page 57 of The Widower of Pemberley

As soon as Darcy pushed her towards his sister, Emily started to cry with great sobs, and she reached for Darcy. “Papa, Papa! Hold me! Papa!”

Georgiana attempted to carry the struggling girl back into the drawing room.

“I never did it!” The statement seemed directed towards Georgiana more than anyone else.

Darcy’s sister froze in place and turned, Emily still in her arms, staring at Wickham with something in her eyes that suggested that she wished to listen to him with all her soul.

Wickham spoke clearly, loud enough to be heard over Emily’s sobbing. “He is lying—Denny, Carter, he only wishes to kill me because I am a witness. The only witness. I saw Mr. Darcy throw Mrs. Darcy from the balcony. If he kills me, there will not be anyone who can swear to the truth. I will not meet him. I will not. But not because I am a coward. I am not a coward!”

Gasps went around the room.

“Mr. Wickham,” Darcy said, his voice ice cold, “if you wish to swear your lies as honest truth before a Justice of the Peace, I am prepared to wait to meet you until my name has been cleared at the assizes.”

“They never punish the rich for the evil they do,” Wickham cried out. “Everyone knowsthat. You will bribe enough witnesses. Your servants will lie for you. I know that the great judge who is your friend will see you acquitted if a prosecution is brought against you. We all know that it is pointless to use the law topunish a man of great consequence. But I saw. And I shall tell everyone.”

“By God, if you do not mean to bring a prosecution, then meet him!” Captain Carter exclaimed. “If any of what you say is true—which I doubt—Mr. Darcy offered you enough of an insult that you are a worthless fellow if you will not fight him. By God, prove that you are not a stain on my regiment.”

Wickham wiped his hands on his breeches. “I must see justice done for Mary. Yes. I must. I stayed silent because of my love for your father and mother. But I must make it known what you did. I cannot fight you until everyone knows.”

“Then go to a deuced Justice of the Peace!” Darcy exclaimed. “But after the jury has cleared my name, will you let me shoot you? Or must I satisfy myself with bringing suit for slander and throwing you in gaol when you cannot pay the damages?”

“You always hated me because your father loved me more!” Wickham exclaimed. “And Mary loved me better as well. You wish to kill me for that jealousy.”

Emily began wailing again and reaching for Darcy. “Papa! Hold me, Papa!”

Georgiana started; her attention had been wholly absorbed in watching the proceedings, and she had not managed to carry her niece away. Emily threw herself from her aunt’s arms, hit her head on the floor, and ran sobbing to Darcy.

Darcy picked up his child, half mechanically.

He kissed her hair and bounced her, but she sobbed and sobbed.

Suddenly it was impossible for him to demand once more that Wickham meet him.

“The deuce!” Captain Carter exclaimed. He grabbed Wickham’s arm and dragged him towards the vestibule, saying, “Worthless,worthless, worthless fellow. Denny, by God, we were not so desperate for officers that you needed to enticethisthing into the regiment.”

“I am not a coward,” Wickham repeated softly. “I am not. I must tell everyone.”

“Then accept the challenge,” the captain sneered, “and meet him like a man of honour.”

Wickham turned back to Darcy. He swallowed. His face was pale. “I…Mr. Darcy, you make it so that I have no choice. I will meet you. Tomorrow.”

“Good.” Darcy replied, feeling sick.

Emily clung tightly to him.

Did he really mean to kill his frightened old friend?

Would that not be murder?

Did Darcy really mean to risk his life, when he was about to marry Elizabeth?

What would Emily think if he died?

What would happen to Emily?

He had promised her that he would not fall from a balcony like her mama, but risking his life in a duel with Wickham was just as stupid as Mary deciding to meet the man by climbing down from her window with a rope twisted out of her bedsheets.

Darcy’s voice was completely steady when he said to his cousin, “Colonel Fitzwilliam, arrange matters with whichever gentleman Mr. Wickham selects to represent him.”