Page 48 of A Different Impression

“Darcy has always been too soft where Wickham is concerned,” Richard said, although his tone now held more understanding than criticism.

“He was my childhood friend and my father’s much-loved godson,” Darcy admitted. “I never told my father the full extent of Wickham’s behaviour. He knew Wickham was irresponsible, but he never understood his true character or the depths to which he had fallen. By the time I fully recognised it myself, my father was gone.”

Any consideration of Wickham inevitably stirred Darcy’s emotions. Wickham had abused his trust repeatedly, first when they were children and far more seriously as adults. Darcy still carried guilt and grief for the childhood friend he had once loved—and for the truth about Wickham that his father had never lived to learn. The understanding that gradually replaced the criticism in Richard’s expression suggested that his cousin recognised both.

Finally, they agreed that Darcy and Richard would speak to Colonel Forster the following morning. Mr Bennet proposed inviting the colonel to Longbourn for the conversation, thereby preventing Wickham from discovering Darcy and Richard’s presence in Meryton. Colonel Forster could then summon Wickham to his office, where they would offer him two choices: resign his militia commission and enlist in a regiment bound for Portugal, or be taken into custody for his debts.

A note was quickly dispatched to Colonel Forster, and a time was arranged for the meeting at Longbourn the following morning. With only two weeks remaining until the wedding, there was still much to be readied, and Darcy resented having yet another difficulty to resolve. He could only hope that once Wickham had been removed, nothing else would stand between him and his marriage to Elizabeth.

Darcy ought to have spent the morning attending to his approaching wedding. Instead, after a productive meeting with Colonel Forster at Longbourn, he accompanied Richard to the militia headquarters to confront Wickham.

At Colonel Forster’s order, Wickham was brought into the room. He stopped abruptly when he saw Darcy and Richard waiting for him.

“Wickham.” Richard nearly growled the name before shaking his head dismissively. “No—Wickless suits you far better. Fancy meeting you here.” His mouth curved into an almost feral grin.

Wickham’s sudden pallor and faltering voice betrayed his fear. “Fitz… I mean, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” he stammered. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you had joined the militia and came to see it for myself,” Richard replied. “I have also learnt that, in a matter of only a few days, you have already run up debts all over Meryton.”

Wickham’s eyes darted from Richard to Darcy. Beside him, Richard’s mouth twitched with poorly concealed satisfaction.

“You may not have been aware that Darcy was here in Meryton,” Richard continued. “As soon as he saw you, he notified me. Although he knows I would like little better than to run you through, he has, thus far, persuaded me that hanging for your murder would be a poor bargain.”

Richard paused as he watched the miscreant take in his words. “I have found a better option, and Colonel Forster is inclined to agree with me. There are several regiments serving in Portugal, and one in particular is in need of recruits. I have arranged for its colonel to accept you as a private soldier—provided, of course, that you resign your present commission and volunteer for service until lawfully discharged.”

Wickham collapsed into the nearest chair. When a dark stain appeared upon the front of his breeches, Richard’s grim smile widened before he released a sharp, joyless laugh.

“I always knew you were a coward, Wickless,” Richard said. “You prey upon girls of fifteen because their youth makes them easier to deceive.”

Richard turned towards Darcy. “Cousin, I believe Wickless here cannot find it in himself to face either a real regiment or the prospect of Portugal. Would you care to present him with his remaining options?”

Revulsion swept through Darcy as he regarded Wickham. Whatever sympathy he might once have felt for his childhood companion had long since disappeared.

“Suddenly, Cousin, I believe your solution may be the best option. Still, perhaps I should put the others before him, as a courtesy to my father’s godson.”

Wickham flinched at the title, but Darcy did not spare him.

“My father cared for you once, though he did not see you for what you were, only for what he hoped you might become.” Darcy stepped closer, his voice cold. “That regard is the only reason I am offering you a choice.”

Darcy explained that, when he discharged Wickham’s debts in Lambton and Ramsgate, the creditors had formally assigned their claims to him. His solicitor had consequently been able to obtain the necessary civil writ. Richard had brought the assignments, notes, and receipts from Darcy House.

He drew the folded writ from his coat and held it where Wickham could see it.

“You may resign your militia commission and enlist as a private soldier in a regiment bound for Portugal. A recruiting officer is waiting in the adjoining room to take your attestation. If you enlist, I will stay the execution of this writ for as long as you remain faithfully under the colours. If you refuse, the bailiffs will take you into custody for your debts. Should you enlist and subsequently desert, my agreement will become void, and this writ will be the least of your difficulties.”

Taking out his pocket watch, Darcy said, “You have one minute to decide. If you refuse, I shall instruct the bailiffs to take you into custody.”

The watch clicked open in his hand. Darcy lowered his gaze to its face and waited.

Wickham remained pale. His mouth opened, but no sound emerged. For once, he appeared to have no ready lie, no charming smile, and no appeal to the memory of Darcy’s father with which to defend himself. Darcy wondered how he had ever allowed such tactics to influence him.

Darcy closed his watch. “Time is up. Colonel Forster, you may summon the bailiffs.”

“Wait!” Wickham cried. His hands closed around the arms of the chair. “I will enlist.”

Darcy regarded him steadily. “You will resign your commission and enter the Regular Army until you are lawfully discharged?”

Wickham swallowed. “Yes.”