Page 27 of The Gossip War
He looked even more nervous.
“May I assume you have gathered some sort of evidence to bring me to heel, or perhaps finally decided to allow your cousin to finish me off.”
I wanted to smack him for speaking such vulgarities in front of Elizabeth, but she was not intimidated. “I could make your life extremely uncomfortable by simply detailing your history and your attempt to seduce Miss Long to her uncle. He is not known for his steady temper.”
“Come, come… that was not seduction. That story just—”
I snapped. “Stop this ridiculous discussion. We are immune to your charms. You asked us here for a reason, so get on with it!”
He looked the most nervous he ever had, and I could easily give a half-dozen examples where three stupid boys brought themselves an inch from death. That was one of the things that had made it hard for me to act against him.
Elizabeth said, “I know what you did last summer, Mr Wickham. I suppose you understand how close you are to the cliff edge?”
“I do, Mrs Darcy.”
Elizabeth startled, and I tensed, but he said, “No offence, Miss Elizabeth. I just thought you might like to know what your name would sound like.”
“Not on your lips,” I hissed, but Elizabeth remained calm.
“Out of curiosity, Mr Wickham,” she asked. “Suppose you had succeeded. What would you have done with the money?”
“Waste it on gambling and—” I answered, but thought I should quit while I was ahead. Elizabeth was no wilting flower, but there was no need to be explicit.
Wickham surprised me. “That is not true, though I doubt you would believe me if I told you.”
“Try me!” I snapped, for reasons I could not fathom.
“I would buy an estate and settle down to be a gentleman. It is all I ever wanted.”
I stared at him hard enough to peel paint, but he did not back down.
“Your father was a good man, but he did not understand what it is like to give someone nine-tenths of what it takes to be respectable, then withhold the last tenth. He would have been kinder to give me nothing, or a tradesman’s education.”
That stunned me, but not for long.
“That sounds like an excuse. He gave you the education to be a clergyman, which is a good and respectable living; or to study the law as you suggested you might.”
“Would you be a clergyman?” he snapped, and I paused just long enough to give him an edge.
“I thought not,” he continued, as if he had just won that battle. Perhaps he had.
Elizabeth asked, “I have a hard time believing that Mr Wickham.”
“I would too, Miss Elizabeth. Nobody should ever trust a man like me, but you asked, and I answered. It is your choice whether you believe me or not. I wouldn’t.
We were getting far off track. “Let us get back to it. Why did you call us here? What do you want?”
“Same thing I always did… a way to be a gentleman.”
“The closest you will get to a gentleman is a cellmate in Marshalsea.”
“I assumed as much, hence my request to parley.”
I was instantly suspicious, having been the victim of his schemes more times than I could count.
Elizabeth worked out the critical point first, as usual. “What have you to trade, Mr Wickham? You do not look like a man holding good cards.”
“Gamblers ought not show their cards prematurely, madam. I hold one good hand… probably the last I will be able to play, but play it I must.”
