Elizabeth Bennet's Deception: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary by Regina Jeffers

Darcy asked without sympathy.
    “In Brighton and more in Meryton,” Wickham admitted.
    “I see. Your debts are the crux of the matter.” Darcy calculated what it might cost to force Mr. Wickham to claim the parson’s noose.
    Wickham stretched out his legs before him.
    “I require an heiress, so you are welcome to Lydia. She served her purpose.”
    “Which was to provide you a bit of coin to aid in your escape from your creditors,” Darcy summarized.
    Wickham continued to shrug his answers.
    “What can I say? Desperation is necessity’s mother.”
    “Taking the girl’s coin did not necessitate ruining her.”
    “It was Lydia’s idea for an adventure,” Wickham offered in excuse.
    Darcy sucked in a slow, steadying breath. “As no heiress is likely to come your way in thi s fin e establishment and as you cannot be seen upon the streets of London’s better addresses, I would suggest you consider other options. Surely accepting Mr. Bennet’s generosity and claiming Miss Lydia to wife is preferable to debtors’ prison. If your debts are as high as you indicated, you could be sentenced for each infraction–a very long term.”
    “Not if I choose to leave before the authorities discover me,” Wickham asserted.
    “I found you with little effort, and I am certain the authorities will be quick to discover your whereabouts.”
    “And you would assist the magistrates?” Wickham charged.
    “I will not protect you if you choose to run,” Darcy said glibly.
    “And if I choose to stay?” Wickham asked tentatively, but Darcy ignored the question. He wished his former friend to consider carefully his options.
    Darcy glanced to the squalor in which Wickham dwelled. “Miss Elizabeth’s uncle and I will call upon you tomorrow. Mr. Bennet asked Mr. Gardiner to act in his stead.” He turned to go, but paused to say, “If desperation is truly a motive, consider my proposition. It is a viable solution.”
    * * *
    Her sister’s appearance shook Elizabeth to her core.
    “Oh, Lydia!” Of its own accord, Elizabeth’s hand came to her mouth. “Please tell me you did not greet Mr. Darcy dressed as such.”
    Lydia flounced past her to sit in a winged chair.
    “How was I to know it was that stuffy Mr. Darcy at the door?” Her sister straightened her wrapper. “Filled his eyes though!” Lydia giggled foolishly. “You know what a curmudgeon he was in Meryton. Never smiled. Walked about like a constipated gentleman. And you have no idea what he did to poor Wickham. Mr. Darcy slammed Wickham against the door and ordered me from the room!”
    Elizabeth prayed Mr. Darcy kept his temper under control. It would displease her immensely if Mr. Darcy came to harm, and Elizabeth held no doubt Mr. Wickham would not fight with honor.
    “What did Mr. Wickham say to Mr. Darcy to bring forth the gentleman’s response?”
    “What makes you think Wickham spoke from turn? We all knew Mr. Darcy to be a proud, disagreeable man.” Lydia gestured wildly.
    “What did Mr. Wickham say?” Elizabeth repeated.
    With a flippant flick of her unstyled hair, Lydia said, “Something about you and Mr. Darcy taking up together.” Lydia’s gaze fell upon Elizabeth’s features. “You do not have your sights set on the man, do you, Lizzy? He is rich, but…”
    Elizabeth interrupted before her sister’s accusations found a target.
    “After your escapades, none of your sisters are likely to claim a decent marriage. How could you act so foolishly, Lydia?”
    Her sister swung her legs over the chair arm.
    “You are just jealous because Mr. Wickham found me more attractive than you.”
    “The man found you more naïve than other young ladies,” Elizabeth asserted.
    Lydia sprang to her feet.
    “Mr. Wickham loves me.”
    “Has Mr. Wickham professed his regard?” Elizabeth charged. “Said he wishes to claim you to wife?”
    “Not in so many words,” Lydia admitted. She strolled to the window to glance out upon the noisy street. “But Wickham