“Well?” she asked when he did not seem inclined to speak. “Did you take care of it? Are you betrothed to Eliza Bennet?”
Mr. Wickham’s expression was not particularly triumphant; a knot of anxiety began to form in Caroline’s stomach. “I encountered some difficulties,” he said slowly.
“Of what kind?” she snapped.
“Of the Darcy kind.”
“Did she agree to marry you?”
“Yes, but—”
“Good!” She clapped her hands together.
“But,” Wickham’s voice rose, “Darcy arrived right after, and…well…he kissed her.”
“Kissed her!” Caroline’s hand flew to her throat. How disgusting. The words conjured up such horrible images.
Wickham scratched the back of his head. “He made a big show of it. I believe he was attempting to compromise her so she could not marry me.”
Caroline’s nostrils flared. “Nonsense! He would not do such a thing. Not to her. He was simply drawn in—momentarily—by her arts and allurements.”
Wickham’s shrug eloquently conveyed: “If you say so.”
“He could not possibly have any lasting attachment to her,” Caroline muttered. “She is so…skinny, and her skin is so brown.”
Wickham raked Caroline with a dubious—and, to her mind, insolent—stare from head to toe. “She is pretty enough.”
She wanted to throw things. She was paying the blackguard! Could he not at least assure her that she was prettier?
Wickham shifted on the bench. “Then yesterday I received a note from Miss Bennet saying she could not marry me after all.”
Caroline nearly fell off the bench. “Good heavens! Are they betrothed?” That would be a disaster.
“I doubt it. She seemed very angry when he just up and kissed her. She punched him pretty hard.”
How unladylike! Still… Caroline settled back into the bench. “Good, good.”
“Of course, ten thousand a year is quite an inducement…”
Good Lord, why must the man remind her? “I know.” She could not fathom what Mr. Darcy saw in the upstart country miss, and Eliza Bennet’s behavior was even more inexplicable. While Caroline would not have preferred to be kissed in a public place, she would not have objected too strenuously if Mr. Darcy were doing the kissing. She certainly would not strike him; that was unforgiveable.
Wickham stared glumly at the river. “I think the whole business is hopeless. Although I am not returning your money,” he added hastily.
“Nonsense!” Caroline exclaimed. “We must simply find another way to separate them.”
“What can we do?”
“Can you regain her trust?”
Wickham considered for a long moment. “Possibly…I doubt Darcy will have told her everything about me.”
Caroline had no doubt Wickham had behaved detestably toward Mr. Darcy, but the details were irrelevant. This wretch was the only person at the moment who could prevent the master of Pemberley from marrying the wrong woman.
“I doubt I could get her to agree to another engagement,” Wickham volunteered.
She waved her hand. “That is immaterial. You must simply separate her from Mr. Darcy by whatever means possible. Lie to her. Seduce her. Tell her what she needs to hear. Whatever it takes.”
Wickham stroked his chin dubiously. “But what if she refuses to listen to me?”