Page 62 of The Crown’s Gift

In Wickham's coat they found Georgiana's genuine letters from Ramsgate, two forged additions in imitation of her hand, a list of payments demanded, and a pistol he had not managed to draw. The marked notes remained in his grasp.

Colonel Forster removed his insignia himself.

"You are under arrest."

Wickham looked toward Darcy. "You will not permit a trial. Her name will be spoken in open court."

Darcy went rigid.

Sir Thomas answered. "The forged drafts already under investigation will support charges without naming Miss Darcy publicly. The magistrate has the evidence. Your belief that shame makes women silent has failed you."

For the first time, Wickham looked afraid.

Darcy returned to Netherfield after one in the morning. Georgiana waited in the hall. When she saw his uninjured hands, relief crossed her face.

"It is done," he said. "He cannot reach you."

"You did not fight him."

"I nearly did. Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded me."

"But you stopped."

Darcy nodded.

Georgiana embraced him. Over her shoulder, he saw Elizabeth near the stairs.

Later, after Georgiana had gone to bed with Mary in the adjoining room, Elizabeth found Darcy on the terrace. Dawn had begun to pale the eastern edge of the park.

"Papa says the evidence is sufficient."

"Yes. Wickham will be held for the forged drafts and extortion. The Ramsgate letters can remain sealed unless required."

"Georgiana is free of him."

Darcy looked toward the windows above. "I thought money and secrecy had protected her. They only protected the silence in which he returned."

Elizabeth stood beside him. Their sleeves nearly touched.

"Mary found the letter because Georgiana had begun to trust her," she said. "You helped them meet."

"And then left my sister where Wickham could reach her."

"At Netherfield, with Mrs Annesley and all of us. You cannot become responsible for every evil choice another person makes."

"You once accused me of trying," he said.

"I accused you of making other people's choices. That is different from blaming yourself for them."

The first birds began in the trees.

"At Hunsford," Darcy said, "I told myself your accusations were anger. Then I discovered anger can be accurate."

Elizabeth's breath caught. "And I read your letter and discovered accuracy can coexist with prejudice. I was wrong about Wickham. I enjoyed believing him because it confirmed what I already thought of you."

"Your first judgment of my manners required little assistance from him."

"No."