“He accused me of the ruination of his schemes, and I told him I would not allow him to destroy Georgiana’s life. Wickham then said, ‘Once I put her in the family way, I would find other amusements. Your little sister would probably be as dry and boring in bed as you are just existing.’”
His father stared, and he began to doubt whether his father’s faith in the matter could be attained.
“You should examine your son’s knuckles. I imagine he put quite the wallop on Wickham to be so badly bruised.” Uncle Henry gave a head tilt in the direction of the hand which Darcy shifted so what remained of the injury was hidden.
“It is of no importance. If it were not for Elizabeth’s quick thinking, we would have never made it to Pemberley in advance of Wickham. As it is, I informed the magistrate and the constables that I would make arrangements for Wickham within a fortnight.”
“You had him jailed?” asked his father in disbelief. “How does that protect your sister’s reputation?”
“He was jailed for debts; otherwise, he would have disappeared without paying, as he has done in the past.”
“If he were as bad as you claim, I would have heard word of debts in Lambton by now.” The elder Darcy wore a sceptical expression as he leaned against the desk behind him. “Rebecca and you,” he said with a nod towards Uncle Henry, “have attempted to convince me of this for years. I have never seen evidence of him gambling or amassing large debts, rather he has remained a loyal companion as his father was before him.”
After staring for a moment at a miniature of Wickham kept upon a shelf, the elder Darcy took long looks at both him and his uncle. “I cannot accept that Wickham would behave in such a fashion with Georgiana. Perhaps if Georgiana had remained, I might be more convinced…”
Darcy’s head shook. Would his father never trust in him? “She was not present for that conversation. I had gone to make arrangements for her trunk. I only returned when I had the necessary papers, and in the presence of the constables, who I am certain would attest to Wickham’s threats when he was taken away.”
“And what debts did you pay?” asked his father. “I would not have left him without funds to pay his expenses.”
Uncle Henry gave a snort. “He likely gambled away the bulk of his allowance.”
Darcy stepped forward before his uncle and father could begin an argument. “Are you aware that he stayed for a se’nnight at an inn in Ramsgate? A bill he had no intention of paying as he departed the establishment without the owner’s knowledge—which included an entire week’s lodging, meals, and ale. He had also seen fit to purchase himself a new suit.”
“No doubt, he wished to look his best when he courted Georgiana.” Uncle Henry’s glare towards the elder Darcy was thunderous. His uncle had always despised George Darcy’s blind affection for the boy, and with the scheme against Georgiana, his anger for the situation had worsened.
“Uncle! You are not helping matters now.”
“Whether it helps matters not, I am sick to death of your father’s loyalty to a leech who does not deserve what he has been given. Wickham is an unappreciative little whelp!” He stood and slammed down the glass, breaking the stem.
“You have funded this boy for years,” he yelled as he stood face to face with the elder Darcy. “You have called your own son a liar, and accepted the word of a worthless scab since you took the boy into your home. He has beaten your son, blackmailed him, and ensured you were never told of his exploits.
“Your stable manager attempted to tell you once, do you remember? Within a fortnight there was the accident within the stables and one of the horses was killed.”
“Johns did not lock up as he aught.”
Darcy shook his head. “I checked the stables that evening. Everything was locked tight when Johns was finished. We have never discovered Wickham’s means of entering that night, so we could never prove his complicity.”
“Have you ever questioned your servants? I would wager everything I own they have Wickham pegged.” Uncle Henry began towards the door. “In fact, where is Mrs. Reynolds?”
He opened the heavy oak panel and peered out where a footman stood at the end of the hall. “You there, please ask Mrs. Reynolds to join us in the library.”
The footman gave a bow and hurried off. “I will prove to you once and for all the worthlessness of that young man.”
With a shake of his head, George Darcy closed the door. “This is not necessary. I will hear what you have to say, though I still insist that I would have heard of any debts he had in Lambton.”
A frustrated exhale escaped Darcy’s lungs. “When I discovered the amount of the credit given to Wickham by the tradesmen in Lambton, I paid them, but with the understanding that I would only cover his debts the one time. I do not believe any one has extended credit to him since. Last I heard, he no longer ventures into Lambton, and instead, rides to Kympton and Buxton.”
Mrs. Reynolds hurried in and curtsied. “You wished to see me, sir?”
“Not me, Mrs. Reynolds. Lord Matlock has some questions he would ask you.”
Her expression became puzzled as she pivoted to Uncle Henry. “Of course, Lord Matlock. How may I be of service?”
“Mrs. Reynolds, I would appreciate it greatly if you could give us your honest opinion of Mr. Wickham?”
Her eyes widened and her mouth opened without a sound escaping. Her gaze darted to her master as though she was requesting permission.
“Your honest opinion, if you please,” continued Uncle Henry.
The elder Darcy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Please, what do you think of Mr. Wickham?”
“But I could never speak ill of one of the household, sir.” Her voice was tentative and worried.
George Darcy stood straight and took a long stride forward. “Now, I insist upon it. What have you to say about the man?”
She peered to each of them, her eyes betraying her anxiety, and cleared her throat. “We thought it a noble thing you did, taking the boy in and all, but he soon began to behave as though he owned the place.”
“How do you mean?” His father took another step forward.
“Well, at first, he began to give orders. He would tell the maids he wanted clean sheets when it was not the day for it. He would insist the nightshirts the cook and I made him were not sufficient. He wanted ones identical to the ones the young master wore.
“After a year or two, he began to make advances towards a few of the younger maids.”
“What?” exclaimed his father. “Why was I never told?”
Her eyes again darted back and forth between her master and his son. “By that time, sir, Mr. Johns in the stables had attempted to inform you of the problems he caused for young Master Fitzwilliam. You insisted it was no more than boyhood mischief, so I dared not broach it with you.”
George Darcy retreated back to his desk and clenched its edge.
“Is there more?” asked Uncle Henry.
“Yes, sir.” Her worried eyes remained on her master. “I solved the problem by instructing the maids to never be alone. They were to always work in pairs.”
“Very industrious of you.” With a quirk of the lips, Uncle Henry showed his approbation.
“Thank you, sir. Since then, I heard the tales of young Wickham’s debts in Lambton as well as those of the young master when he paid the debts. I know the tradesmen there no longer extend credit to Wickham.
“I am also aware of children he has fathered in the local area.”
The elder Darcy again pinched the bridge of his nose. “Am I aware of any of these children?”
“Yes, sir. Your tenants, the Smiths, have taken in two boys, which are both natural sons of Wickham’s.”
He groaned. “They were such a blessing to the family after they lost their own children in the fire. I never considered their origin.”
“Their mothers are different girls.” Her eyes darted between the three men as she continued. “The elder is the natural grandson of the butcher i
n Kympton, and the younger is the result of his seduction of the innkeeper’s youngest daughter.”
“The inn in Lambton?”
“Kympton, sir. Each arranged for relatives to take the girls in until their confinement. I knew of the Smiths’ predicament, and put them in touch with the fathers. There was a third, but the young girl and the babe died in childbirth.”
“Who was the girl?” asked his father.
“The vicar’s daughter from over in Buxton. She passed almost a year ago now.”
“Mrs. Reynolds, did you ever see evidence Mr. Wickham beat my nephew when they were boys?”
“I did. His valet desired my opinion on how best to treat the injuries.” She looked to the younger Darcy with tears in her eyes. “Poor Master Fitzwilliam! The bruises to his ribs were just dreadful!”
“I do not understand…” George Darcy shook his head vehemently.
“Sir, if you will pardon me for speaking freely. Mr Wickham is a practiced liar. The boy and man I see around Master Fitzwilliam or the maids is a different animal than that who courts your favour. He simpers and fawns and pretends to be what he is not.”
“I am grieved and shocked.” His father’s pale visage spoke volumes to his state. “I feel I owe you an apology, Mrs. Reynolds. I disregarded everyone. I wanted to believe Wickham was like his father, like my good friend, when in fact, he is as much an opposite as one can be.” He shook his head and rubbed his face. “You should have felt you could approach me with the problem of the maids.”
“What is done is done, sir. We cannot go back and change matters.”
“But you can change how you deal with Wickham in the future, George. You must protect Georgiana before he damages her reputation.”
Mrs. Reynolds gasped. “Please tell me he has not imposed himself on our Miss Darcy!”
Uncle Henry placed a hand upon her shoulder. “Not to worry. He has hoped for more than what he has received, but he will spread lies and tarnish her reputation if we do not act soon to stop him.”
“Oooh, that boy! I have wanted to take him over my knee for years.”
“It would have done him a great deal of good, I am sure.” Under different circumstances, Mrs. Reynolds comment would make Darcy laugh, but instead he gave a small smile. “Thank you.” He peered over to his father, who leaned over the desk supported by his arms. “We know where to find you should we require more information.”
She gave a nod and departed, her keys rattling against her chatelaine.
“We need to make a decision in regards to him, and soon. I must pen a letter to the constable and magistrate.” Darcy gestured towards the paper and quill upon the desk to garner his father’s attention.
“There is also the predicament of Mrs. Younge.”
“What of Mrs. Younge?” asked his father weakly.
“She is with child, and she claims Wickham is the father.” Darcy’s hand rubbed across his forehead as he attempted to stave off a headache, but the action, thus far, was not of any help. “I am reluctant to be of aid to her, but she did provide more information as to Wickham’s motives after his arrest.”
“Was not Georgiana’s ruin enough?” His father slumped against the edge of his desk.
“If she is truthful, then it was not. He did wish for access to her dowry, which he intended to use to keep Mrs. Younge.” His father winced. “But he was also of the idea that I was disinherited from Pemberley, and expected it to pass to Georgiana.”
Uncle Henry poured himself another brandy. “He is mad!”
“Even had I the power to change its disposition, I would have never allowed Pemberley to fall into his hands. He is not a Darcy, and should his plan have succeeded, I would have had him put on a ship to New South Wales or a similar colony. It would be preferable to see Georgiana live with the shame of being deserted than with someone who duped or forced her into an elopement.”
Uncle Henry took Wickham’s miniature from the mantel and handed it to his father. “Perhaps that should be our plan to rid ourselves of him now.”
Darcy’s eyebrows raised in the direction of his uncle and father. “We could arrange for Mrs. Younge and Wickham to wed, and then banish them together; although, I do wonder where you got the idea for that scheme?” Darcy chuckled and Uncle Henry rolled his eyes.
“The plan has merit!”
“I believe they both have merit.” His father was still ashen as he straightened and faced him. “I owe you an apology for a wrong for which I can never make atonement.”
Uncle Henry nodded. “Indeed you do, and Fitzwilliam, you will not excuse the offenses away.”
“Uncle, I believe this should be between father and myself.”
“He is correct, son. I have taken Wickham’s part over yours for far too long. I believed you were jealous of the time I spent with him when his father died. His father was such a good man, and Wickham had always been such a well-behaved boy. I never dreamt he had such evil propensities.
“Poor Johns!” His father rubbed his forehead. “I have wronged him as well, but I do not know why you allowed it.”
With a heavy exhale, Darcy dropped into the nearest chair. “We both knew what happened that night, but we had no proof and Johns refused to let me vouch for him. He knew Wickham would revenge himself upon me, and he had seen me beaten too many times. I needed a good stable manager at Sagemore, so…”
“So you gave him a place rather than see Wickham punished?”
“Would Wickham have been punished without proof?” asked his uncle. “You never believed them in the past, so why would you have believed them then?
His father took a seat behind the desk and leaned his forearms upon it. “I have given matters a great deal of thought lately. I have heard the gossip of you in town, and I am aware of whispers of Wickham dallying with widows and a few card games, which I never bothered to correct. They were not maidens, and whilst I did not condone the action, it was not as though he was ruining innocents.” He dropped his forehead into his palm. “Only he was.
“My abominable pride prevented me from taking other’s opinions of him and determining the truth.”
Darcy shook his head. “I am still amazed we convinced you today.”
He sighed. “How could I refute it? Georgiana insistence you told the truth, compounded with the gossip, and finally, Mrs. Reynolds’ confirmation of his character. I made a promise to his father, and as I just said, I have been convinced the son was of the same ilk.”
A glance between his father and uncle gave the indication they were both of a mind to make a final resolution. “We should make this decision now, so I can leave on the morrow.”
The elder Darcy shook his head. “No, I created this mess, and I will journey to Ramsgate to repair the damage I have wrought.
“I will see that Wickham weds Mrs. Younge. Assuming he was after my daughter’s dowry, he will be unable to scheme against another with similar intentions. Mrs. Younge will have a child and be a married woman. She will not again seek employment as a companion with such a situation.”
“You will see them wed and then leave them to their own devices?” Uncle Henry’s tone was incredulous.
“No, I will give Wickham three-thousand pounds and passage to one of the colonies. I will allow him to choose where. I hope by providing him with such a sum, I will have discharged my duty to his father.”
Uncle Henry regarded the elder Darcy with concern. “You fulfilled your promise years ago, George. I do not believe the money is necessary, but if it assuages your guilt in the matter then we will not dissuade you.”
His father gazed at him with an earnest expression. “Fitzwilliam, I will have to leave early on the morrow. Would you be willing to remain at Pemberley with Georgiana? I would be easier knowing she is well looked after.”
“I appreciate your confidence, but Elizabeth is at Matlock. I will not be without her—without my family—for as long as it may take for you to conclude your business.”
“Of cou
rse; your wife may stay as well.”
Darcy stared at his father with a stunned countenance. “I will need to consult with her on the matter. I am positive she would agree since she has been concerned about Georgiana since Ramsgate, but I will not presume to answer for her.”
“I remember well consulting with your mother on such matters. If you could perhaps send an express when you return to Matlock…”
“Georgiana would be welcome to stay with us,” offered his uncle. “Though I do understand if you wish her to remain here.”
His father shook his head. “It may be best to leave the decision to her. Mrs. Reynolds and the staff will mind her well, but after today, I believe I prefer her to have a member of the family until I return.”
Georgiana and Huntley could be seen as they strolled through the formal gardens, and Darcy strode over to a set of French doors to call them both inside. Once his sister returned, she stepped before their father with an apprehensive mien.
“Please forgive me for not informing you of Mrs. Younge and Mr. Wickham.”
“It is I who must beg your forgiveness.” His father placed a kiss to her forehead and took her hands. “I should have not banished your brother as I did. You would not have sought him out in secret, if I had not behaved so. It was because of my actions—my greed—you were put in peril. I realised at Christmas how my demands alienated my own son, yet I was too proud to admit I was in the wrong.”
Darcy stared at his father, his mouth agape. Had his father just admitted he should not have schemed as he had? Could he have truly seen the errors of his ways so long ago?
“Oh, Papa!” She threw her arms about her father’s neck, and the elder Darcy held her to him. “I do wish you had listened to Fitzwilliam, but you did as you thought best. It was not what he or Anne desired. Yet, everything has worked out as it ought. You will come to love Lizzy. I am certain of it!”
Uncle Henry gave a pleased chuckle. “We hope he will, but Georgie, let us take one matter at a time. Your father hoped your brother would stay with you here—at Pemberley.”
“What a wonderful idea! I could take Lizzy riding and show her all of my favourite spots.”
An Unwavering Trust Page 46
