“What sort of slander?” Fitzwilliam asked.
“He called Lady Hamilton a ‘fallen woman’ and Master Matthew a bastard.”
“What? The fool and idiot!” Fitzwilliam muttered. “Miss Bennet was correct to name him such at dinner last night.”
“His words stirred Mrs. Bennet so that she ordered him from the house without any supper and when he did not remove himself, Lady Elizabeth commanded me to throw the man out the front door.”
“And did you?”
“Yes sir. Mr. Collins hardly touched the floor as I helped him from the house and Mr. Hill threw his coat and hat after him.”
“You say that Collins is the heir to the estate; how did that come about?”
“There is an entail and the Bennet daughters do not inherit.”
Nodding his head, Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “That explains the man’s stories at the inn regarding his designs to marry one of the sisters – I believe that Miss Bennet is the object of his design.”
“No longer,” Barrow reported with confidence. “As I helped Collins leave the house, he swore that the day he inherited the estate, that everyone present in the house would be thrown out into the ditches to starve.”
Fitzwilliam looked pensive as he asked, “And this man’s connections to the Lady Catherine de Bourgh. What were they?”
“It was something about the man serving as rector in a living at her disposal sir,” Barrow explained. “She has made him a grateful clergyman and he could talk of her for an hour without pause or repetition.”
“And what were Lady Elizabeth’s commands regarding Mr. Collins?”
“I am to set the dogs on him if he returns before Mr. Bennet returns.”
“Very good,” Fitzwilliam said. “Do just that and use my name for confirmation of your orders if questioned by the magistrate. Lady Hamilton has handled the matter well.”
“Excuse me sir, Mrs. Hamilton asks that we not use that title while we are at Longbourn,” Barrow reminded the colonel.
++**++
In the parlour, Bingley and Jane moved away from the sofa where Elizabeth had taken Matthew and fed him bits of biscuit dipped in her tea cup while Mr. Darcy retrieved his cup and ate a few biscuits himself.
“Is the food at the inn not to your liking Mr. Darcy?” she asked watching him eat. He looked embarrassed for a moment before she laughed and said, “Mrs. Hill’s biscuits are very good. Matthew would eat his weight if I allowed him but then Nanny Brice would fuss at me and not allow me to feed him at tea tomorrow.”
“Nannies can be tyrants,” he testified. “I remember Georgiana’s nanny swatting my posterior when she caught me sneaking Georgie biscuits after supper when she was a young girl.”
“I believe you said that your sister lives in town at present,” Elizabeth ventured to continue the subject.
He nodded, “At our home in Mayfair. She studies music with a master twice a week and the man would not consider an engagement in Derbyshire. It is a great inconvenience for my sister to remain in town this fall rather than retire to Pemberley.”
Laughing Elizabeth watched as Darcy suddenly realized he had wanted to impose his wishes upon the music master without regard for the man’s other students.
“Mr. Darcy, I believe your eyes have been opened by Mr. Bingley,” she said congenially.
He smiled and handed part of a biscuit to Matthew who shoved it into his mouth and chewed. The parlour door opened and in came Nanny Brice escorted by Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“Master Matthew! Enough biscuits!” the nanny cried pleasantly as she took the child from his mother. “Mrs. Hamilton, he will not eat his peas tonight for certain now.”
“I am sorry Nanny; we all had a marvellous tea and he was so well behaved.”
“Of course,” Nanny agreed. “Master Matthew is always well behaved – except when he is tired or his nap has been interrupted. The little boy struggled to get down once more.
“Alright Master Matthew, alright,” Nanny Brice conceded and set her charge on his feet once again.
Immediately, the little boy ran to Darcy’s feet and begged, “Up peas! Up peas!”
Darcy glanced at Elizabeth and Nanny Brice only a moment before picking Matthew up and placing him on his shoulder.
“You better follow me up the stairs with him sir,” Nanny suggested. “Otherwise he will never get down for his nap.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam chortled but kept his laughter under control to see his cousin at the beck and call of a child. He joined Elizabeth on the sofa where she was taking out some embroidery work.
“Is Mr. Darcy this congenial with all children?”
“I have not seen him with any child since Georgiana has grown. My brother has three daughters but we see them only at holidays when my mother spoils her granddaughters and the nannies despair of their behaviour as ladies later in life.”
The proper time for conclusion of a social call had long since passed but none of the attendants thought anything of it. Finally, Colonel Fitzwilliam mentioned that he and Darcy needed to meet with persons at the inn before supper. Bingley took that as the time to take his leave as well and the two ladies walked to the door and waited with the gentlemen as their horses were brought around. Bingley shook hands with the gentlemen, tipped his hat to Mrs. Hamilton and kissed Miss Bennet’s hand.
Colonel Fitzwilliam tipped his hat to both ladies and thanked them for a very nice tea. Mr. Darcy tipped his hat to Miss Bennet and took Mrs. Hamilton’s hand in his and then kissed it before asking permission to call again on the next day.
“I count on it Mr. Darcy,” she replied. “No one else is tall enough to lift Matthew up to the chandelier!”
Everyone, including Mr. Darcy, laughed before he mounted Zeus and rode toward Meryton with Colonel Fitzwilliam.
++**++
“Lizzy, come back to the parlour with me,” Jane said after the gentlemen rode away. Following her sister back into the house, Elizabeth smiled imagining what Jane had to share.
“Mr. Bingley has asked to court me, Lizzy.” Jane smiled and her whole being seemed to bounce with happiness. “He will speak to Mamma and he will write to Uncle Gardiner in London to declare his intentions.”
“Oh Jane, I am so happy for you!”
“And did Mr. Darcy declare his intentions, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth smiled. “I believe it is very hard for Mr. Darcy to put himself forward. So many women have pursued the man that he does not know what to think.”
“Well Lizzy, you must speak with him then!” Jane declared. “Would you be satisfied in ten years if he never declared himself? Matthew will be too large to ride on Mr. Darcy’s shoulder by then.”
++**++
Chapter 31.
Wickham Signs the Enlistment Papers
“Darcy,” Colonel Fitzwilliam called as they stopped their horses outside the blacksmith stables in Meryton. Distracted by Zeus and his randy behaviour, Darcy did not respond to Richard’s first call.
“Darcy!” Colonel Fitzwilliam called again and this time Darcy glanced toward his cousin who stood with the blacksmith and a pouch of letters.
“The commission is here! We can sign Lt. Wickham this very afternoon,” he called.
“Fine, let me settle Zeus and then we shall find Foster and Wickham and get the papers signed. Keep the rider to return to London tonight!”
“Does he truly wish for me to ride back into London tonight?” the rider asked Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“He will pay extra,” the officer replied. “We shall buy you supper and send you on your way.”
“Very well sir,” the rider replied though Richard imagined the man wondering what was so important that it had to be returned to General Smith-Hanes tonight at the cost of a week’s wages for a soldier in the rank and file.
Inside the stable, rather than risk Zeus biting one of the stable boys Darcy led his horse into the stall himself. He held the horse’s head as the blacksmith himself removed the saddle and gave th
e horse a quick rub down with a large towel.
“He’s got the scent of a mare in season somewhere sir,” the blacksmith told his customer. “He’ll bang on the stall all night long as like not.”
Darcy nodded. “I shall take him out of town tomorrow and calm him down.”
++**++
In the common room of the tavern, Darcy and Fitzwilliam quickly found Colonel Foster in company with Mr. Wickham. The two gentlemen were in uniform and had their coats to go out.
“Evening Colonel Foster!” called Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Wickham! What salon are you about to visit and turn heads?”
“Ha! Fitzwilliam, how are you this evening?” asked Foster.
“I am starved! We had little tea this afternoon and I look forward to supper tonight. Will you two join us?”
“I would gladly join you but I have matters at camp to attend to and Wickham has other plans for supper,” Foster replied.
Wickham smiled and said, “There is always time to drink a pint or two with the gentlemen.”
“I have received the commission papers for Lt. Wickham,” Fitzwilliam told the others. “I propose letting Wickham sign with Colonel Foster and Mr. Darcy as the official witnesses. Then I shall purchase pints for all the officers in the room.”
“Wickham! Are you finally sharing some of your good luck with your fellow soldiers?” Denny called. “You’re handed a captain’s bars and we get free beer!”
With some celebration, the officers of the ____ Militia witnessed the enlistment of now Captain George Wickham into the regulars. After pints all around twice, Wickham departed for supper while Darcy and Fitzwilliam remained for supper in the inn.
++**++
Chapter 32.
Wickham’s Last Victim
On Saturday morning, Darcy and Fitzwilliam descended the stairs at the White Pig Inn. There were few patrons still breaking their fast but there was no sign of Colonel Foster or Captain Wickham.
“How soon can you move Wickham to Greenwich?” Darcy asked as they sat down at the table.
“I shall forego shooting my share of the pheasant to escort Wickham to Greenwich this afternoon,” Fitzwilliam replied. He took a sip from his cup of coffee before continuing. “I must assign him to the appropriate company. Once there, my men can keep him under close guard and prepare him for the campaign next spring.”
“Are you thinking you will make a true soldier out of him?”
“I intend to try and do just that!” Fitzwilliam replied. “He is intelligent – why should I not use him to the King’s benefit next spring?”
Darcy frowned, “What if he survives and returns a hero?”
Just as the two gentlemen finished their meal, a young boy entered the inn looking for Colonel Foster.
“Whatever is the matter young man?” Darcy asked the boy.
“It was Miss Lincoln what sent me sir – ‘Find Colonel Foster!’ she tells me. ‘Find Colonel Foster and tell him to get to the house quick!’ So’s, I come to the inn but they said the colonel is at the camp. I don’t know where that is.”
Fitzwilliam turned to the innkeeper and inquired, “Do you have anyone who can go the camp and fetch Colonel Foster?”
Looking at the servants, the innkeeper motioned one of the young men forward. Fitzwilliam gave him a shilling and said, “Get to the camp and bring Colonel Foster back to Meryton. Tell him to come to the house where Mrs. Lincoln and her daughter reside.”
“Thank you, sir,” the man agreed and ran from the inn.
“Now, young man, let’s return to the house and wait for Colonel Foster,” Darcy told the boy. “Mrs. Lincoln can explain the problem to us.”
“That’s the problem General Fritz, Mrs. Lincoln is gone. She done run off with that Captain Wickham. They left for London last night in a rig from Mr. Black’s livery.”
++**++
Fitzwilliam hurried to the house with the boy while Darcy walked to the livery stable. Mr. Black was at the anvil, shaping shoes with his hammer when Darcy entered the livery stable.
“Good morning, Mr. Darcy!” Black called. “Do you need me to saddle your gelding this morning?”
“Thank you, no. But I need information on the carriage you rented last night to Mrs. Lincoln,” Darcy explained.
The blacksmith lifted his head and looked surprised. “Mrs. Lincoln has use of a phaeton and one of my best horses, Mr. Darcy.”
A carriage generally used for fast trips and often the cause of accidents, the phaeton was not a carriage Darcy cared for. He kept carts at Pemberley for his sister to drive when she wanted an outing.
“Did Mrs. Lincoln rent a phaeton?”
“That Lt. Wickham – says he is Captain Wickham now – came by just after dark and rented the phaeton in Mrs. Lincoln’s name. He paid me to send the phaeton with my best horse to her house at half past six. She needed it to attend supper with some of the gentry.”
“And are you not concerned that the horse and phaeton have not been returned?”
“Often times, they do not return the horse and buggy until the next day, sir.”
Offended that Mr. Black would allow his horses to remain in harness and hitched to a buggy overnight, Darcy schooled his features carefully before he told the blacksmith, “It appears that Mrs. Lincoln did not return home last evening.”
“Did not return?” asked Mr. Black. “Has the colonel begun to search for her? Where do they think she is?”
“Was anyone with Wickham when he rented the carriage?”
Black thought for a moment and then nodded. “Another officer was with him – that Lt. Denny.”
“Thank you for the information, Mr. Black.”
When the blacksmith nodded, Darcy asked, “Can you direct me to this house where Mrs. Lincoln resides?”
Finding the house without any trouble, Darcy knocked on the door and was granted entry by an older woman – the housekeeper most likely. The sounds of a woman crying from one of the upstairs rooms were muffled but constant.
“Miss Lincoln keeps to her room sir,” the woman explained. “The other gentleman is in the parlour waiting for you.”
“Waiting for me?”
The parlour door opened and Fitzwilliam stepped out into the small entry way, “Of course I am waiting for you cousin. In military strategy, a good general understands his allies as well as his enemies.” Darcy inclined his head once in acknowledgement of Fitzwilliam’s military experience.
“We know Wickham’s habits – he will take Mrs. Lincoln to London and leave her there. We must get Colonel Foster to question any of Wickham’s confederates and friends in camp. They may have knowledge of Wickham’s locations in London.”
“It will be Lt. Denny,” Darcy replied. “He came with Wickham to the blacksmith last night when he rented the carriage.”
They heard horses outside the house and turned toward the door which flew open as Colonel Foster strode into the house. He nodded to Darcy and Fitzwilliam before turning to the housekeeper. “Tell me all! Leave nothing out. What has happened here?”
She hesitated but Mr. Darcy spoke gently yet firmly, “Tell us all goodwife. What transpired here with Mrs. Lincoln, Miss Lincoln and Captain Wickham?”
“For several nights, Mrs. Lincoln let that handsome fellow – Wickham – come to call. She thought he was partial to her and he flattered her with pretty words and that smile he’s got. I remarked to Mrs. Lincoln how it was strange that he kept sending Miss Lincoln upstairs to change her gown and her hair – the maid had to dress Miss Lincoln in ten different gowns in one night. All the while, he was talking to Mrs. Lincoln while her daughter primped and changed.”
“Did Mrs. Lincoln say anything that might tell us where Wickham was taking her?”
“No sir,” the housekeeper told them. “She told her daughter that they was to go to the one of the big houses for supper with the gentry but she never came home.”
“When did Mrs. Lincoln discover that her daughter was missing?” asked Colonel Foster.
“Oh sir, it is Mrs. Lincoln is missing, not Miss Lincoln!” the woman insisted. “Miss Lincoln has been crying ever since she found her mother didn’t come home last night. She sits on her bed, holding her wedding gown and crying.”
“Mrs. Lincoln? Why would he run away with Mrs. Lincoln?” asked Foster.
“Did Mrs. Lincoln take a bag?” asked Fitzwilliam.
“No sir, she took nothing but her pelisse and bonnet.”
“Colonel Foster, I believe Mrs. Lincoln was abducted against her will,” Fitzwilliam said. “The housekeeper’s story makes that seem the most likely scenario. She would have taken a bag if she thought she was eloping.”
Foster spoke up, “I do not understand the man’s motives. Mrs. Lincoln can offer him nothing beyond warming his bed. She has no money – her settlement from her late husband is…”
The man staggered to a nearby chair and sat before explaining, “Wickham could get his hands on about two thousand if he married Mrs. Lincoln.”
“Colonel Foster?” Lt. Denny asked stepping into the house. “Sir, do you require the surgeon?”
“Denny!” Fitzwilliam said. “Wickham abducted Mrs. Lincoln and carried her away. Where would he have taken her?”
“Abducted Mrs. Lincoln?” Denny asked the shock obvious in his voice. “Why would he abduct Mrs. Lincoln?”
“Mr. Wickham takes pleasure in the ruin of ladies, Lt. Denny,” Darcy explained. “In our home county, there are at least two girls he ruined and left increasing.”
“If he is such as bad fellow, why have you two gentlemen been his friends? You purchased a commission for him!”
Foster looked up and asked, “Explain this, gentlemen! Are you his protectors? I shall call you out and run you through as soon as I have done with him if you plan to shield him!”
“I hate George Wickham,” Darcy stated simply. “He has hurt me and mine for years. My cousin and I obtained him this promotion to put him under my cousin’s command where he will face the French next spring.”
Follies and Nonsense Page 27
