“Fitzwilliam,” Wickham stated with a forced geniality. “How the devil are you?”
He placed his hat on the desk, Darcy noticed that it was made from finest beaver pelt and looked relatively new, he wondered how much this fashion would eventually cost his own purse, given as it was that he was currently subsidising Wickham’s lifestyle to an alarming degree.
“As well as can be expected,” he stated solemnly. He had no desire to reveal anything of his heart to George Wickham.
“Death of a father is a terrible thing,” he said shaking his head. “Why it has been but three years since my own passed on. It has been hard for my mother, of course. One suspected that Peter would have inherited the position of Steward, but I can see that it was not meant to be.”
Everything Wickham said was pointed. Every remark made designed to inflict hurt. He did nothing without fully thinking it through.
“Peter was offered the chance to train to be a steward, George,” Darcy corrected. “But he declined it as he felt much more comfortable in the stables, you understand that. Have you been to see your mother recently?”
“She has been ill with a fever these last few weeks and I have stayed in town in order to prevent the spread of it.”
“Mrs Wickham was in perfectly good health last Thursday week when I visited her.”
George visibly wavered. He was all for the appearance of outward respectability but did not like being questioned or contradicted in his assurances.
“Aye, I admit I have been away longer than anticipated. It is not as easy to travel back to Derbyshire when one has to travel by post, I would not expect you to understand as you always have the luxury of the coach.”
“Actually, I have been travelling back and forth on horseback. I find it takes less time and costs a lot less money than the coach. Besides which, my sister Georgiana is currently visiting Ramsgate with her companion, and I thought it better for her to have exclusive use of it for the season.”
“Why, yes,” Wickham agreed. “What a splendid idea. The seaside will do her a great deal of good after the last few months of sadness. Losing a parent when one is so young will obviously have an impact.”
“Well, quite,” Darcy snapped.
Both men knew why Wickham was here, it was not to make pleasant small talk or exchange niceties. He was here to receive what was coming to him under the wishes of Mr Darcy’s will. There had already been an exchange of correspondence between Wickham and the Darcy attorneys in Lambton and Darcy had already granted his former friend a sum of three thousand pounds instead of the living at Kympton, in addition to the thousand pounds that he had already been granted as Mr Darcy’s godson. Taking the envelope from Darcy, which he promptly placed in his inside coat pocket, Wickham offering his hand and Darcy reluctantly shook it. He sincerely hoped that this would be the last he would see of George Wickham.
Eleanor had howled, long low moans of grief at the death of her firstborn son. Peter and David had been told the news up at the main house and travelled back to the cottage as soon as they could, Bridget lived in Lambton and Darcy had sent a man there to fetch her before he had left for the cottage. The Wickhams were like a second family to him and he shared in their grief, holding Bridget in his arms like a sister as she wept.
“What about Lydia, Fitzwilliam,” Eleanor asked. “What will happen to Lydia?”
Darcy had not thought about his wife’s sister, but it stood to reason that he would send the coach to Newcastle for her.
“She will come and stay at Pemberley with us and I will send her to you once she has settled.”
“You know that she is with child, Fitzwilliam?”
If Darcy visibly blanched then he did well to hide it, he had not been aware that Lydia was pregnant, and he wasn’t too enthusiastic about a child of George Wickham’s being raised at Pemberley.
“I did not know, but this is remarkably good news on this sad day, Eleanor.”
“Aye, but I cannot bring myself to be happy about it today.”
Darcy left the family to their grief, promising to make all the suitable arrangements for the service, and to ensure that Lydia would be safely at Pemberley within the next week. Mounting his horse, he rode back to the house the long way around, it was dusk, and he had been at the cottage for longer than he had intended.
Lydia Wickham arrived ten days later with three trunks and a list of creditors. She was large with child and her usual frivolous and self-centred self. Dressed in a black velvet gown and with her hair curled high upon her head, she had the appearance and demeanour of a very demanding duchess and summoned her sister as if calling for a maid. Darcy did not understand how Elizabeth could stand deferring to her sister in such a way, and he had Lydia and her various possessions placed in one of the less impressive bedrooms in an act of rebellion against her. She had ordered three mourning dresses and charged them to the Darcy account, as well as several bonnets and hats. Darcy trusted that her stay would be short, hopeful that the Bingleys would be willing to receive her at Dunmarleigh for the duration of her confinement.
The funeral passed with little drama, even from Lydia whose emotions were muted on the unseasonably overcast day. Darcy himself felt hollow as the empty symbolic walnut coffin was lowered into the Wickham plot at the church in Lambton, and he held onto his wife’s hand as if trying to make sense of it all. It was Elizabeth who encouraged her husband to grieve for George Wickham in the days that followed, to remember the past with as much pleasure as he could.
Despite the incident at Ramsgate and his dastardly elopement with her own sister, Elizabeth was fully aware that Wickham had been a charming and affable man, and after conversing with Darcy about his childhood and his life before her, she knew that some of his positive qualities were as a direct result of knowing him. It was because of having to pay off his friend’s debts at the tailors and hatters in fashionable parts town that Darcy had begun to invest in himself; paying for newly tailored suits more befitting his status, buying himself beaver pelt top hats and spending time at the theatre and recitals.
It was because of Wickham that Darcy had a sense of adventure – usually young men would travel to the continent after finishing their studies, but due to Napoleon’s dominance of Europe, the two men had travelled to the Far East with a friend from Norfolk, returning to Pemberley with tales of their exploits and the sights they had seen, and artefacts from the holy lands that were on display around the house, as well as lengths of exotic silks and satins. It was talking about these escapades and remembering the aspects of his youth that Wickham had positively enhanced, which forced Darcy to remember George with fondness. It was only then that he truly mourned the loss of a brother and friend.
FIVE QUESTION FIRING:
BENN WILLIAMS – OOH, MR DARCY!
Production has nearly finished on Matthew Wickham’s new production of Pride and Prejudice, currently being filmed on location at Pemberley, the historic home of the Darcy family. Benn Williams, currently donning breeches again in the role made famous by Colin Firth faces the Five-Question Firing this week. How does the role of Darcy differ from Henry Jones? Well I haven’t had to do as much training, although there were a few touch and go moments with the tightness of the pants and I did end up half naked in a lake. Has it been interesting filming the scenes at Mr Darcy’s famous house itself? It’s such a wonderful location, you can see why Elizabeth Bennet was so enamoured by it. It was also great to be back up North too. Everyone knows that you love cake. Tell me, which is your favourite? That’s the most interesting question… I used to be all for red velvet, but I have a new-found penchant for macarons. Has Lady Imogen popped by to show you around her family home? I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Lady Imogen yet, but I hear that she is a lot of fun. Speaking of fun, you’re currently footloose and fancy-free… any romance on the horizon? Not at the minute, but my daughter keeps saying she will put me on Tinder! I don’t even know how it works! There you have it ladies, SWIPE RIGHT!
Eighteen
Lizzy sat in the chair feeling every one of her thirty-seven years as she was primped and preened and prodded by the make-up artists of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ next to the gaggle of twenty-something actresses who were playing the Bennet sisters. She felt out of place, being the only ‘supporting artist’ to be in the same area as the actual stars of the film, and even though she knew it had been arranged to make her feel a bit special and important, it just made her feel awkward. Her mad curls had already been tamed and pinned up into an authentically intricate Regency ‘do’ and then been wrapped in a hairnet and pinned again to stop any movement whilst she was taken to costume.
“You know the design for this dress was based on one that Elizabeth Darcy wore, Lady Darcy,” said an overeager wardrobe assistant called Ruth, who had fantastic eyebrows and wore glittery, purple Converse.
“It’s beautiful,” she smoothed down the royal blue silk, noticing how the sleeves and hem were trimmed in a gold brocade that twinkled under the dressing room lights. “You can call me Lizzy, y’know. You have just hoisted my boobs into stays, so I think we can be on first name terms.”
Ruth blushed as she continued to lace her into the gown, “she wore it – Elizabeth Darcy, I mean – she wore it for her first Lady Anne Ball… The dress – I mean, not this dress, this is one we’ve had made - I mean that…Oh,” she fumbled over a lacing and caught her finger.
“Ruth,” she said. “There’s no need to be nervous.”
“I’ve never… I mean,” Ruth fumbled over her words. “I’ve never met an actual Lady before. Like, you’re the real deal, and this…this is Pemberley!”
“It is! Big Pride and Prejudice fan, are you?”
“I really am! Well, a big Colin Firth fan anyway…”
“Me too, you should have seen what I was like when they filmed here.”
Ruth stopped lacing suddenly, “you mean you were here when Colin Firth dived in the lake?”
“I mean it was the pond and not the lake, but yeah, I totally did. I was still at school,” she confided, “convinced my grandad to ask the director to let me meet some of the cast, but when I actually did, I just blushed and couldn’t say a word to either of them!”
“That sounds exactly like something I would do. Is Colin Firth as handsome in real life?”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
Ruth nodded furtively.
“He was even handsomer…and his shirt wasn’t the only thing that was see-through!”
Ruth did a massive snort, and then flushed, but Lizzy could see her visibly relax, before strutting off in the direction of the herd of shimmering starlets whose laughter filled the room.
Lizzy walked across the courtyard, the dress crinkling and the underlying petticoats noisily rubbing against her legs, eager to see the preparations taking place inside. The finale of the Ball ended with a long sweeping shot throughout the rooms where the action took place and Matthew was currently walking through the action with the Steadicam operator as they planned the complicated series of shots and sequences that were all detailed minutely.
For all his many faults, Matthew really was a tremendously good at what he did, totally passionate about any project that he embarked upon and she was glad that he was here, filming the story of Elizabeth and Darcy in the house they had lived in. She stood at the edge of the action; self-consciously looking around the room that she had known all her life, now transformed into the majestic ballroom of Netherfield Hall.
“Lizard! You look amazing!”
Matthew strode over to her with a notebook in his hand and smile on his face.
“Hey, you,” she fended off the air kiss, so he didn’t disturb her make-up. “You’re looking very responsible tonight – how was Shepperton?”
“Hard work,” he groaned. “Only two more weeks to go. I can tell I’m getting older, I’m absolutely jiggered.”
She could tell he was tired now as the Derbyshire in him came flooding out through exhaustion. It always did.
“When are you going back to LA?
“I don’t know if I am,” he sighed. “Need to wait to see how much of my money the lawyers are going to take.”
“Are you okay?” She slurped on her cup of tea through a straw carefully, trying not to smudge her perfectly applied regency lip colour.
“I am,” he said with a considered smile. “It was always going to happen eventually.”
“It’s still a big deal,” she took his hand. “If you need me, you know where I am.”
“I appreciate it,” he genuinely did.
“How are things with your little twinkie?”
“Brilliant,” he grinned. “But she isn’t a twinkie, she’s amazing.”
Lizzy noticed how his attention was drawn to where Tamsin stood laughing at the craft table, and she saw the look on his face, recognised it from all the times she had seen him glancing at her out of the corner of her eye.
“I really like seeing you happy, Matthew”
She loved how he had started smiling with his whole face again.
“It’s a nice feeling. I like seeing it on myself.”
Matthew watched Tamsin from across the room, she was dancing with Sam Gallagher, who was playing Captain Denny, and he felt a small pang of jealousy as she laughed and teased the young actor, pressing herself against his redcoat uniform and taking a whole host of selfies that would inevitably appear on her Instagram at some point that evening.
He had never expected to fall for the quirky, determined Tamsin, who had a funny smile and an odd accent. She was from a small village outside Huddersfield and he found that, even though the initial attraction had been physical, he loved the way that she took the time to understand him, how she genuinely cared about him, and he found that over the last few months she had become the first person he wanted to speak to in the morning and the last person he wanted to speak to at night. Looking at her now, all strapped into stays and petticoats, he couldn’t wait until they had finished for the day so that he could pull her out of it and feel the warmth of her skin under his own.
Taking a seat in a quiet corner of the hall, Lizzy pulled out a random book that she had picked up at the airport on the way back from France and hadn’t got around to starting. It wasn’t holding her interest and she blamed the awkward week in France with Carol and Hugh for being distracted and choosing something with a pretty cover and little substance. They had barely walked through the door of the villa when Carol announced rather bluntly that they were separating, with Hugh nodding quietly and confirming that it was true. The week had passed with strained conversations and awkward outings as they performed a well-rehearsed charade in public. They had told her that the split was amicable, but now when she picked up the floppy paperback with the pink cover, all she could see were her father’s sad brown eyes as he looked at her over breakfast on the terrace.
Benn hadn’t expected to see Lizzy at the shoot, didn’t understand why when he walked on set, she was sitting there reading a book and dressed in full regency regalia. The blue gown brought out the colour of her eyes, sending them spiralling from a dark grey to seemingly being infused with stardust; he couldn’t help but notice how the corsetry had pushed up her bosom, even though he would never admit to it. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, wondering what she was thinking, wondering if she had thought about him.
Lizzy tried not to notice him as he walked on set; although she was fairly sure that her heart did a little flip. He was already fully costumed in one of the early, stiff Darcy outfits, his curls tousled to perfection and his cravat devilishly high. Casually she looked up at him and caught him looking at her, he blinked slowly and then looked away, turning his attention to the woman with bright red hair who was standing next to him, laughing at something she had said. Lizzy felt a prickle of anxiety sweep down her body, manifesting itself on her arm in goosebumps. It had been over a month now since she had seen him last, since that awful night on the roof when she had shouted at
him. When she thought back to it now, she was mortified, and it was this embarrassment that had stopped her from sending him a message, or even a vaguely humorous meme, over the last few weeks.
Mr Darcy was laughing with Elizabeth, they had built a great working relationship over the last few months, and she made him laugh with the random snapchats she sent him, and the sense of humour that they shared over stupid things that happened on set. She even once provided him with a live commentary via text of one of his old films – a teen comedy from the nineties that he did straight out of drama school - where he played the best friend to the leading lady. Jenny’s over attentiveness would have been annoying if it hadn’t filled a terrible void of loneliness and made him laugh rather than think about drinking.
“I told him that I had a poster of him on the back of my door all the way through high school and he didn’t believe me,” Jenny laughed, as she spoke to her on-screen mother.
Benn was sipping on a Coke, blushing under his layers of make-up. “She’s joking, obviously,”
“No,” Jenny protested. “I actually think you were responsible for my sexual awakening, even if you are old enough to be my dad!”
He started to fight his corner but found himself interrupted by his former Henry Jones love interest, Mariella Jones.
“Only just old enough!” Mariella exclaimed in a soft voice, tinged with her native Edinburgh accent, very different to the shrill histrionics of Mrs Bennet.
“Listen, all I’m saying is the pair of you were both getting it on in Praise to the Skies when I was in high school.”
Jenny Graves’ real voice had a gnarly Mancunian twang, Benn thought it was very reminiscent of Liam Gallagher. It always impressed him how effortlessly she switched from RP to Salfordeese between takes.
“Like that is it?” Benn grabbed her round the waist and picked her up, “you are being very, very impertinent, Miss Bennet.”
Becoming Lady Darcy Page 28
