“Darcy!” Bingley exclaimed when he was shown into the drawing room. “I cannot say how pleased I was to have been invited out on the town with you and your cousin. The tales of your exploits are legend in the hells, Colonel, and your brother’s are worse. As you instructed Darcy, I brought my trunk, prepared to stay for some days.”
“Do not encourage him, Bingley,” Darcy warned. “We are to show him a good time before he returns to battle, but the last thing we need is to have him competing with his brother’s infamy.”
“The only thing preventing me from making Ashley appear as fast as a country miss not yet out of the school room, is the fact that most of my larks are enjoyed on the continent,” Fitzwilliam laughed, shaking Bingley’s hand. Ferguson appeared to announce dinner, and the men followed him to the small dining room the Darcys used when they were alone or only entertaining a few guests.
“So how long is this bout of debauchery to last?” Bingley asked easily as the men enjoyed the cook’s excellent fare.
“Until my cousin bores of it,” Darcy grinned. “He always claims to be so much worse than Ashley, but the truth of the matter is, Richard cannot abide such dissipation for long without productive employment to balance it. He is too used to real work on the front. Ashley, however, can carry on for months without ever having a single sensible or practical thought enter his mind. I give him a week, but our limit is three weeks, when I travel to Ramsgate to visit my sister.”
“Have you noticed anything about Georgie’s letters?” asked Fitzwilliam. “She seems oddly distant of late.”
“I have, but her companion says that it is not uncommon for girls her age to feel a sudden necessity to display exaggerated maturity, and that often displays itself as a disinclination to communicate with one’s parents, or in Georgie’s case, guardians.”
“That is certainly the truth,” Bingley said, applying himself to his roast beef. “When Caroline was Miss Darcy’s age, she went an entirequarter treating our father as if he were the stupidest person in the world, and even refusing to speak to him. He was just entering his illness, and when I visited from school, I gave her a piece of my mind like you cannot imagine. Then I wrote to Louisa, and invited her and Hurst to come to Scarborough and stay with father and Caroline to ensure her compliance.”
“That does not sound very much like you, if you do not mind my saying so, Bingley,” Fitzwilliam said pointedly. Bingley was notorious for his lack of control over his sister.
“The key to Caroline is choosing one’s battles,” Bingley said amiably. “One cannot fight over everything or one would be an angry person all the time. When I truly put my foot down, my sister knows it is pointless to attempt to change my mind. But enough of Caroline. I meant to ask you, Darcy. I am leasing an estate, like we talked about, and I took that fellow you recommended, Mr Lambert, with me to look it over, and he said it is sound. How long will you be in Ramsgate? Might I convince you to come for a month or two this summer, to teach me some of what I must know? I leave in a week, myself. Miss Darcy is welcome to accompany you.”
“Congratulations, Bingley!” said Darcy enthusiastically. “I am glad you sought out Lambert’s assistance. Of course I will come. I am only meant to visit Georgie for a week; she means to stay where she is for two more months. Where is the place?”
“It is an estate called The Gables, and it is near a small village called Highbury, in Surrey,” answered Bingley. “It currently earns close to four thousand a year, and the manor is in good repair. The tenant houses and farms need some work, and that is why I took it. I have no objections to paying to fix another person’s problems, if it assists me in learning what I must know. It will be good for me to learn to solve these issues. The owner fears the steward is crooked since the place ought to earn closer to five or six thousand. However, she is an old woman and would rather not deal with the matter herself. I have been given the authority to investigate and replace him if necessary.”
“In that case, yes, I agree I ought to join you,” agreed Darcy. “Iassure you Bingley, I shall teach you the methods of determining whether a servant is cheating you and will advise you upon the best course of action if it turns out to be true.”
After they dinedthey enjoyed a few glasses of brandy in Darcy’s study, they made for Sedgewick’s in Darcy’s carriage with a pair of armed grooms riding on the back. London could be a dangerous place at night, particularly if one was visiting the hells.
Sedgewick’s was what was known as a golden hell. Patronised by the wealthiest of London, and only by subscription, the gambling den was luxurious and decadent. It had been opened in the very early eighteenth century by the second and third sons of a man from Cornwall who owned mines. The man gave all three of his sons five thousand pounds, and bade them go out and seek their fortunes, warning them that the family estate and mines would be run dry and bankrupt before they could provide for the eldest. The eldest, who had the greatest sense of family loyalty and responsibility, used his funds to buy more mines, hoping to use the funds from them to shore up the family and poor labourers dependent on the local industry. Sadly, the endeavour was an utter failure, just as his father warned him that it would be.
The other two sons went into business together, and opened a gambling den in the city. It began as a copper hell, mostly for working men and the lower middle class. Boxing matches and cockfights were favoured, as well as card games. Over the decades, they suffered two fires, though the properties were insured far beyond their value. Many years ago, the Sedgewick in charge purchased half a city block of buildings in a fashionable part of St James, demolished them, and had an enormous new establishment built. The gaming house now owned its own bank, and was lauded as the most lavish golden hell in London for the last sixty years. Patronage was limited to subscription, and only offered to the nobility and to wealthy gentlemen of great worth and connection.
Darcy rarely attended, but when he and Bingley did, they kept to the low stakes tables or the billiard rooms. The boxing matches and cockfights were long gone, though Darcy was certain his cousin would drag him out in search of them long before the week was out. Darcy knew Fitzwilliam would outstrip Bingley in consumption of spirits and all other methods of debauchery in no time at all. Darcy and Fitzwilliam were both in possession of the ability to drink astonishing quantities of spirits without getting unbecomingly foxed. Other men had limits, whereas Darcy, Richard, and Richard’s brother Ashley, could drink for days, and though theywouldbe mildly drunk, they never lost their faculties. It also took them all an incredible amount of brandy to reach such a state of mild inebriation, and so Darcy and Fitzwilliam rarely considered the effort worthwhile, though Ashley never seemed to tire of it. It was said amongst their family that their maternal grandfather, and his father before him, had been such drunkards that their progeny were nearly immune to drink.
A year after Colonel Richard Fitwilliam left to fight on the continent, he returned on leave with skills at the card table that were entirely unmatched. He had been training in intelligence, and therefore saw and understood every blink, twitch, side eye, or hesitation displayed by the other players. As a result, he won so often that though many thought he was poor, he had a five-figure sum in the bank which would start him with a handsome nest egg when he retired from military service. The majordomo of the club and even its owner watched all of Richard’s plays as closely as was possible, and they swore no cheating was involved, nor did they believe the man had the demeanour of one who had the skill of counting cards. Only the very brave, or the very drunk and stupid, sat down to play cards with Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.
Darcy and his guests were welcomed by the club manager with all of the pleasure one might expect for the appearance of one such as Fitzwilliam, who would create excitement and the impulse to spend among the other guests. For a while, the men parted – Darcy and Bingley to the low stakes tables, and Richard to the high stakes games. Darcy shook his head and hoped that Richard did not cause too muchof a stir, as he sometimes did when putting his hand to the cards. He did not approve of such high stakes wagers, thinking it entirely irresponsible, but Fitzwilliam explained from whence his ability came, and since he rarely lost, and he never tricked anyone into thinking that he was unskilled or an easy target, Darcy said nothing about it.
His uncle had the ability to provide for Fitzwilliam even more handsomely than the generous situations Darcy’s father had set by for his subsequent sons who had never appeared, but Lord Matlock chose, as so many other men like him did, to provide his second son nothing more than an education, a commission, and a small allowance during his father’s lifetime. His brother might give him a pension when he inherits, but he was under no obligation to do so. At least Richard was given a gentlemen’s education and had learned about estate matters with his brother. Some second sons were given hardly any such consideration, but at least Lord Matlock saw the wisdom that if a spare was required, one ought to give him the education to manage the task before him in case he inherited. There was also the fact that Fitzwilliam might marry a lady with an estate, or an heiress to one.
Considering how little his cousin had otherwise been provided for, Darcy could hardly blame him for acquiring funds however he could, as long as it was not criminal behaviour. There was always an idiot who insisted, no matter how he was persuaded to rethink his wager, on losing everything at least once per month at Sedgewick’s. If the men must waste their resources, at least they could be won by a man who would treat them responsibly rather than one who would only wager and lose them again the following week.
Darcy and Bingley played at the tables for two hours, Bingley up perhaps twenty pounds, Darcy only up perhaps ten, for he truly did not care if he won money, so he never suggested large wagers. They excused themselves from the tables, and made their way to the billiards room, drinking and laughing with the others of their set. Darcy made an effort to be pleasant, since there were no women about, and as long as no one approached him to ask him for loans or to enter their business ventures. The men played billiards for perhapsanother two hours, Darcy consuming an enormous quantity of spirits, which put the other gentlemen, who typically viewed him as staid and boring, in a more than usually friendly mood with him. So many men held grudges against him because he refused their requests for investments, and their daughters or sisters werenot good enoughfor him. Darcy had never said they were not, but he had been the master of his own estate for years, and society had expected him to settle down long ago.
They later made their way to the high stakes tables, where, as usual, there was a large crowd around the table where Richard and one other player remained, the other players having left the game without their dignities, but at least with most of their fortunes intact. One of the owners of the club, Lewis Sedgewick, stood near Richard, watching the play carefully. Near the dealer stood the majordomo, doing the same.
Darcy and Bingley took seats at a small table nearby, ordering drinks and some food from the servants. It was nearly three in the morning when they sat, and they watched Richard and the other man, Viscount Lymington, the heir of the Earldom of Rutledge, as the stakes grew higher and higher. Richardwasat the high stakes table, but one of the things that worked in his favour was that he hardly ever madeincrediblyhigh wagers, so when he lost, he of course lost a great sum, but noteverything. This maddened his competitors, who lost mediocre sums to him over and over, until it began to add up to life changing amounts of money.
Viscount Lymington had reached that point. Over the course of more than six hours, Lymington had lost over twelve thousand pounds. Finally, at the end of the night, when the sun was rising outside, the Viscount demanded that Fitzwilliam play one more hand for incredibly high stakes to allow Lymington to win the sum back. Fitzwilliam declined, saying that Lymington had played for over six hours, and if he were going to win, he would have done so by now. Lymington threw down the deed to his estate, recently deeded to him by his father, in the hopes of teaching him something and making the young man more responsible. The name of the estate was calledGreen Hollow Hall near Birmingham, and it earned more than six thousand a year.
The hall immediately erupted into shouts and objections, some, the Viscount’s friends, others, the friends of his father. Even Darcy and Bingley protested the irresponsible action on the part of the young nobleman. At Sedgewick’s it was customary for the majordomo, the dealer, and the owner to discourage a player from ruining himself. Yes, life altering sums were won and lost in a single hand every single night, but none could claim that they lost everything they owned without being strongly discouraged from doing so by the owners of the club themselves. The Sedgewicks did not want a poor reputation amongst a resentful population of noblemen, they instead, had a reputation for entertaining the elite of London with the highest integrity.
Fitzwilliam agreed with them all. “I do not want your estate, Lymington, though you deserve to lose it, considering this display of stupidity. Your entire estate is not worth losing to save twelve thousand.”
“I do not give a damn, I never wanted the bloody estate!” Lymington exclaimed. “My father gave it to me earlier this year in an effort to remove me from town, but I have nowishto live like him, cooped up in the country, trapped by the rain, entertaining the local spinsters and the vicar. I do not need the damned place; it is a millstone about my neck. In the absence of a younger brother, I inherited a comfortable fortune and a small townhouse from my mother’s brother. I can live the life I enjoy without difficulty here in town. The only purpose that deed serves is to return to me the funds I lost tonight, and if I lose the deed as well, then at least my father will learn to leave me the hell alone.”
When Fitzwilliam continued to demur, Lymington stood and threw his glove on the table. “By God, Fitzwilliam, I demand that you concede, or I shall call you out onto the field!” Again, the hall was thrown into disorder.
Fitzwilliam only raised a brow and said, “Why would you do that? You must know that the only thing that I am better at than cardswhen not on a battlefield is besting men at swords and shooting. Are youtryingto get yourself killed?”
