He would never forget the feeling of trepidation he had felt when he arrived at his house on Bay Street in Ramsgate. There had been no footman on duty at the front door. The door had been unlocked and on entry he saw Mrs. Younge gleefully watching something through the drawing room door which was slightly cracked open.
His foot had caused a floorboard to creak and the companion had whirled around. She had turned white on seeing him and promptly fainted. The feeling of unease turned to one of grave concern.
Darcy had flung the door open causing it to crash against the wall startling his sister and the man sitting far too close to her while he had been kissing her hand. On seeing him, Giana had jumped up pulling her hand away guiltily. The man had turned and looked at him with fear. It was none other than the libertine George Wickham.
Wickham had been about to speak when Darcy had crashed his fist into the profligate wastrel’s face. The blow had sent Wickham crashing to the floor blood running freely from his obviously broken nose.
By now Giana had been sobbing, tears flowing freely. Wickham had used his handkerchief to wipe away some of the blood asking Darcy why he would hit his sister’s fiancé in that manner.
When he was informed her dowry of thirty thousand pounds would be forfeit as permission had not been obtained from both guardians, Wickham had made derogatory comments about his supposed fiancée, which had earned him another blow from Darcy.
Thompson, one of the footmen who had accompanied the master to Ramsgate took the whimpering man by his collar and dragged him towards the door. Darcy had stopped his man in the entrance hall and warned both Wickham and Mrs. Younge—who had been given ten minutes to vacate his house—that Colonel Fitzwilliam would be sent to deal with the former, and he would have the latter arrested for fraud if either should breathe word to anyone about what had occurred.
Wickham was more afraid of Richard Fitzwilliam than any other man so he had agreed and run like a thief in the night. Mrs. Younge had slunk away as well.
Giana had shared that her plan was to elope with George Wickham three days hence. Realising she had been duped and how wrong her desire to elope was, as well as to allow him to court her without William and Richard’s permission, she lost the confidence she had before Ramsgate and regressed much in her ability to face others.
On their return to London, Darcy had been thankful his aunt and uncle had not left Town yet. He had shared all with them and Richard, who took a few days’ emergency leave. Richard had wanted to seek Wickham out and make himdisappear, however, his father, Lord Reginald Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Matlock, his brother, Andrew, Viscount Hilldale, and Darcy had all restrained him.
Unlike when he had looked for and employed the previous companion on his own, Aunt Elaine had assisted in finding Giana a new, and well vetted, companion. Mrs. Annesley, the new companion, was in her forties and was a kindly, sympathetic woman who was slowly breaking down pieces of the walls of protection Giana had erected around herself after Ramsgate.
His sister and her companion were now resident at Matlock House under the care of his aunt and uncle.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
When Bingley told him of the assembly, he at first demurred. Miss Bingley then made it known she intended to remain at the estate as well, which prompted Darcy to choose to attend.
Darcy had only arrived a day prior so he had not been present when all of the men in the neighbourhood came to meet with Bingley. Thankfully, there were some matters of business which had not allowed him to travel with the Bingleys and Hursts on Monday past. Had he not a legitimate reason, as much as he abhorred any kind of deceit, he would have invented one so as not to have to travel in the same coach as Miss Bingley.
His mask slipped into place at the end of the current set as he watched a portly man, with a ruddy complexion and balding on the top of his head approach Bingley. Fitzwilliam Darcy was decidedly uncomfortable in company where he was not familiar with those present.
“Mr. Bingley, you are very welcome,” Sir William Lucas, who was the perpetual master of ceremonies at public events he attended in Meryton, said jovially as he offered a deep bow. “It is capital that you are here.” He noticed Darcy as the one member of the party who he had not met yet. “Would you introduce me to your friend, please?”
Darcy was about to object he was higher than this local man until he heard Bingley respond. “Sir William, it is my pleasure to present Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire to you. Darcy, Sir William Lucas of Lucas Lodge.”
Darcy returned the titled man’s bow. He correctly assumed he was a knight. ‘Even though I have noble relatives, I am only a gentleman farmer, so it was correct for him to request the introduction,’ Darcy told himself silently as he bowed.
“My Family,” Sir William inclined his head towards two ladies and two men around Darcy’s and Bingley’s ages, as well as a young lady. “Lady Lucas, Franklin, John, Charlotte and Maria…” Sir William introduced the members of the Netherfield Park party to his family.
“Miss Lucas, may I ask you to stand up with me for the next set,” Bingley requested. He was about to say more when his mouth flapped open like a beached carp.
Darcy saw the direction of his friend’s eyes. There stood an admittedly very pretty lady. She was just like Bingley preferred, tall, blond, blue eyed, and willowy. ‘His next angel, I am sure,’ Darcy thought to himself.
Sir William did not miss the man’s look either. “Allow me to present Mrs. Bennet and some of her daughters. “Mr. Bingley, Mr. Hurst, Mrs. Hurst, Mr. Darcy, and Miss Bingley, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Mrs. Frances Bennet, the Mistress of Longbourn, her eldest daughter, Miss Jane Bennet and her third daughter, Miss Mary Bennet. Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Mary, those I named are the residents of Netherfield Park.” Sir William turned to Mrs. Bennet. “Where are Eliza, Kitty, and Lydia?”
“Lizzy was collected by Julian Goulding for the next set already. My darling Lydia and her sister are acquiring some refreshments,” Fanny Bennet averred. “Lydia,” she called far too loudly to be polite.
Before the girl arrived, with another following her, the Hursts and Miss Bingley took themselves in the direction of the refreshments. Miss Bingley had her nose high in the air as she walked as if there were bad smells all around her.
“Miss Bennet, do you have the set after this next one open? If so I would like to reserve it,” Bingley asked hopefully. She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen and hoped beyond hope all her dances were not already taken.
“I do Mr. Bingley. Thank you Sir; it is yours,” Jane Bennet accepted.
Mrs. Bennet who could never allow a single man to pass without her trying to match him with one of her daughters, was aware the handsome man from Derbyshire, dressed in very fine clothing, had asked no one to dance so far.
In her mind a single man of fortune was in want of a wife, and she had five daughters to dispose of to—hopefully—wealthy men. “Here is my most lively daughter. Do you dance Mr. Darcy because I am sure my Lydia would…”
“Not if I can help it,” Darcy bit out as he turned on his heel, and without another word skulked off towards Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley where he proceeded to ask a set of each.
