“Both of you, out of the coach and back into the house.” Bingley saw both his wife and youngest child were about to protest. “One more word, and I will double the punishment from one to two years!”
Mavis and Caroline Bingley closed their mouths and meekly slunk back into the house.
The courier and his horse were still resting at the carriage works. Bingley would write a reply to Louisa’s missive once he returned. He had much to tell and owed her a huge debt of gratitude for helping him stop their family from being ruined.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The Wednesday after the funeral, the sixteenth day of November, a rented carriage approached Pemberley. In it was one George Wickham who travelled from Cambridge where hewas completing his final year before, hopefully, graduating. He had not troubled himself to arrive at Pemberley soon after his former godfather’s death.
After the way Mr Darcy had treated him, Wickham did not believe he owed it to the man to be present for his funeral. Also, other than while he was at Pemberley, he would not wear a black armband.
Regardless of the old man’s threats, Wickham was sure he had been remembered in the will. He had accepted that he would not be bequeathed one of the satellite estates, but he was certain a few thousand pounds would come his way. In addition, Wickham believed he would be recommended to one of the livings in Pemberley’s gifts.
He had no interest in the church, but he knew he could parlay that into more ready funds to go with what he had been left.
It was lucky the gates were open to all the callers who would be coming to condole with the prig. How it irked Wickham that now, just because of an accident of birth, damned William Darcy was one of the wealthiest non-royals in the realm.
During the final mile or so, Wickham practised a face which would reflect the sadness which would be expected by those he would see in the house. As they approached the manor house, he placed the armband. Now, he looked the part.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Mr Douglas, Pemberley’s butler, knocked on the drawing room door and entered. “Mr Darcy, George Wickham is here tocondolewith the family,” he said stoically, even if he hademphasised the one word. It was no secret that Wickham had no friends among the staff, servants, or tenants at Pemberley.
Darcy was about to tell Douglas to send the parasite away when Richard spoke first.
“William, see him in the study, but leave the door open. As soon as he begins to speak, we will come in and stand behind him. If he tries to make demands of you, I will know how to act,” Fitzwilliam suggested.
Douglas was told to wait five minutes before showing Wickham into the study.
On entering the master’s study and only seeing William Darcy behind the desk, and no one else in the room, Wickham’s confidence that he would be able to manipulate the grieving prig went up considerably. “I am sorry I did not have the funds to rent a carriage before now so I missed the funeral,” he stated with a put-on sorrow.
“You mean you could not take the post?” Darcy enquired. Seeing the three Fitzwilliam men and Hurst enter and silently stand behind the libertine almost made him smile, but he schooled his features.
“Thanks to the rules my godfather imposed…” Wickham started to respond, then he saw Darcy raise his hand.
“We both know my late father ceased being your godfather about a year or so ago. Why are you here, Wickham? You would not make the journey unless you felt there was some profit in it for you,” Darcy insisted.
Wickham was not pleased. He had expected a grieving Darcy to be pliant and easily manipulated. The man before him was anything but. He decided he would have to be direct anddemand his due. “Give me what I was left in the will, and I am willing to resign all claims to one of the livings for a pecuniary advantage, as I will never take orders. I will then be on my way.”
Darcy gave a bark of humourless laughter.
If that were not bad enough, Wickham heard more guffaws from behind him. He whirled around, and there were Lord Matlock, the Fitzwilliam brothers, and that Hurst fellow who was always foxed, except this day he was not. His stomach sank when he saw the way Fitzwilliam was looking at him. It was in a way which told Wickham that Fitzwilliam would like nothing better than to be left alone with him. He felt deep fear at that moment.
“Lost your glib tongue, Wicky?” Fitzwilliam taunted.
“Did you think my late father was not serious when he said you would receive nothing on his death? Also, you were told that he was to remove the recommendation for you to receive the living. Unlike you, my late father’s word was his bond,” Darcy hissed.
“By the by, Wicky, do you remember the document which Uncle Robert had you sign at the Blue Heron Inn in Cambridge?” Fitzwilliam said.
“I do, but I thought with his death…” Again, Wickham was cut off.
“Nothing has changed. Contravene any of the things you are forbidden to do, and your debts will be called in. As you know, the amount is well over one thousand pounds. You will be an old man if you ever walk out of debtor’s prison alive,” Fitzwilliam pointed out.
“Now be gone, and do not set foot on any Darcy land or in any Darcy home again, or what my cousin just reminded you of will happen,” Darcy commanded.
A reeling Wickham made his way out of the house and back to the carriage on which he had used most of his coin to rent.
Chapter 8
