On Sunday morning, the cousins, along with all the fellow students who attended their college, made their way to King’s College Chapel to attend the Sabbath church service[1].
It being an unseasonably pleasant day, Richard and William took a walk past St Joseph’s College on their way to a tavern to enjoy the after-church meal. They noticed one man surrounded by three others against a wall of the college, far away from the entrance or the front where the dons had offices. The three were knocking the one around.
“It is not our business,” William claimed as Richard made his way towards the group.
“Then stay here!” Richard spat.
As the antagonists had not seen him approach and upon reaching the group ofbravemen who were attacking one man when there were three of them, Richard cleared his throat. The three turned towards him while one of them held the man with strawberry blond hair against the wall. There was some blood trickling down from the victim’s split lip.
“Move along; we are trying to remove the stench of trade from this one. If you know what is good for you, you will leave us and mind your own concerns,” the ringleader hissed. “Besides, we are three and you are one.”
Richard shot his fist out with lightning speed and great force, laying one of the bullies on his back. “Now it is two against two,” he growled.
“Actually, it is three against two,” William said as he stood behind his cousin.
“How could you do that when we were only having some sport with a tradesman’s son? You must be one of his ilk as well,” the ringleader blustered with false bravado.
“Not that it is yours to know; I am one of the sons of the Earl of Matlock, and the tall fellow is a Darcy of Pemberley. Tell me, do any of your fathers have investments?” Richard saw nods from all three, including the one groaning on the ground. “Then, you are hypocrites; your own fathers make money fromtrade.”
“That is not the same thing,” the man who had been holding their victim returned without very much conviction.
Richard Fitzwilliam grabbed the ringleader by his cravat and lifted his feet clear of the ground without any effort. “Let me hear that you and yourmendo this again, to this man or any other, and I will challenge you to a match in pugilism. You will not be fit to be seen for weeks after I am finished with you.” Richard looked at the two cohorts. The other one, who had just stood, was holding his nose. “That goes for all of you. Am I understood?” He put the ringleader down.
There were three nods after which the bullies left at a run.
“It pleases me that you decided to join me and do the right thing,” Richard said to his cousin. He turned to the man who was pulling his coat straight. “I am Richard Fitzwilliam, second son of the Earl of Matlock, and this is my cousin, William Darcy, from Pemberley in Derbyshire. And you are?”
“Bingley, Charles Bingley from Scarborough, in Yorkshire. My father’s business builds ships for the Dutch East India company,” he stated as he used his handkerchief to wipe the blood from his lip. “Jolly decent of you to help me, especially when you are related to nobility, and I am the son of a tradesman. Although there have been no physical attacks like today, since I began here last term, many of my fellow students have made their disdain for how my father makes his money very clear, even though, as you said, some of their fathers invest in his business.”
For some reason, notwithstanding he was wary because this Bingley man was from trade, William decided he was worth knowing. The man was amiable and jovial in the face of the abuse he had suffered at the three cowards’ hands. He was not gently born and was far below William in rank and status.However, he seemed gentlemanlike. What harm would it do to come to know him here at Cambridge?
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Once word spread that Charles Bingley was accepted into the circle of friends which included Richard Fitzwilliam and William Darcy, no one attempted to harm him again.
By the time the academic year ended on the first Tuesday of July 1802, the three men were fast friends. Richard and William accepted that Bingley was not a resolute man, bordering on being capricious, and was someone who had a hard time not bending to the will of others.
Bingley had issued more than one invitation to Scarborough, which the cousins had declined. They had heard him speak of his two sisters. His descriptions, especially of the younger one’s character, were enough to discourage the cousins from accepting his invitations. William had issued an invitation for Bingley alone, for three weeks in August after writing to, and receiving permission to do so from, his father. He ignored Richard’s hints that it was not a good idea and that Bingley would not be alone. William could not think that anyone would arrive at his father’s estate without invitation.
This summer, rather than stopping at Snowhaven, the cousins made their way directly to Pemberley. They arrived in the afternoon of the eighth of July, two days before William’s nineteenth birthday.
Except for his Aunt Catherine and Anne de Bourgh—she was too sickly to travel such a distance—who had not been invited, and Hilldale, who was still on his grand tour—he would return to England in March of 1803—the family were present to celebrate William’s birthday.
Gigi, who was now six, was very excited to have her brother and favourite cousin home for the summer. She alsomissed George, who would entertain her when she was alone and he was at the estate.
George Wickham arrived at his father’s cottage from Oxford on Wednesday of the following week, again in a rented carriage, not a Darcy conveyance. As much as it had irked him, knowing that Mr Darcy had him on a short leash, George Wickham kept his nose clean for the rest of the academic year. He was sure with good reports reaching Mr Darcy, he would be able to charm him into becoming his godfather once again. There was a certain cachet being able to say he was Mr Robert Darcy’s godson, and George missed that.
What had been particularly vexing was having to live within the constraints of the allowance his father gave him. Mr Darcy no longer added any funds to what George’s father sent, and if he opened a credit account, he could not do so in that prig William’s name, as they were not at the same school.
His aim was to ingratiate himself with Mr Darcy this summer so things would go back to the way they had been before he had been so unfairly treated.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
George could not understand why, when he had been his most charming self, and Mr Darcy had said he was pleased by the reports he had received, that nothing had changed. In fact, Mr Darcy had told him that it would take for him to complete his three years of studies in the same fashion before he would consider making any changes.
That was not what he wanted to hear, so when he was not entertaining little Georgiana, he was skulking about the place, refusing his father’s entreaties to work so he would be able to earn additional coin for when he was back at Oxford.
His late mother had assured him that he could not be so charming and handsome for no reason. She convinced him,which became part of his persona, that he was destined for great things and would not have to toil for his money like his father and others did. Hence, work was out of the question.
