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This was what he had been waiting for. All of his enemies in one place at one time, and better still at Pemberley, which he knew as well as any estate at which he had ever worked. “This is good news; tell me everything you learnt.”

Wickham/Waterford listened with rapt attention as Younge reported to him how the maid had told him that thanks to the unseasonably warm weather, the celebration of the Duchess’s birthday was to be held on the grass between the house and the shores of the lake.

He knew the place well, and it was close to a stand of trees, already with foliage, where it would be easy to hide himself and his men.

Besides Younge, he had found two men, both excellent shots, who would do anything for a fee. Between the four of them, they would be able to bring down four or more of his enemies before they knew what was happening.

It had taken years of patience, but those responsible for George’s death would finally pay for their crimes.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Elizabeth woke at Castlemere on the morning she turned one and twenty, Wednesday, the fifth day of March, to feathered kisses all over her face from her husband.

“Wake up, my dearest Lizzy; your sisters and some of the family are waiting for you to share a celebratory meal with you before we depart for Pemberley,” Hertfordshire said softly.

How he loved watching her wake, especially as most nights, like she had the previous one, she slept without clothing.

As she stretched, the coverlet was pulled below her perfectly formed breasts.

She knew what Archy was looking at, but rather than cover up, Elizabeth allowed the rest of the coverlet to slowly but surely fall off until the whole of her naked body was exposed to her husband.

Seeing her like she was, Hertfordshire almost dove back onto the bed to pull her to himself.

Only the need to be at Pemberley on time, to once and for all end the threat of Lucas Wickham and his hapless helpers, and defang him permanently, stopped him from joining his Lizzy in the bed.

That and it was not a good day with his pains.

As much as he was in anticipation of dealing with Wickham, he was wishing there was no need to have the discussion with his Lizzy, the one he had sworn he would have with her.

“Cruel man!” Elizabeth said with put-on asperity. “Ring for Lettie, and I will be down as soon as I am dressed.”

Hertfordshire pulled the cord which would summon Jennings to her mistress. In the meanwhile, he disappeared into his dressing room to have his valet tie his cravat and add his waistcoat and a morning coat.

The breaking of their fasts was a lively affair with all of Elizabeth’s sisters, the Gardiners, the Phillipses, and Charles and Jane.

The Bingleys had returned from their wedding trip five days before the departure from London towards the north.

The Bingleys, which included Charles’s Aunt Hildebrand, would depart to take up residence at Longfield Meadows on Monday coming.

At the time they had planned, the residents of Castlemere, including the children, boarded the coaches for the less than an hour journey to Pemberley.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Wickham and his men arrived at Pemberley well before sunup.

Each man selected the lower branches of a tree which gave them a clear view of the area where those celebrating the birthday would be.

At the same time, hiding them from view, unless one knew where to look.

Each man had two rifles and two pistols with them, expertly loaded and checked by the two men Wickham had added.

They used to serve in the army and were experts with weapons.

They all needed preloaded weapons, as there would not be enough time to reload before some of the guards would be upon them.

They would each shoot twice and then clamber down and escape. For now, all they had to do was wait. Their escape was assured. The steward had shown the other men a path through the forest behind them that led to a clearing where Karen was waiting with their horses at the ready.

He had chosen the Duke and Duchess as his targets.

It was the Duke who had reported George and not stopped the travesty of a sentence from being carried out.

His wife was his target because it would give him pleasure.

The Darcy children would be targeted by Clay, and the two Fitzwilliam sons by one of the men.

The other man was free to target anyone he chose.

At around ten, just like Younge had reported they would, footmen prepared the area with blankets, chairs, and tables to be ready for the revellers who would arrive starting at eleven.

Food and drink of many varieties were placed on the tables.

Two footmen carried a cake, one of four tiers in height, and placed it in the centre of the one table.

It seemed that the Duke of Hertfordshire and his party had already arrived, because at eleven, they, the Fitzwilliams, Darcys, and others Wickham did not know, made their way to where the celebration was to be held.

He saw the Duke walking with little boys either side of him.

Wickham saw red! Here was a man who had two sons while his own son was in the ground!

In that instant, he decided he would target the children first. It would be poetic justice for his enemy to live with the anguish of lost sons, just like Wickham had since George had been unjustly taken from him.

As soon as the revellers were close enough, Wickham lifted his rifle, and he aimed for the body of the older boy.

He saw Younge ready his weapon, aiming it at one of the Darcy offspring.

The signal for the others to shoot was his first shot.

At this distance he would not miss; Wickham made sure his aim was true and pulled the trigger.

There was a flash and an explosion which burnt his eyes and hands; he heard a second explosion right after and Younge howling like a child.

In his pain, Wickham felt himself falling.

He hit the hard ground, but that pain was nothing to that of his eyes and hands, and worse, he could not see anything but lights and shapes.

He tried to sit up but was roughly pushed down.

Even without being able to see clearly, he could tell that the cold steel of a rifle barrel was pressed against his forehead.

“Don’ move,” Biggs growled.

Like Wickham, or Waterford as Younge knew him, the latter could not see and also felt a part of a weapon pushed against his head. He was still screaming from pain and the burning in his eyes, out of which he could see nothing.

“Did you really think we would allow you to harm any of us?” Hertfordshire bit out as the two men were lifted onto their feet. He turned to the two of Biggs’s and Johns’s men who had been ‘employed’ by Wickham. “Peters and Johnson, you did very well. You sabotaged their rifles perfectly.”

Both men bowed to His Grace.

“I fought for you not to be transported, and this is how you repay my kindness? By attempting to commit murder at my estate?” Darcy barked.

“ You killed my George ,” Wickham yelled, ignoring the pain.

“No, Wickham, you and your wife killed him by indulging him and not teaching him right from wrong,” Hertfordshire drawled.

“You have blamed us for what occurred, but all you did was deflect the blame from yourself. And the sad thing is I think you know you are the one who led your son down the road to crime which ended in his hanging.”

“Take your filthy hands off me,” Karen Waterford shrieked. Then she remembered how the Duke addressed her husband. “Wait, who is Wickham? His name is Waterford.”

“No, it is not. His real name is Lucas Wickham. He was once my steward until he was sacked. Unless he had his name changed officially before he took you as his wife, your marriage to him will be invalidated,” Darcy informed the irate woman.

Men had been sent to the clearing and taken the wife into custody.

Although she had not pointed a rifle at anyone or attempted to shoot it, she did aid and abet them knowing what was planned.

“Peter, tell them what this man said is false!” Karen demanded.

Wickham turned his head away from the blurry form of the woman who thought she was his wife, not saying a word.

She and her brother had been useful, but now they were nothing to him.

All of the wasted years, and in the end, it had come to nought.

As much as he did not want to acknowledge the validity of the Duke’s words, deep down, Wickham knew it was the truth.

He had been angry at himself and had attempted to make others pay for his own errors.

“You three will be turned over to the magistrate to be tried for attempted murder,” Matlock announced. “It seems you will be joining your son after paying the same price he did.”

“You may take them away,” Hertfordshire told his wife’s head guards.

He would join his Lizzy and children in the house for the real celebration shortly.

The women and children had been hurried into the house as soon as the first rifle exploded.

They had never been in danger. If the two men had not confirmed the rifles would explode, the conspirators would have been taken into custody before they ever climbed into their trees.

As the criminals were led away, Younge still moaning, the men made their way towards the house to join the women and children.