Page 14 of Longbourn’s Son (Pride and Prejudice Variation #22)
Darcy found himself on his feet, and he pulled his young sister into his arms and embraced her.
They were orphans, the two of them – rich, well-connected, but alone.
Of course they had many relations, but the bond between the siblings was powerful, and yes, Georgiana was right, God had mercifully brought him to Ramsgate in time to save his little sister.
Instead of dwelling on what might have been, he ought to be thankful for what actually came to pass.
“Fitzwilliam?” Georgiana murmured, even as she fervently returned his embrace.
“Yes?”
She stepped back now and looked up gravely into his face.
“I am concerned about Mr. Wickham. He truly is a most charming man, on the outside anyway, and I imagine sets off a red coat to advantage. I know he runs up debts wherever he goes, and obviously is desirous of marrying an heiress. Ought we not to warn the local merchants and fathers and brothers of well-dowered ladies?”
Darcy winced and shook his head. “My dear Georgie, I dare not. He holds your reputation in his hands. If he were to tell the polite world of your agreement to elope, you could be greatly damaged socially.”
“And if he did so, you could have him thrown into either Marshalsea or King’s Bench, is that not true?” his sister inquired shrewdly. “I know that you hold many of his debt receipts from Lambton. You could threaten him with debtors’ prison if he dared to speak a word about me.”
Darcy stared down at her with a mixture of awe and respect.
“I do hold the receipts, yes. I fear he might not believe me, however. I was hindered for many years from dealing with him appropriately due to our father’s great love for him.
I am cognizant that my own lack of courage in dealing firmly with Wickham has brought trouble to our family, and I deeply regret that. ”
Georgiana Darcy turned to the fire, her eyes fixed on the glowing coals below the grate, and then she turned resolutely to gaze into her brother’s dark eyes.
“I believe Wickham will respect your threats if you include the fact that you have sent a letter to our Richard regarding this entire matter. I believe Wickham is afraid of our cousin, and he knows that Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam of the Regulars would not hesitate to throw him into prison.”
Her brother took a minute to answer, but when he did, his tone was lighter. “My dear sister, that is quite brilliant. Richard would happily run a sword through Wickham for his actions at Ramsgate; our old enemy will quiver in terror at the thought of Richard becoming involved in this matter."
/
“Thank you, Will,” Luke Bennet said, handing a coin to the stable boy. Will pocketed the money and bobbed his head respectfully.
“And thank you, Mr. Bennet.”
Luke inhaled one last happy breath of stable air, delightfully fragrant with equine, and stepped out into the chilly November afternoon.
It was rather amusing that he was paying a stable boy for the privilege of doing the young man’s work, but such was Luke’s passion for fine horseflesh that he felt the small amount of money changing hands to be entirely reasonable.
For all that Will was not well educated – indeed, Luke doubted that the youth could read well or possibly even at all – he was extremely well versed in the ways of horses.
Will knew about thoroughbreds, and carriage horses, and ponies, and work horses, and pregnant mares, and stallions, and geldings.
He knew how to manage a difficult horse, and how to soothe a fearful one.
Luke, in spite of his higher standing in society, felt very much the student to the master when he was working with Will.
The young man, for his part, treated young Mr. Bennet as a social superior, but did not grovel.
All in all, it was a most satisfactory friendship.
Luke marched happily toward home, his absent gaze noting that the autumn sun was still some two hours from sinking behind the horizon. He would have time to consult with his shepherd regarding the current status of the pregnant ewes before he needed to clean up and change for dinner.
“Luke!” cried a male voice, and the youth halted and grinned at the slightly older man who had just exited the nearby modiste’s shop.
“Samuel, how are you?” Luke asked courteously.
Samuel Lucas, heir to Sir William Lucas, rolled his eyes and said in a long-suffering tone, “I am exceptionally bored. My mother is not feeling well today and my father is busy with accounts; thus, it fell to me to escort my sisters to be fitted for new dresses by Mrs. Smythe.”
“Why do they need an escort?” Luke asked in confusion. “It is only half a mile from Lucas Lodge to the middle of town, after all.”
“I know,” Samuel agreed with an irritable frown, “but Charlotte insists on male escort for Maria when the military men are about, and my father supports her.”
“The military men?” Luke repeated, glancing around. There were several officers walking the main street, and all of them looking entirely respectable, even distinguished, in their uniforms.
“Yes, Charlotte has a female friend whose cousin was supposedly ruined by a militia officer, or something of that sort, and she insists that Maria is too young to be permitted to walk alone in town while the militia is here. Charlotte herself is planning to visit Mr. and Mrs. Allen in the rectory in a few minutes, and thus I am required to shepherd my silly little sister home when she and Charlotte are finished with the fittings. It is quite tedious.”
“I wonder if I ought to worry about my own sisters,” Luke said in a troubled tone. “Kitty and Lydia are both handsome and young, after all.”
“Oh, Luke, do not, I beg of you, get yourself tied up in knots over the idiotic fears of my elder sister! The officers are very fine gentlemen, and far more interesting than most of our neighbors. Indeed, that is why I wished to speak to you. Have you heard that all the young men in the neighborhood are invited to the military barracks tomorrow night for a ... not a party, exactly, but a gathering?”
“I had not heard that, no,” Luke admitted.
“Well, I have, and I do hope you will come! It should be a fine time.”
“Will there be dancing?” Luke demanded, deeply suspicious.
“Of course not, you nodcock! There will be no women, and thus no dancing. I daresay there will be card playing and storytelling and the like; I, for one, am very ready to hear news of distant lands.”
“Since these are members of the militia, it is unlikely many of them have left England’s shores,” Luke pointed out precisely.
Samuel shrugged as the door to the dressmaker’s shop opened and Miss Lucas called out, “Samuel, we are finished!”
“They know more about the world than the sluggards here in Meryton,” Samuel said petulantly, taking a few reluctant steps toward his older sister. “Do come, Luke. If nothing else, you can ask some of the officers about their horses!”
The denial on the tip of Luke’s tongue was quickly swallowed and he nodded. “That is quite true, Samuel. I will be there.”