Page 25 of Longbourn’s Son (Pride and Prejudice Variation #22)
Colonel Forster shivered in the cold wind as his gray stallion, sensing the warmth of the stable, quickened his trot. The colonel leaned forward and patted the horse’s neck as he said, “Good lad. Yes, we are almost home.”
It had been a busy, tiring day and the colonel was chilled, but he could not keep from smiling.
He had been visiting Mr. Josiah Banfield, a retired army major whose older brother had died without issue and left him heir to a significant fortune.
Forster had met and courted Miss Harriet Banfield, the man’s only daughter, back in Derbyshire, and today he had asked the former major for his blessing on their marriage.
To his delight and relief the major, a rather irascible man, had given his blessing.
Miss Banfield, who was visiting friends in Essex, would return to London within a few days, and soon the colonel would travel back to London and ask her to marry him.
He was quite sure that he would be accepted.
He smiled in satisfaction; Miss Harriet Banfield was young, reasonably comely, and would bring a ten thousand pound dowry into wedlock.
Forster had longed for marriage for many years but was too sensible to tie the knot without appropriate consideration of money.
He rejoiced that at last he had found a moderately wealthy woman who would be a comfortable, unexacting wife.
His horse turned without guidance into the stable yard, and Forster sighed in relief.
The sun had set an hour ago, and while the moon had graciously lit the way with her silver rays, the last miles had been fatiguing ones.
He was very ready to stable his horse, retire to his quarters, and eat a late dinner.
He dismounted a few yards from the stable and called out, “This is Colonel Forster! Open the door, boy!”
A few seconds later, the great doors swung outward, and Forster led his stallion into the barn.
He turned to give instructions for the care of his horse to the stable boy, only to stop in astonishment at the sight of the blacksmith standing with arms crossed.
Seconds later, he felt even more surprised as he observed a cluster of men waiting near the loose box including Mr. Bennet, Sir William Lucas, and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.
“Ah, there are you are, Colonel Forster,” Bennet said. “We have been waiting for you.”
/
“Well, Wickham, you seem to have finally done it,” Colonel Fitzwilliam mused, taking a seat on a handy wooden barrel and grinning unpleasantly at his captive. He had offered to take over guarding the prisoner, and the butcher, who was hungry for his evening meal, accepted with pleasure.
“I made a mistake,” Wickham said sullenly from his position in the far corner of the room. “I was drunk.”
“Yes, it was quite a mistake,” the colonel agreed cheerfully.
“If you had done real damage, I would be greatly disturbed, but it seems young Mr. Bennet will recover quickly. As it is, I can only be thankful that you were idiotic enough to assault a gentleman’s son.
It will make it far easier to remove you from society after this. ”
Wickham shook his head and then cringed as the movement exacerbated the pain in his nose. “Colonel Forster will not permit that.”
“He will unless he is an utter fool, which is admittedly a possibility. A militia regiment depends on the goodwill of the local gentry and common folk. If Forster does not sacrifice you for the greater good, he will find most doors closed to him and his men. In any case, you might do well to leap at a chance at debtors’ prison, Wickham.
Young Mr. Bennet is very popular in these parts, and the local townsfolk might take a leaf from the book of our American cousins and tar and feather you if you remain within their reach. ”
The former godson of George Darcy cringed in horror. Tarring and feathering was a painful and humiliating form of punishment, and occasionally caused permanent scarring.
“They would not dare!” he sputtered.
“It probably will not occur to them,” the colonel agreed regretfully. “But do not worry, my old enemy. I promise you, on my honor, that we will find some way to punish you appropriately.”
“What of Miss Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam? You know that I could easily destroy her reputation if I told of...”
He trailed off in fear as the colonel, his eyes dark with anger, stood up and strode over to loom over the now cringing militia officer.
“No one will believe you if you defame my cousin, Wickham; you have shown yourself a liar, a cheat, and a ruffian. But I would advise you, nonetheless, to keep your mouth shut concerning Miss Darcy. If I hear that you have been spreading tales about her, you will lose a few more teeth, and you will doubtless suffer from broken bones as well. Is that entirely clear?”
Wickham gulped and nodded hastily. “I understand.”
/
Colonel Forster shivered in the chill of the stable and stared irritably at Mr. Bennet.
“With all due respect, I find it difficult to believe that Lieutenant Wickham would be the instigator in a quarrel with your son. He is a charming gentleman, and it would be sheer stupidity for him to attack young Bennet without cause. Mr. Bennet, I daresay it is difficult for you to believe that your son could be at fault in this matter, but young men are often hot blooded, after all.”
“You are saying that my son asked to be assaulted?” Mr. Bennet barked. “Do not be a fool, man! Wickham is a reprobate, and if Milton had not interfered, the lieutenant and his minions could have fatally injured my son!”
“Mr. Bennet is entirely correct that the man is a villain,” Darcy interposed, carefully removing a stack of receipts from the pocket of his greatcoat. “Look at these debt receipts, Colonel, which show that Wickham has run up countless unpaid bills from a tender age.”
Colonel Forster hesitatingly took the receipts and began looking through them, then looked up and demanded, “ All these receipts are for debts Wickham left unpaid?”
“That is correct,” Darcy said crisply. “He traded on the Darcy name in the town of Lambton, near my estate of Pemberley, and then decamped without paying his accounts. I could not permit the merchants and shopkeepers to suffer and thus took the burden of his debts upon myself. I will add that in addition to his monetary crimes, Wickham is responsible for more than one maiden in Lambton losing her virtue, and my estate is supporting several of his bastard children.”
Forster flushed in mortification and anger, his thoughts whirling as he digested this new information.
“It would have been helpful if I had been made aware of the man’s depraved conduct once he arrived in Meryton to take a position in my regiment, Mr. Darcy,” he said stiffly.
“Mr. Bennet and Sir William warned you of Wickham’s despicable conversation with Captain Williamson in this very stable, which no doubt ultimately led to the attack here tonight.
” Darcy returned sharply. “You were not inclined to listen to them as you, like many a gentleman before you, were taken in by Wickham’s smooth speech and handsome features. ”
“The latter, at least, is quite at an end of now,” Milton rumbled with obvious satisfaction. “Wickham is sporting a broken nose, black eyes, and a missing front tooth. I doubt the ladies will be swooning at the sight of the rogue for some time.”
Forster winced and said, “May I inquire as to Williamson’s location? I understand that he was not part of this outrage?”
“He was not directly involved,” Darcy agreed, “and we do not know where he is. I would suggest, however, that you summon him immediately; given that he plotted with Wickham to cheat the local youth, it seems entirely likely that the man instigated the assault on Mr. Bennet.”
The militia colonel nodded. “Very well, I will have one of my men roust him out of his quarters. Shall we go inside?”
/
Major Darracott squared his shoulders and knocked on the sitting room door.
Mr. Bennet, Sir William, Mr. Darcy, and the blacksmith had all decamped to the stable where young Luke Bennet had supposedly been assaulted.
With the lad alone save for two of his young sisters, the major thought it the perfect time to interview the young man and, if possible, convince him of the inadvisability of bringing formal charges against the amiable Lieutenant Wickham.
There was no answer to his knock and he lifted his fist to knock even harder. A moment later, Miss Elizabeth Bennet opened the door and frowned indignantly. “My brother is resting. What do you want, Major Darracott?”
He bowed a little and said, “I need to speak to Mr. Luke Bennet to hear his side of what happened today in the stables. Kindly let me pass within.”
Elizabeth stepped out of the sitting room, shutting the door behind her, and shook her head resolutely. “My brother is weary and in pain, and cannot be disturbed.”
“I fear I must insist,” the man said, straightening his spine to better loom over the young lady. He was not a particularly tall man, but he was considerably taller than Miss Elizabeth, who was a petite young lady.
The girl glared at him, her eyes so fierce that he quailed a little. “You are not permitted to speak to my brother without my father present,” she snapped. “I have no intention of allowing another militia officer to harm my dear brother.”
“I do not wish to harm him, Miss, but I will speak to him. Now move aside!”
Elizabeth took a menacing step forward and said curtly, “I suggest that you withdraw, Major. Mr. Wickham will be punished severely for his actions tonight, and unless you wish to share in his misfortune, I advise you to leave us alone immediately.”
“Major Darracott, move away from my daughter instantly,” Bennet snarled, having come up behind the two in the middle of their confrontation.