Page 14

On the street between the livery stable and the local tavern named the Running Pig; Fitzwilliam Darcy came face to face with George Wickham.

Darcy had not seen the other man since the week following his father’s funeral seven years earlier.

The years had been kind to both men, and they bowed politely to one another.

“Darcy,” George called in greeting. “How fortuitous to meet you in Hertfordshire after all these years.”

“Fate and happenstance, Wickham,” Darcy said. He looked George over and found his garments sturdy and appropriate for a man of business. Recognising the look, George hid any offence and did not return the same look so obviously.

“What brings you to Meryton?” they asked simultaneously.

George grinned while Darcy smirked and spoke first, “I have come to help my friend Charles Bingley settle into his role as the leaseholder for an estate hereabout.”

“A friend brought you to Meryton? I can say the same; I have two friends who are officers in the militia who recently bivouacked here in Hertfordshire. They say Meryton was picked because it provides easy access to London with plentiful food for the quartermaster to purchase.”

Darcy looked interested and asked, “Easy access to London? Are they to provide defence if Bonaparte comes calling?”

George Wickham looked confused and asked, “Has Colonel Fitzwilliam told you anything contrary to what the newspapers report?”

“No. The emperor of France issued a decree that forbade anyone in his empire from trading with Britain. He hopes to strangle us financially since he cannot win on the battlefield. But occasionally, someone spreads a rumour of invasion that spurs riots,” Darcy explained.

“In those instances, the army must restore order in the streets of London.”

“And how will Parliament respond to Emperor Bonaparte?” asked George, watching several townspeople walking along and overhearing parts of the conversation.

Darcy did not answer the question. “We shall have to wait and see.”

“Will you linger long in Hertfordshire?”

“Just until Christmas,” replied Darcy. “And you?”

“I am in Meryton for one night more, and then I return to the city,” George replied. “Business matters.”

Darcy inclined his head politely and wished Wickham well. The men parted, with Wickham walking toward the tavern and Darcy walking toward the livery stable. He was to meet his coachman at the location after the local blacksmith examined the shoes on the team of horses.

As he walked, Fitzwilliam Darcy remembered George Wickham’s true character and past schemes.

Beginning during their time at university, George had dallied with any woman he could induce into a private interview, stole money by hook or crook, and refused to work.

Darcy did not change his stride when he realised, ‘George meeting me on the street was staged. There is nothing along this street but the livery. I wonder how long he lingered, waiting for me to appear instead of walking back to the tavern where he could have spoken to me in front of others?’

Fitzwilliam Darcy’s face grew sombre with a memory, ‘Our last meeting was seven years ago at Pemberley. And I was prepared that day.’

~~~

The tense meeting occurred at the end of the day when Fitzwilliam worked through his father’s will with the attorneys and handed out the bequests left to servants and acquaintances.

When led into the office that had been Old Mr Darcy’s, the Young Mr Darcy did not offer George any refreshment but immediately went to the matter of his father’s will.

Fitzwilliam Darcy revealed that Wickham would receive a cheque for one thousand pounds as a bequest from his godfather.

Continuing the conversation, Fitzwilliam suggested the other man accept a second cheque for three thousand pounds instead of anticipating the position of parson in the village of Kympton at some future date.

“My father wished you to take orders, George. But you and I know you could not serve a parish properly.”

Grimacing as if he were offended by the comment, Wickham asked, “Do you doubt my faith?”

“I know you, George. If you were to accept orders, there would eventually be a scene with the Archbishop of York where you would be defrocked. And never have these thousands.”

George Wickham’s face remained congenially as he asked, “So can I walk away with four thousand pounds today?”

Motioning toward the attorneys and gentlemen present to witness the disbursement of the wealth from the estate according to the last will and testament of the late George Darcy, Fitzwilliam said, “These gentlemen will present you with the first cheque without qualification.”

“And all the other witnesses?” George inquired, referring to the crowd of men.

“They witnessed each bequest being disbursed. I thought it prudent to have numerous witnesses because my father remembered many persons in his will.”

“Yes, Mrs Cleary for one, I imagine,” George said, alluding to Old Mr Darcy’s last mistress.

Darcy did not flinch or frown to have his father’s relationship of many years with the woman spoken of again.

The woman and her child were already on the road in a Darcy carriage to be settled at an estate in the south, far from the Darcy family.

Again, Fitzwilliam motioned to all the men in the room and continued, “Once you sign a letter renouncing all claims to the living in Kympton in front of these witnesses, the attorneys will hand you the second cheque for an additional three thousand pounds.”

“You have gathered half of the village for this moment,” George commented. He smiled and asked, “Can you see your way clear to provide me with the funds necessary to reach London, where the banks can cash the cheques?”

One of the attorneys choked away a cough when he heard the cheeky request, but Fitzwilliam replied, “I know my father always gifted you with coins when you visited. In his memory, I shall give you one last purse.”

George read and signed the letter renouncing all future claims to the living at Kympton in return for three thousand pounds and received the cheque.

The last bequest settled, Darcy escorted all the visitors to the door, keeping George Wickham at his side the whole distance to the front of the house.

Hopeful of never seeing George Wickham again, Fitzwilliam Darcy watched the visitors climb into various carriages to return to Lambton.

George climbed into the Darcy carriage with the parson from Lambton and left Pemberley.

The attorney coughed and commented, “You honoured the man by walking with him to the door, Mr Darcy.”

“No. I wanted to make certain he did not lift some bauble or bowl from the tables on his way out the door,” Darcy admitted. “Mrs Reynolds will remove all such items from the public rooms before sunset. It entertained my father to discover which visitors would pocket small porcelains and dishes.”

~~~

Filing the memory away as he drew close to the livery stable, Darcy wondered, ‘Is some scheme at play here in Meryton? Without a doubt, George Wickham has a stratagem in everything he does. But I shall not intrude into the scheme.’

~~~

Not glancing backwards, George continued along the street, nodding to the people he encountered on his way back to the Running Pig.

‘It will appear that Darcy and I discussed business in the street, and I shall feed that story to gild my reputation. And Darcy will wonder at my plans but will have no clues to act on.’ And George decided that the mighty and reserved Fitzwilliam Darcy would not insert himself into anyone’s situation.

The several times he had observed Darcy over the past seven years, it had been from a distance or through informants. In spring, he had seen Darcy and Georgiana coming out of church on Sunday and noticing the girl was developing nicely; the idea of seducing her and obtaining her dowry was born.

‘Old Mr Darcy left his daughter a dowry of fifty thousand pounds. That would have set me up nicely for life,’ George thought, remembering hearing the details in the last will and testament seven years ago. ‘Georgiana is at least five-and-ten and would have made a sweet bride.’

Purchasing drinks for a Darcy footman was a cheap inside source of information.

It only took a month to have Mrs Young’s credentials in place to apply for the position of Georgiana’s lady’s companion.

Unfortunately, someone in the house ferreted out the subterfuge, resulting in Edith Young being dismissed before practically being thrown into the street.

‘Miss Bingley’s dowry of twenty thousand pounds would have made a suitable consolation prize, but she will never forgive my origins in trade,’ he knew.

‘I shall settle for half. And I must discover if she is greedy enough to seek quick profits. Leaky started the game nicely. I shall use some of my funds to bait the trap.’

George settled at a table in the Running Pig for a modest lunch. He would eat well tomorrow night at Lucas Lodge and search for the person to help forward his scheme.

~~~

Shortly after Mr Darcy left the livery in his carriage-and-four to return to Netherfield, the stagecoach from London arrived.

Among the passengers who descended from the compartment and received their trunk from the top of the coach was a youngish man dressed in a black hat, coat, waistcoat, trousers, and boots.

The only colour in his clothing was the white collar around his neck that marked him as a clergyman.

There was speculation among the townsfolk regarding this man, and they followed his progress through the town in the back of a rented cart from the livery. Eyes watched the cart pass the office of Mr Phillips before the cart turned on the road toward Longbourn and Netherfield.

“Has Mr Bingley ordered a clergyman to come and pray over his farms?” one man asked of his wife.

In the tavern, patrons exchanged remarks, “Is Mr Bennet replacing the parson at the chapel? That’s his living to grant.”