Page 59 of The Next Mrs Bennet

S tarting with the first row, six rows of pews on the lefthand side of Lambton’s church were filled for the Easter service by the party from Pemberley. With the added visitors at the estate, there was standing room only to hear Reverend Lambert deliver his Easter lesson.

The novelty of a duchess attending their church had worn off to a certain extent for the parishioners. Besides the Duchess, for those enamoured with nobility, there was additionally an earl, a countess, and a viscount attending the service as well.

Even though they were unrestrained in showing affection between them at Pemberley, at the church Elizabeth’s friends—a group which was considerably larger than before she had been residing at the Darcy estate—and family were circumspect in the way they related to her in public.

Notwithstanding the fact John and Brian had assured Her Grace there were none working for her husband who would report back to him about her activities in the area, other than the information they sent—which they allowed the Duchess to read beforehand—Elizabeth had decided to err on the side of caution. Something all the adults residing at Pemberley agreed with whole heartedly.

Elizabeth was seated in the front pew—as befit one of her rank—between Lady Matlock and Jane. Her Uncle Adam had just asked the congregation to recite some silent prayers.

‘ Lord God Who art in Heaven, please save me from this hellish marriage I am in. Since I came to Derbyshire and have not seen him , my life has at least been tolerable. I thank You for enabling me to spend time with those I love and for allowing me to meet my new friends. Surely I have paid enough penance having had him importune me until I fell with child.

‘ On that subject, could You have not granted my falling in that state some months earlier? It would have saved me many times the disgraceful man lay with me. But I suppose You had a plan for me all along. Had it happened sooner, the Darcys and Fitzwilliams would have been in London and there is a chance I would not have met them. Please pardon me Lord if I am questioning Your plan. It is not my place to do so.

‘ I am not sure what I am asking regarding my husband, but one thing I do know, which I am sure You know all too well, he is the least godly man I have ever encountered. Of one thing I am certain, when You decide it is his time, he will not be going to Heaven.

‘ Please God, keep protecting my sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends. They have all been so very good to me and they deserve every good thing You decide to bestow on them. In Jesus’s name I send you my prayer. ’

The whole time she had been beseeching God, Elizabeth’s eyes had been pointed to the heavens.

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

It was no surprise to Wickham that His Grace did not attend church services that morning. In all of the time he had been employed by the Duke, he could not remember a single instance his master had attended church.

Even at Falconwood when the curate came to deliver the Sunday service at the chapel, Her Grace attended along with the servants; His Grace never did.

At that moment Wickham and the Duke of Hertfordshire were sitting in the old, unmarked carriage a little distance from St. George’s church. Rather than wait near Jersey House, the Duke had decided he wanted to see Jersey and his children depart while Lady Sarah De Melville was conveyed home on her own.

They had been there for about half an hour when the church bells began to peal indicating the end of the Easter service.

“You see Your Grace, two coaches with Jersey markings have been pulled forward to the front of the church,” Wickham stated as he pointed to the conveyances.

“So far things are going according to my plan,” Hertfordshire returned.

As the two men watched, they saw the Earl of Jersey hand his wife into the lead carriage. He, his son, and his daughter stood and waved as the coach pulled away. The three then boarded the second conveyance. Unlike the one which had departed in the direction of Jersey House, the second coach turned onto a street which led away from Mayfair in the direction expected for the reported destination.

“I used the last of your funds you gave me to bribe Lord Jersey’s coachman. He will turn a two hour journey into more than three hours each way, so you will have even more time than we had originally planned,” Wickham reported.

“Excellent, I am well pleased I instructed you to do that,” the Duke claimed.

After a nod from His Grace, Wickham struck the ceiling with his cane and they began to move in the direction of Jersey House. They arrived at Portman Square just in time to observe Lady Jersey being handed out of the coach by one of her footmen.

The driver of the Duke’s carriage halted the equipage in the position Wickham had instructed him, which gave them an unobstructed view of the front facade of Jersey House.

Within a half hour first one, then two, and then soon several more men slipped out of the house. The last one came out of the ballroom side of the house and nodded towards the carriage before he too melted away like the rest of the men had.

Given the Duke did not want to walk too far, Wickham signalled the coachman to approach Jersey House. Per his instructions, the carriage stopped in a place where the view of other houses—more importantly their view of Jersey House—was obscured by trees.

Wickham alighted and then assisted his large master to do the same. He looked left and right and saw no one. As he had promised the Duke, there were no footmen on duty in front of the entrance door of the house.

“There is no one about, Your Grace. We can proceed,” Wickham told his master.

Hertfordshire lumbered after his man. They reached the side of the house where there were three stone steps leading to a door that was cracked open. Although he was out of breath after climbing the stairs, the Duke was well pleased when he and his man entered Jersey House’s ballroom.

He had attended a ball here during his brief marriage to his first wife. It had been the last time he had been invited to any social event at this house, and then soon after his second wife passed away, any invitations from members of the Ton dried up altogether.

What he considered his ill-usage was part of what drove Hertfordshire to dally with married women, and he loved taking that which was not available to him. Given what Jersey had tried to take away from him, had marked him for a particularly hard lesson, one Hertfordshire would dispense this day, in a matter of minutes in fact.

They reached the doors at the other end of the ballroom which led into the main part of the house. “Please wait here, Your Grace, and allow me to verify there is no one between us and the stairs,” Wickham requested respectfully.

The Duke waved Wickham forward. He was happy for the respite to catch his breath before he had to climb the stairs to the family floor.

It took Wickham less than five minutes to confirm there were no obstacles leading to the stairs. After informing his master of this, he led the Duke out of the ballroom, along a corridor to the main entrance hall and the grand staircase.

Even though he had already checked to make sure their way was clear, Wickham looked around to double check there was no one about. He nodded and the two men began a slow climb up the main stairs. Rather than ask the Duke what speed to go, Wickham knew to take his time. That way their speed of climbing the stairs would be because of the pace he set and not the corpulent Duke needing to slow down and rest.

They arrived on the second floor and again Wickham looked around and saw no one. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket with the directions to reach the master suite, which he told the master was provided by the maid he had seduced.

It took longer than it should have because Wickham walked very slowly to accommodate the huffing and puffing of the Duke as he attempted to bring his breathing rate back to normal levels.

“This is the door, Your Grace,” Wickham whispered. “The maid suggested her Ladyship recline on the bed in the Earl’s bedchamber. Are you sure you do not require my presence with you?”

“As I already told you, no, I do not. Wait here,” the Duke averred with asperity.

Hertfordshire turned the door handle and then pushed it open. He advanced inside of the room. The chamber was darkened and there was a form he could make out on the bed. It seemed his enemy’s wife was resting just like he had planned. This would be easier than he expected.

He pushed the door closed which plunged the room into almost total darkness. He was frustrated Wickham had not provided a candle for him. The damned man should have known she liked the room dark when resting.

The problem was he did not know where the door was and it would have been too humiliating to call out to Wickham to open the door. He felt along the wall and eventually found the window and pulled the curtains aside as hard as he was able.

“What are you doing in my bedchamber,” a voice called out. From the times he had spoken to Jersey, he recognised the voice as his. But how could he be here?

Slowly he turned back towards the voice of his enemy. There standing, all with pistols trained on him was Jersey, his son, some other men, and Wickham!

Ignoring the fact he had been caught in Lord Jersey’s bedchamber, he looked at Wickham indignantly. “What is the meaning of this betrayal, Wickham?” he demanded. “You will be dead before this day is out!”

“Did you really think I would allow you to harm Her Grace like you planned to after she bore you an heir? And as you are about to die, how would you be able to order anyone to do anything?” Wickham laughed derisively.

“Of what do you speak?” Hertfordshire asked nervously not feeling nearly as confident as he had before. Then he convinced himself none of them would harm a duke.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled his pistol out intending to end Wickham himself. The last thing Lord Archibald Winston Chamberlain did in the mortal world before he was sent to hell was to cock his small pistol.

As soon as he saw the Duke cock his weapon, Lord Jersey, who was a crack shot, fired his pistol striking the dissolute duke between his eyes, killing him instantly.

The corpulent body fell face forward onto the floor.

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

A few days after the Duke told Wickham what he desired:

The Earl of Jersey was in his study with his son and heir, Wesley, Viscount Westmore when the butler knocked on the door and entered when bade to do so.

“There is a Mr. Wickham who works for His Grace the Duke of Hertfordshire here to see you, my Lord,” the butler intoned.

“I want nothing to do with anyone associated with that man,” the Earl spat out with distaste.

“That is what the man said you would say, my Lord, he urged me to give this note to you.” The butler extended his salver.

His curiosity aroused; Lord Jersey nodded to his son who retrieved the missive. The Viscount handed it to his father.

The Earl unfolded the note. It was not long.

My master plans to do great harm to your wife and through her to you and to your name.

“Send him in Smithington,” Lord Jersey barked.

“What did it say, Father?” Lord Westmore enquired. His father handed him the note.

Before the Viscount could say anything, the butler showed the man into the study.

“My Lords,” Wickham bowed to the two men.

“Tell me what this is about or be on your way, I have no time for Hertfordshire’s games,” Lord Jersey insisted.

“This is as serious as can be, my Lord,” Wickham assured the Earl. “You have no doubt heard whispers of the Duke’s predilection for imposing himself on married women, and in most cases forcing himself on them.”

“Yes, I have. It is one of the many reasons I and others tried to have him defanged,” Lord Jersey acknowledged.

“It is because you and the Duke of Bedford led that effort that he has marked your wife to be his next victim. He knows Lord Bedford is too powerful and well connected to attempt something, but he feels you…” Wickham related the Duke’s instructions to him to the Earl and his son.

By the time he was done with his telling, Lord Jersey had to restrain his son from seeking the Duke out that day and calling him out.

“Why are you turning on your master, and what do you expect from me? Some sort of reward?” the Earl questioned.

“I am doing this for the protection of the new Duchess,” Wickham averred simply. Seeing the disbelieving looks on the two men, he told them all how he had assisted the Duke to find the information which had forced his choice of wife to accept him. He related all up to, and including, the Duke’s plans for her once he had an heir. “I am not proud of what I have done in service of His Grace, but I will not stand by and allow him to harm Lady Elizabeth. She is someone who treats everyone with respect and cares about the welfare of her staff and servants, something the Duke knows not how to do. Furthermore, she is only seventeen years old.” Wickham paused. “I will not lie, I would like to leave England and have some money saved, so if you decided to offer me a reward, I would happily accept it, but it is not something I will demand.”

“What do you propose?” Lord Jersey enquired.

Wickham laid out what he wanted to tell the Duke about Easter Sunday. “If you agree, we will allow him to see you depart St. George’s—I will suggest we wait near your house, but he will want to see you at the church—with your children while the Countess makes for Jersey House on her own. You will go to the back of the house entering via the servants’ door. His Grace would never imagine a peer would enter his house via a door servants use.

“He must see Lady Jersey enter the house, but she will continue through the house and exit the way you and the Viscount enter and join her daughter in the coach. When the ‘ bribed’ footmen supposedly abandon the house, they too will go around to the back of the house as soon as they are able and can no longer be seen from the carriage in which we will travel. I will lead him to your bedchamber, given his desire to do his deed on your bed. He will be armed and as such, when one of your men shoot an armed intruder, it will be discovered after the fact he is a duke.”

“Father, I believe the plan Mr. Wickham proposes is sound and will work,” Lord Westmore opined.

“How do we know this is not a ruse?” Lord Jersey demanded.

“Do you have a trusted man?” Wickham asked.

“I do, why do you ask?” the Earl averred.

“Send him back with me,” Wickham urged. “I will place him in the servant’s corridor which runs next to the master’s study. There is a hole in the panelling to allow him to watch and listen. I will tell His Grace all is planned and suggest I need money with which to bribe your footmen. He will be able to report back to you on the veracity of my claims.”

The Earl had agreed to that. A few hours later his man returned and reported that which Mr. Wickham had told them was, unfortunately, accurate.

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

“It is your intention to seek your fortune in the former colonies, is it not?” Lord Jersey verified with Wickham.

The Earl was not a violent man, but he had felt nothing but pleasure when he had aimed his shot at the Duke and pulled the trigger. He had watched dispassionately as the ball hit its mark and the bastard fell over, dead even before he hit the floor.

“With the money I saved and the four thousand pounds the late duke contributed , I will be seeking passage to the Americas as soon as may be,” Wickham confirmed. “I ask only you allow me a little time to write two letters. One to Her Grace and the other to my father, and then I will leave your house.”

“In anticipation of your choice to depart for the colonies, I have arranged a first class passage on a Dennington Lines ship from Liverpool. You have a sennight to arrive and embark on time,” Lord Jersey told the surprised man. “And for the service you did my family, I have five thousand pounds in banknotes for you.” The Earl paused. “Try and live an honourable life from now on.”

Wickham was taken aback and a little choked up. He had not expected anything, but it was most welcome. Least of all he had not anticipated words of kindness from the Earl. He was shown to a room and sat at an escritoire to write his letters. The butler took them from him and was told he had been instructed to send them express.

With well over ten thousand pounds to his name, Wickham left Jersey House to begin his long journey to his new life. Another shock awaited him outside. The Earl had one of his spare coaches waiting to convey Wickham to Liverpool.

Once Wickham had departed, Lord Jersey sent for a doctor and the magistrate to report an unknown intruder had been shot in his house.