Chapter 3 #2
“How could you attempt such a thing with my niece?” an angry Gardiner demanded, as he supported his weight on his fists, leaning forward towards the cowering young man. “If your father were alive, he would have disowned you!”
“It was just a silly prank,” the younger man tried to prevaricate.
“And is that why my niece bit your hand and put her knee in your ballocks? Is part of a prank trying to strike the object of the prank when it is a young lady?” He raised his hand to stay the next lie before it was uttered.
“If you ever go near any of my family again, I will make you disappear. I know many men of varied backgrounds, so believe me when I tell you that no one will find your miserable body. Take your money and get out but remember my warning well. It is not a jest!” Gardiner stated dispassionately.
Charles Bingley felt a cold shiver traverse his spine.
He could read in Mr. Gardiner’s eyes that this was no idle threat.
He would have to rethink his desire for revenge, because it was not worth losing his life over.
Thus, for the first time in his life, he began to question his mother’s way of doing things.
An hour later, he was on the stage headed north.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
George Wickham stood in the Duke’s study, much as he had some six years previously, and, like before, his father and Lord William were present.
Lord Robert Darcy was impressed at the way that the young man had turned his life around.
Since the last time they had met in the study, there had not been a harder worker than George Wickham when he was presented with a task.
At times he would even take the initiative to perform tasks he saw in need of completion rather than attempt to pawn it off on another!
The best part was that it was not for show.
The younger Wickham had been observed in candid moments when he was unaware he was being watched and his behaviour was never found wanting.
Even though their stations were enormously far apart, a true friendship developed between the heir to Pemberley and the steward’s son.
George had also been accepted into Darcy’s circle of friends, which included Andrew and Richard Fitzwilliam, as well as a few others.
“I have been most pleased by the way you have changed direction since the last time we met in my study some years ago. What have you learnt from your endeavours, George?” the Duke asked kindly.
“I thank you for your encouraging words, your Grace,” young Wickham gave a half bow.
“There are two main things that I have seen, your Grace. Firstly the only way to make true friends is to be honest to a fault and be willing to give as much, sometimes even more, than one is apt to take or receive. Secondly, when I work for something, apply myself, and especially when I help others, there is a fulfilment I would never experience when I tried to gain what I did not deserve by trickery and prevarication,” young Wickham stated evenly.
It had been hard, extremely hard, for the younger Wickham in the beginning.
He had railed against the unfairness of his situation, telling himself he would get his due!
His late mother had always told him that he should aspire to attain more and with all the Darcys possessed, they would not feel it to give him a small fortune to set him up in life.
But Mrs. Henrietta Wickham had been an envious and avaricious woman who was never happy with her lot.
Then young George had started to observe those around him—his father, the tenants, and even the servants—each seemingly had a contentment in them which he could only dream of attaining.
He had started to talk to his father, and the more they spoke, the more he realised his mother was wrong and she had started to direct him down a path that would only lead to his ruination, or worse.
George Wickham started to address faults in his own character and make the changes his father suggested, starting with a few smaller steps.
Not a few times did he reflect on the fact that, had he stayed on his previous path, he would have ended up a libertine living a life of debauchery and dissipation.
The Duke had been right, as much as he had doubted such in the beginning now George had no cause to believe otherwise.
He was never more grateful for the Duke’s calling him on the carpet to disabuse him of his notions six years previous.
It had been the shock he had needed to seek his father’s help and become the young man he was today.
“You are the one who has made the effort to change, and we,” the Duke indicated his son and the steward, “are all impressed with who you are now.” Lord Robert paused. “Have you thought about what you would like to do for a profession?”
“As you know, your Grace, my esteemed father made sure I was educated; that was another thing I learned—the value of education. Without a university education, however, I find my choices limited to a trade, for I will not allow my father to use his hard-earned savings to send me to university,” young Wickham responded firmly.
“Your feelings do you credit, young man, but indulge me for a moment! If you had a university education, what would you do with your life?” Lord Robert probed.
“I know myself well enough to know I am not suited to be a clergyman, so I could read the law and then follow my father into his profession of stewardship. But if I am honest, my first love is the army. I have been speaking to your nephew, Richard, who has just completed university. Lord Matlock has purchased for him a lieutenant’s commission in the Royal Dragoons.
That would be my first choice, your Grace.
” George Wickham had a glint in his eye when he spoke about the army, the sight of it proving that his words were not idle talk.
“You would go into the regulars where you can be sent into battle and risk the chance of not surviving? Why not the militia?” the Duke pushed.
“As much as I respect militia officers, I find I would prefer to serve King and country in a more active way,” young Wickham insisted.
“It is my intention to gift you a university education at Oxford,” the Duke held up his hand to stay the protest he saw forming on the young man’s lips.
“It is exactly the reason you deserve this; you did not change for gain or reward. This is my choice because I feel you deserve it. Apply yourself, keep your nose to the grindstone, do well in your studies, and keep away from gambling and cavorting with women. When you graduate, you will receive a lieutenant’s commission in the Dragoons, just like Richard has. ”
“Just thank my father,” Lord William grinned, “for you well know how obstinate we Darcys are when we make a decision.”
“I thank you from the bottom of my heart, your Grace,” George bowed to his benefactor.
“Papa, I missed you,” little Gigi, just seven, in a blur of blond ringlets and light blue skirts, launched herself into her father’s arms.
“My apologies, your Grace.” The governess, Miss Karen Younge, curtsied, looking chagrined at having lost control of her charge. “Lady Georgiana took off before I could catch up to her,” the out-of-breath and harried woman explained.
“It is fine, Miss Younge. I know my daughter’s propensity to run at times.
I will send her back to you after she has had some time with her old Papa.
” After he dismissed the governess, he looked to the Wickhams. “Unless there is something else from either of you?” Both bowed and left the family in the study.
A half hour later, Lord William took his little sister by the hand and led her back to her waiting governess.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Lady Catherine de Bourgh was at her wit’s end.
She had been writing to her brother-in-law, who, by all rights, should have been her husband, for years with no response.
Not only was there never an answer, but all invitations to Pemberley, Darcy House, Derbyshire House, or any of his other properties had ceased more than five years previously.
Worse, no invitations to Rosings Park were answered. Her sickly daughter was sixteen; in but nine years Rosings would become hers, and Lady Catherine could not allow that! She refused to be relegated to the dower house.
Being denied and worse, ignored, was not something that sat well with Lady Catherine, who believed she could shape events with just the force of her will.
She did not know how yet, but, with her brilliant mind, she was sure she would come up with a solution soon enough.
She just had to get Anne into her cousin’s company so she could engineer a compromise that would be more successful than the one she attempted on Lord Robert Darcy.
For Anne’s part, she too despaired. It seemed the betrothal her mother kept going on about might not be a fact, and if it were not how would she escape the bonds of her mother’s strictures?
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
After a most enjoyable summer at Holder Heights, Bennet was not happy to return to that woman and her daughters. At least the insipid, lecherous son would no longer darken his property.
He had hardly crossed the threshold when his termagant of a wife started pleading her son’s case, begging for Bennet to relent and give her ‘dear Charles’ another chance. After about five minutes of her whining, Bennet had had enough.
“Do you remember what I told you would happen to you and your daughters if your son sets foot on my lands again?” he asked with asperity.
“You meant that? Surely you jested,” Martha hoped.
“NO madam! It was no jest. You should know my will was changed. If I should die and if your son arrives on my property before my heir takes possession of the estate, you and your daughters will be evicted. It will be my heir’s decision what happens after taking over the estate.
” Seeing she was about to protest, he held up his hand.
“I tire of this subject; not another word, madam!”
Mrs. Bennet got a pinched look, one that her younger daughter had perfected as well, and left the master’s study in a huff. She had made a serious misjudgement, for this had not been the gentleman to compromise!