Chapter 6 #2
A fortnight later, a utilitarian structure had been built and made waterproof with canvas from the mainsail.
The men had hauled a good supply of wood up to the summit of the hill, where a rotating watch was set to keep an eye out for a ship.
It did not take long for the social distinctions that would have separated them in England to be all but forgotten.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Lord William Darcy, Duke of Derbyshire and Earl of Lambton, walked his friend to the carriage that would bear him back to his unit as his three months of deep mourning were at an end.
A month into their shared mourning period, Darcy had given Wickham a cottage for his own use, where the contents from his father’s house had been placed.
The commanding Colonel of Dragoons had approved his extended leave without a thought.
Richard Fitzwilliam had recently been promoted to major and made company commander. George Wickham was keen to return, as he would be a platoon officer in his friend’s company. The fact they would be shipped to the Iberian Peninsula in January of 1806 was not lost on the Duke.
Even though there had been no major battles with the French Imperial Army since the declaration of war in 1803, the young Duke was sure it would only be a matter of time. He respected his cousin and friend for their commitment to their duty, but he could not help but worry for their safety.
At the reading of his father’s will, there were no big surprises for him.
Neither Wickham nor Richard had anticipated the legacies that were left to them--fifteen thousand to the former and fifty thousand to the latter.
Both elected to invest their money, and there had not been a moment’s thought about selling out or resigning from the army.
Richard had been made co-guardian of Lord William’s young sister.
Georgiana missed her beloved father terribly, as he was the only parent she ever knew.
Miss Younge had been a godsend in helping Gigi though the grief her young mind could hardly comprehend.
At four and twenty, the new Duke was not ready to think about a wife yet, but he was now brother, father, and mother to a sister more than twelve years his junior.
“Godspeed, George,” Lord William clapped his friend on the back as they stood in the enclosed courtyard.
“Must you depart?” Lady Georgiana asked plaintively. Wickham had been almost like another brother to her since her father’s tragic end.
“I must, Gigi, I have my duty, and it is especially important to me to fulfil it. Just like your duty is to look after William now,” Wickham winked at the young girl.
“Well, in that case, I will take care of William for you,” she answered, seriously. The adults around her did their best to keep straight faces.
With a last shake of his friend’s hand and a light kiss on the top of the girl’s head, Wickham mounted the conveyance and was soon off. Brother and sister watched until the vehicle made a turn out of the courtyard onto the main drive and was gone from view.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
By the time 1805 drew to a close, Bingley had managed to gamble and whore away more than half of his legacy. Luckily for him, he realised at that pace he would burn through his money before the end of the approaching year.
His mother was not an option as her allowance and his sisters’ allowances were a pittance thanks to his tight-fisted stepfather.
As much as he had a selfish disdain for the feelings of others, he well knew the penalty of showing up at Longbourn to see his mother and sisters, and worse, still—he could hear Gardiner’s threats in his ear of what would happen to him if he had any contact with Bennet’s family again.
He left London in the direction of Kent and Surrey. He had briefly considered asking Mr. Gardiner for work, but he knew there was no chance the man would hire him, even were he capable of any work which would be tasked to him.
When he considered what occupation would have a reasonable return for the minimum of work, he realised that he would need to take orders.
He had completed his degree with no distinction, passing only by the kindness of his professors, as he had been too interested in extra-curricular activities at Oxford.
He found a small seminary not far from Hunsford in Kent where, for fifty pounds, the head of the school was willing to cut the time needed to take orders from twelve months to six months.
So it was that in mid-1806, when Lady Catherine de Bourgh was seeking a man for the living Rosings Park had within its gift, for another fifty pounds the head of the school sent the great lady one name: Mr. Charles Bingley.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
As they approached the one-year mark of the date the family should have returned from their long voyage, there had been no improvement in Thomas Bennet. As he no longer countermanded his wife’s orders, she slowly but surely began to fulfil parts of the role of mistress, as best she knew how.
Worried more about her father than what the woman was up to in the house, Elizabeth did not challenge her. Martha was not able to hire or fire staff, but she had started to redirect some of the maids from their normal duties to be personal servants to her and her daughters.
The maid who was lucky enough to serve Louisa could breathe easier as the older Bingley daughter was infinitely more pleasant and respectful than the other two harpies.
The friendship between Elizabeth, Charlotte, and Louisa had continued to flourish, even if Elizabeth had less time to be a carefree young lady as she had to keep Longbourn running.
Luckily for Elizabeth, her stepmother did nothing overtly against her.
As mean of understanding as Martha Bennet was, she knew the reason the estate was running efficiently was because of her stepdaughter.
While she and her youngest daughter often made comments about how unladylike all her activities were, they did nothing to interfere with her tasks.
As long as her husband, who she hated with a passion, stayed alive, and his daughter ran the estate, she and her daughters would not be turned out into the hedgerows by the heir, whoever the mysterious man was.
Over the years she had asked about the heir, but she received no answers to her enquiries.
Elizabeth could have put a stop to Mrs. Bennet’s encroachment regarding the duties of mistress, but she had so much to worry about with her father and keeping the estate running, it was a fight that she decided to defer.
Her father’s equanimity, such as it was, was more important to her than reining in her stepmother and her youngest spawn.
Her father used to gift Elizabeth books they would read together. The last one before he had withdrawn had been Utopia by Sir Thomas Moore, which she reread many times over. It became a treasure that represented how her father used to be.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Thomas Bennet was aware of his monumental failure to protect his family.
One day he sat cataloguing his failures as he saw them: He had allowed his damned honour to rule and marry a woman he should never have married.
That had led to him leaving Tommy permanently with his cousins.
Bringing that woman into his house had brought her lecherous son into his household as well, which had led to Jane staying with his cousins.
He still had one child left; he knew that, but he could not overcome his feelings of guilt as his mistakes had cost the lives of two of his beloved Fanny’s children.
As much as he had always loved spending time with Lizzy—reading with her, debating what they had read—each time he saw his beloved daughter, it was a stark reminder of his perceived failures.
A few days after the one-year anniversary of the date the ship should have returned to England, the day he had again listed all his perceived failures, and after having been drinking all day, in the afternoon, Bennet ordered Orion saddled.
The groom had hesitated before saddling the stallion as his master was clearly foxed, but in the end, he had done as he had been bade, for the master was in no mood to listen to anything the groom said.
Bennet rode out of the area around the stables much faster than normal and tore across a field.
Being in his cups, he was not seated as he should have been and was not holding the reins as tightly as needed.
Orion jumped a small culvert, something horse and rider had done many times before.
This time, however, with his state of inebriation, Bennet slid off the speeding horse and hit the ground with a tremendous force that snapped his neck.
In an instant, Thomas Bennet was no more.
When Orion returned riderless to the stables, the grooms mounted an immediate search, and an hour later one of them found the cold and lifeless of the late master.