Chapter 4 - Alarm
Wickham
Wickham regarded his long standing adversary with interest. Even from a distance, he could discern that Darcy had not undergone significant changes, perhaps a touch leaner, but otherwise retaining the familiar appearance.
As Wickham looked on, Darcy exchanged words with Mrs. Reynolds, who, in her turn, issued directives to the footman stationed by the front.
The footman immediately ran inside. Darcy then proceeded toward a boy perched upon the front steps, tenderly caressed the boy’s head, before embarking on the sleigh.
Mrs. Reynolds lingered until her master had departed in the sleigh.
She then approached the boy, talked with him for a moment before making her way indoors.
The boy remained on the front steps, left to his own devices for the interim.
Wickham tried to make sense of what he had seen.
The sleighs had been used for multiple journeys today.
He even recognized Mr. Ashton, the old apothecary, departing with two other men on one of the sleighs.
Now, Darcy too departed, evidently embarking on a lengthy journey, judging by the manner in which Mrs. Reynolds's men filled the sleigh with hot bricks and blankets.
Most significantly, Wickham keenly observed the interactions between Darcy, Mrs. Reynolds, and the lone boy now situated on the front steps. It was clear that the boy held a special place in their hearts. This presented an opportunity that Wickham was unwilling to let pass.
So, Sophia is mistaken. Darcy is married and has a son.
Wickham approached the boy cautiously and knelt beside him. The boy was immediately on edge.
No, time for charm, not intimidation.
He summoned the most endearing smile he could muster, as endearing as possible considering his bald head and two prominent scars.
His efforts proved successful as the boy slowly relaxed and offered a reciprocal smile before resuming his play with a toy horse.
Wickham was surprised when the boy did not perform the expected bow, as he somehow anticipated Darcy's son would.
"Well, young sir, that is a beautiful pony you have in your hand. What is the name of your pony?"
The boy promptly placed his finger on his chin, as if he had never contemplated naming his toy before.
"It has no name. Does it need a name?" the boy asked.
"Certainly, everything has a name, does it not?
May I know what your name is?" Wickham inquired, although he could guess the boy's name without asking. The prevailing tradition among the Darcy family is to name their firstborn son with their mother’s family name.
So, Wickham expected the boy to say the name Bennet.
"I am George," the boy replied, completely confusing Wickham. George is the name of Darcy’s father, Wickham’s godfather.
This is surprising. Darcy is not one to deviate from such traditions. Could this be someone else’s child? He is dressed in expensive clothes, definitely not a servant’s son.
Wickham had to think. His intent was to remove everyone significant to Darcy.
To date, he had only encountered this lad and the lady from Hertfordshire.
He had even witnessed them in each other's company, with the boy freely associating with the Bennet woman.
Seven years had transpired since Wickham departed England, allowing ample time for Darcy to have fathered multiple offspring.
But, this boy appeared to be around five or six years old. How could Darcy have an older child than this boy? He wasn’t even married when I left England. Could there be a twin?
“George, what a beautiful name. And what if I tell you that my name is also George? My name is George William. May I know how old you are? I wish to know whether you are old enough to name a pony,” Wickham inquired.
“I am six years old. Can I name the pony, Mr. George William?” the boy asked.
“Yes, George, you can name the pony. Do you have brothers and sisters?” Wickham inquired further.
“Yes, I have a brother. His name is Sam. I have a sister too, she is so small and cute. Her name is Beth,” the boy replied.
Wickham was truly puzzled. I can't believe Darcy doesn't have a son named Bennet. Was Sophia right? Did Darcy really take that Bennet girl as a mistress? Do I need to risk asking anyone about the Darcy family?
No, that is unwise. No one else will visit here during these winter months. This has to be Darcy’s son. And I have him in my grasp.
The immediate task was to move the boy away from the main building, perhaps into the bushes behind the stable, where they would be less visible from the windows.
The challenge lay in transporting the child discreetly.
Wickham could easily cover the child's mouth and carry him to the stable.
But there was a clearing on the way that was visible from the main building.
If anyone observed the boy being carried away, inquiries would undoubtedly follow.
Just as Wickham pondered his next move, the boy unexpectedly provided a solution.
“This pony is in that stable. My mama said my papa will take me there to see the pony. I can name the pony when I see him,” the boy explained.
“Why don’t you walk to the stable? There isn’t much snow now, and you are well covered with your thick clothes.
I am going to walk to the stable now to see the pony.
I am not afraid of a little snow. If you want to see the pony, you just walk there.
Remember, walk slowly, lest you fall in the snow.
Do you know what will happen if you fall in the snow? ” Wickham inquired.
“Yes, my mama told me that if you fall in the snow, you will fall ill,” the boy replied.
“Are you a brave boy, George?” Wickham inquired further.
“Yes, I am a brave boy,” came the expected reply.
"Then, George, I am off to the stable to pay a visit to the pony.
Are you up for the challenge?" With that, Wickham pivoted and briskly made his way toward the stable through the expansive clearing.
He recognized the risk in this venture, having never positioned himself in such an exposed area near Pemberley since his return.
However, he harboured confidence that, from behind, no one would discern his identity.
Wrapped in a blanket, he was thoroughly concealed.
Even if someone happened to spot him, the assumption would likely be that he was a stable hand attending to the horses.
Wickham refrained from casting a glance backward to verify if the boy was trailing him. Something told him that the boy would make every effort to follow him.
Darcy
Darcy brought his sleigh to a halt at the crossroads, hoping this to be the final junction on his journey.
The expedition had been slow and wearisome, with slippery roads demanding utmost caution.
Nearly two and a half hours had passed since he set out.
He had also taken time to note various landmarks along the way—landmarks that were significant enough to remain visible despite the accumulating snow upon his return.
Normally, Darcy found Lambton, a place much closer to Pemberley, sufficient for most needs.
On occasion, they ventured as far as Bakewell or Ashford for necessities, but the path to Chesterfield was seldom traversed, leaving him with limited knowledge of the way.
He had received some vague directions from Mrs. Reynolds, gleaned from conversations with tenants, which thus far had proven trustworthy.
While he stood there, trying to remember Mrs. Reynolds' precise directions, he noticed a flickering light on the path to the right.
His instincts urged caution, for this was an uninhabited region.
Yet, something within him impelled him to take that direction, and he gently guided his horse to turn towards the mysterious glow.
The glow disappeared immediately from his vision, but he continued to travel in the direction it guided him.
He made sure to take note of various landmarks on the way, signposts for his return should he lose his way.
Thus, he journeyed for ten more minutes until he reached a clearing with six small houses.
In one of them, a fire burned, and a candle flickered from the inside.
Darcy promptly approached the gates of that house.
His progress was interrupted when a dog jumped at him from behind the gates, spooking his horse.
Darcy, with his impeccable riding skills, managed to avoid falling and calmed his steed.
The dog continued to bark fiercely. Its persistent barking alerted the owner, who promptly emerged to inquire about the disturbance.
It was then for the first time he came face to face with Mr. Archer, the medical practitioner he had been seeking.
This introduction resulted in a friendship that both cherished throughout their life.
Persuasion was unnecessary, as the gentleman readily agreed to travel with him to Pemberley.
Mr. Archer retrieved a sizable wooden case, much larger and heavier than the ordinary cases carried by medical practitioners, and settled onto the sleigh.
Unanticipated company joined them, when the hound decided to jump into the sleigh to occupy the space between the gentlemen.
Though Darcy quietly fretted about the added weight burdening the horses, he withheld his concerns and turned his sleigh towards Pemberley, praying fervently that they would reach their destination before it was too late.
Elizabeth
Elizabeth cast a surreptitious glance at her brother. Charles had awakened promptly after Mr. Darcy's departure and positioned himself by Jane's side. Gently holding Jane's hands, he closed his eyes, assuming a pose reminiscent of prayer.