Prologue Part 1 B #2
As comfortable as he was in his own circle of family and some close friends, and as well as he treated his father’s staff and servants at Darcy House in London or at Pemberley and the satellite estates, William was gaining a reputation of being rather arrogant and overly proud among others at school.
He did not realise that George’s words had found fertile ground in part because of William’s own attitude and behaviour.
In early October, after another tearful goodbye from his sister, who was now between four and five years old, William departed for Cambridge. Gigi’s reaction was the same each time he arrived or left home. The former engendered joy, while the latter caused a copious amount of tears.
On Friday, the tenth day of October, his studies commenced.
The hardest thing for William was having to be among many more with whom he was not acquainted.
The saving grace was the presence of Richard, who would be with him for two more years.
Neither he nor Richard had been at Eton or Cambridge at the same time as Andrew, Viscount Hilldale.
That was due to the latter being three years Richard’s senior.
By the time Richard began his first year at university, his brother was with a group of friends on their grand tour.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
November 1802
During the one term George had been at Eton and before transferring to Harrow, Darcy had tried to ignore the reports he was receiving from the schools about his godson’s behaviour. He had tried to ascribe it to ‘boys being boys’.
In his final year at Harrow, George had been accused of both theft and cheating.
There was no definitive proof in either case, only strong suspicions.
Thanks to the huge debt of gratitude, he felt he owed Lucas Wickham for saving his life, Darcy had not been willing to renege on his agreement to see George educated.
He had promised to send George to school, even though the steward had more than once said he needed no reward for doing what any man of good character would have done.
Now Darcy was looking at a letter from Oxford, informing him that his protégé, who was not yet eighteen, had meddled with a maid. Darcy sent for his steward.
Wickham had entered the study within the hour. “Mr Darcy, you sent for me?”
“Indeed. Please read this, and then we need to have a discussion regarding George,” Darcy stated as he handed over the epistle. He waited while his steward read the missive, his face darkening with anger the more he read.
“This was one of my fears when you insisted on giving George a gentleman’s education.
May I speak candidly?” Wickham requested.
He saw the master nod his head. “George was inculcated by his late mother to always expect more; to always look at what others have and want it as if it were his due, while at the same time not willing to work to gain that which he desires. In my opinion, it is not doing him any favours by rubbing shoulders with those so far above him in society. He is acquiring their habits and aping their behaviour without the income to afford the lifestyle he wants. I worry that my son feels himself entitled, like my late wife used to tell him he was.”
“Everyone, from my late wife on, has been telling me that I was blind when it came to your son. I always dismissed what I was told, but it seems that it was me who refused to see. I should not have interceded and stopped him being sent down from Harrow.” Darcy paused as he cogitated.
“It is unfair to retract all of my support at once. When he is at Pemberley for the Christmastide break, we will speak to him. From my side, I will tell him that if there is one more negative report from Oxford, then he will lose my patronage. I had thought to recommend him for the church and one of the livings in my advowson. With that wish, there is a small bequest for him in my will. I will have a new one drafted without the bequest or recommendation.” He looked at Wickham again.
“You must know that whatever I can do to assist you, I will, and that was before you saved my life.”
“As I told you, Mr Darcy, you owe me no debt for that.” Wickham stood, bowed to his employer and left the study.
Darcy pulled a sheet of paper from the pile in the corner of his desk.
He lifted his eyes to the heavens. “Anne, my one and only love, I hope you approve that I am about to write my first letter to William that I will leave with the ones you wrote for both our children. I know you are aware of this, but you, and all the others, were correct about George Wickham. I am sorry it took me so long to see it.” From time to time, when he was assured of his privacy, Darcy would speak to his wife aloud.
First, he sent a note to his local solicitor to attend him on the morrow; next, Darcy wrote the letter to his son.
The following day, Mr Kincaid, Darcy’s local solicitor, arrived as requested. He sat with his client and made a list of all of the changes Mr Darcy wanted made to his will. Kincaid left an hour later after promising the amended will would be ready for signature two days hence.
The solicitor did not disappoint. He arrived at the appointed time with the promised number of documents.
He was accompanied by his clerk and the magistrate, Sir Horace Fralin.
Present with Darcy was Matlock. With the three men—the earl, the magistrate, and the solicitor—signing as witnesses, it left no room for anyone to challenge the will on the grounds that it was not genuine or properly executed.
Once all copies were signed and the signatures sanded and dried, Kincaid retained one copy, one was handed to Matlock, another was placed in Darcy’s safe, one was posted to Darcy’s London solicitor, and another was sent to Darcy House, which Darcy would lock in the safe in his study at that house the next time he was in London.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
After his first term at Oxford, George Wickham departed the university—in a rented carriage—on Tuesday the fourteenth day of December. By Thursday evening, he was at his father’s cottage at his godfather’s estate.
“Welcome home, George,” Wickham stated. “Do not make plans for the morrow; you and I are to go see Mr Darcy.”
George was concerned that the misunderstanding with the maid had been reported to his godfather.
He was somewhat nervous, but he knew that he could not cry off the meeting without Mr Darcy being upset with him.
“I have no plans for the morrow, so it will be a pleasure to see my godfather,” George stated with an air of false confidence while he felt rather nervous about seeing Mr Darcy.
Try as George might to wheedle information about the subject of the meeting from his father, the latter did not relate anything. Father either did not know or he would not say anything.
By the next morning, George had convinced himself he had nothing about which to be concerned.
Mr Darcy always believed him, so this time would be no different.
As he walked, he prepared what he would say and how he would deflect any blame from himself.
He had been successful in redirecting Mr Darcy’s attention in the past, so he would do so again now.
Once the two Wickham men were admitted to the study, the younger one did not feel quite as confident. His godfather looked rather stern. George was about to greet Mr Darcy and distract him right away. Before he could, he and Father were told to sit.
“George, have I not told you, like I told William and my nephews, that it is never acceptable to importune those who serve us here?” Darcy began.
“You have, Godfather. I have never done so here at Pemberley,” George responded.
“Just because it was not here does not excuse your actions,” Darcy bit out.
“The maid lied.” George put on his best ill-used look.
“There were witnesses! Did they all prevaricate?” Darcy demanded. “Tell me, George, how is it that when it comes to you everyone else lies, and you are the only truthful one?”
“But she was only a maid,” George spat out. He was flustered as this was not going the way he hoped it would.
“That is exactly the attitude I abhor, so we will make some changes.” Darcy looked at George with his eyes open as if seeing him for the first time.
“As your late mother manipulated me into becoming your godfather, I withdraw from that role. I will not withdraw my patronage for your studies now, but you have one chance, and one chance only.” Darcy held up his hand seeing that George was about to try and charm him.
“I am immune to that now. Just listen. Fall behind in your studies; miss too many classes; or do anything dishonourable, which includes meddling with any females, and I will withdraw my assistance for you to study.
“If you avail yourself of the opportunity, one very few sons of stewards are offered, then you will be able to make something of your life. Before you attempt it, this is not open for negotiation. Your father and I are in agreement on this.” Darcy sat back in his chair.
“Do you understand that there will be no more chances if you lose this one?”
George shot his sire a look of anger that he had betrayed him. He did not speak; rather, he gave his godf… Mr Darcy a tight nod. “I am sure William turned you against me. He is jealous of me.”
“Firstly, William is completely unaware of any of this. Secondly, why would my son, heir to all the Darcy holdings, be jealous of you? I would wager that you know that is not a true statement.” Darcy paused again.
“George, if I were you, I would not try to blame anyone except yourself. You do not want to lose your final chance now, do you?”
When Mr Darcy dismissed the two Wickham men, one was fuming and the other was worried about the direction of his son’s life.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The final day of the first term of Cambridge’s academic year was on Thursday the sixteenth day of December.
William and his older cousin Richard shared a coach and departed at dawn the next day.
The latter was in his final year and the former in his second year.
Late in the afternoon on Saturday, they reached Snowhaven.
Due to the early onset of darkness at that time of the year, William spent the night and the Sabbath at his relatives’ home and departed after he joined his aunt, uncle, and Richard to break his fast in the morning on Monday.
It took less than an hour to reach Pemberley. William felt a sense of peace come over him as soon as the conveyance passed Pemberley’s gateposts. Although he was eighteen, he had not entered London society yet, seeing that he had not been to Town since his birthday in July.
However, that had not stopped some of those he was acquainted with at university from asking if he would like to meet their sisters.
It was well known that the value of the Darcy holdings placed them among some of the wealthier peers, even though there was no Darcy title.
One had been offered many times over the years, but the reply, including the current master’s, had always been a polite ‘no, thank you’.
The Darcys were gentlemen farmers and did not aspire to be more than that.
Because of marriage minded women hunting him by proxy even before he officially entered society, William began to perfect his mask of disdain, which he hoped would send those importuning him away. He would have to refine his mask before the huntresses of the Ton descended upon him.
Father had told him that ladies had thrown themselves at him after he came out of mourning and rejoined London society.
One woman had gone as far as to cry ‘compromise’.
Father had refused to gratify her, telling her that if she spread the story to pressure him, all she would achieve would be her own ruin.
It was after that time in London that Father had told William he would not think less of him for not gratifying an entrapment.
Soon enough, William was handing his outerwear to Mr Reynolds and catching a little blur of blonde ringlets as his sister threw herself into his arms. She had begged Nurse to bring her to wait near the door from the internal courtyard so she would see him as soon as he entered the house.
With Gigi firmly attached to his hand, William made his way up to see Father.
Darcy was very pleased to have his son home. With the Christmastide season upon them and the felicity he enjoyed with his son and daughter, he did not mention the unpleasant conversation he had with George Wickham two days past.