Chapter 17. George Darcy’s Legacy
Word spread quickly in Lambton and Kympton of the illness of the Master of Pemberley.
The tenants went about their tasks with their usual industriousness–farmers could not pause to worry or mourn with crops in the fields.
The vicar in Lambton spent extra minutes in his prayers for Mr Darcy and his family in addition to the prayers he offered for Kympton.
That parish was in disarray with the parson barely tolerated in the streets.
‘And that misfortune lies at Mr George Darcy’s feet as well,’ the vicar realized.
The archbishop of York intervened at the request of the bishop as well as the vicars in Lambton, Derby and Nottingham–the scandal reached that far–to remove George Wickham from the pulpit in Kympton.
The man was a scoundrel who tarnished the entire church.
More than one tongue wagged that week wondering how soon the master would pass away and the fallen woman with her natural child in residence in the great house would be sent packing.
Mr Darcy’s mistress put herself forward greatly and offended a great many neighbours, but few houses dared to bar entry by George Darcy and his kept woman.
The man controlled much of the wealth thereabout and all of the political power.
There were four pocket boroughs in his control and the various members of Parliament in the area remained in company with their patron.
The lords and other landowners cared little for Mr Darcy’s indiscretions; they bore the company of his mistress though their wives refused to come to tea.
The prime minister had even taken dinner at Darcy House in London with the woman in company though not at the head of the table.
“Will the young master arrive in time? Will that woman make off with the riches of Pemberley?” asked many townsfolk in whispers to their neighbours.
“How many wagons will she fill with furniture when she departs?” asked the servants of the great house.
And the farmers asked with worry in their voices, “What of her child? Will Mr Darcy disinherit his son for his bastard?”
No one expected the young master to arrive in Derbyshire before Monday and so when he rode through Lambton on Saturday afternoon with only his valet as company, few people noticed.
In the park the riders passed the carriage carrying the doctor returning to check on Mr Darcy and thus William arrived at his father’s door before six of the clock on Saturday afternoon.
He banged on the door for a full two minutes before mounting his horse once again and riding around to the stables where he found stable boys. Leaving the horses in their hands, he threw a saddlebag over his shoulder and entered Pemberley through the kitchens.
“Master Fitzwilliam!” greeted the cook who recognized the young man and his valet.
“Where is my father?” he asked Mrs Reynolds when the housekeeper came out of her office, greatly surprised to have the young man home this quickly.
“He is in the green room sir,” Mrs Reynolds said. “If you will follow me, I shall take you there. Would you care to...”
“No. I shall see my father first,” William said.
He glanced at his valet and said, “Harris, refresh yourself. We shall dine in my rooms tonight and see about clothing tomorrow.”
“I shall have a bath prepared for you before supper, sir,” Harris insisted.
Nodding once, William followed the housekeeper. Once they were on the stairs with none of the servants about, he asked, “Tell me how he fares.”
“It is only a matter of time, Master William. I believe he waits to see you once again before letting himself go.”
William slowed his steps slightly. “My sister will arrive Monday. I hope my father remains long enough to bid her farewell.”
At the top of the stairs, William was met by a woman richly dressed in the latest London styles.
“Mrs Reynolds,” the woman asked. “Who is this ruffian you have admitted to Pemberley?”
Realizing this must be his father’s mistress; the young man stepped forward and announced himself, “I am Fitzwilliam Darcy come to see my father. Who are you to be so free in the halls of my father?”
The woman blushed but replied, “I am a good friend of your father’s, Mrs Murray.”
“I understood you to have a house in Lambton, Mrs Murray,” William said as he came to the top of the stairs.
“Mr Darcy has invited me to be here in the house these many months with my son.”
Darcy’s mouth twisted for a moment only before he replied. “As this house is dealing with illness, I am certain you and your son will be happier at your own home. A carriage will be called for your safe transport this afternoon.”
“My maid cannot pack my things so quickly,” Mrs Murray replied. “And Mr Darcy has sent for his solicitors. I shall not leave this house before...”
William stepped closer and spoke quietly. “Do not attempt to threaten me madam. You have one hour to leave this house with your dignity intact. Longer than a single hour and you will find yourself pushed from the front door with a walk of five miles to Lambton.”
There was silence at the top of the stairs for a moment before William repeated, “One hour.”
“Now see here...” the woman began to say.
At just that moment, the physician came up the stairs with his bag of medicines and began talking to William. “Master William, I am glad you have come. There is not much time remaining, and Mr Darcy has asked for you several times. Allow me to take you to your father sir.”
“Thank you,” William told the physician.
He turned to Mrs Reynolds and said, “If you will order a carriage and see to that Mrs Murray is escorted to the door in one hour.”
“But what of the solicitors?” asked Mrs Murray.
William turned around and said, “Madam, I am a gentleman. My father’s wishes will be fulfilled once he makes them known to me.”
“My boy will not be...” Mrs Murray insisted in a stern whisper as Mrs Reynolds took the woman’s arm and urged her to follow Master William’s directions.
“Forgive the unpleasant scene,” William said to the physician who simply shook his head.
“Illness in families creates problems, Master William. I am certain the lady is distressed–she stands to lose everything with the passing of your father.”
“I understand sir. My father will make some settlement for her in his will and as I told her, I shall see my father’s wishes fulfilled.”
In the green room, George Darcy was asleep when William entered but the movements in the room by the physician and Mr Darcy’s valet were enough to rouse the master. He looked about and blinked, finding his son.
“William! Is it Monday already?”
“No Father, I have arrived on Saturday!”
“That must be a good stable you keep in Hertfordshire,” the man replied. “I am pleased to find you here.”
“Mrs Reynolds sent word that you required my presence, Father. I came with all speed.”
“And your sister? When does she arrive?”
“She comes in the company of trusted friends and will be here Monday if they travel tomorrow.”
“Travelling on Sunday? Lady Catherine will have strong objections when she hears such news. Perhaps she will die with apoplexy?” the bed-ridden man sighed.
“It doesn’t signify; I shall be gone before that glorious day,” George Darcy said plainly.
He closed his eyes for a moment but then rallied and asked his valet, “Have the solicitors come?”
“They wait in the library, sir.”
“Bring them then; Fitzwilliam is here, and we can be done with these matters before sunset.”
“Mr Darcy, I would not have you strain yourself,” the physician said.
But his patient snorted and replied, “I have only a few hours left. What difference does some effort now make?”
He looked up hopefully, “Might I have a thimble of brandy?’
The physician nodded. “Perhaps even two thimbles, but only if you agree to try some broth as well.”
“Only chicken broth,” George Darcy commanded. “Never could stand the taste of beef broth when I was a child.”
“I spoke to Mrs Reynolds earlier,” the physician assured his patient. “She sent a man to the poultry house with a hatchet before I could complete the request. I heard her tell the man to bring the cook the fattest hen.”
William smiled imagining the scene in the kitchens while the physician poured a thimble of brandy and handed it to Mr Darcy with the instruction, “Slowly sir! I insist you sip it!”
“Very well,” agreed George Darcy as the door opened and his valet escorted the two attorneys, Mr Campbell and Mr Tolliver, into the room.
“And who do we have as witnesses?” Mr Campbell asked.
“My valet and physician,” Mr Darcy answered from his bed. “My son shall know all my wishes, but he will not sign the will.”
“Master William,” Mr Campbell nodded his head in acknowledgement of the young man.
“We have prepared the new will to your specifications, Mr Darcy,” the second solicitor said as he offered the document to the man and a copy to his son to read.
George waved the document away. “My heir will review the documents and approve them.”
William and the two solicitors stepped to a table near a window with several candles adding to the natural light. Following the statements of identification at the beginning of the document, William found the primary settlements.
**++**
The total of my lands, businesses, stocks, properties, houses, furnishings, monies, rents, and kine are left to my son, Fitzwilliam Henry Edward Darcy with the conditions that he never marry either daughter of the Earl of Matlock or the daughter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh and that he honours the following bequests.
**++**
William’s face remained frozen as he read his father’s bequests.
**++**