Chapter 23
Facing the prospect of another dreary day in a stuffy business office, Charles fortified himself with a hearty breakfast.
“Isn’t this cozy? All of us are together at Grosvenor with nary a mushroom in sight,” Caroline said with a contented smile.
Annoyed by his sister’s snide remark, Charles refused to let it pass. “Do you hope to secure a gentleman with that attitude?”
“What do you mean, Charles?”
“You’ve already lost any hope of securing Darcy with your petty comments. How can you suppose that a proper gentleman would want anything to do with such a harpy?”
Caroline narrowed her eyes. “If Mr Darcy prefers to consort with rustics like Eliza Bennet, he may do so with my fondest wishes.”
Appalled by this affront, Charles glared at his sister. “No, Caroline! You shall not disparage Miss Elizabeth,” he said, to which Caroline sniffed in dismissal, then flinched when Henry pounded his fist on the table.
“If you would like to continue living under my roof, you will mind your tongue.”
“Oh, Henry, how can you be so provincial?” Caroline said in a dismissive tone.
Henry rose to hover over Caroline. “Unless you want to live with your aunt in Blackburn, I’ll have none of your caustic remarks.”
Caroline stared in disbelief. “What’s come over you, Henry?”
Charles couldn’t help taunting his sister. “I’m certain Aunt Beatrice would love to introduce you to her friends in Lancashire. Uncle Cecil has lots of wealthy connections, you know,” he said with a careless grin.
“Henry is only bluffing, Charles,” she said with a smug grin. “He wouldn’t dare separate me from Louisa.”
“Wouldn’t I? I can make the arrangements today, if you like,” Henry said, to which Caroline glared in defiance. “I have endured your venom for the last time. You will conduct yourself as a proper young lady, or I’ll order your trunks to be packed and send you off to Blackburn.”
Charles had never been prouder of his indolent brother-in-law.
“There’s no need for threats, Henry,” Louisa said in a soothing voice.
Henry stood his ground. “You’ll find me as good as my word, Louisa, I assure you. I’ve reached my limit.”
“I advise you to heed our brother, Caroline, because you won’t be welcome at Netherfield either,” Charles said. “I’ve had my fill of your constant complaining and sniping.”
Caroline gritted her teeth, then shifted her focus to Henry and assumed a blank facade. “You may put your mind at ease, Henry. I shall be a model of restraint.”
“I should hope so,” Henry said as he resumed his seat. “I’m certain Miss Huntington taught you better.”
Charles raised his teacup to his host. “I salute you, Henry, and apologise for not checking our sister earlier.”
“I should have done so long before now, but I suppose we’ve both learned a lesson or two lately, haven’t we?” he said with a glimmer in his eye.
“Lord, yes. We’ve had a time of it.”
Caroline and Louisa exchanged curious gazes.
“You especially,” Henry added with a sideways glance at Caroline.
Charles cringed at the memory of his sister’s relentless attention at Netherfield this past fortnight. “But order has been restored at last.”
Henry’s shoulders quivered with silent laughter. “You’ll hear no argument from me.”
“What are you going on about, Henry?” Louisa inquired.
“Don’t trouble yourself over it, dearest,” Henry said, returning his full attention to his breakfast.
“Will you attend the assembly with us tonight, Charles?” Caroline inquired in a tranquil tone, as though she hadn’t just been threatened with eviction.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Charles was confident that Colonel Fitzwilliam would thoroughly enjoy the event.
***
Darcy broke his fast with Georgiana and Mrs Annesley as though that day were the same as any other. He listened attentively as his sister recited a long list of studies that she and her companion planned to pursue that day.
“I have a few business matters to attend to, but I’ll return in plenty of time to dine with you tonight,” he said, revealing no hint of the enormity of his errand.
Once the ladies had retired to the library, he called for his carriage and set out for the bank. Once he had secured the required draft, he then travelled to Surrey Street to collect Wickham.
When he gained entrance to the boarding house, a footman directed him to the dining room where he found George still at breakfast, wearing a brown coat and beige waistcoat. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” he said.
Knowing of Wickham’s tendency to bolt, Darcy had decided against sending a note to advise him of his pending arrival. “All the arrangements have been made. I’m here to take you to Whitehall.”
Wickham contemplated his steaming cup of coffee for an extended moment, then swallowed it down in a few gulps. He swiped two rolls from the sideboard and stuffed them into his coat pockets. “I’ll just need a few minutes to collect my things,” he said, then left the dining room.
Rather than leaving Wickham to his own devices, Darcy followed him up to his room. George neatly folded his red militia coat and tucked it into his knapsack, then added his shaving kit. “I’ll need someone to return this to Colonel Forster,” he said.
Darcy nodded. “Once you’re sworn in, a courier will see to that.”
After a final look around the empty room, they descended the stairs, and spoke to the proprietor one last time.
Since Darcy had already paid for the full week, no outstanding charges remained.
Outdoors, he whistled to his coachman who brought the carriage forward and waited for them to board.
Having already discussed today’s itinerary with the driver, they immediately set out for Whitehall.
They passed the time in silence for a short while, until Darcy recalled Wickham’s precipitous flight from Derbyshire. “Are there any outstanding debts of honour in Meryton that must be settled?” he inquired, knowing George had reneged on past commitments.
Wickham didn’t meet his eyes. “A few.”
“To merchants or militia comrades?”
“Both.”
Once again, Darcy cursed himself for failing to warn the neighbourhood about Wickham’s deceitful tendencies. “I trust they have your vowels,” he said, to which George nodded. “I’ll see to them.” He gritted his teeth, now knowing that another large expenditure awaited him in Hertfordshire.
“When you decide to sellout, your commission is contingent on your good behaviour, and may be forfeited if you cross the line.”
“I know how commissions work, thank you,” Wickham said in an irritated voice. “Besides, it’s the least you could do for me, knowing that your father meant to provide for me.”
Despite his resolve to control his temper, Darcy rose to anger.
“My revered father did provide for you, as he did for everyone under his care, including the poor and infirmed. He strove to conduct himself as a gentleman and would abhor your idleness and dissipation. If you ever cared for him, you would use this opportunity to follow his example.”
“You need not lecture me, Fitzwilliam.”
“No, indeed. It’s of no consequence to me if you choose to dishonour your father’s name, but you will not dishonour mine.”
Wickham’s eyes flared with anger, but he remained silent.
“Nor do I need to tell you that our connection is at an end. I’ve already paid out thousands on your behalf. If you find yourself at a stand again, you’ll be on your own.”
Wickham merely shrugged. “I always come about,” he said, then pulled a roll out of his pocket and bit into it.
“I’m certain you shall.”
They did not speak again.
Certainly, there was no need to say aloud what was painfully obvious.
A man’s honour was a fragile thing and could be lost in an instant.
If Wickham defaulted on his debts again, he would be ruined.
Darcy had previously covered George’s debts of honour in Derbyshire, and he would do the same in Meryton.
He couldn’t fathom how Wickham had managed to avoid being called out for his offences, but this luck couldn’t hold forever.
Or perhaps George was right, and he would come about. He might even meet his heiress someday.
Either way, Darcy would take no further responsibility for his former friend. He had only done so for his father’s sake, and he hoped his sire would agree that he had done everything that could possibly be done to preserve Wickham’s future.
When they arrived at Whitehall, they followed a young soldier to Richard’s office, where they also met Lieutenant Jenkins.
Despite the colonel’s disgust of his former friend, he politely greeted Wickham and introduced him to Jenkins.
He then escorted them down the stairs and through a long hallway to the regimental agent where Darcy purchased the commission.
Once this was accomplished and documented, they descended another staircase and traversed a maze of hallways to a large crowded office.
There Darcy watched Wickham swear his allegiance to the King.
“So help me God.”
Richard produced the militia resignation letter, which he explained to Wickham. Once it was signed, he passed it to Jenkins, who gestured to Wickham. “If you’ll come with me, Lieutenant Wickham, we’ll get your new uniform and kit.”
Before leaving, Wickham bowed in parting, and Darcy returned the gesture. Darcy shook hands with Jenkins, thanked him for his service, and watched the two men leave the room.
Richard escorted him out to the hall and clapped him on the back. “It’s done, Darcy. He’s in good hands, which is more than he deserves. If it were up to me, he’d be sitting in debtor’s prison.”
Although Darcy understood his cousin’s opinion, he’d hated witnessing his boyhood friend forced into an occupation not of his own choosing.
If Wickham had conducted himself properly and followed the path that George Darcy had set out for him, he might have had a long and fulfilling career in the church.
But he had fallen prey to vice, and could fault no one but himself for this outcome.