Chapter 13 #2
Forster bowed in return, which allowed him to conceal the envy in his expression.
He truly had no great desire to serve in the Regulars – seeing the corpse of George Wickham was quite enough gory bloodshed for his lifetime – but the First Royal regiment was most distinguished.
Fitzwilliam was probably well connected to have obtained a commission there.
“I am here over this unfortunate business of the late George Wickham, whom I understand was a lieutenant in your militia regiment here at Meryton.”
“Oh, yes, quite! A most dreadful affair!”
“Yes,” Fitzwilliam agreed with a grave shake of his head. “I fear Wickham’s untimely death is no surprise given the man’s despicable character, but it grieves me that my cousin Darcy was injured in the process.”
Colonel Forster’s mind did not move quickly, and thus it was a full minute before his brain caught up with the other man’s speech. For another ten seconds, he gaped in confusion, rather like a trout, before he sputtered out, “Your cousin?”
“Oh yes,” Fitzwilliam said casually, “Mr. Darcy, master of Pemberley, is my cousin. His mother, Lady Anne Darcy, was sister to my father, the Earl of Matlock.”
Forster gulped. He knew, vaguely, that Darcy was well connected along with being exceedingly wealthy, but he had not known that he had noble relations.
“Erm, uh, um, yes, that is,” he tried, before being mercifully interrupted.
“Yes, poor Darcy,” Richard continued, brushing a nonexistent speck from his white breeches.
“Wickham was his father’s godson, you know; the elder Mr. Wickham was steward of Pemberley for many years, and I remember him as a very fine man.
It is a pity that sons do not always follow in their fathers’ righteous paths, is it not? ”
“Certainly,” Forster agreed, rising to his feet in pursuit of a flask of whiskey. He felt he needed a drink. Silence fell while he found clean tumblers, poured drink into both, and handed one glass to his visitor.
He threw down a slug of whisky, repressed a cough, and bravely gazed into Fitzwilliam’s eyes. “To be entirely honest, Colonel, I find your suggestions to be both alarming and surprising. I found Lieutenant Wickham a most congenial gentleman.”
“I daresay you did,” the other man said drily.
“Wickham could be pleasant enough if he chose, but he was a gambler, a philanderer, and a slanderer. Indeed, I understand that before his death, he chose to blacken Darcy’s name regarding a church living in the village of Kympton near Pemberley.
He claimed that his godfather, Mr. George Darcy, recommended him for the living and that my cousin Darcy refused to give it to him. ”
Forster cringed and asked tentatively, “This accusation was not true?”
“Not at all,” Fitzwilliam declared, setting his glass down onto a nearby table with more force than necessary.
“Wickham informed my cousin that he did not wish to obtain orders, and at his request, was given three thousand pounds in exchange for signing away all rights to the living. He was also given an additional thousand pounds in his godfather’s will.
All that money was frittered away within a few years, and when the living fell vacant, he again applied for it.
Given Wickham’s penchant for carousing and debauchery, my cousin refused him firmly, and one can hardly blame him. ”
Forster, who was now feeling a little faint, lowered himself onto a nearby chair and stared in amazement at Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“That is … that is quite shocking, sir,” he finally croaked. “I confess that I … well, Lieutenant Wickham told me with his own lips of the misappropriated living, and I…”
“Believed him? I do not blame you, Colonel, I assure you. Wickham was always silver tongued, and my cousin Darcy is often rather remote and even brusque. But Darcy is in the right of their quarrel over the church in Kympton; he has the signed document in his possession wherein Wickham gave up all rights to the living.”
“I see,” Forster said, lifting up his hand to loosen his collar a little. “Well, that is, erm, most illuminating.”
“Good,” Fitzwilliam said, draining his glass and rolling gracefully to his feet. “We colonels must stick together, mustn’t we? I would not like for you to be unpleasantly surprised at the inquest regarding Wickham’s true character.”
Forster swallowed convulsively as he also stood up. “Thank you, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I am most grateful for your kindness in acquainting me with the truth of Lieutenant Wickham’s lack of integrity.”
***
“Jane, Elizabeth, Mr. Bennet!” Bingley enthused as he surged forward to greet the Bennets. “Good morning! I hope you are all well?”
Jane blushed as Bingley followed up his welcoming words with a fervent kiss on her gloved hands, but she managed to say cheerfully, “Indeed, we are very well, Charles. Very well indeed.”
The two lovers gazed at one another raptly for a moment until a soft chuckle from Mr. Bennet broke the tableau.
“Mr. Bennet,” Bingley said, clearing his throat hastily. “Thank you very much for coming here to Netherfield. With Darcy recovering, and Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam in residence, I was hesitant to go to Longbourn.”
“I assure you I was delighted when your message arrived early this morning requesting that we call on you here,” the older man assured him.
“Mrs. Bennet is rushing around the house with great energy as she prepares for the wedding breakfast, and the younger two girls are caught up in the frenzy. I believe we will have an easier time discussing business in your office.”
Bingley relaxed at these words and held out his arm to Jane, who took it shyly. “Will you all join me in the drawing room first? Darcy wishes you to meet his sister, Miss Darcy.”
“We would be honored,” Elizabeth said.