Chapter 4 #3
As soon as they moved, Mrs Bingley shunned their friends and family in trade and could not understand why her new neighbours did not welcome her and her family with open arms. Her husband had four thousand a year after all, so they were not deficient in wealth.
Unfortunately, Martha Bingley did not understand that wealth was only one small part of being accepted, and she passed her belief onto her daughters that wealth was the key to everything.
The middle child and son, Charles, was a personable young man who his father was thankful did not take on the airs that his mother and sisters had begun to affect.
He did not like confrontation and preferred it when everyone was in harmony.
Being as busy as he was, Mrs Bingley had free rein to drum her misguided beliefs into her daughter’s head, including her belief that the only way forward for the Bingley family was to leave their roots in trade behind.
It was not long before she was harping about the need to purchase an estate.
Her husband did not bother to tell her that although they were well off, he was years away from having the necessary capital to purchase an estate.
He told himself that at some point in the future that he would look into leasing an estate.
His wife convinced him that when Charles was of an age to go to school that he must have a gentleman’s education and that their two daughters must go to an exclusive London seminary frequented by the daughters of the first circle so that Louisa and Caroline would learn to behave in a way that would be acceptable to the members of the Ton.
She made sure that both of her daughters knew that only a landed gentleman would do for a husband, the richer the better, and hopefully from the first circles.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
It was one of the first days that Lizzy was allowed to ride Fairy out of the training circle in Pemberley’s stables.
She had both of her brothers and cousins Will and Anne for companions.
In addition, they were followed by a groom and the footman Johns.
As they passed the boundaries of the park, George Wickham rode up on a cob that his father kept.
For a little while he rode parallel to them and did not attempt to speak to any of the family members.
After a while, he felt that no one was paying him particular attention so drew his mount close to Lady Elizabeth’s pony.
“Just you wait, you brat foundling,” he threatened in what he considered a soft voice.
What he had not noticed was that Andrew and Richard had drawn closer to him as soon as he approached their sister.
In the next instant a fist planted in his face, and he was lying flat on his back after he hit the hard ground with enough force to knock the wind out of his lungs.
He wailed as blood flowed from his nose.
The two Fitzwilliam brothers stood over the snivelling boy.
An approving Johns had ridden on with his charge, Master William, Miss de Bourgh, and the groom.
Once he had his wailing under control, Wickham spat out.
“What was that for? Just wait until I tell my godfather; he will whip you for hurting me!” young Wickham stated with all the bravado he could muster.
“I look forward to someone getting whipped, but I am afraid it will not be us, Georgie,” Richard said as he advanced threateningly toward the bleeding coward who cringed before him. “We heard what you said to our sister!”
“T-that was a-a j-joke,” Wickham stammered as he tried to prevaricate.
“If you ever come near my sister again, it will be a lot more than one face planter,” Andrew said menacingly. “That I can promise you!”
“How can you call that mongrel…” Wickham never finished what he was about to say, as Richard sent his fist into George’s stomach at full force. Wickham fell to the ground doubled over in pain and gasping for air.
“This is the first and last warning that you will receive, Georgie,” Andrew warned as the brothers mounted their horses then spurred them into a gallop to catch up with the rest.
Later that afternoon, Mr Wickham told his son to follow him as he led the boy of almost ten years to the master’s study.
Young Wickham was thinking of the ways that he would spin the encounter and lay the blame on the Fitzwilliam brats.
His confidence evaporated when the door to the study closed and he saw a terribly angry looking earl next to Mr Darcy, with both Fitzwilliam brothers and the prig William waiting for him.
Before he could formulate a new lie Mr Darcy spoke.
“You will no longer be welcome at the great house or anywhere in the park.” He shot the boy a warning look when he saw that young Wickham wanted to interject.
“Your opinion of my niece, while wrong, is meaningless. She is a member of this family; you are my steward’s son, nothing more!
As of today, I withdraw as your godfather.
“For too long I have made excuses for you. I felt badly for you after your mother passed but I have done you no favours. You are not entitled to anything that you do not earn. After I heard what my nephews told me, who unlike you never lie, I made some inquiries. What is this fabricated story that you have been telling that I am your father, and I will bequeath you one of our satellite estates? Where does such an absurd story come from?”
“M-my m-mother,” Wickham squeaked.
“George, your mother lied to you,” his father informed him, seeing his son wanted to interrupt he continued. “You are not my natural son, but the man that your mother laid with before I married her when she was a maid at Snowhaven is no longer alive.”
“Your father will mete out the appropriate punishment to you. I will warn you now, if you ever come into the areas that I have forbidden you from, or threaten a member of this family or any other under my protection again, the magistrate will be called. Do I make myself clear?” Darcy demanded, satisfied he had carried his point when young Wickham nodded and was led out of the study by his father.
Young George Wickham was in a near catatonic state at the declaration that his most true inner belief was just denied.
Once they had walked half of the more than one mile to the steward’s dwelling, George Wickham silently promised himself that he would extract his revenge on all who had wronged him, especially the mongrel foundling!
When he arrived home, there was a whipping, but it was him who received it not one of the Fitzwilliams as he had predicted!