With two pots of coffee, Darcy worked hard to come to terms with what was beyond alteration. Stepping into his study for the first time since he drank himself senseless, he appreciated his housekeeper for airing out the room. Not since the night he lost his father had he imbibed until he lost consciousness.
Mrs. Price notified him of Wickham’s departure late the night before. She said nothing of Georgiana going with him. In his inebriation, Darcy never noticed. He hoped George would never return now that he had thirty thousand available to him, with no one but an ignorant wife to hold him accountable.Greedy dastard!
The sun was already on its path across the western sky. Where was his sister? Was she weeping from the abandonment of her new husband?
Straightening the pile of papers on his desk, he looked up when his butler announced Darcy’s uncle.
“Lord Matlock, sir.” The butler closed the door behind the earl.
“Uncle, you know about Georgiana?”
Hugh Fitzwilliam, Lord Matlock, looked like he aged a decade since the last time they were in company on Wednesday past.
“You look awful.” His uncle refused coffee. “The Darcy name is on every tongue, I fear. Wickham spent yesterday afternoon going from shop to shop on Bond Street ordering a wardrobe fit for a prince. At each one, he planted malicious slander about you. His most familiar refrain was apparently, ‘I grew up with him. Darcy is a private man only because he has something to hide.’”
“Yesterday? He did this before receiving Georgiana’s fortune? Before they informed me?” Darcy rubbed his hands over his face.
“I fear it gets worse, Nephew. He implies that his marrying Georgiana was to protect her from your licentious behavior. Even with the elopement, some in society appear to be rallying around the newlyweds, those who are charmed by Wickham and his new money. You will feel the cold shoulder of a few of your peers, most particularly those who feared your honor would expose them to censure. Wickham is strategic with his defamation.”
Darcy felt the direct blow. “He will play to the crowd as he always does. They will defend him until his lies become obvious. By then, he will move on to charm others. Unfortunately, this time, he will be dragging my sister with him.”
His uncle hung his head for a moment. “Darcy, Wickham was at White’s this morning telling everyone that he is now the rightful owner of Darcy House, along with Pemberley and all its assets. He is saying that he left you with nothing but the clothes on your back.”
“Balderdash! Wickham gains only my sister and her dowry.”
When his uncle hesitated, fear rose in his chest like the first tendrils of smoke from a fire. Scenes of Wickham gleefully accepting the bank draft from Mr. Cole flickered across his memory. Cole and the notary returning to Darcy House later that night, him drunkenly signing a stack of papers, the notary poised to place his seal at the bottom.
Why were there so many contracts to transfer the interest from the dowry account to Pemberley’s general fund? Had that not…? What is happening?
“Uncle?” Pulling the pile of paperwork toward him, his insides churned. “Cole had me sign documents to transfer the interest on Georgiana’s account…but it could not be since I already signed when I released her portion to Wickham. There was no need for another contract to close the account or the transfer or… What on earth did I sign?”
“Cole? Odd that you mention him since I received a note from him via a messenger addressed to you not twenty minutes ago.” Reaching into his pocket, he handed a folded letter to his nephew.
Darcy ripped it open, pieces of the wax seal scattering over the floor. Quickly scanning the page, he collapsed into his chair, his breath coming in gasps. His hands trembled. His stomach revolted. Hurrying to a Chinese urn on the sideboard, he retched violently. On his knees, he wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. “Read it aloud, I beg you. It cannot say what I think it says.”
Hugh Fitzwilliam, Lord Matlock, scanned thedocument, then rested his large hand on Darcy’s shoulder. “Oh, lord, no!”
“Aloud, please.”
Sighing heavily, his uncle began.
Mr. Darcy,
By the time you receive this letter, I am already aboard a ship traveling to my new home. An enormous gift from your new brother-in-law, Mr. Wickham, made my sudden retirement possible.
If you have not yet reviewed the documents you signed and Mr. Cinna witnessed, I shall explain in brief.
You willfully and knowingly gifted Pemberley, Darcy House, and all Darcy family assets to Mr. George Wickham, the husband of your sister, Mrs. Georgiana Wickham, to be managed by him for as long as he lives. He was a favorite of your father, so he is confident that he is finally accepting what is rightfully his.
Because of recent transfers from your accounts to Pemberley, which Mr. Wickham now controls, you own only items purchased from this personal account. As far as I am aware, this means your only claims against the contents of Darcy House and Pemberley will be your clothing, a few pieces of artwork, jewelry gifted to you by your mother, miscellaneous other bits and bobs, and your horse. Mr. and Mrs. Wickham will enjoy the remaining assets tied to your former estate.
Signed and notarized copies of these transfers are with me. Another copy is on your desk. The originals belong to Mr. Wickham. Before my departure on the clipper ship this morning, I transferred and filed all deeds and accounts with the court.
I know you will appreciate having a new beginning towork out your future. At almost sixty years of age, it was time for me to look out for mine.
Sincerely,
Simon Y. Cole, retired Darcy family Man of Business
