Chapter 5: Seize the Day
by D. C. Williams
Darcy House, Mayfair, London
Sunday, the 1st of December, 1811
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam sprawled before the fireplace in his cousin’s study, feet up, sipping a glass of brandy. Across from him was Fitzwilliam Darcy, his cousin and best friend since childhood, who stared unseeing at the flickering flames illuminating the room.
“Enough. Darcy, you have been morose and silent—oblivious even for you—since your return from Hertfordshire. Did Bingley’s sister finally find the courage to compromise you?”
Darcy gave a dark chuckle. “No.” He tossed back his drink with a grimace. He rose abruptly and paced the room, pausing at the window to glare at the darkness.
“Bingley found a new angel, the eldest daughter of a neighbouring estate, a typical mercenary mother.”
“And…”
“I joined his sister in extracting him. Again.”
“I do not understand. Bingley follows your lead like a green lad. Unless you mean he raised expectations?”
“Indeed, the local society had every expectation of a proposal. I was…distracted and did not see it in time. I fear it will be difficult for the young lady.”
“I still do not see that as your problem, Darce. Perhaps it is time you allow Bingley to play the hand he was dealt. This is not the first such result of his wandering eye. What makes this time different?”
Darcy refilled his drink, waving the decanter towards Fitzwilliam, who nodded and lifted his glass.
“There is more. The lady has young sisters, and Wickham has paid them much attention.”
Fitzwilliam jumped to his feet, sloshing brandy onto his trousers. “Bollocks! When did you plan to mention Wickham had re-emerged?”
Darcy waved his hand dismissively. “I am sick to death of him…but cannot get the image of him speaking to the youngest Bennet daughters—of an age with Georgiana—from my mind. He has poisoned the entire community with his usual lies.”
“What is he doing there? Did he follow you?”
“No, he was as shocked to see me as I was to find him flirting in the village square. He has acquired a commission in the Derbyshire Militia. It is billeted there for the winter.”
Fitzwilliam resumed his seat. Setting his brandy on the table, he tapped his finger against his lips.
“Ahh, opportunity. Perhaps you will finally allow me to deal with him?”
Darcy turned away. “Perhaps.”
Fitzwilliam closely observed his cousin.This was too easy.
“So, you will leave this to me. Why now? After letting the blackguard go free at Ramsgate? What has changed?”
“The Bennets are a family of five daughters—all out—the youngest are ripe for his type of charm. Wickham would ruin them for sport. I could not act… Georgiana…”
Fitzwilliam was certain there was more to this than a misplaced sense of responsibility. “What of the other sisters?”
Darcy flinched and took a deep drink of his brandy. “The elder sisters are admirable women, kind and intelligent. The middle sister is excessively prim, but harmless enough. The elders attempt to regulate the younger two with limited success.”
“What was so very bad about this Miss Bennet? Mercenary mothers are as common as horses.”
“No fortune or connexions, close ties to trade, and as intolerable a family as I have ever seen. The mother is loud, vulgar, grasping. The younger girls are wild. The father, clearly indolent regarding responsibility to his estate and his family. Such a connexion would be a degradation.” Darcy spoke with disgust and finished his drink.
Fitzwilliam considered the disposition of their former companion, George Wickham, with no little satisfaction.
