Page 49 of A Quiet Affection

Wickham’s father held up a broad piece of paper written in clean legal hand. “We have decided to place the estate in a fee tail upon you and legitimate male heirs of your body. If there are no male heirs, there shall be an equal life interest in the ongoing income of the estate for your daughters. If you and your children should all die without further direct male heirs, the estate will revert to Mr. Darcy’s line.”

His father put down the papers. Wickham stared at the age spots that had started to cover the old man’s forehead since he’d begun drinking so much after Mama died.

Wickham waited for Mr. Darcy to say something further. When Mr. Darcy did not, he asked, “Is that all? The income from this is less than half what I was promised with the living.”

Papa spoke for Mr. Darcy, “It is a gift freely given, rather than a position within which you work.”

“There is no substantial work in being a vicar,” Wickham replied. “You only need to make up sermons, and I imagine I could enjoy that very well.”

“That you think so,” his father replied, “is why you are not fit for that calling.”

“But it issomuch less. Surely you cannot mean to give me so little.”

Mr. Darcy smiled at him. “It seems less, but the value of an estate that you can pass on to your son is much greater than that of a professional position which only lasts while you are fit to do its duties.”

“But the estate is tied up in an entailment. I can hardly use it as I might wish.”

“And in that,” Mr. Darcy said, not losing his smile, “I protect you from yourself.”

“But, but, but…” Wickham had not expected this. He had expected to have a proper provision made for him. “With that little income, I could not keep a carriage or hire more than one manservant. How will I be able to call myself a gentleman?”

“You will be free to study law and if you succeed in the practice, you can add greatly to the income that you will have from the estate. And you must not forget the income from Jane’s fortune, and the one thousand pounds which I have given you already. That doubles the income from Greenstead.”

“But, but it is still so little.”

“My dear George,” Papa said to Wickham, “the decision has been made. If you apply yourself to the study of the law, if you enter the business that I have pursued with some success, with diligent and hard work, you can easily achieve an income in excess what you would have had with the living.”

“I don’t want to work diligently. I don’t want hard work—” Wickham turned to Mr. Darcy. He made his face the saddest and most appealing. “Please, sir, please. I beg you. I know you do not owe me more than this, but I beg you to give me enough to hold my head up in the community.”

Papa said to Wickham, “George. Enough. This is what you shall receive.”

Wickham did not look away from Mr. Darcy. Pleading eyes.

More. More. I deserve more.

With a soft smile, Mr. Darcy reached forward and with a shaking arm ruffled his hair as he used to. “Dear boy, I never can deny you anything. Wickham, give them another thousand in the funds. But add it to Jane’s settlement.”

Mr. Darcy waggled a finger in front of Wickham’s face. “I don’t like all this I’ve heard about these debts you’ve taken on.”

“But—” Wickham closed his mouth. Only a mere, blank thousand more? Only that little more.

Yet he remembered his mother’s words, and the way that she had deeply impressed on him the necessity of never offending Mr. Darcy. This was a gift that he could revoke before he died.

Wickhamwouldtry again with Mr. Darcy on a later date, when his father was not present to counsel him against kindness, but not now.

“Thank you, my dear, dear Mr. Darcy, you have always been like a true father to me. The truest of fathers.” Wickham took Mr. Darcy’s hand and kissed it.

He did not look to see the effect on Papa of hearing him say this. He hoped his father hurt.

The older Mr. Wickham rolled his eyes. This was just what he had learned to expect from his son. The boy was receiving more than he deserved.

Wickham’s thoughts were dark: Papa hadn’t tried to support his interests. He’d been encouraging Mr. Darcy to only give him money in settlements, to think about his debts, to leave him with so little because if he worked diligently, he could succeed in a profession.

Damn his father.

This was how Papa wanted to get revenge on him for how his mother had enjoyed her life.

If his father had been a man, a true man, he would have punished the woman who had done so much to shame him, rather than gaining revenge on her son.