Page 78 of Master of Himself

“I know how commissions work, thank you,” Wickham said in an irritated voice. “Besides, it’s the least you could do for me, knowing that your father meant to provide for me.”

Despite his resolve to control his temper, Darcy rose to anger. “My revered father did provide for you, as he did for everyone under his care, including the poor and infirmed. He strove to conduct himself as a gentleman and would abhor your idleness and dissipation. If you ever cared for him, you would use this opportunity to follow his example.”

“You need not lecture me, Fitzwilliam.”

“No, indeed. It’s of no consequence to me if you choose to dishonour your father’s name, but you will not dishonour mine.”

Wickham’s eyes flared with anger, but he remained silent.

“Nor do I need to tell you that our connection is at an end. I’ve already paid out thousands on your behalf. If you find yourself at a stand again, you’ll be on your own.”

Wickham merely shrugged. “I always come about,” he said, then pulled a roll out of his pocket and bit into it.

“I’m certain you shall.”

They did not speak again.

Certainly, there was no need to say aloud what was painfully obvious. A man’s honour was a fragile thing and could be lost in an instant. If Wickham defaulted on his debts again, he would be ruined. Darcy had previously covered George’s debts of honour in Derbyshire, and he would do the same in Meryton. He couldn’t fathom how Wickham had managed to avoid being called out for his offences, but this luck couldn’t hold forever.

Or perhaps George was right, and he would come about. He might even meet his heiress someday.

Either way, Darcy would take no further responsibility for his former friend. He had only done so for his father’s sake, and he hoped his sire would agree that he had done everything that could possibly be done to preserve Wickham’s future.

When they arrived at Whitehall, they followed a young soldier to Richard’s office, where they also met Lieutenant Jenkins. Despite the colonel’s disgust of his former friend, he politely greeted Wickham and introduced him to Jenkins. He then escorted them down the stairs and through a long hallway to the regimental agent where Darcy purchased the commission. Once this was accomplished and documented, they descended another staircase and traversed a maze of hallways to a large crowded office. There Darcy watched Wickham swear his allegiance to the King.

“So help me God.”

Richard produced the militia resignation letter, which he explained to Wickham. Once it was signed, he passed it to Jenkins, who gestured to Wickham. “If you’ll come with me, Lieutenant Wickham, we’ll get your new uniform and kit.”

Before leaving, Wickham bowed in parting, and Darcy returned the gesture. Darcy shook hands with Jenkins, thanked him for his service, and watched the two men leave the room.

Richard escorted him out to the hall and clapped him on the back. “It’s done, Darcy. He’s in good hands, which is more than he deserves. If it were up to me, he’d be sitting in debtor’s prison.”

Although Darcy understood his cousin’s opinion, he’d hated witnessing his boyhood friend forced into an occupation not of his own choosing. If Wickham had conducted himself properly and followed the path that George Darcy had set out for him, he might have had a long and fulfilling career in the church. But he had fallen prey to vice, and could fault no one but himself for this outcome.

Richard escorted him down the stairs and out to the flagway. “Are you sure you won’t join us at the assembly tonight?”

“Maybe next time,” he said, shaking his cousin’s hand.

After Richard had gone, Darcy wondered if this was the last he would hear from George Wickham. Would he be called on again to rescue his former friend if he squandered this last opportunity? In all honesty, how could he turn his back on a young man his father had loved so well and harboured such high hopes for his continued success? If his father were still alive, Darcy doubted he would have ever abandoned his godson, despite’s his repeated failures.

His coachman interrupted these solemn reflections. “Back to Grosvenor, Mr Darcy?”

“Yes, please, Mr Mullins.” He had spent entirely too much time and effort on Wickham’s latest folly. Now that the scoundrel had been set on a new path, the time had finally come to focus on his own concerns.

Hopefully, by this time tomorrow, if all went well, Miss Elizabeth Bennet would be his affianced bride.

***

CB

All is well.

FD

Now that both runaways had been successfully dealt with, Charles finally allowed himself to relax. However, since one irksome business matter still remained unresolved by Friday evening, his reunion with Jane must be delayed.

With that dear lady in mind, he carefully composed a brief letter to assure her that he hadn’t forgotten her. He wrote a short note to Darcy, advising him to go to Netherfield as planned, and that he would follow as soon as possible. Within that note, he enclosed his sealed missive to Miss Bennet.