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“Lizzy says that Mr Darcy was insufferable while she was there, always staring at her and vacillating between arguing with her and ignoring her. Hence, she has a thorough dislike of the man.”
It was as William had guessed. Cousin Elizabeth’s vanity and pride had been injured by Mr Darcy’s words combined with what her mother always said. That had led to her suspending her logic because Mr Wickham’s tale of woe justified her feelings about Mr Darcy, confirming what she wanted to believe about him—that he was the worst kind of man.
He had never met Mr Darcy, but he was very familiar with Colonel Fitzwilliam. After speaking with Cousin Mary, William knew what he needed to write in his letter to Fitzwilliam.
“Cousin Mary, before we return to the house, I will admit that I am intrigued by you. I hope that before I leave, we will enter a courtship; however, I have no desire to rush you before you are prepared to take that step. My aim is to come to know you much better and allow you the opportunity to do the same.” William saw she was about to interject. “Your mother has no say over who I decide to court. Why she is trying to push Cousin Elizabeth at me, only He knows. If she speaks to me again of it, I will make it clear that neither of us wants that sort of connection, as we do not suit. You and I do suit, but as I said, I will not rush you. If we do arrive at the point I offer for you, I will not accept you unless I am sure it is your choice and no one has pressured you into making it.”
It was a glowing Mary, her useless spectacles in the pocket of her day dress, who returned to the house with her cousin, the maid Sarah trailing them.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Wickham sauntered into the taproom at the Red Lion Inn in Meryton and sat down at his usual table. Rather than the regular serving wench, one he was sure he would be able to bed with no problems, he was approached by the landlord.
“Good day to you, Mr Paulson. Is Margorie not working today?” Wickham asked, exuding charm.
“Unless you can settle your account right now, you will not be served here again. If you are not able, I am told that Colonel Forster will do so. Pay up now; you owe me one pound, eleven shillings, five pence, and a ha’penny. If you are not able, leave the inn now and do not return unless you can pay what you owe. No more credit.”
As Wickham really wanted the ale and some food, he forked over almost all of the rest of his blunt to pay his debt and the cost of what he wanted now. He could not understand why he would no longer be allowed to buy on credit here. Just after his bowl of stew and the ale were delivered, Denny flopped down in the chair next to him. “You will not believe it! Mr Paulson closed my account and demanded immediate payment,” Wickham whinged.
“It is not only for you. All shops in Meryton have done the same for all of us. I just returned from paying the money I owed for four accounts.” Denny sighed. “Captain Carter told me that one of the denizens of the town heard some tale of how a regiment left a town with many debts owing. So now we must all suffer.”
“Someone from the town? Not that prig Darcy who keeps on trying to blast my prospects?” Wickham demanded.
“No. Carter heard the colonel ask the man that. He said he did not speak to your friend, and then Colonel Forster went to the shops to make sure it was we officers and not someone impersonating us who opened the accounts. He found that it was us. Do you know that one of us already amassed twenty pounds of debts in less than a sennight?” Denny reported.
Knowing very well it was he who owed that amount, Wickham said nothing. “Denny, what happens if an officer slips away?” Wickham enquired.
“You mean if he deserts? In a time of war, like it is now, he would be hunted down and shot as a deserter. The army, and that includes the militia, take any desertions very seriously,” Denny revealed.
He knew he was trapped. Wickham’s contract was for a full two years, as his lieutenancy had been without any cost to him. How was it he was having so much bad luck? Wickham so much wanted to blame Darcy for this, but from what Denny had told him, it did not sound as if his enemy had a hand in this. To make sure, Wickham went to the colonel’s offices and asked Carter what had occurred.
The captain confirmed it was the knight who had come to speak to the colonel, and he had not aimed his investigation at any one man, in fact, he had not named any officer. Rather, as Denny had said, the man had been told of a town somewhere and what had occurred there. Further bad news was that Carter mentioned that everyone in the town had been warned to be on their guard against false promises of marriage and young girls being asked to anticipate their vows. If that were not all bad enough, Wickham was called into the Colonel’s office.
When he was asked how he would pay what he owed, Wickham mentioned that he had paid what he owed at the inn. That left more than eighteen pounds. He tried to say that he would be able to pay if Darcy paid what he was owed, but Colonel Forster had scoffed. The colonel had told Wickham the regiment would pay, but his monthly wages would only be one pound to him until his debt was paid in full.
When Wickham left Colonel Forster’s offices, he was reeling. Of late, including games of chance between the officers, the only luck he had was bad.
Later that day, an order was issued by the colonel saying that all debts of honour had to be settled right away and that debt markers were no longer to be used. As he had no money to pay what he owed, it meant that Wickham would be excluded from all games.
If only whoever told that damned knight the tale of the other town had not done so!
Chapter 15
As Richard Fitzwilliam sat in his quarters in London, he mused about the fact that he had not expected to fall in love with his cousin, Anne de Bourgh. Nevertheless, it is what had occurred during those months they had worked together to undo Lady Catherine’s mismanagement of Rosings Park.
The last thing he wanted anyone to think, much less Anne, was that his only interest was in her fortune. Fitzwilliam was sorry that Collins was away from Hunsford visiting his relatives in Hertfordshire. Had the parson been at his home, Fitzwilliam would have ridden the less than thirty miles to seek guidance from the extremely sensible clergyman. His advice, both regarding the estate and as Anne’s spiritual guide, had been excellent.
As if thinking of Collins had caused a letter from him to arrive, Fitzwilliam took the epistle his batman offered him. When he looked at the return direction, he saw it was from the man himself, posted from Hertfordshire.
He wondered if William Darcy had met Collins yet, and if where his cousin was being hosted with Bingley was close to Collins’s cousins’ estate.
He hoped that nothing was wrong at Rosings Park, prompting Collins to write to him. Fitzwilliam knew that surmising would tell him nothing, and there was only one way to know. He had to break the seal and begin to read.
22 November 1811
Longbourn
Near the market town of Meryton
