Chapter 5

While the Bennets celebrated Elizabeth’s tenth birthday, another three family birthdays were being enjoyed in London. Saul Rhys-Davies and Philip Carrington were sharing the day with the youngest of their cousins—she was considered such even though there was no direct familial link to the Darcys, Georgiana Darcy, called Giana by all, who was born on the fourth day of March 1795. As much as they would have enjoyed their older brothers and male cousins being in attendance, the cousins who shared a birthday understood why they were not able to arrive for the anniversary of their birth.

Sed, who turned twenty in January, Andrew who would be twenty in April, and Jamey who would be nineteen in July, were all at Cambridge. The former two were in their second year and the latter his first year. Try as they may, the three cousins had not been able to approach, never mind pass, any of the chess records still held by Mr. Thomas Bennet. The other two older male cousins, Richard, recently seventeen, and William who would be sixteen in May, were at Eton. The former in his final year at the school, and the latter in his penultimate. At least Belle and Emily were present. Each would reach the age of fifteen that year, the former in June while the latter in August.

The two who had just turned ten were keen to begin their educations at Eton like their older brothers and cousins before them. They knew they had about three years to wait, but it did not stop them from wishing the time would pass much faster. Neither of the two objected to sharing the day with Giana, even if she was not technically related to them.

Georgiana Darcy was considered her parents’ little miracle. After her last miscarriage, Lady Anne suffered just before the births at the inn in Meryton, the doctors had opined her Ladyship would not be able to become enceinte again. They were wrong, and although carrying another babe had drained her strength, Lady Anne was beyond overjoyed when she was gifted a daughter. Robert Darcy had been filled with dread that his beloved Anne would be taken from him. The truth was, for about a sennight after their daughter was born, Darcy was fearful Anne would not recover. It had taken a long time, but recover she did.

Little Giana was growing to be a smaller copy of her mother, with straight, golden-blonde hair, and the blue eyes of the Fitzwilliams. She missed her big brother and Fitzwilliam cousins, but was satisfied that Belle and Emily were in attendance, even if they were about ten years her senior.

Because Anne and Robert Darcy were sister and brother to Elaine and Reggie, Rose and Cilla and their families, considered them relatives. One who did not receive that honour was Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Sir Lewis passed away in October 1793 while on a journey to inspect his holdings in the Shetland Islands. In fact, he took every opportunity to travel away from his termagant of a wife as much as possible. Sometimes, he would take Anne with him. Unfortunately, he had not done so on one of his travels in February of 1792. Anne had remained at home when a virulent strain of scarlet fever had swept through the area around Westerham in Kent.

In her wisdom, Lady Catherine had been slow to have Anne attended to by a physician as she claimed those of their rank did not fall ill. Her inaction had cost her one and only daughter her life and destroyed what little patience Sir Lewis had for his wife. He had sent her to the dower house and refused to see her again. His will had been changed in favour of his nephew Richard who would have otherwise, as a second son, have had to shift for himself. Until Richard reached the age of five and twenty his estate, de Bourgh House, and the de Bourgh fortune were held in a trust administered by the late Sir Lewis’s executors, who were his brothers, Matlock and Darcy.

When Lady Catherine had heard the reading of the will, she threatened to challenge it, even though she had no legal standing to do so. The only thing which stayed her action was a clause in her late husband’s will which stated if she had the temerity to challenge his will or interfere in any way in the running of the estate, she would then be banished from Rosings Park with one hundred pounds and whatever of her clothing she could carry. Once the virago had understood the seriousness of her late husband’s threat, she had receded, with no good cheer, and returned to the dower house. Of course, she told one and all how seriously displeased she was. No one cared.

Since her brother and sister had refused to support her, Lady Catherine had broken with the rest of the family and ceased to send them her sage advice. It was something else no one repined.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~

“Do you still shout against the thunder and play chess against Mr. Bennet by post?” Matlock asked his brother as he blew out his cigar smoke—none of their wives wanted the smell of smoke in their dining parlours, so if there was to be smoking, to the study they went. It was the evening after the joint birthday celebration and the four men were in the master’s study at Carrington house where the celebration had been held this year. The get togethers were rotated each year. The previous year it had been at Bedford House and next year it would be the Darcys’ turn to host.

“I do,” Darcy acknowledged. I have not beaten him yet, but we have played to several draws. Hence, I do not lose all the time,” Darcy stated with a grin as he swirled his snifter of cognac. “In fact, Bennet agreed to correspond with William and indulge him by playing against him. William is getting better; he may even beat Bennet one day. Most surprising is what Bennet told me in his last missive which accompanied his move.”

“And what was that?” Bedford enquired after releasing a cloud of blue-grey smoke into the air.

“His daughter, the one who was born the same day as Saul and Philip at that inn, has already played him to a few draws,” Darcy revealed.

“Surely he allows her an advantage?” Holder insisted with raised eyebrows.

“No, he claims he will not, and she would be angry if he did,” Darcy informed the other men. Now it was not only Holder’s eyebrows that were raised. “He feels she will begin to beat him in the next few years, possibly sooner. It seems she has a natural aptitude for the game, even better than his was at the same age.”

“I will make sure never to challenge her to a match,” Bedford stated as he stubbed out his cigar. “It took some time for me to recover from the drubbings at Bennet’s hand. I am not sure I would do so if a ten-year-old beat me as well.”

“Why do you not have William play against the daughter?” Matlock suggested. “If she is already that good, it may be good for him before he faces Bennet.”

“I will propose that to him. It will depend on William whether he will object to playing against a little girl,” Darcy laughingly responded. “On a different subject, why do you think none of the boys will be around George Wickham? Surely it is not because he is a steward’s son.”

In mid-1786, Darcy had employed Lucas Wickham as his steward. The man who had retired had recommended Mr. Wickham enthusiastically. He was married and they had a son, George, who was more than a year junior to William. It had not taken Darcy long to see that his former steward’s recommendation had been accurate.

When the group of male cousins were younger, they had included George Wickham in their games and he had always been welcomed by them. That all changed in 1795, some months after Giana was born. Young Wickham was welcomed as a playmate less and less. By then, at the late Mrs. Wickham’s urging, Darcy agreed to stand godfather for young George and he had allowed himself to be charmed by the boy’s friendly and accommodating manners. After the boy’s mother passed away, Darcy pledged himself to pay for George to receive a gentleman’s education.

According to George, Richard and William would not associate with him at Eton, where he was in the first year, and he claimed they would play some rather hurtful and nasty pranks on him. Darcy had held off taking William to task as his wife seemed to have taken a dislike to young Wickham and questioned the veracity of his reports.

“You are normally one of the most perspicacious people I know,” Matlock responded. “For some reason, you are stubborn, deaf, and blind when it comes to George Wickham.”

“William told me some stories about mischief caused by George, but after George told me it was William, I let it rest as it was one’s word against the other,” Darcy stated defensively.

“Did you bother to ask Sed, Andrew, Jamey, or Richard for their perspectives?” Holder prodded.

“Surely they would just support William out of familial loyalty.” As he said it, Darcy heard the lie in his words. Never had he had reason to question the veracity of anything any of the young men had said. Could he be as blind as Matlock intimated?

“Darcy, you know that is claptrap!” Bedford barked. “You are doing that boy no favours elevating him as you have. What think you his expectations will be when, if, he eventually graduates from Cambridge?”

“Bedford has struck at the core of the issue,” Matlock stated after he had drained the port from his glass. “Even I know young Wickham is incredibly envious of all of our sons, but for some reason, William more than any other. It could be because he is living on the same estate and has grown up seeing that which will never be his.” Matlock paused. “My sons have told me they will not waste their time telling you as they do not think you will accept the truth. The one who is at fault and plays some downright cruel pranks is young George Wickham. You trust the Reynolds do you not?”

“Of course. What has that to do with this discussion?” Darcy objected.

“When you are at Pemberley next, ask them to tell you how he treats your servants, how at the age of fourteen he makes demands from the servants in your name as your godson,” Matlock elucidated. “Do you know he was caught trying to order a maid to lift her skirt for him? Knowing how you unreasonably favour the boy; your staff and servants will not say anything unless they know there will be no repercussions for telling the truth.”

When he had asked for advice about having George included, the last thing he had expected was to run into a solid wall of information about his godson, which refuted all of his beliefs regarding the young man. He began to acknowledge that for whatever reason he had not wanted to hear the truth. Mayhap it was because the boy had lost his mother. It was then Darcy remembered what Wickham had told him about his late wife being a spendthrift and being envious of those with more than her. Could it be she had turned George into a younger, male version of herself?

“What should I do?” a defeated Darcy asked.

“Ascertain the facts, and act accordingly,” Matlock averred succinctly. If he must be educated, send him to the local school. If his father wants him to study further, it should be his choice. Also, I never understood why you allowed the late Mrs. Wickham to manipulate you into becoming her son’s godfather.” Matlock paused, “Are you aware she tried to intimate to those who would listen that you were her paramour?”

Darcy flushed with fury. “Anyone who knows Anne and me would never believe that horse dung!”

“No one did, which is why she stopped trying to push her lie, but it does make me wonder what she told her son about you and her, and perchance his parentage,” Matlock surmised.

“Anne and I will discuss this and then I will know how to act,” Darcy decided. “It seems I must eat humble pie and acknowledge my errors to my wife, son, and your sons.”

To relieve the tension, the men discussed the horses they were considering purchasing at Tattersalls. Soon enough, they rejoined the ladies and children in the drawing room.

That night, Darcy owned his mistakes to his wife and begged her pardon for not listening to her concerns about the steward’s son, and his not taking the word of his own son as the truth. With the infinite depth of her love for her husband, forgiveness was a foregone conclusion.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~

“Cilla, have you ever noticed how our younger sons look so similar one to the other?” Rose asked her younger sister a few days after the birthdays when Cilla was calling at Bedford House.

“I have noted that, but they both bear a passing resemblance to our late papa. He had a similar colour of hair and eyes. It was our dearly departed mama who gifted us our hair, and eye colour,” Cilla pointed out.

“Not to mention mine and Elaine’s height,” Rose smiled.

“Yes, I am taller like our late Papa was. The truth is that all of our children have grown up together and are more like siblings than cousins,” Cilla opined.

“You have the right of it,” Rose noted. “I do wish Elaine would have been blessed with another child like we were.”

“I know she misses having a daughter of her own, but having Belle and Emily with her often helps.”

“That is true. But Cilla, it still angers me that a woman like Catherine de Bourgh was granted a daughter only to allow her to die because of her hubris and stupidity. If only we had been able to take Anne away from that woman before she took ill.”

“Rose, you know how often Elaine used to invite Anne, but Catherine would not allow her to come unless she was engaged to Andrew.” Priscilla paused. They had already spoken of Catherine de Bourgh more than was palatable. “There is a question I have regarding our younger sons…”

The sisters spoke of their observations, and like always before, it was ascribed to an anomaly.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~

A sennight after Easter, Bennet informed his wife and mother that the purchase had been finalised. “Sir Malcolm tried to demand more than the real value of the estate by ignoring all of the issues,” Bennet told the ladies. The baronet lived in Cornwall and had his primary estate there. “However, Philips and I would not relent. In the end, he realised he was lucky to get such an offer. Not many would purchase an estate with all of the problems that one has. His desire to be rid of it while adding some funds to his coffers won out.”

“When will the re-building begin? And will you be away from home for days on end as you bring the estate back to profitability?” Fanny enquired.

“I will attempt to keep it to a minimum,” Bennet promised. “Where are the girls?”

“Mrs. Frost is teaching them music lessons,” Beth averred. “That reminds me, have you two noticed how Mary is taking to pianoforte lessons? She not only loves to play, but she seems to have a natural, if unrefined, ability.”

“It seems we will have to employ a music master sooner rather than later,” Bennet realised.

“I suppose it is an advantage of our proximity to Town,” Fanny opined, “it will not be a hardship for the man if we employ a London master.”

“Thomas, Lizzy told me she almost beat you at chess,” Beth recalled. “Is that accurate, or an exaggeration rooted in the wishful thinking of a young girl?”

“No Mother. She reported accurately to you. The little miss came within a move or two of doing so. It will not be much longer until she does,” Bennet related. “You both remember I have played against a man named Robert Darcy via the post for more than ten years now?” Both ladies nodded. “I received a letter from him in which he changed his request for me to play against his son. Rather, he seeks my permission for the son to play against Lizzy via the post. All letters will be addressed to, and sent by, me of course. With those conditions, her reputation would not be able to be questioned. What think you?”

“If Lizzy desires to play against this Mr. Darcy’s son, then under the conditions you enumerated, I have no opposition,” Fanny agreed.

Once her practice on the pianoforte was completed, Elizabeth was summoned to her father’s study. When he explained what his friend had requested, and all the strictures he would put in place, she had jumped at the chance.

As soon as Lizzy skipped out of his inner sanctum, Bennet penned a letter to Darcy telling him his daughter had agreed. Bennet reiterated the terms under which he allowed the games to proceed.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~

“Father, what does a young girl know of chess?” William asked plaintively. A day before he was to return to Eton, his father had told him rather than playing against Mr. Bennet, he would be challenging his daughter of ten.

“Do you remember how many years it took me to just occasionally play Bennet to a draw?” Darcy asked. William nodded. “His daughter was doing that within two years of learning to play. Before you reject the unknown, try. If her playing is inadequate, I will not insist you continue.

Father and son shook on their agreement.