Chapter 13

J ames Bennet, his three children, and the Freemans arrived at the Port of Montreal, located on the St Lawrence River, four days later than James had estimated based on how long the journey should have been.

As a slave, neither Jeremiah nor Jemimah had been given family names. Freeman was the one they had adopted when they were employed by the master and the late mistress.

The travellers had needed to traverse the land of the Kanyen’kehà:ka, known as the Mohawks in the United States. The chief and elders of the tribe had accepted the gifts which had been brought to buy safe passage through their territory, but the Bennet party had been invited—which James knew would not be looked upon kindly if they refused—to remain for a few days and join in a celebration. They had done so and been treated as honoured guests. At the end of the four day celebration, they had been sent on their way to Tiohtià:ke, the name the Kanyen’kehà:ka called Montreal, with blessings for a safe journey to the other side of the world intoned by the tribe’s shaman.

While the men who had escorted them remained with his family, James and Jeremiah discovered the first ship to depart would be one of the Dennington Line. The irony of his returning to England on a vessel belonging to the same shipping line he had used to escape all those years ago was not lost on James. They were directed to the line’s office at the port and thankfully practically all of first class was available.

When James had purchased first class berths for all of his party, the clerk seeing that Jeremiah was from Africa looked askance for a moment or two, but diverted his eyes when the man before him gave him a look which said, ‘I dare you to say something’ and the clerk, not being a brave man, withdrew any objection he was about to make and issued the tickets as soon as James handed over the banknotes.

The payment was no hardship for James, in fact, it was an insignificant amount for him. The money he had brought with him to the new world had hardly been touched and had been growing apace for the last five and twenty years. In addition, he had added his share of the profits from his late father-in-law’s farm each year. His intention was to dower Maria and have a good amount left over for Abe. As he and Henry were to assume ownership of Netherfield Park, James felt he would only need to reserve a moderate amount as ready funds in case of emergencies.

The two men returned to where the rest of their party were waiting for them. He paid the men who had acted as guards the balance of what he had agreed. He renewed his offer to pay the fare for any of them who had no attachments and desired to move to England. Only two men who had worked on the farm for a few years, after they had served in the army, and were rather large and hulking men, accepted the offer. The rest thanked Mr Bennet for his generosity and began their ride back to the south.

“The ship sails on the morning of the third day from now, we will find an inn in the meantime,” James related. “As soon as we have found one which has rooms for all of us, I will purchase two more berths on the ship.”

An inn was found close by, which had more than enough rooms for all of them. As soon as everything was organised, Henry joined his father for the walk.

“I am happy Biggs and Johns are coming with us,” Henry told his father as they approached the shipping line’s office. “They were always the most loyal of those employed on the farm and worked the hardest by far. Biggs helped me improve my marksmanship after you taught me to shoot. Both he and Johns are crack shots.”

“It does not surprise me they were the ones who wanted to remain with us. Neither man has any relatives living, and over the years, we have become their family,” James responded.

This time when Mr Bennet purchased two more tickets, the clerk was careful to school his features. With the additional berths spoken for, first class was full for the upcoming voyage.

On the walk back to the inn, Henry noted his father was deep in thought, so he did nothing to disturb his Pa’s thoughts.

James was asking himself a question he had considered more times than he cared to remember. ‘ Had I not been so pig-headed, and read the letters from my family rather than stubbornly refusing to do so, would we have returned to England while my Mattie was alive? Could our being in England have changed things so my darling wife would still be at my side? ’ he asked himself silently. As he did when he became self-indulgent like this, he could hear his Mattie’s voice telling him he was being a fool. He was not God, and no matter what he had done, as a mere and very flawed mortal, he would not have been able to change His plan. James lifted his eyes to the heavens. ‘ Thank you, my darling Mattie, you set me to rights as you always do .’

Biggs and Johns protested the expense to the master for them to sail in first class berths, but James insisted it was nothing.

The group settled in to pass the few days before the ship set sail.

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

On Monday morning Darcy was working at his desk in the study at Darcy House when Killion delivered the post. As he always did, Darcy separated the missives into two piles, business and personal. One in the latter stack caught his eye. The seal had the crest of the militia in it.

He opened the letter and began to peruse it.

2 November 1811

Colonel’s House

Derbyshire Militia in Meryton

Mr Darcy,

I am taking the liberty of writing to you even though we have a very slight acquaintanceship.

Before I ask a favour, allow me to make my apologies to you. Until recently, I thought myself a good judge of men’s characters, but like many others, I was taken in by Wickham, now a former lieutenant. As Mr Bennet pointed out, rather explicitly, in our first meeting, I took what the then Lieutenant said at face value and never sought any proof.

Thanks to the information gleaned by Mr Bennet, the truth was exposed, the man was cashiered out of the militia, and before I sat to write this letter, he was given 20 lashes with the cat.

He has over ?500 of debts (to the merchants, loans some of my men gave him, and debts of honour combined) for which I intend to send him to King’s Bench or Wood Street Counter debtor’s prisons. In my mood as it is now, whichever one is worse will be my choice.

His debts are why I have written. I request copies of markers you hold for him (I was told you have been in the habit of mitigating his damage to local economies around our country) which I am confident are plentiful. If you agree, it is my intention to make sure his stay in prison will be of long duration. If you hold a significant sum of his vowels, it will ensure he will, in fact, be in a gaol cell for the remainder of his miserable life.

One other thing, he made some assertions about compromise and elopement to one with whom I believe you are familiar. He admitted he made up the former claim. Mr Bennet and I were the only men in my office with the miscreant when he made his vile accusations, so please inform the interested parties we will act with discretion.

Darcy dropped the letter to the desk. “That bloody bastard! If Richard does not kill him for this, I will! The gall of that man to intimate he had compromised Giana, even if he did retract it,” Darcy ranted. He was sorry he had not left with Richard at first light, but it was too late now. He was thankful his cousin had asked for copies of Wickham’s debt markers Darcy held. At least the wastrel had received twenty lashes.

He looked at the letter and all which remained unread was a greeting followed by Colonel Forster’s name.

As worried as he was about word of Giana’s almost elopement reaching the ears of society, Darcy was confident based on what Richard had said of Colonel Forster’s honour that no one would hear of it from him. He suspected Mr Bennet would not spread anything, as long as Mrs Bennet was not made aware of Giana’s folly.

The last thought reminded him that he had no right to criticise the behaviour of others given what his beloved sister would have done had he not arrived in Ramsgate earlier than expected. Yes, Wickham and Mrs Younge had manipulated her, but Giana should have known better. Could it be that rather than telling her she was blameless, honestly speaking to his sister about his disappointment in her choice would assist in her recovery?

Rather than make that decision on his own, Darcy would wait to speak to Richard when he returned from Hertfordshire.

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

Bingley wrote instructions for his solicitor, while also apologising for not being present in person. That way, on Monday morning he was on his way to Netherfield Park even before the dawn lit the sky. His wont was to sleep until the sun was well up each day, but not this day. He wanted to make sure he reached his leased estate as soon as may be and after washing he intended to present himself at Longbourn.

The Hursts would follow a little later in the morning in their own carriage. Louisa had agreed to act as his hostess so he would be able to entertain. Bingley was fully cognisant that everyone in the area, from his servants at Netherfield Park on up, would not repine his younger sister’s absence. He was certain his house would be far more peaceful and the atmosphere without Caroline would be far lighter.

Within an hour of the confrontation on Saturday, Bingley had removed his younger sister from his house. She was in an inn, with her lady’s maid as chaperone, until the solicitor released her dowry to her, which would be later that day. That would break the last tether between them. He had no desire to be around one who could write what she had. They were born of the same parents, but she was no longer his sister.

About halfway through the journey a rest break was taken at the Green Dragon Inn. Bingley had just alighted from his coach and was stretching before he entered when a familiar figure rode into the inn’s courtyard atop his horse.

“Fitzwilliam, well met,” Bingley exclaimed. “Where are you going?”

“Bingley, I had not realised you were travelling to your estate today,” the Colonel boomed as he approached his cousin’s best friend. “I am on my way to Meryton.”

“My estate is two miles from the town, will you not join me in the carriage? It’s much warmer and more comfortable,” Bingley offered. “Besides, I will have someone to speak to other than my valet. If you are in the area overnight, you are invited to have a chamber at my leased estate.”

Even a battle-hardened officer like Richard Fitzwilliam was not averse to travelling in comfort when it was possible. “Thank you, Bingley. That is good of you and I accept,” the Colonel replied as he clapped Bingley on his back.

An hour later, with the Colonel’s stallion, Invictus, on a long tether behind the coach, they were on their way for the final part of the journey to Meryton.

“What brings you to this part of the world?” Bingley inquired not long after they had been back on the road.

“Army business. I need to meet with Colonel Forster,” the Colonel replied honestly. He did not feel Bingley needed all the particulars of his reasons for travelling that morning, at least not at this point. “William tells me you met Forster a few times.”

“I did. Good man that. Pity about his limp. He would not speak of it, but I surmised he was injured in the army,” Bingley revealed.

“Yes, your conjecture is accurate; he used to be in the regulars.” The Colonel did not say more as it was Forster’s story to share if he chose to tell it. “Am I to assume that your early flight back into the wilds of Hertfordshire has something to do with a Miss Bennet?”

Bingley was about to ask how Fitzwilliam knew of Miss Bennet when he remembered Darcy had taken the copy of Caroline’s poison filled letter with him when he had gone to Matlock House. “I assume the countess was suitably outraged at my sister’s vitriol laced lies,” Bingley surmised.

“That is an understatement, my friend. Using Mother’s niece and nephew’s names in her work of fiction ensured Miss Bingley’s permanent ruination, and banishment from polite society,” the Colonel reported. “Tell me about the Bennets.”

It was a pleasure for Bingley to wax eloquent on the virtues of his Miss Bennet, and in between he mentioned the others in passing. Soon enough the coach turned onto the street which ran through the centre of Meryton. The Colonel requested Bingley have his coachman halt the horses. He alighted and took Invictus’s reins from one of Bingley’s footmen and led him towards a cluster of militia officers. As soon as the footmen had taken their positions again, Bingley struck the ceiling so his conveyance would soon cover the two miles to the estate.

Denny was speaking to two other lieutenants when he noticed the officer, a colonel of the regulars approaching him with his horse being led behind him. He cocked his head and the other two joined him in standing to attention and saluting the Colonel whose uniform told them he was in the Royal Dragoons.

Colonel Fitzwilliam returned the salutes. “You may stand at ease, Lieutenants. Where may I find Colonel Forster?” he enquired.

“That is the Colonel’s house,” Denny pointed. “His office is within.”

After inclining his head to the lieutenant who had spoken, Richard Fitzwilliam led his mount across to the other side of the street in the direction the man had indicated. He paid a lad a half crown to walk Invictus to the stables and water him and then brush him down. For that amount, the likes of which the boy had never held, the excited lad promised to take the best care of the stallion.

On Colonel Fitzwilliam entering what according to the sign on the door was the adjutant’s office, the captain behind the desk sprang into a standing position and saluted smartly. “How may I be of service, Sir?” Carter enquired.

“I am here to see your colonel,” Colonel Fitzwilliam declared. “Please inform Colonel Forster that Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam of His Majesty’s…”

Anything else he was about to say was lost thanks to the volume of a booming voice. “Fitzwilliam, what brings you to visit my regiment?” Forster, who had heard the visitor say his name, strode towards his comrade in arms, his hand extended. “Good to see you, come in, come in.” The two shook hands vigorously.

“My reason for calling on you is summed up in one word: Wickham,” Fitzwilliam revealed once Forster’s office door was closed.

Forster put on an evil grin. “So, you are the one who almost caused him to soil himself.” Fitzwilliam looked at his brother colonel with a quizzical look. “Am I correct in saying you are related to Mr Darcy?”

“Indeed. We are cousins and co-guardians of his much younger sister,” Fitzwilliam confirmed.

“In that case, I have much to tell you,” Forster responded.

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

Barely a half hour after arriving at Netherfield Park, Bingley was back in his coach for the short journey to Longbourn. Upon arriving, one of his footmen placed the step and opened the door.

Bingley knocked on the front door, and when it was opened, proffered his card to the butler. “I would like to see Mr Bennet,” he requested.

Hill stood back, allowing the gentleman entrance, and relieved him of his outerwear before showing him to the study. “Mr Bingley to see you, Sir,” the butler intoned before standing back and allowing said man to enter the study. Hill stepped out of the study, pulling the door closed behind him.

“I wondered how soon you would follow the note from Mrs Nichols,” Bennet stated as he stood and offered his guest his hand. He did not miss how nervous the younger man looked. “You may relax, Mr Bingley; you carry no guilt for your sister’s attempts to hurt my eldest daughter. Even without your message, your presence here today would have proved that point. Please sit.” Bennet indicated one of the chairs before his desk.

“I thank you for your generosity of spirit, Mr Bennet,” Bingley replied as he sat.

“Please call me Bennet.”

“And I am Bingley.”

“What is it I may do for you, Bingley?”