Page 45 of Master of Netherfield
They shared a smile as William spooned more coffee into his father’s mouth.
“You were correct about George Wickham,” his father admitted. “He should not have been a parson. It cost me thousand pounds to clean up his mess.”
William looked surprized at the sum named. “That is substantial, sir.”
“His dalliances required two dowries for local girls for farmers in Derby and Nottingham to take them as brides while they were increasing with another man’s child.”
“A thousand pounds?” the son asked with growing surprize.
“No, only fifty pounds for each dowry but Wickham had debts of one hundred pounds, and I gave the bishop eight hundred pounds to bring astable parson to Kympton. The bishop sent a man with a large family who is unlikely to lift the skirts of the daughters of his parishioners.”
“Father...” William tried to speak and tell his father that it did not matter.
“We argued,” Mr Darcy admitted sadly.
“With whom did you argue Father?” William asked.
“I argued with Wickham. I was very angry with him, and he was not repentant in the least. I was shouting at him when suddenly I could not breathe,” Mr Darcy admitted. “I awoke only after the physician had been called and I was in this bed.”
“Wickham should not have argued with you father.”
“He came to the house expecting my help with the bishop. Of course, there was nothing I could do for him or should have done. The evidence was too damning with two fathers–good tenants–testifying against him with the bishop.”
William remained silent but sat back for a moment; his father was still angry at Wickham. “He did not understand why I could have mistresses and natural children without penalty, but he could not. When I explained that I am placed much higher but still had to pay the cost, he demanded that I assist him.”
From his sick bed, George Darcy said, “The boy thought he was my natural child. I would never have dishonoured his father with his mother.”
“Father do not distress yourself,” William said. “It will be morning soon and Georgiana will be here today.
“I know you do not approve of my life,” George said. “I have told myself that it does not signify but here at the end. I find myself wanting your forgiveness.”
William took his father’s hands and said, “There is nothing to forgive. You have been the best father you could. I have learned everything you taught me.”
“Soon now... soon,” George Darcy murmured as he fell asleep again.
**++**
At mid-morning, Mr Darcy was awake and talkative. “Tell me of Georgiana.”
“She grows tall, and she is very happy in Hertfordshire with her friends.”
“And how are your friends?”
“My friends, sir? Do you mean Mr Bingley?”
“The Bennets,” replied Mr Darcy. “You are thick with Mr Bennet when it comes to estate management. Your improvements at your estate have raised the income to what? Four thousand?”
“Over five thousand last year,” William admitted proudly. “I have taken great interest in the estates of my neighbours, and we have increased every income in Meryton.”
“Farmer George would be proud of you,” Mr Darcy said referring to the King’s interest in his farms and crops.
William nodded, “His Majesty is a farmer–as should be all Englishmen of note.”
Mr Darcy laughed once followed by a fit of coughing. “Now, how is the eldest girl turning out? A beautiful face and good horsewoman I believe.”
Again, his son nodded, “Miss Bennet is talented in all matters with horses. She rides well and she cares for the animals as well. She is called on to attend most births in the stables now for she has a way with the mares and foals.”
“Would she make you a suitable wife?”
