Page 4 of Master of Netherfield
“Very good sir,” Barnes said. “And I have some very good port from Portugal. Wellington and his men have driven the French out and trade with the faraway kingdom has begun again.”
“Thank you but not today. I should like a bottle of ink, however. There are a great many letters that I must write, and I shall empty my inkwell for certain.”
“And paper sir?”
“Yes, a small weight of paper as well with a few fingers of your best sealing wax.”
“Very good sir,” Mr Barnes said as he stepped away to gather William’s requested items. The young man joined his sister at the counter where she held the new doll, a beautiful lady with dark brownhair in a green gown though her bonnet was off and in Mrs Barnes’ hand.
“Brother, she is ever so lovely! May I take her home please?”
William bent over to examine the doll, but he also grinned and said, “I am certain she will be welcomed among your choir in the nursery this afternoon.”
He turned to the shelves of toys and noticed a child’s tea set. “Georgiana, since you have so many dollies and they grow jealous, perhaps they will welcome this new friend if she comes with a gift for everyone. Shall we also purchase the tea set for her to present to the other dolls?”
“Oh yes, brother! Thank you! Now all the dollies will be glad to have their new friend.”
**++**
With their purchases wrapped in paper, and the doll sitting beside Georgiana on the carriage seat, his sister told the doll about their rooms and the other dolls that waited to meet her. William smiled indulgently as the driver turned the carriage back toward the estate.
During the ride home, his thoughts turned toward business and the matters of the estate though eventually, he remembered his short and uncomfortable conversation with Wickham.
Seeing Georgiana back to nursery and returned to the charge of Nanny Brice once again, William changed clothes, went to the stables to select a horse and then spent two hours on a long ride. Any meeting with Wickham set his teeth on edge and a ride to the far pastures allowed him to dissipate his frustrations.
Late in the afternoon, as he returned to the house from the stables, William reflected on the future and what he wanted–something better for his sister seemed necessary, a home and a family of his own someday. Could Pemberley ever be a home again?
‘Perhaps this time in Hertfordshire will be good for us all.’
Above stairs, he found a hot bath waiting as Harris laid William’s clothing for supper with his father. Out of his dirty clothing, bathed and refreshed, William waited as his valet began to dress him. Instantly aware that something bothered his valet, at the appropriate moment he asked, “It must be a tremendous discovery to distract you so Harris. Will you share it with me?”
The valet paused for a moment before beginning his story. “Sir, your father has taken a new mistress, a lady introduced in Lambton as a widow named Mrs Murray.”
“Where is she? Here in the house?” William asked concerned for his sister and dread of a meeting over the dining room table at supper.
“No sir,” Harris replied. “Below stairs, the servants speculate that she is in residence in a house the master owns on the far side of the village. He goes there every day and remains several nights each week.”
“And once I am gone to Hertfordshire, he can bring her here.”
The valet shook his head. “The rector at Lambton and Kympton would protest her presence in the house with your young sister in residence, sir.”
Darcy frowned and Harris turned away to not embarrass his employer.
“So, Father needs George invested at Kympton for more reasons than I knew.”
He considered his plan to ask for Georgiana’s visit and grimaced as he decided, “I shall bring Georgiana to Hertfordshire and keep her with me permanently.”
Supper was a pleasant, informal affair with just father and son in attendance. Mrs Reynolds and the cook took special care to include all of Master William’s favourite dishes for his welcome home supper. They discussed the spring weather, planting and how well the herds of sheep looked as they waited to be sheered in the coming days.
“I could remain through the sheering Father,” William offered. “I can work with the shepherds driving the flock to the grange where the shearers wait.”
“That will not be necessary,” George told his son, dismissing the notion. “Pack your trunks, select some horses from the stable, and take possession of Netherfield. Life is too short to wait on others to complete some task or other.”
“I took Georgiana into Lambton today and I decided to ask your permission for her to come and stay with me in Hertfordshire. Allow me to get settled, establish the kitchens to my liking and then I should like to send for my sister.”
George seemed to consider his son’s offer for a full minute before he asked, “How long would you keep your sister?”
William tilted his head to one side, a mannerism of his mother that George Darcy recognized instantly; his son was dealing with something difficult.
