6. Chapter 5:Do not forsake your friend

Ch 5: Do not forsake your friend and the friend of your father

Darcy sighed, pacing his room and tugging at his cravat. Anders had already scolded him for it just minutes before. Who decided that a cravat was a good idea? He pulled at the offending garment once more.

Glancing in the mirror, he sighed and straightened the white silk. It's my own fault, really. Why was I such a fool to allow Wickham to invite himself to dinner tonight? The Coopertons do not look upon him with favor. Two maids they lost to his antics! Edwards is no fan of him either since he was Bradley's greatest rival for the living. Heavily he fell into a chair by the fireplace.

"That man always seems to get what he wants," he muttered, reaching for the poker. "He knows just how to push and pull and come out with what he wants in the end. What does he want this time?" Distractedly, Darcy poked at the fire, watching the sparks rise. It's money of course. What else has he ever really wanted? It has always come down to money. How many times as boys here or at school did he come to me, making it look like he wanted something else but at the end of it all, he stood with his hand out waiting for it to be filled? Angrily he tossed the poker aside.

He rose to pace once more, stretching his arms, hands behind his neck. He must be in debt to levy such a demand. If he had time he'd be more subtle, like before. No, there must be outside pressure behind him. Perhaps he is anticipating a writ of debt. He must have lost badly at gaming and word of his ruin got to the tradesmen. He's trying to stay out of the spunging house. Darcy shook his head in disgust.

His father had instilled within him a distaste for the dangers of gambling. Looking out the window over the lands of his estate he remembered his father's words. Son, we depend on the land for our survival. Is that not gamble enough? Winds, rains, storms, fires, drought. We can predict these no more than the roll of the dice, the deal of the cards. You have seen the devastation that any of those can bring. The gambling table can bring the same. Is it not enough to have one such source of risk in our lives? Why would a wise Master go looking for more?

"Why indeed Father?" Darcy whispered, "Why indeed? I wonder if Bradley taught you that." He smiled to himself. "I'm not so sure I really understood you then. I thought I did. I thought you were talking about losing our good name, or standing among the Ton. But you were thinking about so much more, weren't you Father? You understood how many lives depended on you. You knew you would be gambling with their lives not just your own. I wonder if you really knew about Wickham's follies." Sighing deeply, he walked past the mirror once more to straighten the damage to his valet's careful work. "What would you say about your favorite's debts of honor?"

I cannot keep my guests waiting any longer. Bingley and his sister must be in the drawing room by now. I cannot neglect them. But his sister! With a shrug, he left his room.

To his surprise, the drawing room was empty when Darcy arrived. He took a turn about the empty room, taking a moment to notice the meticulous care his staff took in making sure each object in the neatly appointed room was in place and perfectly free from dust and disorder. I must remember to give Mrs. Reynolds my compliments. It is so easy to take her efforts for granted. The Master of Pemberley's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of his house guests.

"Mr. Darcy!" Caroline gushed as she stepped into the large room. Her pale peach silk gown rustled as she walked, while the feathers on her turban bobbed slightly.

"Good evening Darcy!" Bingley exclaimed over her shoulder, looking as though he was driving her ahead of him.

Darcy had to choke back his laughter as the image of a hound puppy flushing a quail from the underbrush came to mind. "Good evening," he choked, looking away as he schooled his features into a more proper expression. "I trust you found your rooms acceptable?"

"Acceptable? You are indeed too modest, Mr. Darcy." Suddenly Caroline was standing much too close to the gentleman. "I can hardly think of when I have seen finer rooms…"

"Yes, yes! My sister is quite correct, old friend!" Bingley interrupted with eager excitement. "The rooms are quite fine! Quite. And the prospect from the windows, I have never seen such landscapes!"

The young gentleman could hardly restrain his smile. It is good to hear that others see Pemberley as I do. "I am glad you find them to your liking. How did you find the tour, Miss Bingley?" He inclined his head toward his guest even as he stepped back from her. What is that scent? Orange blossom water perhaps? Perhaps Mrs. Reynolds can find out for me. It is quite…overpowering…unpleasant for certain. Whatever it is, no lady who inhabits Pemberley will wear it! He took a step closer to the window, hoping for a draft to drive away the fragrance.

"However do you not get lost within these walls?" Bingley wondered aloud, glancing about the room. "I made sure to count the doors to make sure I could find my way back to my rooms!"

The two young men laughed, but Caroline stood aghast. "Charles how can you say such a thing?" She demanded with a furious blush.

"Darcy here knows well my penchant for misdirection. Remember when…" Bingley smiled widely, laughing gamely at his own foible.

"When you dragged me into town on the promise of finding that rare book seller?" the dark haired man finished for his friend, his dark brows rising.

"Indeed! We ended up…" He glanced at his sister, reconsidering. "Ah…we…ah…" A bright blush lit his pale cheeks.

"Quite lost and in unexpected places." Darcy finished smoothly. You are quite right, my friend, this is not a story for a lady to hear, not even your sister.

A footman appeared in the doorway. "Sir. Mr. Wickham." The burly man stepped aside to reveal the neatly dressed, smiling son of Old Wickham.

Swallowing hard, Darcy felt his cravat binding his throat. The sense of being strangled in his own drawing room only added to his irritation. Suddenly he remembered his role as host. "Mr. and Miss Bingley, may I present Mr. George Wickham."

Bingley's unruly eyebrows shot up as he cast a surprised glance at his friend. I remember Wickham from school. You could hardly tolerate his company. Why did you invite him tonight? It isn't like you to rub in the fact that you did not give him the living that Bradley has now. What is going on here?

"Miss Bingley," Wickham stepped forward eagerly, taking her proffered hand and bowing over it. "How lovely that Darcy has taken to entertaining such enchanting guests. I have never seen him exhibit such good taste in the past!"

Caroline blushed at the compliment. "You are too kind, Mr. Wickham." She fluttered her eyes at the attractive newcomer. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is all mine indeed," Wickham glanced up at Bingley. "Is this charming young lady your younger sister?"

Caroline giggled girlishly.

"No. She is my elder sister. But since our father's death, she is under my protection." Feeling suddenly defensive, he took her arm in his. His blue eyes narrowed slightly as he attempted to glare.

"Of course! How foolish of me, Miss Bingley!"

Darcy cleared his throat brusquely, breaking Wickham's smooth approach.

"And how is it that you know Mr. Darcy, Mr. Wickham? " Caroline asked innocently. "Do you have a nearby estate?" Perhaps Pemberley is not the only estate in need of a mistress in this neighborhood.

"We grew up together…" Wickham began carefully.

"He is the son of my father's most trusted steward, Miss Bingley," Darcy swiftly cut it. I see the game you are trying to play, Wickham, and I will not support such wiles under my roof.

Wickham looked up sharply, a brief flash of hatred in his eyes. Quickly he reigned himself in. "Alas that is true, Miss Bingley. The shameful truth of my birth is out." He hung his head with affected modesty.

"There is no shame in that! Our own father was in trade!" The normally calm young man bristled at the insinuation. Don't feed Caroline's distaste for her own roots. It's already bad enough now.

"And he wished to see better for his children," Caroline sharply corrected. "That is why you are here, to learn to manage the estate you will purchase. Soon." Green eyes narrowing, she turned back to the handsome steward's son. "Are you in the market for an estate of your own, Mr. Wickham?" Her implication was clear.

"I am afraid not, Miss Bingley," he smiled, shaking his head ruefully. "My father had no riches to leave me. I am destined to work for my fortune. Although I would have liked to take orders and settle in the living old Mr. Darcy promised his favorite godson." He cast an accusing look at Darcy.

The gentleman drew breath to retort, but was cut off by the arrival of his footman. "Sir, Mr. and Mrs. Cooperton, Mr. and Miss Lackley." As the servant stepped aside, he revealed two couples standing, awaiting entrance.

Darcy quickly strode toward his guests. "Welcome, I am so glad to see you have arrived." He ushered them in. "Cooperton, Mrs. Cooperton." He shook the gentleman's hand and bowed over the lady's. "Lackley, Miss Lackley." He repeated his greeting before turning to those already in the drawing room. "Mr. and Miss Bingley, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Cooperton and Mr. and Miss Lackley. The Coopertons and the Lackleys are neighbors on adjacent estates." With a sigh, he added, "Mr. and Miss Lackley, this is Mr. Wickham." Immediately Darcy noticed the mercenary glance Wickham gave the younger woman. "He was a long time resident at Pemberley, the son of my late father's valued steward."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Wickham said through gritted teeth, stepping up to take the lady's hand. What has happened to Darcy? He has never treated me like this before? How dare he! I have done nothing to warrant such disrespect!

I speak only the truth, Wickham. Bradley might not approve my method, but in your case, the assumptions they are making from your introduction are quite correct. I need to protect these ladies from the games you would seek to play with them. Lackley has no idea that he needs to protect his sister from your seductions. To fail to protect them when I know what you are would be a grievous thing indeed.*

An awkward silence followed, broken finally by Cooperton. Extending his hand toward Bingley, he said, "So, how do you know Darcy, sir?"

"We went to Cambridge together, sir. He took me under his wing and helped me make my way," Bingley boasted on his friend.

Caroline shot him a warning glance. It will not do Charles! Do not cast yourself in such a light! We should be working to impress these people, can you not see that? Stop calling attention to your many failings. It is painful enough that I must endure them.

"He is his father's son!" Cooperton laughed a warm, friendly laugh, his ample girth shaking with it. "Always seeking to raise up the younger men. A Darcy is indeed a faithful friend."

"So you knew the late Mr. Darcy?" Lackley asked carefully. The pale man's reddish blond hair fell across his face and he shook his head to remove it from his eyes, a look of genuine interest on his pleasant face.

"We were neighbors for many years, Lackley. He, Nathan King, the former owner of your estate, Edwards and I, we were quite close really." A wistful smile crossed his face. "Those were good days. You don't really know the value of a good neighbor until the storms come."

"Dear Anne and sweet Marian," Mrs. Cooperton sighed, "they were true ladies. So elegant! But they knew every need on all the estates. Not a sick child ever missed their notice. Such dear, dear friends." She retrieved a handkerchief to dab at her moist eyes. "I miss them so."

Darcy blushed at the kind references to his parents. "Was it not the King's estate…"

"Yes, it was Darcy," Cooperton nodded, turning again to Lackley. "About twenty years ago, there was a devastating fire on your estate. Destroyed much of the manor house, the main barn and a few of the out buildings."

"What an awful thing it was! They lost several servants in the fire, and their two youngest children!" Mrs. Cooperton choked back tears. "Poor Marian was devastated! But your father," she looked warmly at the young gentleman "and Mr. Bradley! They were there almost as soon as the alarm was raised. If I remember correctly, they went in themselves and carried out two of the children and their nursery maids."

"Yes we did," Bradley's somber voice came from the doorway.

"Sir." The footman blushed at the unannounced intrusion. "Mr. Edwards and Reverend Bradley." The two older men walked quietly into the room.

Darcy strode quickly to meet them. "It is good to see you," he exclaimed, extending his hand to each in turn. "Mr. Bingley , Miss Bingley. may I present. Mr. Edwards and Reverend. Bradley,

"My pleasure, Miss Bingley." Edwards took her hand and bowed his grey head over it. "Darcy has spoken often of you, Mr. Bingley." He extended his hand to shake Bingley's.

"Mr. Cooperton was just telling us the story of the fire on our estate," Miss Lackley explained shyly, a light flush on her cheeks. Her pretty blonde hair was swept up in a style fitting a young woman just now out in society, though a single curl escaped to grace the nape of her neck.

"Yes, I remember that," Edwards shook his head. "What a tragedy. Would have been much worse were it not for you and Darcy," he clapped his friend on the shoulder. "You never would take credit for saving those young ones."

Bradley shrugged modestly. "It was by the grace of the Good Lord alone, my friend. You know that."

Caroline stood at a slight distance taking in the scene. Why would Darcy invite such a man into his company, much less seek to honor him? Really! His suit is dreadfully out of fashion. He has nothing to recommend his person. He has been a curate for how many years? He must be poor as the proverbial church mouse. Even the living cannot possibly be more than six hundred a year. I cannot see why the Master of an estate like Pemberley would subject himself to such company. Were I mistress here, I would never consent to entertain such people. I must make Charles understand that when I am mistress over his home.

"The Good Lord's grace and the strong backs of two good friends," Edwards countered. Looking warmly at Cooperton, he added, "Those were some dark days for us all. To lose children in such a cruel way!"

Sighing, Bradley agreed. "They were, but we all saw each other through them and more. It is the greatest blessing to have friends to help you up when you are down. I pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up.**"

"We were more brothers than friends, were we not? Born for adversity+, I believe you would say, vicar." Edwards winked at his long time friends.

Across the room Wickham rolled his eyes.

"It seems you do not agree, Mr. Wickham," Cooperton challenged, noticing the young man's distain. Slowly he walked toward him, the group parting to give him way.A brief look of alarm crossed his features. Wickham's dark eyes danced across the room as if assessing possible escape routes. "I would not argue with your far greater experience, sir." He licked his lips a little anxiously. "I have just found in my acquaintance that such friends are quite rare indeed."

"That I can quite believe," Cooperton muttered under his breath. Do not think I have for a moment forgotten what you are, young Wickham. You can be certain that I will not allow you to repeat your past in this neighborhood. I wish Darcy had the backbone to deny you this night. Your company is an embarrassment here.

"Indeed they are, Mr. Wickham," Bradley quickly agreed. "But let us not dwell on such thorny matters now. Before dinner is not the time for difficult conversations." Striding toward Bingley, he offered his hand, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Bingley."

"Indeed it is, Reverend Bradley. Darcy here has spoken so much of you. I feel as if I know you already!" The younger man pumped the vicar's hand vigorously. "He has shared much of your wisdom with me and I am a better man for it."

A wry smile lifted Bradley's lips. "My reputation precedes me, it seems." He laughed gently.

"Which is why we are here to honor you tonight, Reverend," Darcy warmly clapped the vicar's shoulder.

Blushing, Bradley sought to change the subject. "What did you decide about your sister? Will she join us tonight?"

"Given the occasion and the company," Darcy hesitated a moment, "I thought it would be appropriate to allow her to join us."

"I'm am glad, sir. Thank you. It seems far too rare a thing that I am able to keep her company."

"I gave Mrs. Reynolds instructions to see her sent down as soon as we were all assembled. She should be here…ah, there she is now. Excuse me," Darcy quickly made his way to the doorway to greet his sister.

"Good evening, brother," Georgiana looked up shyly, a flush of excitement brightening her cheeks.

"You are very pretty tonight, Georgiana," he smiled down a little nervously. I hope I'm making the right decision here. She looks like such a young woman tonight. I don't like the way Wickham was looking at Miss Lackley and Miss Bingley. If he ever looks at her that way I will call him out. I hate for my sister to keep company with him. But surely he would not consider such a thing. He looks on her too much as a sister. Doesn't he? A dark look crossed his face as he considered this new thought. Perhaps she should not attend tonight. Her dowry is certainly as attractive as Miss Bingley's or Miss Lackley's! Why did I never see this? No, she will not… He sighed as she blinked up at him in eager anticipation. But to tell you' no' now would break your heart, would it not? I will let you have your evening. But I will see you both watched very closely. You will not fall prey to him. Taking her arm, he quietly led her into the room.

As she was not officially out, he did not announce her to his guests, but rather took her demurely into the room. Since she knew the rest of his guests he brought her to them only briefly, then took her directly to Miss Bingley. "Miss Bingley, may I present my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy."

Georgiana curtseyed prettily. "I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Bingley."

Returning the gesture, Caroline replied, "I am delighted to meet you, Miss Darcy." Such a young thing! Poor Darcy saddled with such a burden. He cannot possibly know what to do with such a young girl. She should be away at school. I must find a way to suggest that to him directly. He definitely needs a lady here to help guide his dear sister.

"I am so excited to see that your brother has allowed you to join us tonight," Miss Lackley gushed, quickly making her way to Georgiana's side.

"I am as well." The beaming girl replied.

Entwining her arm in Georgiana's, Miss Lackley led her slightly away from her brother. "I am so happy you are to join us!" she whispered. "I am so overwhelmed by this company. I feel so much better with you here, even if you are not yet out!"

Georgiana giggled softly. "Oh Rebecca!" She covered her mouth with a delicately gloved hand. "I would be so nervous now except to know that I have such a good friend here with me!"

"I do hope your brother allows us to sit close at dinner…" Miss Lackley glanced nervously back at Darcy.

"He has! He is so good to me! Mrs. Reynolds took pity on me and told me he had given her instructions to seat us together so I would not feel so uncomfortable. He is too good to me," the younger girl whispered back. She glanced up to see Wickham standing rather alone in the far corner of the room and sighed.

"Why do you sigh for him? He is a steward's son!"

"But my brother has treated him so cruelly! I do not understand. My brother is always so good to me, how can he be so unkind to poor George?" Georgiana's fair brow knit in distress.

"My dear friend, I think perhaps there are some things I must share with you," Rebecca glanced over her shoulder wondering if this was the time and place for this conversation.

"Shall we adjourn to the dining room?" Darcy announced. He stepped over to the two young ladies, taking his sister's arm again and leading his guests to their meal.

*JAS 4:17**ECC 4:10+PR 17:17