Master of Longbourn Chapter 4 - Rewards and Retribution, a pride and prejudice fanfic

Warning – the ending of this chapter is not nice.

~MoL~

Rewards and Retribution

1792

Sir Lewis went to check on his daughter after sending for Lord Metcalf, the local magistrate.

As he quietly entered the room, he found his wife gently bathing Anne's face with a cool cloth, concern written all over Lady Catherine's face. Sir Lewis was touched to see the normally stern and forbidding lady fighting tears as she cared for their daughter.

When he stepped closer to the bed of the feverish girl, Lady Catherine looked up and asked quietly, 'What happened? Aristotle is not normally prone to spooking.'

'George Wickham flung a sharp rock at him,' answered Sir Lewis and proceeded to relate all that he had discovered. After speaking to Fitzwilliam, he had been approached by Mrs Barker, the long-term housekeeper at Rosings. The distraught woman, who loved Anne, informed her master that from an upstairs window she had witnessed Mr Darcy's godson picking something off the ground and flinging it in the direction of the horses, just before Aristotle took off in fright.

'I realise that that boy is jealous of Fitzwilliam, but I cannot conceive of a reason why he would harm Anne. Why would that boy have to gain from doing this?' asked Lady Catherine in confusion.

'I believe that he was trying to spook Fitzwilliam's horse so that I would not discover that he had loosened his saddle girth.'

'Are you certain that whichever groom saddled the horse was not simply careless in fastening the saddle?'

'Jamieson saddled the horse himself,' Sir Lewis replied. He did not bother to mention that the stablemaster was the most meticulous man when it came to safety.

Lady Catherine's eyes widened in shock as she comprehended the implications of her husband's words. 'That murderous little devil. He could have killed my nephew,' she fumed. 'This time I will not allow my brother to shield the boy.'

Mr Darcy and Lady Anne had planned to spend some weeks at Rosings with Fitzwilliam and had brought along George Wickham as company for their son. The family had been at Rosings but a week when a health issue had forced the couple to return to London to consult with a specialist who refused to leave town and his other patients.

Rather than have two active boys underfoot in London, Sir Lewis and Lady Catherine had offered to look after the boys while the Darcy's went to London. The couple now regretted their generosity.

'We are in complete agreement. I have already sent for Lord Metcalf. He should be here within the hour.'

~MoL~

While he waited for the magistrate to arrive, Sir Lewis made his way to the guestroom which housed William Collins.

The young boy had been given a hot bath, the first he could ever remember, and was now tucked into bed wearing one of Fitzwilliam's nightshirts. Next to the bed was a tray with an empty cup which had contained hot chocolate and a plate which still held a few crumbs of some pastry.

William had enjoyed the treats and half believed that he must have drowned and gone to paradise. Nothing in the real world which he knew could be this heavenly. He was warm, clean, fully fed and felt like he was floating on the soft featherbed.

Sir Lewis smiled at the boy and said, 'I am Sir Lewis de Bourgh, and I am told that you are William Collins.'

'Yes, Sir,' William answered with a shy smile.

'I want to thank you for saving my daughter's life. Without you she would surely be dead.'

'How is the young Miss?'

'She has a fever and a rather nasty cough from the pond water, but the doctor thinks she will recover.'

'I'm glad. That she will recover that is. Not that she has a fever and a cough.'

'Yes, thank you. But I would like to reward you for the service you have done my family.'

'There's no need. That bath and that food was wonderful.'

'Well, I disagree with you… about that reward. I get the impression you do not have much of a home…' Sir Lewis trailed off and waited for William's response.

After a while the boy admitted, 'There's only my da and he's not so easy to live with.'

'How would you feel if I found you a place to live where you will be well looked after? It might be a relief for your father if someone else took care of you.'

William tried valiantly not to look hopeful but failed miserably.

Sir Lewis nodded and smiled. 'Yes, I think that would be best. For the next few days, you will stay here and recover,' he said, not specifying from what William should recover. 'In the meantime, I will arrange for a good new home for you and provide you with a future.' He reached out and gently ruffled the boy's hair before leaving William to enjoy the comforts of Rosings.

William decided that if he had not died and gone to heaven, this was definitely the next best place. A he drifted into sleep he wondered briefly what Sir Lewis could have in mind for him.

~MoL~

It was only fifty minutes later that Lord Metcalf arrived at Rosings and was immediately escorted to Sir Lewis's study.

After only the briefest of greetings, Lord Metcalf asked, 'What is this all about. Your note was not clear other than that the matter was urgent and serious.'

'There has been what I believe to be an attempted murder. I believe that my nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy was the intended target, but it was my daughter who nearly lost her life.'

'Your daughter was injured? How is she? What happened?' Lord Metcalf was all astonishment and concern. He had two young daughters himself and unlike many peers, he actually cared about his children.

Sir Lewis once again related all the happenings of the day, finishing with, 'That boy must be stopped. My brother Darcy has coddled him. But I have learnt that Wickham is a superb liar, and he has Darcy believe him over his own flesh and blood.'

'While you have an independent witness to Wickham throwing what was probably a stone, is it possible that he was simply throwing it without malicious intent?' Metcalf asked reasonably.

'I have gone and had a look at Aristotle's injury. That stone was thrown with full force, and I have watched the boys play cricket.' Sir Lewis looked the magistrate in the eye when he said with emphasis, 'Wickham is deadly accurate and while he is not bulky, he has a lot of wiry strength. He is also extremely competitive. He has injured several children who claim that it was deliberate, and they now utterly refuse to play with him.'

'I see. Well, I think I had better speak with everyone and get their statements before speaking to young Wickham.' Lord Metcalf paused and gave Sir Lewis a considering look. 'You are aware that if we establish malicious and premeditated intent, I can have the boy hanged. Are you prepared to go that far?'

Sir Lewis sighed as he grimaced in distaste. 'His actions today could have cost at least one life and he has shown not the slightest remorse. I believe that he is a danger to everyone. He failed today… who is to say that he will not try again.'

'Very well. I will conduct my own investigation and inform you of my findings when I am done.'

Sir Lewis offered Lord Metcalf the use of his study to conduct his interviews. On his way back to Anne's room, he instructed the butler that all staff were to fully cooperate with the magistrate.

~MoL~

Lord Metcalf and his assistants, comprising of his secretary and two constables, checked out Aristotle's wound and then set themselves to interview everyone concerned about the events of the morning, including the doctor regarding the prognosis of Anne de Bourgh's recovery.

He even discovered an additional witness in Bob Brown, the stableboy, who mentioned seeing Wickham supposedly checking the girth of Fitzwilliam's saddle. Bob related that Wickham had said, 'I just wanted to make sure that his saddle is right because Fitzy likes to push his mounts.'

The statement about Fitzwilliam's riding style was contradicted by one of the maids who volunteered the information that she had overheard Wickham daring Master Fitzwilliam to jump the fence of the east field to prove he was not such a coward as he normally rode like a little old lady.

The last witness to be called was George Wickham. But as it was getting late, it was decided to postpone his interview until the next morning.

It also allowed enough time for the presence of crucial witnesses to be arranged.

~MoL~

The boy strode into the study with a confidence and an arrogance which many peers would have envied. He looked around and saw that the magistrate was the only other person in the room.

Most of the walls were covered in bookcases and on the wall opposite the window there was a fireplace which was flanked by a couple of wing-backed chairs and a small table. A screen was placed in front of the second door into the room, which led to the library. The space next to the window, where the light was best, was occupied by a desk and three chairs. Lord Metcalf sat behind the desk and gestured for Wickham to take a seat in one of the two chairs in front of it.

Lord Metcalf explained, 'I wanted to get your point of view about what happened yesterday. Did you do or notice anything which could have caused Sir Lewis' horse to spook and take off the way he did?'

Wickham shifted his in his seat and would not meet the eyes of the magistrate. Eventually he said, 'Not really.'

'What do you mean, not really? Either you did or you did not.'

'Well… I did not want to get Fitzy into trouble, but I saw him pick up a stone and throw it at that horse,' Wickham said in a rush.

Lord Metcalf was amazed at the acting ability of the boy. If he had not heard a different version of the story from an independent witness, he would have been inclined to believe Wickham. Instead of immediately refuting that statement, he asked, 'Why would Master Fitzwilliam do such a thing?'

'Well… I have heard that Lady Catherine has this idea that when they grow up, Fitzwilliam will marry Anne. I suppose he did not like the idea that his aunt was already planning his future and because of that, he wanted to nip this plan in the bud.'

'What are you saying?'

Wickham shrugged carelessly. 'I suppose that Fitzy worked out that if Anne is not about, he won't be able to marry her.'

'You are quite certain that you saw Fitzwilliam Darcy throw that stone?'

'Yes, my lord,' Wickham answered with a dramatic sigh.

'What would you say if I told you that a witness claimed that it was you who threw that stone?'

Wickham sighed again and said in pretended sorrow, 'Fitzy would say anything to make me look bad. He is just jealous that his father likes me better than him.'

'Actually, the witness I mentioned saw the incident from an upstairs window. She saw you pick up something and fling it at the horse Fitzwilliam was to ride, but you missed.'

'I never miss,' Wickham blurted out but immediately caught himself and asked instead, 'But why would I want to throw a stone at that stupid horse?'

'Because Sir Lewis had gone to check the saddle on Fitzwilliam's mount to ensure it was secure. Do you know what he found?'

'Well, I did notice that he tightened the girth before he took off on it after his own horse,' Wickham replied. He thought there was no point in withholding the truth on that point.

'Exactly. And that girth was loose because you had loosened it earlier and you did not want Sir Lewis to find out. That is why you wanted to drive off Fitzwilliam's horse. But it moved at the wrong time, and you hit the other horse instead.'

'Why would you want to accuse me of all that? If the saddle was loose, it was probably because whoever saddled it did not do a proper job.'

'Mr Jamieson, the stablemaster saddled that horse. You are accusing the most meticulous man I know of carelessness.'

'You would take the word of a servant over me? Mr Darcy's godson?' young Wickham blustered, annoyed that for once his charm and apparent innocence did not have the desired effect.

'I am taking the word of a trusted servant who has performed his duties admirably for many years over the conniving son of a servant.'

This time Wickham was honestly puzzled. 'What does conniving mean?'

'It means devious, scheming, deceitful, cunning, manipulative. Or to put it into the simplest terms… a liar. I am certain you can understand that word.'

At last Wickham was getting nervous. He was used to dealing with George Darcy, who always believed him and defended him against all others. He affected a woebegone expression and even managed to squeeze out a few tears. 'It is not fair. Fitzy is always trying to lay the blame on me for things he does. Ask anyone,' he sobbed.

'I did indeed ask many people, and they all agree that you are the one who causes all the mischief and then blames Fitzwilliam. But this time you are out of luck. You have gone too far and will face the consequences of your actions.'

'Mr Darcy will not allow you to harm me in any way,' sneered Wickham, regaining his bravado.

'Mr Darcy is not here and even if he were, why would he defend you when you tried to kill his son?' Metcalf asked coldly and dismissively, his attitude calculated to irritate the boy into throwing caution to the wind.

'I am Mr Darcy's first-born son, but as long as Fitz is around, he cannot give me what is my due,' Wickham blurted out in anger.

'So, you decided to solve the problem for him? You wanted to kill Fitzwilliam Darcy so that you could become the heir to Mr George Darcy of Pemberley?' Metcalf sneered in apparent disbelief.

'Yes! And it would have worked if not for that interfering Sir Lewis.'

'You admit that you tried to kill Fitzwilliam but almost killed Miss Anne de Bourgh instead?'

'What of it? If you tell Mr Darcy what I said, I will deny it and he will believe me. He always does.'

Lord Metcalf ignored Wickham's outburst, instead he asked, 'Have you heard enough, gentlemen?' causing Wickham to give him a puzzled look.

'We have indeed,' said George Darcy as he stepped around the screen which had hidden him as well as Sir Lewis, the two constables from the area, Metcalf's secretary, and three other local landowners.

George Darcy, who had listened in the library in disbelief and growing nausea was white as a sheet. He had been horrified by the revelations and had to be physically restrained by Sir Lewis de Bourgh during the interview. He now looked at his young protégé with disgust. 'You are not my son. I do not know who your father is, but it most certainly is not me. My only son is Fitzwilliam Darcy. He is an honourable young man and the only one worthy of being my heir.'

Wickham looked horror-stricken and for once at a loss for words as Darcy turned to Metcalf. 'My Lord, I am well satisfied to leave the fate of this miscreant in your hands.' He bowed and exited the study.

'Very well.' Metcalf looked at the other men who all nodded.

The magistrate turned back to the boy who still looked as if he had been hit with a cricket bat. 'George Wickham, on the charges of attempted murder and the serious injury of Miss Anne de Bourgh, I find you guilty. You will be taken to a place of execution… to hang.'

George Wickham screamed in disbelief, 'NO!'

~MoL~