Fitzwilliam Darcy, Fugitive Read online

  Fitzwilliam Darcy, Fugitive

  Melanie Schertz

  Copyright © 2017 Melanie Schertz

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

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  DEDICATION

  I dedicate this book to my family. Whether blood, by choice, human or 4 pawed, you are all precious to me. I would not have the amazing life I do if not for all of you. I love you all and am grateful for your support.

  This is a work of fiction. Characters, places and events are either the imagination of the author or have been altered to fit the story. Any similarity to persons, living or dead are unintentional;.

  The story is the copywrite of the author and cannot be duplicated in part or whole, without permission of the author.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to acknowledge the many people behind the scene as I put this book together. Kay Tanner in England, helping with information and research, as well as proofing my stories and allowing me to use some of her amazing photos (the cover of this book is one of Kay’s photos). Pat Weston, for all the work she has done in editing my books. Gianna Thomas and Cheryl Smith for their first time being Betas for me. Thank you, all of you.

  I am grateful for Jane Austen’s amazing characters and the stories she left to the world. Her work has touched so many lives for over 200 years, and has opened the lives of many.

  Thank you to all of my friends for your support and encouragement. You have brought so much joy to my life.

  Thank you to Wikipedia for your work which helps me in researching information to make my stories better.

  Chapter 1

  “What have you done?” Fitzwilliam Darcy could not believe his eyes. Before him was a scene out of nightmares. He had been requested to come to a guest room on the fourth floor of his father’s manor house at Pemberley, the family estate. Arriving at the guest room, he discovered the son of his father’s former steward, George Wickham. Due to his admiration of the late Mr Wickham, Gerald Darcy had taken the role of godfather to the young Wickham, even sponsoring him in school and at university. It was mistakenly believed that George Wickham was the natural son of Gerald, for why else would the gentleman send the boy to school, alongside his heir?

  George Wickham was evil, pure evil. But he was also a smooth-talking con artist, putting on a show for anyone he could potentially use for his own purposes. While at university, he spent more time gambling, drinking and womanizing, than actually going to classes. And he had a penchant for shopping and charging everything to the Darcy accounts. To fool everyone into believing he belonged with the sons of the elite of England, Wickham insisted in dressing to the nines and to have all the trimmings to make him appear he was their equal. When he heard rumors of people’s belief that he was Gerald Darcy’s blood, Wickham had not corrected the belief and had even begun to convince himself that he was of the Darcy blood line. This made him resent Fitzwilliam, as Wickham was nearly a year older than Fitzwilliam. He felt that he should be Gerald Darcy’s heir, believing himself the first born. And Wickham wanted to remove this obstacle from his path to inheriting Pemberley.

  In his attempt to remove his nemesis, Wickham had planted the seed of doubt in the mind of Gerald Darcy, as to Fitzwilliam’s behavior. Since Gerald’s wife, Lady Anne, had died ten years prior, Gerald had been deeply sorrowed. Spending time with his children was difficult, as Fitzwilliam had his mother’s personality, while Lady Anne’s appearance was reborn in their daughter, Georgiana. The loss of his beloved Anne could only be alleviated by the light and fun nature of the young Wickham. Wickham’s father had been dead for three years, and Gerald missed his steward, who was also a dear friend. So, it was not surprising that he wished to spend time with the son.

  Fitzwilliam knew how much pain his father would suffer if he knew the truth about Wickham. Not wishing to cause his father further pain, Fitzwilliam covered for the scoundrel, even finding homes for two children that Wickham had sired, not to mention paying for his gambling and shopping debts from Fitzwilliam’s own pin money. He would do all in his power to protect his father, even taking the blame for things Wickham had done.

  But today, things had come to a complete and sudden end. This was the day that Fitzwilliam would refuse to cover Wickham’s crimes.

  On the floor of the guest room, a young maid was lying still, no breath came from her body. Blood appeared to cover the side of her head, though a wound was not visible. Her eyes were wide open, as if in terror, staring off into space. Beside her body was a stone, carved in the shape of a turtle. Fitzwilliam knew the stone carving well. His mother had given it to him when he was only a boy. There was blood on the stone, as well as marks which appeared to be from the fingers of the person who had used it as a weapon, striking down an innocent girl.

  “I did nothing, Fitz. It appears that you were the culprit, as your turtle is there, beside her. Why would your treasure be there if you had nothing to do with the murder?” Wickham sneered at the one person he despised more than anyone else. “You must have murdered her in a lovers’ dispute. After all, you have been bedding her for months now. And she carries your child inside her.”

  “No one will believe your lies, Wickham. Not even my father will be able to assist you this time.”

  “Oh, they will believe what I tell them. And you will be blamed for the murder. I have been planning this for quite some time. Your father knows of your proclivities, and he is at quite a loss as to where he went wrong in your upbringing. He is also aware of your bastard son who lives in York. Such news broke his heart.”

  “I have no bastard child, as you well know. The only child in York I know of is the one of your seed, born to the girl who worked in the dining hall at the university, whom you had seduced. You will not put your foul deeds on my shoulders. My father will know the truth, all that I have kept hidden from him.”

  “He will not believe you, Fitzwilliam. And I have planned my scheme well. You will hang for this murder. And after you are gone, your father will acknowledge me as his rightful son and heir.”

  Fitzwilliam was shocked. He could not believe what he was hearing. “You are not my brother, Wickham. You are the child of Amos and Beatrice Wickham. What could make you think that you would ever be my father’s heir?”

  “I am a Darcy. Why else would I have been sent to school along with you? Father could not acknowledge me, but he has done all he could to care for my future. And I am the elder, therefore I am rightfully the heir. With you out of the way, Father will be able to claim me and I will inherit Pemberley.”

  “You are mad, Wickham. Absolutely mad. Your father died, as did your mother. My father was fond of your parents, and he is your godfather. It is due to his fondness for the devotion your father showed is the reason you were given an education. Mr Wickham was a close friend of my father. But you are not of Darcy blood. And you will be the one to hang from the gallows for your crime.”

  “No, I am a Darcy. And this girl’s death is on your head. If you had never been born, Father would have claimed me sooner. It is your fault that I have not been given all that I am due. Your birth robbed me of my rightful place, and I will not stop until I rid myself of you permanently.” Wickham squatted beside the body of the maid, closing her lifeless eyes. As he stood, he lunged at Fitzwilliam, his fist nearly connecting with Fitzwilliam’s cheek.

  Only the skills Fitzwilliam had gained, from years of training and practice with the sword, could make him agile enough to move before being struck. He stepped sideways, and Wickham’s body continued past him, the momentum carrying the furious Wickham forward, stumbling as he began to fall. Wickham struck his head on the floor, knocking him unconscious. Fitzwilliam checked the other man for si
gns of life, and, after reassuring himself of Wickham being alive, Fitzwilliam looked back at the body of the maid. How would he be able to convince his father that he was innocent? Was Wickham correct? Would Gerald Darcy take the word of the scoundrel, allowing his son to take the blame for the murder? Deep inside, Fitzwilliam knew the truth. He knew that, in protecting his father from Wickham’s evil, Fitzwilliam had allowed his father to believe any tale the despicable young man told. He would have to leave his home. He would have to flee, find somewhere to hide, while he gathered proof of his innocence in all the charges laid at his feet.

  Within an hour’s time, and in the cover of darkness, Fitzwilliam left Pemberley, and Derbyshire, behind him.

  ~~ ** ~~

  The following morning, Gerald Darcy was found in his study, staring out the window, when there was a rap on his door. Darcy did not move, making no acknowledgment of the sound. After another rapping, the door opened, and in walked Lord Matlock, Henry Fitzwilliam, the brother of the late Lady Anne Darcy.

  “I received your message, Gerald. What has happened? Why was I summoned here so early in the day?” Lord Matlock inquired, walking over to one of the chairs which were placed in front of the grand desk which had belonged to Darcy’s grandfather.

  “Henry, forgive me, I would have preferred not to call you for what has happened, but I fear I am at my wits end to determine what to do in the situation in which I am now faced.” Darcy moved towards his chair, yet motioned towards the sideboard. “You had best pour yourself a glass of courage, as you will need it when you learn of what has happened.”

  “It is far too early in the day to resort to the bottle, Gerald. What could be so terrible as to require such?”

  “My son has murdered a young maid.” Darcy said, leaning forward in his chair, placing his elbows on the top of the desk, and his face rested on the palms of his hands.

  Lord Matlock was shocked. “I do not believe William capable of such behavior. Where did you learn of this nonsense?”

  “A witness to the crime. George Wickham found William and the girl together in one of the guest rooms. He saw William as he bludgeoned the girl’s head with the stone turtle my wife gave our son for his ninth birthday.”

  “What does William have to say with regards to this matter? Certainly, he has denied the accusations. I refuse to believe this. Why would William take such an item to a guest room to meet with a maid? That is highly illogical.” Lord Matlock was skeptical. He had never understood the fondness his brother in law held for the young man, and Lord Matlock’s two sons, Anthony and Richard, had informed him of Wickham’s true nature over the years.

  “I thought the same, when I saw it beside the body. It was there, covered in blood from the poor girl’s head. George told me that he believed William was planning to give the carving as a gift to the girl, as she was carrying his child inside her. It was George’s belief that the girl was of the belief of becoming Mrs Darcy, and there was a quarrel. Dear God, what am I to do? How do I send for the magistrate and constable, knowing it will likely lead to my son’s death on the gallows?”

  “What has William stated?”

  “My son has disappeared. He knocked George unconscious and fled. No one can find him on the estate. Does that not speak to his guilt? Why else would he run from the situation? If he were innocent of all of the accusations, he would have stayed here and refuted everything.”

  “Gerald, I cannot believe your son being guilty of such behavior, and I would not hold George Wickham in such high regard. My sons have told me of many things William has suffered over the years, at the hands of that scoundrel. It would not surprise me to learn that Wickham has set this whole thing in motion, attempting to make you believe the worst of William.”

  “There would be no reason for George to lie to me. He has been my companion in my times of sorrow since Anne died. And it is not the first sin my son has committed. From what I have learned, William has had gambling debts and…and has a bastard child in York. My son is not a good man, and I have not attempted to correct his behavior. I am just as guilty of the maid’s death, for had I taken the time to correct his behavior, this would never have happened.”

  The earl of Matlock shook his head. He believed in his nephew’s innocence, for his younger son was close to William. And if he were to believe Richard’s statements, Fitzwilliam Darcy had determined long ago to save himself for when he married. Lord Matlock’s sons had teased their cousin for his choice, especially when they would invite him to accompany them to a brothel. As far as they knew, William had remained true to his decision. That Gerald did not know such about his own son was surprising.

  “I believe a search needs to be conducted to locate William. Until we know what he has to say, we cannot believe he is guilty of such a heinous crime.”

  “There are too many who are aware of the maid’s death, and that Wickham was found unconscious on the floor of the room. Too many know what George declared, as he did so in front of many of the staff. I must send for the constable and magistrate. If I do not, it will appear I am covering up for my son. No, I must do what is right, though I know it condemns my son to hang.”

  ~~~~~~~ ** ~~~~~~~

  Chapter 2

  “Mr Bennet, there is a young man here to speak with you,” Mr Hill said as he entered his employer’s study. He served as valet and butler to Mr Thomas Bennet of Longbourn, one of the largest estates in the neighborhood in the county of Hertfordshire.

  “Who is the young man?” Mr Bennet looked up from the book he had been enjoying while partaking of his tea and biscuits.

  “His name is Fredrick Denhem. He stated that he learned of the need for a new steward and has come to apply for the position.”

  “And did Mr Denhem say where he learned of the position?”

  “It is my understanding he has taken a room at the inn in Meryton. Mrs Dillard knows of the position, as she is my wife’s sister, so I presume that, if she had been asked, she would inform the young man of the position.”

  “Very well, send him in.” As the manservant turned to leave the room, Mr Bennet inquired as to the location of his second eldest daughter, Elizabeth.

  “I believe Miss Elizabeth is in her bed chambers, preparing to take a walk. As it is a pleasant day, I am certain she has plans to spend as much time in nature as possible.”

  Mr Bennet chuckled lightly. “Yes, that would be Lizzy’s preference. If you would be so kind, ask her to join me when she can.”

  It was well known at Longbourn that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was her father’s favorite of his five daughters. Having no son, Elizabeth became the child who was closest to him. She was well read, having free access to her father’s library, and was able to debate with her father on most subjects. The only thing keeping Elizabeth from being his heir was the fact she was female. Longbourn was entailed to the male side of the family, making a distant cousin the heir to the estate. No one in the family had met the man, though Mr Bennet had no doubt that he would be a foolish man, as his father had been. Abner Collins had been furious that he could not inherit the estate and had quarreled with Mr Bennet for several years. Since his death, Abner’s son, William Collins, became the heir apparent.

  Mr Bennet was roused from his woolgathering at the sound of footsteps coming near the door of the study. Mr Hill escorted the young man into the room, then left to fetch Elizabeth for her father.

  “Mr Bennet, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Fredrick Denhem. Currently I am a guest at the inn in Meryton. In speaking with the proprietor, Mrs Dillard informed me that you are in need of a steward for your estate.”

  “Indeed, we have recently lost our steward, as he moved to the north to live with his daughter and her family. His health was declining the last year, so he decided to spend his remaining time with family.. And you believe you are well versed on the workings of an estate? You could be no more than two and twenty. How could you have learned enough to think you could be a steward?”

  “In fac
t, I am seven and twenty. And I have been raised with the inner workings of an estate. I have recently returned to England, after spending the previous ten years living in Ireland. My father had trained me to know all that is needed to run an estate, and after losing him, I lived with an uncle who was a steward of an estate. My education includes the most recent thoughts on crop rotations, the care and upkeep of buildings, including cottages and manor houses, and breeding livestock to gain the best stock. Since my youth, I have learned to muck out stalls in the stables, planting and harvesting of crops, repairing buildings, shoeing horses, and much more. I can give you references of my work, though unfortunately, they are in Ireland, so it will take some time to receive a response. If you require a steward to begin soon, as the spring planting is to begin within the following month, I understand you would prefer someone with references that are easier to contact.”

  “Quite an honest young man. And where in Ireland have you been living? I visited there when I was a lad, when my father took me to visit some of the horse breeders there. My father had desired to breed some of the finest horseflesh in the county, if not in all of England.”