Free A Father's Sins: A Pride and Prejudice Variation by J Dawn King Page B

him the freedom from a heavy debt owed to the wrong people
and the revenge on Darcy that he so desired. He hated Darcy. Hated him for
being designated the heir and denying him Pemberley and the wealth of the
estate. Hated him for the respect their father gave to his youngest son;
respect that should have gone to the rightful heir. Wickham had nothing against
Georgiana personally. In spite of that, right now his needs far outweighed his
moral obligation to care for her. “Get her out of the carriage, now!”
     
    Darcy
knew that his coachman was armed. He also knew that this same coachman would
never do anything to jeopardize the young sister of his master. Therefore, as
long as Wickham was a threat to Georgiana, there would be no interference. He
looked at his precious sister and knew he would do anything to protect her and
that he would never allow Wickham to harm her. In all her fifteen years, he had
never known her to faint. The terror of this situation was tremendous.
Gathering his sister in his arms, he carried her outside the carriage.
Elizabeth followed. Mr. Darcy held his sister tight to his chest, his right arm
behind her back and his left behind her knees.
     
    “Give
her to me,” Wickham demanded.
     
    “I
shall not!” Mr. Darcy fixed his dark stare on Wickham’s face. All the years of
humiliation as he watched his father indulge George Wickham, all the times he
had to step back as his father thrust George into the front light, all of the
times he was bullied by this wicked man came to the surface and Mr. Fitzwilliam
Darcy had had enough.  “You shall get nothing from me.”
     
    “I
shall take what is mine.” Confidence that he had the upper hand was evident in
his countenance.  “Now, give her to me or I shoot you both and then I get it
all. Your choice, Darcy.” He waved the pistol at his younger brother and the
bloodlust was evident in his eyes. The pistol he had already discharged was now
tucked into his belt and the grip on the loaded pistol was firm.
     
    Mr.
Darcy bent and laid Georgiana carefully on the ground and then stepped in front
of her, between his sister and Wickham. He felt Elizabeth put her left hand
inside the crook of his right arm and realized she had stepped between the two
as well. Elizabeth had to be terrified, yet she was protecting Georgiana with
her courageous stand. Defiantly, he repeated, “You shall get nothing from me.”
Outwardly, Darcy appeared calm. Elizabeth could feel him shake and knew not if
it was fear or anger.
     
    Outraged
beyond reason, Wickham raised the gun to sight on Mr. Darcy’s heart. “Nothing?”
Disdain and hatred dripped from his mouth with every word. “You are not the
Grand Master here, Darce.” He waved the pistol again. “You took everything from
me; Pemberley, the wealth and position of being Master of Pemberley, the
respect of my peers. You took it all!  Father loved me! He loved me !”
Wickham pounded his chest with his left hand. “He loved my mother! We…. we were
his family; his true family. You were just an afterthought; someone for Mrs.
Darcy to preen over and to pet. You do not deserve to be Master of Pemberley.
You do not deserve to live at all, Darcy. You will die and then I will have it
all, just as I deserve. You will have NOTHING!”
     
    “It
is good that father is not alive to see what you have become.” Darcy spat the
words out. “That you would attempt to sell his daughter, your own sister, into
servitude to a vile moneylender so that you would be temporarily free of
debt would have broken his heart. You already broke the hearts of Mr. and Mrs.
Wickham and your sister by them, Constance. It is good that those good people
are not here to see how you have turned out. I doubt Mrs. Wickham would survive
the pain.”
     
    “You
leave the Wickhams out of this,” George screamed. His eyes were almost glazed
over, as if he were being influenced by a drug or an overuse of drink. The hand
holding the pistol started