The servants of Darcy House in London disproved of the former Miss Darcy and her husband, but nothing rankled Mrs. Potter more than the mischief she saw afoot at this moment. Strangers of ill repute visited the home on a near daily basis and more and more items were missing. She had not proof yet, but something strange was going on and she was determined to get to the bottom of it!
After dismissing two young maids to see to the guest rooms, Mrs. Potter bustled her way to the master's study full of vim and vigor. That imposter George Wickham should not take her Master's place, but she was powerless to tell him otherwise, even if she did find it repulsive. After knocking on the door and entering, the man sat oblivious to all behind her Master's desk with papers and letters all around.
"What is it? I'm a very busy man and cannot—" Mr. Wickham looked up and his expression immediately shifted to disappointment to see Mrs. Potter. The older lady crossed her arms at his sudden change in demeanor, knowing too well he hoped her to be a young maid for an afternoon dalliance. Never in her years of service at this house had she sent a maid packing to her family, and she just did such a week ago due to this man's snake.
"Begging your pardon, sir, but the vase in the library, the blue Ming? It be missing, sir."
"I'm sure Mrs. Wickham ordered it cleaned or packed away. She is changing the decor and has requested some items from Pemberley. I expect they shall arrive today."
"Pemberley?" Mrs. Potter's voiced failed her for a moment. These leeches were to plunder the spoils of Pemberley as well? She must write to Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Reynolds straight away!
"Is there a problem with my wife decorating her home?" George Wickham glared at the housekeeper with a wild look in his eye.
"No, of course not, sir. Mrs. Wickham has excellent taste and I'm certain when the Master returns, he will be most pleased with his sister's efforts." Mrs. Potter remained indifferent in her expression though she felt enormous triumph inside as she managed to remind the pretender of who truly owned this home.
"I'm certain you have work to do, leave me to mine." Wickham dismissed the housekeeper with a wave of his hand. He could not be bothered with some lowly servant needing to understand his plans. As Wickham tallied the sums again and again, even with the money he would get for the statues and artwork from Pemberley, he was still five hundred quid short. Lord Strange and Mr. Bullington did not appear to be men of an understanding nature when a business associate failed to fulfill an obligation. Wickham was going to have to find the last of the money somewhere.
Leaning back in the chair of Fitzwilliam Darcy, George Wickham dreamed of the freedom only wealth could provide. This one investment, a small portion of Georgiana's dowry if he had possession of it as was his right as her husband, stood as the best path to his future of fancy-free living. Wickham cursed Darcy and snapped forward to bang his fist on the desk. That man always thwarted his plans at every turn!
Spying a miniature of his lovely wife on the desk, Wickham's lips began to curl in a sinister grin. Perhaps there was one asset he had overlooked, one of great value. Picking up the small portrait of a thirteen-year-old Georgiana, he felt especially light as his own loins responded to the picture. She wouldn't like it, but if he charmed her enough, George had no doubt he would find a very compliant wife to his wishes and that of his friends with money to pay for her attentions.