It had been a little over a month since Mr Bennet's departure from Pemberley. Mr Darcy was busy in his study looking at some plans for one of the tenant's properties when he heard a commotion in the vestibule. A voice that he had come to recognise and dread had just echoed about the marble hall and pierced his ears. Lady Catherine de Bough had entered the building and was demanding to see the master immediately. He felt his stomach sink as he pondered on the reason for her appearance. Why would she make an unannounced visit if it was not of a serious nature?

Without giving the footman chance to announce the austere lady, she barged her way into the study and brought forth a thick uneasy atmosphere. "Where is he? Where is my brother?" she commanded at the top of her well-developed lungs before looking around the room for his presence.

"Ah! There you are. I would appreciate it if you would favour me with some of your time. I wish to discuss a matter of great importance, for it cannot be delayed."

"Yes, Catherine. Please sit down. Is Anne with you?"

"No. I have left my daughter at Rosings with her governess. She does not need to bear witness to this discussion. Where is Fitzwilliam?" asked Lady Catherine as she looked around the room in utter disdain.

"He is upstairs with George Wickham in the guest wing. The boy is not well."

"Good. I do not care for Fitzwilliam to hear what I have to say," Lady Catherine replied as she sat down on a nearby chair. "I have heard reports of an alarming nature that reached me last week. That you, dear brother, have arranged for Fitzwilliam to be married to a country girl from Hertfordshire. I have come with the intention of having this report entirely contradicted."

Mr Darcy looked at the lady sitting before him, wide-eyed and a face like thunder as she waited for his acknowledgement. An acknowledgement that he could not give. She is not going to be pleased with what I have to say, but say it I must.

"Whoever told you that?" he asked with a quivering voice. He knew he was digressing, but thought he would still be able to get out of this quagmire. Then he noticed the lady's expression turn choleric at his apparent deviation. God! She is angry. How can I get out of this? I will just have to tell her.

"It does not matter how the information came to my attention. I came here today to be satisfied that this ludicrous notion is not true."

"I am sorry to have to tell you that the rumours are accurate," he flinched. Closing his eyes as he put his head down, he waited for the impact of her wrath.

"So you admit that this arrangement has been agreed! Even though you were in the knowledge that Anne and I planned our children's engagement from the cradle."

"I have no knowledge of this fact, Catherine. Other than your insistence on telling me time and time again since Anne's passing, I had not been informed. My wife did not divulge any details of this arrangement, and I have in recent months concluded that this is all a ridiculous notion, which you have concocted. It seems rather coincidental that you have only repeated this on numerous occasions after had Anne passed away."

"What! I shall not endure this from you, George! I expect you to revoke your cruel words immediately!" she exclaimed. "How dare you insinuate that I, Lady Catherine de Bough, have made this whole thing up. I am not a scheming fishwife! Now, please tell me once and for all that you will make things right and break with this agreement."

"I will do nothing of the kind, Lady Catherine de Bough. Fitzwilliam is my son, and I shall decide what is to happen to him, not you! Even if it were such that Anne had agreed to this scheme, I would not have. I am head of this family, and my word is final." He took a deep breath and continued in a more sedate manner. "Anne is a sickly child, and I doubt she would be able to give my son an heir. He needs a strong wife who will be able to give him children. You know full well that Anne has a weak heart, which she has had from birth. Do you wish for your daughter to die in childbirth like your sister? I will not be swayed from my decision."

"This will not do! It cannot happen! Are you to go against the dear wishes of your late wife and her sister? The arrangement has been in place for years. I cannot… I will not accept this."

"But you have little choice other than to accept it, as this is my wish."

"I will not accept it! You have not heard the last of me, George. I will fight you over this."

"I do not think you will Catherine, for there is nothing you can do. I suggest you leave and think about what you have said and more importantly what I have said. I will not be swayed. Fitzwilliam is indeed to marry Miss Bennet, and there is nothing you can do about it. I may add that if you approach the Bennet family, I will see that it is within my powers to have you committed. Your insistence on spreading such nonsense is nothing more than a scheme. A scheme that has got out of control, Catherine. It is unhealthy for you to speak on this matter constantly. I hear you have discussed this at every opportunity, to anyone who will listen since Anne passed away. You need to take control of yourself before you end up with hysteria."

"I am outraged at this, George. I can see no other option than to cut all ties with you and your family. It is obvious that I mean nothing to you as you have shown great disrespect towards myself and your late wife's memory by going against our wishes. I can only hope that Anne is not turning in her grave. Dear god! If she were alive today, she would never forgive you!" At this, Lady Catherine stormed out the door. "I am most seriously displeased," were her last words before quitting the house.

Mr Darcy sat down with a sigh. He was exhausted. All the energy had been drained from him by one woman's scorn, but at least it would not rear its ugly head again. He did not wish for the family to break up over such matters, but he was adamant that he would not give in to his sister. The notion of this arrangement was no more than a fantasy she had conjured up. It was farcical. His wife would not have agreed to such matters without talking to him first. No, he must stick to his guns and if Catherine was never to see them again, then so be it.


"Good God, Fitz, who is that?" George asked as they listened to the muffled argument downstairs."

"It sounds like my aunt. She does not realise how loud she is. Richard calls her 'The Foghorn of Kent.'"

"He does not want to say that in front of your uncle or father. He'd get a clip around his ear for being so brassy."

"Oh, he has already been caught out by Uncle Henry. Got a whipping for it, although uncle does tend to be rather soft with his punishments and he did not notice the wad of papers Richard had stuffed down the back of his breeches."

"Can you make out what she is saying?"

"No. But Father is arguing back. I hope it is nothing too important as I get rather nice presents from Aunt Catherine. She got me a horse last year."

"Was that Neptune? He is a fine specimen, I must say."

"I hope she is not demanding him back. I would be most upset if I lost him."

"I doubt she would ask for a horse to be returned, especially if it was a gift… Go to the top of the stairs and find out what they are saying."

"I cannot spy on them, George. It would not be gentlemanly."

"You are not a gentleman; you are a gentle boy. Those morals do not relate to you yet. Now go," he said as he pushed the master off of the bed.

Darcy reluctantly walked into the corridor and stood at the top of the stairs. He could just determine the odd word but was able to decipher that his aunt wanted his father to renege on a promise.

"I am outraged at this, George. I can see no other option than to cut all ties with you and your family. It is obvious that I mean nothing to you as you have shown great disrespect towards myself and your late wife's memory by going against our wishes. I can only hope that Anne is not turning in her grave. Dear god! If she were alive today, she would never forgive you!… I am most seriously displeased."

Fitzwilliam darted back along the corridor and into Georges room. "She is leaving."

"What did she say?"

"I could only make out that she is upset with papa about not doing as she and my mother had wished. I do not know what that is, but Father was adamant that he would not quell his own decision."

"Does that mean she will not come visiting at Christmas?"

"I do not know. If aunt is as angry as she was today, I doubt it."

"Lizzy wanted to be here for Christmas. We had better make sure we write her a letter before then, wishing her a happy occasion."

"Yes, we must. I received a letter last week, which needs a reply. Shall we write to her now?"

George nodded, and Fitzwilliam went over to the small writing desk, to start the correspondence.


The following few months saw young George take his first steps. He found the process difficult but was eventually able to manage to bear his weight. He had the use of two canes, and for a short period at a time was able to get around within the confines of his room a few times a day, but no more.

The doctor seemed concerned at the slow progress of the young boy. He had done the directed exercises each day, but he saw little improvement over the course of several weeks. At this thought, the doctor requested an interview with Mr Darcy. "Sir, I have been with George the past few months. I hoped that the exercises after his spell in bed would have helped, but I can see only a slight improvement. It is not as I would have liked and I am concerned that there is now a likelihood that he will have difficulty walking again. At the very best, I fear that he will be permanently in need of canes and will only be able to manage a few yards at a time. He could improve a great deal more with perseverance, but we should prepare ourselves for his current situation to be his lot."

"I was worried this would happen. I have seen the pain on the boy's face when he has tried to do the exercises. I suppose he will have to continue with them and we have to hope he will improve. Do you think there is a chance he will walk unaided? Or will he be dependant on a chair of some sort? I want your honest opinion." Mr Darcy blanched at the thought of the young man being unable to move without the use of someone pushing him around in a makeshift contraption. The idea of the boy being cut down in his prime was heartbreaking to the man who had cared and protected him since his father had died. He had failed George, and it was his duty to make sure that if things did not progress, he would support him for the rest of his life.

"I hope it will not come to a chair," sighed the doctor. "It may be that the hip is taking longer than the usual time to heal, or it could be that his muscles need building more. I am afraid, however, that it is more likely that the hip bones have not aligned themselves correctly and therefore not healed in the right way. If that is the case, then he will find it difficult to walk for the rest of his life."

"We need to continue with the exercises, even more so now. I will not give up on the boy and have him bound to a chair. We have to hope he improves. I owe it to his late father."

"Very well, sir. I will ask for one of my assistants to come on a daily basis. George knows what to do, but the assistant will encourage him more and hopefully, his healing will improve faster with help."

"Yes, I agree."


Over the next year or so, Elizabeth, with the help of her father, wrote to Fitzwilliam regularly. However, during the latter months, Fitzwilliam's letters had become increasingly sporadic. Mr Bennet tried to explain to his daughter that the young master was now of an age where he had to attend to his studies more and did not have the time to write. Elizabeth wrote a few more missives but then abandoned all hope as they did not produce a reply. In reality, Fitzwilliam was now of an age that he had nothing in common with a seven-year-old girl. He was just turned fifteen and doing what ordinary boys of that age were doing. Pulling pranks with the lads about the estate and innocently flirting with the local girls in the village of Lambton, something of which was very much to Mr Darcy's chagrin.

After the demise of the correspondence between the youngsters, Mr Bennet chose not to mention their time at Pemberley again. Elizabeth had been very young at the time, so her memories of that summer began to diminish until they were nothing more than odd images, which flashed into her mind when she was least expecting it. It was best to leave it in the past, as somehow he had the feeling that they would never need the assistance of that family. Just by looking at his daughter, he knew that she would grow into a beautiful, vivacious young woman. Her kind nature and promising beauty were enough for him to believe that she would marry for love and not out of necessity.


Several years past and the Bennet house was a peaceful and calm place to live. Mr Bennet had paid particular attention to Elizabeth's' accomplishments, knowing that she could be a mistress of a magnificent estate if she did not find her own happiness in life. He ensured she had the best governess he could afford along with a decent dowry. Although a dowry was not a significant concern, if she were to become Mrs Darcy, Mr Bennet felt the need to save for the possibility of her own choice of a husband. If that did not come about, then he would be able to at least participate, in a monetary sense, to the arrangement he had made with the northern gentleman. He could not sit idle waiting for the Darcy family to pick up the pieces after he was gone, so fifteen thousand pounds had been saved over the years.

Both fathers had decided from the start that it would be best not to divulge the agreement that they had made, for it served little purpose to tell the children. At such a young age, it had little meaning, and neither would be able to comprehend the situation. Mr Bennet also secretly wished for Elizabeth to enjoy the chase of a suitor and possible marriage to someone that she had chosen herself. In Mr Bennet's eyes, the young Mr Darcy was nothing more than a potential marriage of convenience and only as a last resort. He would not stop his daughter from marrying another if she fell in love with a respectable man who could support her and a growing family. If that happened, who was he to stand in her way? Mr Bennet did, however, continue communications with the old Mr Darcy. Stating throughout that the agreement for the union was still what he wished for, even though secretly he would encourage other suitors when she was out in society. In turn, Mr Darcy had revised his Last will to include the marriage arrangement. This, he hoped, would ensure that his son honoured his father's choice in a wife.