A/N: I'm not sure if I confused anyone with their physical similarities, but no, James and William are definitely not twins. That's one question answered!
William was not certain what activities he had expected the following morning to bring; but being thrust a note by a servant, scribbled in an uneven hand, was hardly what he had anticipated to begin his day.
"From Mr. Darcy, sir," the young footman informed him, before promptly retreating.
William felt a grim smile on his lips. Once upon a time, an ocean away, that name had belonged to him.
Having little else to do, William eased himself onto the largest chair in the spacious guest quarters and surveyed the contents of the note. There was nothing personal whatsoever about James's words. He mentioned that he would be away for the day and instructed William to entertain himself as he wished. James's directions were clear, and concise.
The tone was hardly what one would expect a man to use when addressing his long lost brother.
William sighed deeply. He had chosen to travel halfway around the world to please his father. No one had warned him that the very act might well displease his brother - a brother he had not even known existed.
The chair, as with most chairs, felt cramped soon enough, and William wandered to the window.
Spring teetered on the edge of summer all across the expansive Pemberley grounds. Buds of green in varying stages of growth graced the paths and gardens. Nearer the horizon, patches of farmland peaked through the shrubbery surrounding the main house.
The glimpses sent a pang of homesickness straight through William's chest.
If he had not traveled, he would still be a master rather than a guest, a brother who was wanted and welcomed. His farmlands would be his to govern, not distant images for visiting eyes to admire.
For a moment, William nearly declared his entire journey a debacle and left for home.
Pemberley was occupied, by a man who shared his father and by his gaggle of guests. As far as William's family in England was concerned, he and Georgiana seemed not to exist at all.
Would it truly dishonor Father to turn his back to such a distant and inhospitable home?
A knock on his door interrupted William's thoughts.
"Miss Bennet and Mrs. Bingley wish to inform you, sir, that you may break fast with them," the servant reported. For a moment, William struggled not to laugh at the fancy clothes the servants all wore. Where he was from, one only dressed well for jobs such as Newton's. It was hardly necessary to require those who labored to don such clearly uncomfortable clothes.
"Thank you," William replied. "I shall be down shortly."
The servant appeared surprised, then uneasy, at William's response - almost as if he was hardly accustomed to being thanked.
"Very well, sir," he muttered. Then he was gone.
William spent the following minutes pondering what he ought to wear. It seemed almost as if every hour, every meal, and every conversation in this part of the world invoked some sort of unspoken rule. He did not particularly care for these rules, but he had no wish to trespass all of them either.
He settled eventually on his green coat, a replica of the one he had arrived in yesterday. It appeared decorous and fine, and it did not squeeze his shoulders too uncomfortably.
Perhaps he ought to look into those famous London tailors while he visited the Old World. It would be rather nice to wear well-fitted clothes for once - not the drooping shirts nor the congested sleeves Georgiana seemed to always procure for him no matter how hard she tried.
He had commented upon the situation of his clothes, once upon a foolish dinner. Georgiana's prompt and overwhelming tears informed William that he ought never to say such words again.
Having settled upon what clothes to wear, William ventured down to the breakfast parlor, eager yet hesitant to meet the two sisters.
Miss Bennet had been nothing but kind since their first encounter, but he could hardly consider her an acquaintance at this point. Mrs. Bingley, stately and pretty despite her delicate condition, was hardly a conversationalist.
All of William's musings regarding the two ladies disappeared the moment he entered the breakfast parlor and heard a sharp, shrill voice that clearly belonged to neither.
"Clearly, they are relatives," Miss Caroline Bingley droned from her side of the table. "Although James wouldn't admit a thing when he joined us last night."
"Perhaps he only wished to ascertain things before drawing conclusions," Miss Bennet replied. It was clear to William now that, as James's fiancée, Miss Bennet played the role of surrogate hostess. She was a natural at the role.
"Nothing good can come of that," Miss Bingley whined. "Though I must say the stray is rather handsome."
"Caroline," Mrs. Bingley chided her sister by marriage.
"You cannot fault me, Jane." Miss Bingley argued. "You two sisters have managed to snag husbands far above your station, and I am left to fend for myself. Though one wonders how Elizabeth here ever managed to convince James to propose."
"Caroline!" Mrs. Bingley sounded harsher this time, although with a more embarrassed tone than an angry one.
It seemed to William that the golden-haired woman may be the sort to never move to anger at all.
"Mr. Darcy!" Miss Bennet called out. "You have joined us."
William turned towards her. He bowed and smiled. "Good morning, Miss Bennet - Mrs. Bingley, Miss Bingley."
The other ladies nodded as they replied. The haughty tilt of Miss Bingley's face made William wonder if she knew her gossiping had been overheard.
"Do you wish for some breakfast, sir?" Miss Bennet kindly directed.
"Ah, yes," William responded. His stomach grumbled. He hoped the ladies did not hear its complaints. "I would be honored."
A slight wave of amusement seemed to wash over the three ladies. Perhaps he had misspoken once more. There truly were far too many nuances to English customs.
"Shall we be seeing the other Mr. Darcy today?" Miss Bingley asked the table at large when William had sat himself down with his food. He rather missed the hearty morning dishes at the ranch, although he was not ungrateful to be served Pemberley's more delicate bounties.
"I fear James shall not be home until dinner," Miss Bennet replied. There was a slight sadness to her that made William wonder if the lady missed her betrothed after all. "But we shall have a splendid time nonetheless, shan't we, Mr. Darcy?"
William glanced up, surprised. "I - I do not doubt it."
Miss Bennet smiled, and her eyes brightened the entire room.
"Is the food to your liking, sir?" She inquired kindly.
"It is generous," William replied, genuinely grateful. A strong and familiar scent wafted into the room as they spoke. He turned quickly towards the servant who had just entered with his tray. "Is this coffee?"
"I had heard that those across the ocean prefer it," Miss Bennet explained. "I hope I had not presumed too much, sir?"
"No, not at all," William answered. It was hard to fight off his grin. "It is most thoughtful, Miss Bennet."
The future mistress of Pemberley smiled, and William thought it wouldn't be too much of a chore to spend the day with her - even if Miss Bingley did tag along.
The day passed pleasantly, and William found himself rather light-hearted and light-footed by the time he was sent upstairs to dress for dinner. The gesture felt childish, almost insulting, but William had had enough of a good day to overlook the thought.
Miss Bennet had led him through a tour of Pemberley's primary locations for most of the afternoon, pausing ever so often to explain things whenever William posed a question. Her answers revealed what she knew of her future home, as well as memories of her own childhood home in Herefordshire. Miss Bennet's words and motions had been so pleasant that and even Miss Bingley's incessant whimpering as she accompanied them could not taint the happy memory.
Some of William's peers had warned him about the relative formality of English manners before this journey, but he sensed none of the supposed pretense in Miss Bennet, even if it did manifest ever so often upon Miss Bingley.
Miss Bennet's manners were open and kind, her insights acute yet tactfully expressed. Her shoulders turned gracefully whenever she turned backwards towards him, and her hair glistened whenever a window conducted the sun's rays upon her head.
And for the first time since his arrival, William decided that his newly discovered brother James was indeed a lucky man.
William's musings kept him preoccupied much throughout his toilet and subsequent descent to the dining room. With the lengthening days of late, the outdoor sun still hovered above the horizon, sending lazy streaks of sunlight into the large and stilted space.
From what he had seen, Pemberley was indeed a grand and prestigious property. Yet unlike Darcy Ranch, or even the humbler homes of their American neighbors, the place struck William as soulless and bleak. Plenty of servants scurried about, eager to fulfill their current master's every whim. But even all the bustle could not render the place warm. Miss Bennet, for all her efforts, appeared more like a warm and transient guest rather than an authoritative mistress.
Father had said, quite clearly, that he wished for William to inherit Pemberley.
And for the first time, William wondered why.
Why indicate such a possible inheritance when another son already exercised his rights over the estate? Why create any possibility of the two half brothers discovering their father's duplicity when they had, up until yesterday, been blissfully unaware of the other's existence?
"Dinner is served," the footman announced - and William forced his current thoughts to abate.
"Shall we have mutton or beef tonight?" Miss Bingley speculated loudly. "I do hope you instructed the kitchen well, Elizabeth."
"Caroline," her brother seemed to censure her for once.
"It shall be frightfully tedious to be served the same food night after night," Miss Bingley replied, clearly unbothered by her brother's disapproval. "I mention this all only for our benefit."
William settled quietly in his seat, determined to avoid Miss Bingley's conversation.
"Do you not agree, Mr. Fitzwilliam?" Miss Bingley's query carried itself across the table, thwarting all of William's efforts to remain unseen.
William sighed. "Yes, Miss Bingley, I do believe you only speak out of your desire to benefit us all."
He spared Miss Bennet a glance after his politic reply and found himself rewarded with an almost grateful smile.
Small bits of conversation resumed for the remainder of the first course, with Mr. Bingley exclaiming ever so often that he hoped Mrs. Bingley was carrying a son. Given how Miss Bingley slandered her family name with her obnoxious behavior, William did not blame the man. The world did need more Mr. Bingleys than Miss Bingleys, if present company were any indication.
The moments between the first and second course concluded with the surprising sound of silverware against glass.
All eyes turned to the source of the sound - and landed upon Mr. James Darcy.
"I have an announcement tonight," James began, his tone and demeanor polished. "I have consulted with my solicitors and verified the documents Mr. Darcy here had brought from America."
William nodded slowly, uncertain why the man wished to mention these things so publicly.
"And while it was disappointing to learn of my father's unfaithfulness," James continued, "I have placed it upon myself to right his wrongs and reunite this family."
He paused to raise his glass, his chin lifted as high as his drink. "To my brother, Fitzwilliam Darcy."
"Fitzwilliam Darcy!" the guests echoed.
William dutifully drank and nodded and smiled.
"I had always wanted a younger brother," James said as he resumed his seat. "Perhaps this is Heaven's way of providing one for me."
William smiled slightly beneath his frown, uncertain how exactly he ought to respond to such a situation.
"Are you not younger?" Miss Bingley asked, her curiosity seemingly having overcome her sense of decorum - which had been rather flimsy to begin with.
"I?" James asked.
"Yes."
"I - " He smiled, although William noticed a slight darkness in his eye. "Of course I am the elder, am I not, Fitzwilliam?"
"I am eight and twenty. Father married my mother a year before my birth and chose to give me a name that honored a woman he had once loved and lost," said William, the weight of his words slowly impressing themselves upon the room.
The table fell silent. Miss Bennet's whisper barely disturbed the air: "James is twenty and six."
The darkness in James's eyes brewed into a storm, and William suddenly perceived, with total clarity, where exactly each of them stood.
As far as Pemberley was concerned, they each usurped the other.
He would not be surprised if this were his last meal.
A/N: How thoughtful of James to leave his guest to get to know his fiancée, at least! Haha.