Note: This is a one-shot with no connection to the previous stories.
Note 2: Forgive my opening paraphrase. To my mind Dickens provided us with one of the greatest opening lines for any story then or since.
Chapter Seventeen– Clarity, past, present, and future
An trusted servant and old friend returns from the dark to help shed a little light on the truth
John Wickham was dead to begin with. You must understand this or everything that follows will be rather confusing. This, of course, assumes that my tale will not confuse you anyway... never a safe assumption.
In life John Wickham been George Darcy's steward, but they had been much more. John Wickham, as a young ensign, had rescued his company commander during the Battle of Saratoga. Captain Darcy had already been shot, but the ensign managed to save him from also being bayoneted. He had then managed to drag the wounded captain to a safe resting place, despite his own wounds. As he labored, the battle raged and swept past them, leaving them on a field littered with the dead and dying.
They spent the night in a copse on a small hill, talking about their lives at home. Unbeknownst to either man, their general, General Burgoyne, had already surrendered. George Darcy was the second son of a very prestigious family with a vast estate. John Wickham was the only son of a well-to-do solicitor in Leeds. None of that mattered at the moment, and that night they became fast friends.
When morning came and they found themselves surrounded by the American Army, they were able to safely surrender. Captain Darcy's wealth was able to secure proper medical care for both men despite their status as prisoners of war. The two men continued to spend time together until they were finally released to be shipped home.
George Darcy returned to English soil only to learn that his older brother had been thrown from a horse and died, leaving him as the Master of Pemberley. One year later, when the old steward informed him that he wished to retire, George's first action after shaking the man's hand was to write to John Wickham. Wickham found no joy in his father's law practice and happily accepted the position as Pemberley's steward. The two men worked together to make the estate prosperous for the next twenty-four years until John Wickham died suddenly during an influenza outbreak.
When John Wickham's son, George, had been born, he had asked his friend to serve as Godfather. George Wickham and Darcy's son, Fitzwilliam, grew up together as friends and playmates. When it was time for Fitzwilliam Darcy to attend Eton, his father secured a place for George Wickham as well. The same was true when they attended Cambridge. It seemed only natural that it should be so...
But there was much more to the story.
~ooOOoo~~
The estate of Pemberley, Christmas break, 1806
George Darcy scowled at the near-empty glass, throwing back the last dregs of the scotch whiskey before reaching for the decanter again. His son, Fitzwilliam, had just given him a disappointed look before storming out of the office
The boy had come home from King's College, Cambridge, with a bee under his tophat over some indiscretion of George Wickham. It seems that young Wickham had been sowing his wild oats a little too freely and had gotten into a little bit of trouble. Fitzwilliam had taken care of the problem, so his father didn't understand why he was still so upset. After all, George Darcy knew that he was certainly not innocent. Maybe he should write a scolding letter to his godson and warn him to behave himself... Maybe later...
George Darcy laid his head on the desk and faded into a drunken sleep.
"Wake up, George."
"Mumble...mumble...mum..."
"WAKE UP, CAPTAIN!"
George Darcy jumped to his feet, surging to the position of attention. He swayed as he tried to make his bleary eyes work. What he saw in front of him made him think he must still be drunk or dreaming. "John!?"
It was John Wickham, young looking, looking battle-worn in a bedraggled Army uniform. The young man smirked, "Yes, George. It really is me... or at least the me that I am allowed to show you. And yes, I am dead. I was sent back because you're making quite a hash of things and the higher-ups think you might need some clarity."
"Clarity?"
"Yes... as in a heavy dose of the straight truth. You see, George, you are so busy beating yourself up with guilt and misunderstandings that you are hurting others, including your son and daughter... so I have been sent to set you straight."
Darcy blinked, shook his head, and reached for the decanter. Wickham waved his hand and the container vanished from Darcy's hand, "Enough of that, old friend. You stopped drinking years ago after you made a few mistakes. You should never have picked it up again."
"Leave me alone, John. You don't know what I did. If you did, you would not call me 'friend'."
"Oh, you mean sleeping with my wife?"
George Darcy grimaced and looked at the specter in front of him with genuine contrition, "I'm sorry, John. Truly I am."
"It never happened."
"What are you talking about? Of course it did! I never told you, but I certainly remember waking up next to Louisa!"
John shook his head sadly, "Believe me, George. There are four truths you will learn tonight. I am going to take you on a journey across time to give you a little clarity."
"Please, John. Just allow me to go back to sleep. I have had a long day."
"It was a long day, but it was of your own making, George, and it will get worse if you do not open your eyes. So let us begin. The first thing that you need to know is that my son is not my son... and he is also not your son." At some point during their talk, John Wickham's face and clothing had changed. He now bore the appearance of the middle-aged steward. The apparition waved his hand and everything changed. They were still in Pemberley, but now they were in the guest wing. A young and quite alluring Louisa Wickham snuck down the hallway and stopped at a door. She knocked and the door opened to reveal Sir Michael Buford, a distant relative and frequent visitor many years ago. The handsome baronet smiled lasciviously and pulled Louisa into his room. Behind closed doors the viewers heard tinkling laughter.
"I did not learn the truth myself until my demise. It seems that death can provide surprising clarity." With just a touch of bitterness, John stated, "My wife entertained quite a few of your male guests over the ten years of our marriage. When she died in childbirth, that child was not mine either. This was the night that my son George was conceived it seems."
A mist swirled around the two men and now they were standing in front of George Darcy's own sleeping chamber. John continued, "Your dear wife had just miscarried her second child. You purchased a house in Ramsgate and took her there to recover... but then you left her there and returned to Pemberley. You were quite selfish in your grief and used the excuse of duty to affect a separation. It was a foolish move that hurt you both, but it also left you with two false beliefs. The first was that you slept with my wife and she conceived the man you raised as your God-son."
As the ghost talked, Louisa Wickham snuck up to the master's door. She pulled a key out of a pocket in her dress and let herself in. John spoke, "When Louisa realized that she was pregnant, she saw an opportunity to put you under her thumb. When you woke up to find her in your bed you naturally assumed the worst... aided by Louisa's own acting, of course. In truth, you were so dead-drunk that she couldn't wake you. You sent her away immediately, but since then you've never forgiven yourself for what you thought you did to me. Your guilt has also made you blind to young George's faults, follys, and vices."
George Darcy had tears in his eyes upon learning the truth. His betrayal of his good friend, of of his own dear Anne, had plagued him for twenty-three years. John waved his hand again. The mist cleared to reveal the George's beloved Anne sitting alone in the dark and weeping. George somehow instantly knew that they were in the cozy home in Ramsgate he had purchased for a holiday home. "The second truth you need to learn is that Fitzwilliam is your true son."
"How is that possible?" Darcy spat, "I had not slept with Anne for months!" John merely pointed out of the window. It was a cloudless night and the moon revealed a lone horseman riding down the cobbled street at a reckless pace. The horse and rider stopped in front of the window and the man dismounted unsteadily, leaving the horse untethered as the he stumbled to the door. George recognized a younger version of himself as the man flung the door open and strode in. Anne jumped up and cried, "George! You're here!" and threw herself into his arms. Without any words being spoken, the younger version of George Darcy picked up his slender wife and carried her into the bedroom.
John spoke, "You were drunk when you got there. In fact you were drunk all of the way from London. It is a wonder you did not kill yourself. Your Anne did not mind. She was just happy to see you... but then when she woke in the morning, you were gone again." The censure in the dead steward's voice was unmistakable.
The two men watched the younger Darcy stumble back out of the room and out of the house to grab the reins of his horse and ride off. "You always did have a temper, George. When you drank, you became unpredictable. You woke up in a ditch near Rosings... I suspect that you were riding there to give your sister-in-law a piece of your mind. The only good thing was that you swore off drinking that night and never touched the stuff again... until you lost your Anne."
After a long pause, Darcy said, "Fitzwilliam is my son... I thought..."
"You thought that somehow Anne learned about your sin and reciprocated. No, George. Anne loved you deeply despite your many faults and never once looked at another man... unlike my wife."
"Thank you, John... may we return now?"
"No, George, we are not done yet. I have only shown you two of the four truths you must learn tonight." He waved his hand and the mist deposited them in a small, nondescript room where a young girl of no more than fourteen was crying. "This is Jamie Sutter. She is four and ten and carrying your Godson's child. He presented himself at her father's tailor shop using your son's name so that he could use your family's good name to open a line of credit. Of course, when he saw this innocent young lady he turned on the charm. He seduced Miss Sutter using your son's name and the promise of marriage to a wealthy heir. Then, once he got what he wanted, he disappeared.
"Mr. Sutter dragged his daughter to your son's rooms at school and demanded that he marry his pregnant daughter. Of course Fitzwilliam had never seen the girl before in his life. It was the girl who spoke up and said that her father had the wrong Fitzwilliam Darcy. It did not take Fitzwilliam a minute to determine the impostor's true identity. Using his own funds, your son did all that he could for young girl, but she is now hidden away in a home for wayward young women. When her child is born he will be taken away from her. Her father has not yet decided if she will ever be allowed to return to her family... but that is okay, because your Godson is just 'sowing his wild oats'!"
John looked at his old friend with disappointment, "When I asked you to be my son's Godfather, I assumed that you would guide him if I was not around. Granted, he has used his charm to fool you, but let me ask you: do you feel that you have fulfilled your duties as godfather properly?"
Darcy flinched and shook his head. He did not see John's gesture, but now they were back in his son's suite of rooms. George Wickham was squaring off against Fitzwilliam and laughing, "I heard that you tried to tell dear ole' Papa all about how terrible little George Wickham has been." He smirked, "Coulda told you it wouldn't work, Fitzie. My godfather has always preferred my company to yours. I make him laugh. You make him frown. Face it, Fitz, he loves me more than you... and you hate me for it." George Darcy ground his teeth as he saw his beloved son trying to hold his temper. The worst part was that the look in his eyes suggested that George Wickham's words were hitting too close to home.
"Can I do nothing, John?"
"The events I showed you in the past are beyond your control. This situation and other future situations like it might be altered, assuming that you are man enough to make the effort."
"Other situation? I am afraid to ask..."
A series of journeys revealed a terrible trail of malice and destruction. George Darcy saw his own death, with his son and tiny daughter looking broken while George Wickham sneered in the background. He saw Wickham requesting to be paid for a living that he was unworthy of, and then using the money to create a trail of debauchery through London. He saw young Wickham returning to demand the living again, only to swear vengeance when it was denied. He saw his beloved daughter Georgiana, only just growing into womanhood and being talked into an elopement.
He breathed a sigh of relief when Fitzwilliam arrived unexpectedly to foil the plan, but he also saw Georgiana's self-loathing and loss of confidence. He also saw how the events of his son's past changed him into a bitter and judgmental man who treated others with disdain, even insulting a beautiful and innocent young lady at an assembly in her own community.
George watched helplessly as his son continued to make mistake after mistake with the same young woman even as he was falling in love with her. His mouth formed grim lines when George Wickham made an appearance again and spread lies about Fitzwiliam even as he built up debts and seduced local young women.
Then he witnessed his son's horrible proposal and the equally horrible rejection.
"This cannot be, John. I must do something. I cannot allow this to continue on as you have shown me. Surely there must be something..."
George Darcy was in his office with the light of dawn peaking through his window. The ghost of John Wickham was gone. He looked over and saw that the decanter was gone as well. Jumping up, he went to his door and threw it open only to startle a young maid, "You, miss... what is your name?"
Frightened, the girl executed a clumsy curtsy and answered, "Molly, Sir. This is my station, Sir. Mrs. Reynolds told me to clean here..."
"And I am certain that you do a fine job, Mollie. Now tell me, what day is today?"
"Why, Sir, it's Christmas."
"Capital! That means that Fitzwilliam is still here! He is my son, you know. And a better son cannot be found!"
"Of course, Sir. As you say, Sir." But George Darcy was already past her and out of the room.
As expected, Mr. Darcy found his son returning from a morning ride. What followed was a long, awkward, and honest talk between father and son... the first of many such talks where they spoke as equals. Later George collected his daughter and all three shared an enjoyable holiday together
When George Wickham returned to Cambridge after his holiday spent drinking, gambling, and whoring, he was astounded to find his godfather waiting for him in his rooms. "George, it seems that you and I need to talk. I have been paying for you to study to take orders, but the reports of your activities demonstrates that the church might not be the right fit for you."
Wickham gulped and asked, "Wh... what do you suppose would be the right fit?"
"The Army, George my boy! You like adventure and going to places where no man of the church should go, so I believe that the Army is just the place for you. In fact, I spoke with an old friend and he found a slot as an ensign available right away. Congratulations, George, you're going to join my the troops situated in the West Indies! Think of the adventures you will have!"
Wickham tried to use every trick in his repertoire to talk his usually pliable godfather out of this plan, but when he stepped out of his door he found two soldiers already waiting to escort him to the embarkation point.
After his godson was escorted away, George Darcy closed out the boy's rooms and paid his rather large bills. Then he went to seek Mr. Sutter. There was a great deal of hostility and finger-pointing from the tailor, but eventually Mr. Darcy managed to make the man understand that he was there to help the man and his daughter. Four and ten was too young to marry, but with the situation as it was there were few other choices. Mr. Darcy found a good and kind husband for the girl who allowed her to keep her baby. The new couple also became the proud owners of a little shop to call their own.
Over the next several years the relationships between George Darcy and his children greatly improved. Because he put a stop to his destructive drinking, his health gradually restored. When 1810 rolled around, Mr. Darcy paid a bow street runner to learn all that he could about the Bennet family. The report led to his becoming a major investor in with Gardiner imports.
Mr. Gardiner was a stylish, well-spoken, and intelligent man. His wife turned out to be a jewel, only made more appealing due to her ties to Derbyshire and Lambton. They became friends and often dined together. By an odd coincidence their pretty niece Elizabeth Bennet visited at just the right time for Mr. Darcy to invite the couple and their guest to dinner at his home.
Georgiana loved Elizabeth right away and practically adopted her as an older sister. Mr. Darcy was quite impressed and engaged the young lady in several controversial topics. Fitzwilliam Darcy was slightly stand-offish at first, but her lively, intelligent conversation and remarkably fine eyes drew him out. As the evening progressed he also became aware of her light and pleasing figure. For her part she was quite taken with his intelligent speech, dark eyes, tall figure, handsome face, and attractive smile.
Elizabeth's visit extended from weeks to months. The two young people enjoyed that most delicate and undefinable dance from attraction to attachment. Without the intervention of Elizabeth Bennet's mother or the embarrassing behaviors of her younger sisters, Elizabeth was able to shine.
Five months to the day of their first dinner together, Elizabeth became Fitzwilliam Darcy's wife.
George Darcy loved his new daughter almost as much as his son did and he was quite proud to watch as she mastered her role as Mistress of Pemberley. He was even prouder when he walked his beloved Georgiana down the aisle and placed her gave her hand to Viscount Eastland, a fine young man who adored his daughter.
George met Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth's son, Bennet George Darcy, before a severe apoplexy struck him down. He spent his final moments in bed, surrounded by his sons and daughters.
When he opened his eyes again, he was greeted by his beautiful and beloved Anne. John Wickham was standing back and waiting to add his own greeting. Louisa Wickham was notably absent.
Jamie Wilson gave birth to a fine and healthy son. David Wilson, her husband, soon grew to love his young wife and son. Through diligence and hard work they grew their shop into a thriving enterprise which continued for many generations.
Ensign George Wickham completed his training, but deserted and vanished shortly after arriving in Port Royal. He was never heard from by anyone associated with the Darcy's again.
ooooOOoooo
Author's Notes:I know that the Christmas Carol theme has been used and overused, but this little tale got stuck in my head and just had to get out.
Thanks for reading and reviewing.