As the years passed, the Darcy estrangement proved to be a most boring affair, in part because those watching from afar found no evidence of any affair. Neither spouse showed any indication of having paramours. While in London, their every step was observed and dissected. Of course, the ton took that to mean they did not conduct their dalliances in the country. However, speculation finally settled on crimes past as the cause for their fissure, crimes personified in the form of George Wickham. Everyone knew someone who knew someone who knew something about his role in the conflict. Additionally, the man himself proudly proclaimed that he was Mr. Darcy's favorite, reinforcing the ton's beliefs.
Mr. Darcy, however, had distanced himself from George as well as he was able. His commitment to the boy would one day be over and he might still have a chance to regain his life. George did not even realize his benefactor had abandoned him, for the monetary support continued and that was all that mattered to him.
George and William matured and moved on to Cambridge and Oxford, respectively. Upon graduation they each embarked upon their grand tours to the continent. This left Mr. Darcy feeling more alone than usual. While in London, he had taken to attending his club more often than was his usual practice. He often dined with friends, but few were bold enough to address the circumstances between the fractured couple.
"Been here quite a lot lately, Darcy. I suppose that is better than rattling around in those big houses on your own." Stephen Smithson was not one of those friends, but rather a friendly enemy. Smithson had pursued Lady Anne Darcy rather ardently in their youth and could never quite forgive Mr. Darcy for winning her hand. He enjoyed needling him whenever the opportunity presented itself. "You know, my boy, Geoffrey, went to Oxford with your William. He is a good lad; you and Lady Anne must be very proud. Too bad he will not be the one to inherit Pemberley; he would do right by it. Such is the lot for second sons, is it not, eh, Darcy?" Smithson gave him a robust clap on the back.
"You are in your cups, Smithson. You do not know what you are saying. William is my only son."
"Oh, yes, of course, he is." He gave Mr. Darcy an exaggerated wink before continuing. "I heard William was considering pursuing law. Though, he and that cousin of his are thick as thieves. Maybe you should purchase a commission for him so they may serve together."
"William is my heir. There is no need for him to take up a profession."
"Does he know that? For that matter, does that deplorable Wickham? He has been boasting about coming into his inheritance since he was at Eton."
"George's inheritance will be a valuable living if he takes orders and a few thousand pounds. That is hardly something to boast about." Mr. Darcy realized he, too, was in his cups. He would never reveal such information to Smithson otherwise.
"Again, I ask, does Wickham know that? He acts like the heir and borrows on that knowledge as well." Smithson smile was sly. "Lady Anne certainly seems to believe it. I imagine that accounts for the state of your marriage all this time."
"Is there an objective to this conversation besides stirring things up?"
"Oh, Darcy, you have no idea how much fun it is to stir things up for you. You were lucky enough to marry Lady Anne and you do not appreciate her. You have children any sane man be grateful for, but you do not even see them. I have seen more of William than you these last few years. And at every turn, you dismiss it all in favor of Wickham. Is it little wonder why everyone, including your family, thinks he is your natural son? You do not deserve what you so callously neglect." He looked at Mr. Darcy with barely disguised disgust.
"What do you mean you see William more than I do? When? Where? Have you been spending time with Anne?" Mr. Darcy demanded answers.
"Jealous? It is nothing unseemly, I assure you, for I am an honorable man. However, you do your wife a disservice to even think it. William and Geoffrey are good friends. He has been to our home often. That is not to say if you should meet an early end at the hands of Wickham, I would not welcome the opportunity to be in your wife's company more often. She is worthy of much better than you."
"Go away, Smithson."
"Go to hell, Darcy." Smithson left Mr. Darcy to his thoughts.
That conversation lingered in his mind. Surely, Anne did not believe Wickham was his son. Had he not refuted it often enough? His own words echoed back to him – I will not dignify such a question with a response. It is not easy to explain. Do you think so little of me? Then, of course, there were his actions. He had alienated everyone he held dear for George. It is no wonder the boy believed he was a Darcy, in line to inherit; never rationale, George might truly believe he might get Pemberley one day. What was he to do?
~~PoR~~
"I have returned, a man of the world. It is nice to be home, though." Wickham burst into Mr. Darcy's study a year later and flopped into the chair before the desk. "Just you and me still, I hear."
"Welcome back, George," Mr. Darcy purposefully did not welcome him home. "What are your plans now?"
"Well, first I thought I would move into William's rooms."
This is not what Mr. Darcy expected. "Why would you move into William's chambers?"
"No reason other than I can. But I suppose I can stay where I am, after all, the master's chambers will be mine in a few years."
"Planning my demise, are you?"
"Of course not, at least not right away." George's tone was light, but his face twisted into a disturbing grin and Mr. Darcy saw the truth in his words.
"Before you measure me for my coffin, you should remember that William will one day assume the master's chambers. He and Ana are the Darcy heirs, not you."
"It was just a joke. No need to get ratty." Wickham was quite content to play along for appearance's sake as long as he eventually got what he wanted.
"I am not getting 'ratty'. I am simply stating the truth. Not only will you not have William's rooms but your stay at Pemberley is at an end. It is time to make your own way in the world." Mr. Darcy was matter of fact, sparking George's anger.
"You are throwing me out? I am two months older than William and you will deny me my birthright because I was born on the wrong side of the blanket?" George watched the older man's face for any sign that would contradict his previous statement. When he found none, he remained quiet as his rage built.
"You are not my son, George. I am sorry that you were ever under that misapprehension," Mr. Darcy said. George exploded out of his chair and came around the desk to loom over Mr. Darcy.
"No! I always knew I was a Darcy. So does everybody else. There is no other explanation."
"I made a promise to someone I would see to your future, and I have done just that. You have always known that, too. I did not hide the fact."
"Edward Wickham was a lowly steward, a weak and stupid man. He is not my father."
"Perhaps he is not, but neither am I."
"I do not believe you. You threw aside your entire family for me, got on the wrong side of an earl, gave me an allowance and paid my debts. I lived in your house. You sent me, me, to Eton and Cambridge so I could continue the Darcy legacy, not William! Am I to be left with nothing?"
"My treatment of my family is the greatest regret of my life, but I am not your father and I have done more than enough for you. You have been raised and educated as a gentleman. That is more than most get. You must now stand on your own."
"I should just kill you now." No sooner than George said those words, he wrapped his hands tightly around Mr. Darcy's throat.
Unable to call for help, Mr. Darcy's right hand fumbled across the desk in search of a weapon, finally he grasped a heavy and ornate letter opener. As he did, George's weight and fury toppled the chair backwards and they landed with a great crash.
"Mr. Darcy?" A concerned voice called through the closed door of the study. "Are you well?"
Mr. Darcy struck out with the letter opener, stabbing blindly in attempt to get George to release him. He started to lose consciousness when he was suddenly freed from the young man's grip, as two footmen and the butler pulled the raging and bloody George from him.
As the shock of the situation threatened to overwhelm him, he could only wish he had let George finish what he started.
~~PoR~~
"Anne, do not slouch," Lady Catherine said. Both Annes, sister and daughter, sat up straighter. "However do you expect to attract a husband with such poor posture?"
Anne Darcy and Ana were in Kent for an extended visit at Rosings Park.
"I believe Rosings Park and twenty-five thousand pounds might sway gentlemen to look beyond my more relaxed bearing," Anne said wryly. As it was just the three of them, she returned to her slouch as soon as her mother looked away.
"You have not had an offer and you have already been out three years. Your posture only serves to accentuate your paleness and makes you look sickly."
"I am pale because I hardly ever get to leave the house without a parasol or ridiculously wide brimmed bonnet. Fresh air and exercise would give me a very pleasing glow that I imagine would be quite attractive to men."
"You do not wish to be too tan. That would make you look common."
"Too pale, too tan. If only William was an acceptable suitor, then I would not have to go through this," Anne jokingly complained.
"William is no more suitable than Richard is. James would be worthy of consideration. He will be the Earl of Matlock one day, but he brings no new connections with him."
"I suppose I should be happy you are not trying to arrange a marriage for my son, but I take offense at the idea that William is anything but a most suitable and eligible young man."
"He may not even have an estate," Lady Catherine was scandalized at such a thought. "Pemberley is not entailed and George Darcy might just be mad enough to defy custom. Or he could allow that Wickham fellow to bankrupt him. You really should have Father look into that. William's inheritance must be protected."
"We are comfortable as we are, for the time being. Father and Hugh have both vowed that we will always have a home with them."
"Anne and I make that same vow. Having you here has been quite agreeable," Lady Catherine's voice gentled. "If you ever need funds, please do not hesitate to come to me."
"We are fine, but I appreciate the kindness. This may mark me as an utter mercenary, but I have seen to it my husband provides everything he should according to the marriage articles and beyond. He has not challenged it even once."
"It is not mercenary to get what is your due. George should have to pay for his stupidity."
"I agree but if you do not mind, I spend far too much time talking about George Darcy and I would like to speak of anything else."
"Lady Catherine, Mr. Darcy is here. He wishes to see Lady Anne," the butler interrupted.
"What impeccable timing," Anne laughed. "I am sorry, Aunt, but it is rather amusing."
"Send him in," Lady Catherine answered for her sister.
They waited for their visitor in silence. When he entered, they were surprised by his ragged appearance.
"Mr. Darcy, you are unwell." It was obvious to them all, Anne Darcy quickly hid her concern for his well-being.
"Anne, may I speak to you privately?" Mr. Darcy's voice was gravelly.
"No-."
"I am fine with the others present-."
"I shall excuse myself-."
Lady Catherine, Lady Anne, and Anne spoke over one another.
Lady Catherine directed the situation. "Anne, you may go, and Darcy, you will sit here." She pointed to a seat by her but across from her sister. "Well, what have you to say for yourself? Your wife and daughter have been here for months, yet you could not visit in all that time."
"You are Lady Anne once again," Mr. Darcy said hoarsely, the butler had called her that when he asked after her.
"I long ago relinquished my misguided pride in the name Mrs. Darcy. I cherish the name Darcy only for William and Ana now."
"You were living in a fairy tale, Anne. You forgot they are always populated by villains," Lady Catherine replied.
Lady Anne waited for her husband to rush to his own defense as well as Wickham's. When he did not, she scrutinized him more closely. He looked…blank. "George, what is wrong?"
"You, William, everyone was right. I have known it for almost a decade now. Ever since the incident with the horse—"
"What incident with the horse?" Mr. Darcy forgot that he never told his wife about George's actions at during his first year at Eton when he used William's name for his own advantage.
"It does not matter. I was wrong and I am so very sorry."
"Why?" Lady Anne asked. "Why are you sorry? Why do you come to me now if you have known for a decade?"
"I had not yet fulfilled my promise, and now with recent events-."
"That infernal promise!" Lady Anne was already angry with her husband before he even arrived, but mention of the promise that caused so much pain broke through her usual calm demeanor. "There is no accounting for it. Mr. Wickham could have saved generations of the Darcy family or Pemberley itself and it would not have demanded such blind generosity. That promise is one you made to yourself to support the son you could never formally acknowledge."
"I know that you think that George is my son, but he is not. I swear to you on William's—"
"Do not even dare to pledge such an oath upon my son," she said coldly.
"I no longer have any honor to swear upon so I will just ask that you please hear me out."
"Regarding your honor, you are correct, but Anne need not grant you any such favors." Lady Catherine wished for her brother-in-law to leave as soon as possible.
"I am curious as I have waited so long for an explanation. Say what you feel you must," urged Lady Anne.
"Is William here? He should hear this as well."
"He is still on his tour but even if he was here, he would not wish to see you."
"Nor would I blame him." Mr. Darcy took a deep breath before he continued. "George Wickham is not my son…He is my nephew. His mother, Sarah Wickham, is my half-sister. She is my father's natural child."
Lady Anne gasped while Lady Catherine chuckled bitterly. "Your father was always purported to be so pious and honorable. It was said he was without vice. I do not know if it is better or worse that you did all this to protect a man who was already dead."
"Anne, say something," Mr. Darcy pleaded.
"You destroyed us to preserve your father's reputation?" Lady Anne began to cry. "You ruined everything for something so wholly unconnected to us. Your betrayal is truly immeasurable."
"No! I was never unfaithful. I never lied to you."
"No, you only manipulated me for two decades. It is just a betrayal of a different kind and cuts just as deep."
"I never wanted to hurt you, but it seems that is all I did." His agitation become even more pronounced. "My promise was never to Mr. Wickham. It was to my father. He confessed to me on his deathbed—"
"Egad, a deathbed confession. It is the thing of amateur dramatics." Lady Catherine would have been amused if her sister's life had not been ravaged as a result.
"He told me he had a lengthy affair with Sarah's mother, who was married to one of his tenants. He regretted he could not provide for her in any tangible way without revealing his indiscretion. Nor could he provide for his child. He did ensure she married a good man, thinking marriage to a steward would offer more stability and comfort than marriage to a tenant. When George was born, he was determined he would be raised as a gentleman, at least as much as possible. It is not uncommon to sponsor boys that are less fortunate. He thought it would go unnoticed.
"I did not know this until just before he died, when George and William were three. He told me and he made me promise that George would never want for anything. But Sarah, still to this day, does not know she is a Darcy."
"Did your mother know?" Lady Anne asked.
"She did not. Father could not bear to cause her so much pain because of his own weakness. It would hurt her to think he betrayed her, that he was not the man she thought him to be. She would be humiliated among the ton and all her friends."
Lady Anne set down her own cup and its contents. "Sister, are you done with your tea?" She picked up her sister's empty cup and hurled it into the fireplace with an infuriated growl. She quickly left the room, only to return seconds later.
"What about me? What about our children? What about our pain and humiliation? In making that promise, you gave away the life we were supposed to have. Your mother died two years after your father, why continue with everything? You could have provided for George's schooling easily enough. The material things do not matter but why did you place him before your own children and tolerate his terrible behavior? He was evil. How could you not see it? WHY DID YOU NOT TELL ME?"
"My father—" As Mr. Darcy began his defense, Lady Catherine reached for her sister's cup, drank the last few swallows and held it out to Lady Anne. Taking it, Lady Anne heaved it into the fireplace as she had the one before it.
"You should have told me. We could have found a solution that would respect your father's memory, one that would not come at the expense of your family. And George, everything that he is, you created. Have you at least disabused him of the notion that he is your son?"
"I have, to tragic results." Mr. Darcy looked ill. Lady Anne finally remembered her first reaction when he had entered the room. He was gaunt and grey, his voice, rough and harsh. "George is dead."
"Good." The sisters said in unison.
"I told him. He did not wish to believe it. He was furious. He attacked and tried to strangle me." He tugged his collar and cravat down just a bit, showing the marks of George's fingers that were still visible. "I tried to protect myself, I stabbed him with letter opener. He succumbed to infection while in the gaol."
"I am surprised you would allow him to be taken." Lady Anne could summon no sympathy for either man.
"It was Mrs. Reynolds. She sent for a magistrate when she sent for the doctor."
"Stop talking, Darcy," Lady Catherine suggested but he did not heed her warning.
"Come home, Anne, you and Ana both. I need you."
"It has been a long time since Pemberley was my home and it can never be again."