He raised his arms high above his head and stretched and twisted his tall lithe body then reached back into the coach and retrieved a small valise and a book which had kept him company on the ride from London. With a final instruction to his driver he waved him off and entered the building.
He greeted the old porter with a smile. "Good day, Roger, ready for another year of tomfoolery by ignorant young men?"
"Good day, Mr. Darcy. Good to see you again. And nothing escapes my eagle eye though many a lad has tried to outwit me. And on that subject Mr. Darcy I hope I didn't overstep my place when I refused Mr. Wickham's request for the keys to your room."
Darcy frowned. "When was this?"
"Last night shortly before I went off duty. Fortunately I received your letter saying that Mr. Wickham would no longer be sharing your rooms."
"Did he say what he wanted? I believe he removed all his belongings when he left in June."
"I'm sure he did, Mr. Darcy," the old man replied.
"I see," Darcy replied. Indeed nothing much got past Roger's eagle eye. "Did you receive my second letter?"
"Yes sir. Mr. Bingley's valet is upstairs unpacking his master's trunks as we speak."
"Has Mr. Bingley arrived yet?"
"Apparently there was some sort of problem which delayed Mr. Bingley's departure from London but his manservant expects him to be here before dark. He's ordered hot water to be brought to him as soon as he arrives."
Darcy was gratified to hear that Bingley's manservant seemed to be responsible. There was every hope that Bingley would prove to be a sensible and studious young man. If not, Darcy would have Guy Waltham's head on a pike.
In any case, he could not prove to be a worse roommate than George Wickham. Was it possible that Wickham had been born evil? Or was it as his cousin Richard suggested, nothing but envy and jealousy? On more than one occasion Richard had warned Darcy that Wickham no longer thought of himself as the son of a steward; that he was beginning to act more like the son and heir of Pemberley.
At first Darcy had laughed at Richard, accusing him of being delusional, but as they entered their teens and Wickham's habits grew more undisciplined Darcy grew more wary of his old playmate. He began to notice the disdain with which he treated the servants and tenants of Pemberley. The same was true with the tradesmen of Lambton, the little village a short distance from the estate. Darcy grew uncomfortable and embarrassed to be in his company but knew not what to do about it. He censured Wickham but to no avail. He brought the subject up with his father but the master of Pemberley just laughed and called it "high spirits".
The summer of their fifteenth year Darcy was given more responsibility in the running of their estate and so it seemed natural that he and Wickham no longer kept close company. Wickham was still invited to dinner regularly where he continued to ingratiate himself to Darcy's father. The sounds of their laughter began to grate on Darcy's ears. When their interaction became too unbearable Darcy would station himself at a window and stare out at nothing, making his mind go blank.
By their seventeenth year he felt nothing but contempt for George Wickham and Darcy's habit of staring out the window when he was upset had become ingrained.
When his father learned that Guy Waltham had graduated, he arranged for Wickham to share his son's quarters at Cambridge.
Darcy was furious and distraught but could or would do nothing. He lacked the heart to spell out exactly what his father's favorite had become.
In any case, would his father even believe him? Darcy wasn't sure and would not take the chance.
Darcy shrugged off his momentary anger and hurried up the stairs and entered his rooms. He glanced around sighing with pleasure. Everything was as he had left it. There was nothing of opulence only old, sturdy and comfortable furniture which he had added to during his three years of tenure. He noticed with a smile that his manservant had already set up the bar with the various liquors that Darcy had purchased in London and made a mental note to pick up a small bottle of gin for the porter.
He called to his valet who immediately appeared. Darcy spoke quietly "I understand Mr. Bingley's manservant is here."
Thomas, who had been tending to Darcy's needs for nearly sixteen years heard the unspoken question. "Mr. Bingley's valet is about my age, sir, and seems quick and diligent. His name is James and he's wasted no time in unpacking his master's trunks and setting his room to rights."
"Then he seems responsible?"
"I have great hopes," Thomas replied slowly, "that his Mr. Bingley will not be cut from the same cloth as your previous roommate."
Darcy smiled, "that would be a pleasant change."
"Since James and I will be sharing our own rooms, we've engaged to sup together once our duties here are done. Hopefully I'll learn more about Mr. Bingley.
"Good man. Well, I'm heading down to the square. I shouldn't be more than an hour. I'll take a quick bath when I return."
"Sir, I've taken the liberty of laying out more appropriate clothing in case you plan to visit the Queen's Rook tonight."
Darcy laughed. "You've read my mind, as usual."
A very short walk down the narrow, cobbled streets of Cambridge brought him to one of the oldest squares in town. Here were the many small shops that supplied the students with their basic needs. He nodded to several acquaintances and briefly stopped to chat with old friends and assured them that he would meet up with them later that evening.
In one ancient shop he allowed himself the luxury of browsing through the old and tattered tomes of long ago students which once read had been discarded. Darcy found it difficult to dispose of any book; he looked upon them as friends and teachers; a portal to far-off places that offered wondrous adventures. He was always delighted to add to the vast Pemberley library. He was pleased to find a slim volume of plays written in classical Greek and purchased it.
In the next shop he bought paper, quill pens, inks and notebooks. On the way to the open market he bought a large wicker basket and eventually filled it with fruit, nuts and sweetmeats.
His last purchase was some bread and cheese, several slabs of gingerbread which would be perfect with coffee in the morning, and a bottle of gin for the porter.
Thomas was still at work when Darcy returned. The fire had been lit; the beeswax candles set in their holders. He filled colorful bowls with Darcy's purchases and placed them and the candles around the room. He stood back and surveyed the room."
Darcy smiled at Thomas. "Just like home."
Thomas returned his master's smile. "It's good to be back, sir.
Darcy sank gratefully into a warm bath and leaned back and closed his eyes.
This would be his last year of relative freedom . He had one year left of his youth; in less than a year he would be two and twenty years of age and would be given complete control of the vast Darcy properties as per his father's wish.
He allowed his mind to drift back to his beloved Pemberley. His young sister Georgiana was at their London townhouse busy with her studies but his father had not left Pemberley for more than a year. He could see in his mind's eye his father sitting in the library staring listlessly at the fire which no longer warmed him, a forgotten book lying on his lap, drinking brandy until sleep took him.
His father was dying. He knew his father was dying despite all the finest doctors in England could do for him. At the rate he was wasting away it would be a miracle if he could last long enough to see his son graduate with honors from Cambridge.
And all for the love of a woman! Darcy had never been in love and knew not what the emotion could do to the soul but he was quite sure he would never want to know. Not for the first time since his mother's death eight years previously, Darcy felt a flash of anger at the injustice of it all. First his sweet mother's spirit being snuffed out before the age of three and thirty; now his father determined to follow her before he could celebrate his fiftieth birthday. The weakness of his father was intolerable.
All his life Darcy had been instilled with the three rules of life: duty to family; honor your name and station in life; be responsible for Pemberley and it's servants and tenants who relied on the master for their well-being. It seemed to Darcy that his own father had abandoned his own principles to indulge in self-pity. Where was his duty to family? Letting go of life while he still had a nine year old daughter who had lost her mother as a babe and needed and adored her father; a son barely one and twenty; a son who in his darkest moments was frightened of the responsibility which would be his all too soon.
Guilt at his uncharitable thoughts washed over him and he uttered a mild oath angry at his weakness. His father had taught him well and was confident of his abilities. He would take over the running of Pemberley and excel all who had come before him. As for his sister whom he adored, he would have his cousin who was four years his senior to aid him in rearing Georgiana to become the loveliest of women.
Thomas entered his room and assisted Darcy from his bath wrapping him in a thick plush towel. He spoke quietly as he rubbed his master dry. "Mr. Bingley has arrived and is now having a quick wash-up. As soon as he's dressed, he will join you."
"What sort of a man does he seem?"
"At the moment, sir, he seems to be a very worn and frazzled young man."
"Do you know why?"
Thomas shook his head and chuckled softly. "I heard something about his sister Caroline; damn Mr. Hurst; and James, my family is driving me crazy." Thomas covered his mouth to suppress a louder laugh. "Sir, the poor man was really distressed but through all this he was whispering so as not to disturb you in case you were sleeping. He was almost creeping past your door. It was really comical to watch."
Darcy laughed, "I'm sorry I missed it."
He dressed quickly in black trousers and linen shirt. He handed several large coins to his valet, "thanks, Thomas and you're done for the night. And I won't want to be disturbed until noon. And Thomas," he added with a smile, "be gentle with the ladies."
Thomas returned his smile, "always, sir, always."
The shadows had deepened when Darcy was once more in the common room. Through one of the tall windows that faced the town Darcy watched the slow growth of flickering candles bring evening to the town. Evening meant dinner and he suddenly realized how hungry he was. A few drinks with friends and a hardy meal was just the thing. With this happy thought he caught a reflection in the glass and realized he was no longer alone.