Chapter 165

So this was it, the moment Darcy had been waiting for since Elizabeth first suggested that George Wickham might have had a stronger connection to Darcy's father than just friendship. In a few moments he would know whether the only man in England that he truly hated was in fact his younger brother. Frankly, he didn't doubt that very much anymore, aunt Catherine had spoken with such intense disgust of the whole affair that Darcy couldn't imagine their fears not being true. It was all so logical, Victoria Wickham had married the Pemberley steward just to be close to his master, an affair that had lasted for more than two decades, from before Darcy was born to the moment Victoria Wickham died. Being a nurse she probably had intimate knowledge of how to prevent conception, so why would she ever have borne a child to the man she didn't love, even though he had been her lawful husband? And such a good, kind man, Darcy remembered the older Mr Wickham well, always there for father or son Darcy to depend on if something didn't work out as planned. Too good for what life had brought him, a wife who loved another and a son who strayed from the right path, also because of that other.

'Darcy, you are already here, good! You always were punctual, my favourite nephew. Mrs Darcy...'

Darcy felt himself tense, even more? Could he? Apparently so, when his aunt gushed over him and only nodded slightly to his beloved. Elizabeth squeezed his hand, she didn't care a whit about aunt Catherine's behaviour towards her, it was more likely to divert her than anger her. She also knew how difficult this was for him, and gave him a wink where his aunt couldn't see it. That heartened him, whatever they were to hear it didn't matter, as long as he had her love his life was perfect. And he had managed to conquer his jealousy of Prince George, who might flatter Elizabeth to his heart's content these days without causing a single stirring of the green-eyed monster in Darcy's breast.

'Darcy, I promised you those letters I had taken from that low woman's room to open your mother's eyes and prove your father was the faithless scoundrel she suspected but didn't want to believe him to be. She never agreed to read them, and I didn't dare tell her what was in them for fear of losing her altogether. I wanted her to leave him to come live with me but she chose to stay with the man who crushed her heart and spirit. It was almost as if she reproached me for trying to expose the truth, when it was Richard Darcy who had broken his vows to her. I will give them to you now, and hope that you will forgive me for wanting the best for her, though she never could. And please remember you're not just your father's son, your mother was as perfect a person as ever lived, she deserves to be remembered as such, not as a woman whom her husband cheated on with her own nurse.'

Was aunt Catherine as nervous as he was? It certainly seemed that way.

'Don't worry, aunt Catherine, I know my duty to my family from both sides, and I will not place anyone ahead of them.'

'Oh, that reminds me, I almost forgot. You have another visitor, another one of your adored lady's relatives. I hope it's a mere coincidence that she is the hussy who eloped with this Wickham character, or your beloved wife has already talked to her sister, who then saw fit to come to reap the benefits even before the relationship has been proven. She was as offensive and unsophisticated as her dress was cheaply made and worn, to not mention its impropriety in genteel company. Trust me, my dear nephew, no good can come from associating with that family. One day the flaws will come out and then you will be sorry, like your mother was, but by then it will be too late. For like her you are too honourable to save yourself from a miserly association.'

'Lydia is here?' Elizabeth said, voice surprised but nothing else. Darcy could hardly breathe with rage, this one time his anger burned instead of turning him icy cold. How dared aunt Catherine? Nobody liked her, nobody even respected her that much, except boot

lickers like Collins. Even her own staff paid lip service to her face and did what they liked behind her back. Elizabeth was the best woman in the world, everyone loved her and yet she only looked at him. And now she was with child, his child, the heir she insisted on giving him when she could have enjoyed a few more years of freedom with just the two of them together. Despite being deadly afraid of giving birth, Elizabeth had sacrificed her freedom for Darcy's family. She deserved love and respect from everyone, not slights and insults aunt Catherine didn't even bother to hide behind polite conversation, as Caroline Bingley had done. Darcy was so angry he couldn't even have uttered a word to save his life.

'I promised her a few new dresses, you don't mind her staying here a few days before she travels on to Kent, do you? I can understand why she would hate moving to a new camp without a nice new dress, especially coming from the north to the south.'

Darcy could only nod in assent, how could she ignore aunt Catherine's offensive language so totally? It was as if she didn't care at all.

'Maybe we should make a little haste with those letters, Lady Catherine, I must admit I'm a little worried about my sister making a spectacle of herself before Prince George. Somehow she cannot say a single word without being offensive, and though I'm rather certain the prince would find that highly amusing, I suppose I also dare confess I am rather ashamed of my sister's foolishness. Especially if my father is there as well, he'd just as easily encourage her as check her.'

She totally ignored his aunt's tone and words, merely acknowledging the message as if it was a well-meant warning, one she even agreed with to some extent. Yet Darcy didn't think Lydia would behave foolishly when faced with Prince George, she had improved a lot under the guidance of her friends in Newcastle, she'd uphold the rules of conduct. But it was a strange coincidence indeed for her to turn up just now, though Mr Bennet had mentioned Wickham being expected to travel south this week.

'I'm glad we agree on something, Mrs Darcy, your sister is not fit company for a prince, however disputable that one's conduct may be for his lofty status. Let us get this letter business over with as soon as possible. Darcy, here you are, this is the most important one, I'll give you the rest later, there are quite a lot. I do warn you, it will not be easy to read.'

'Which is why Elizabeth is going to do that for me, aunt, as she did with all the others. I suppose those were the real eye-openers, the real shock. Compared to finding out exactly how thoroughly my father broke his marital vows, the news this letter contains seems of minor importance. To me. To Wickham, it could mean the world.'

'If you decided to tell him, my dear nephew. Now, read.'

Instead of to him, aunt Catherine handed a letter to Elizabeth which looked exactly as the others had, thin and plain. It was obviously the work of a man in the habit of writing a large number of letters of business, to whom writing to his mistress had been another task to fulfil, not a passion.

Elizabeth accepted the letter graciously, opened it and started to read. Aunt Catherine did not flee, she was many unpleasant things but not a coward.

My very dear Victoria,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and good spirits, though your last letter gives me confidence you are not dissatisfied with your current life. Didn't I tell you you'd come to like living in the country once you'd gotten used to the quiet and the fresh air? And imagine having to live in town with little George, he would never have been able to play outside all the time, the country is so much safer for small children. Anne tells me George and Fitzwilliam are great friends, more like brothers, she said, she is so proud of her boy taking a younger child under his wing.

There it was, the reference to brotherhood. To a biased observed like his mother it might have seemed that Darcy considered Wickham a younger brother, but in fact he had been quite aware of their difference in rank from an early age. Remarkably, it had been his father who had asked him to take good care of little George because that would be his future task as a landowner: to take good care of those depending on him.

'Are you good to go on, my love?' Elizabeth asked, worried he showed so much feeling already, no doubt. Well, maybe Darcy was also an expecting parent, a little more sensitive than usual. A tiny spark of anticipation and joy now replaced the steady sense of dread he felt: he was going to be a father!

'I'm fine, my love, please go on.'

My love, of course I'm not angry at you for admitting you have come to love Wickham. He is the best man I have ever had the pleasure to know, and he is your husband who adores you. It is very fitting you should love him, and I'm very happy to hear you are not just putting up with him anymore, I always felt guilty imagining you with him in private, wishing you were with me instead. And when you got with child so quickly after marrying him I was afraid you'd be miserable carrying his child when you had planned it otherwise. But I really couldn't help having to be in town at that time, you know that, I didn't want to go, especially with Anne so slow to recover from Fitzwilliam's birth as well. Still, I'd dare say everything turned out well, isn't it just perfect how you can face your husband squarely having given him a beautiful and kind son? Don't we all want to give those we love the best we have to offer?

What? Did that paragraph say what Darcy thought it meant? A quick look at Elizabeth proved she was as surprised and yes, pleased.

'Do you want me to read it again, Fitzwilliam? I think we have our answer but I'd like to be sure.'

He nodded quickly, uncertain of his voice, with aunt Catherine looking on he'd rather not show any weakness at all. The latter didn't seem relieved, well, she knew what was in those letters, had known for two decades. Why was she still so angry? George Wickham was not Richard Darcy's son, shouldn't that make her happy? Had she hated her brother-in-law so much that hearing his words could still anger her, even when spoken by a female voice and from beyond the grave?

Catching his look, aunt Catherine merely said, 'By all means, read it again, but I'm warning you, it won't get any better. Dick Darcy was a hypocritical piece of shit. It gets worse.'

Such language from his aunt! And worse? How could it get worse? Wickham was George Wickham senior's real son, and what Darcy had done for him was enough, decidedly more than enough, he had not wronged his very own flesh and blood by letting George Wickham's atrocious behaviour seal his fate.

Distracted by Elizabeth's voice reading the paragraph again he let go of that thought and concentrated on her, or rather, his late father's, words. There was no possibility of confusion, Victoria Wickham had gotten with child within a few weeks of her wedding, despite trying to prevent conception, and in Richard Darcy's absence.

Aunt Catherine seemed impatient, well, nothing new there.

'You heard it right, Lieutenant Wickham is no relative of yours by blood, only by marriage. Now, Mrs Darcy, read on.'

Elizabeth looked at aunt Catherine in a very peculiar way, it was as if she did understand why the offensive old lady was so angry about something that gave his beloved and himself total relief. And then she did the unimaginable: she obeyed Lady Catherine de Bourgh's order and continued to read, repeating the last sentence before starting a new paragraph.

Don't we all want to give those we love the best we have to offer?

Which brings me back to your last letter. Of course I'd love you to visit me in town for a few weeks, and I do understand your wish to try for a little girl to cement our bond. Little George is four years old and if he is to have a sibling this is the perfect time. I know it's every woman's dream to have a daughter with the man she loves, but it's not as easy as that, my dear Victoria. Even if you were to conceive that quickly, you know I can never acknowledge the child as my own, and what if it is another boy? He might look totally different from Wickham and little George, you know Fitzwilliam looks nothing like your son.

And you know by now what it costs to raise a child, even such a young one, and this is just the start. If you want little George to rise above his father's position he will have to go to school, and to college, and that is very expensive. Of course I will provide for George, he is such a sweet boy and you and Wickham have meant so much for me and for Anne, but Wickham has his pride, he will not accept my paying for everything. A second child, especially if it's a boy, will drain your resources and you will not like doing without the luxuries you can afford now.

But I know Anne is also desperate for another child, preferably a girl, so I do understand. Just think about it and let me know, I will love you whatever happens, and I'm certain Wickham worships you as you deserve. You are a lucky woman to be loved so well, I'm glad I didn't take you from your life in London for nothing.

Now please keep an eye on Anne and Fitzwilliam, and on little George and Wickham of course. If you want me to write to Wickham to let you come to town I will, it's been two years since you were here, I think you are due some time off. Though maybe it's not the best idea if I intercede again, Wickham might suspect something is afoot. What if you were to make up some excuse about a family member? You still have brothers and sisters in town, don't you? If one of them fell ill you'd almost have to visit, and of course you can stay in our town house.

Suddenly, Elizabeth stopped reading aloud and perused the rest of the page in silence. She then turned the letter around and quickly took in the rest.

'The rest is all pillow-talk, my love, endearments and daily affairs. Nothing we need to read immediately, while your aunt is waiting.'

She turned towards aunt Catherine, who was no less angry but not at Elizabeth as far as Darcy could see.

'Lady Catherine, thank you for coming here to bring us this letter. No matter how little you may value my opinion, I nevertheless want to let you know how much it means to me, I can see it wasn't easy for you to have all this rankled up.'

And then she fell silent, what did she mean by all this? What was he missing? Well, maybe if he did his duty to his aunt he'd find out.

'Yes, aunt Catherine, thank you very much. I know it is hard for you to accept that I am happy with Elizabeth, but I trust you will eventually come to see we were meant to be together. And I assure you, I'm very glad to know Lieutenant Wickham is not my brother. I am curious, though, why did you make it seem as if he was? Why warn us it was going to bad when it wasn't?'

Elizabeth's eyes grew until they almost burst out of their sockets, and she gestured frantically that he'd said something awful and to stop talking immediately. What was it? Looking at his aunt he could see he had somehow put his foot in it, but why?

Instead of throwing a tantrum, as Elizabeth was clearly expecting, aunt Catherine cracked but towards the other side. She sank into a chair as if her anger had suddenly been drained, taking her energy with it, and started to cry quietly. Aunt Catherine, crying? Elizabeth did not offer to comfort her, that would have been too much to ask, but she did sit down and waited for the old lady to speak up. Following her example, Darcy decided to sit on his aunt's other side, not next to Elizabeth, the poor woman was clearly distraught, and Darcy still didn't understand why, but she was his aunt and she needed his support since she had given up the right to Elizabeth's from the start.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh did not speak until she had regained her dignity, by which time her anger was back as well, though not as intensely as it had been.

'I will tell you why the content of these letters riles me up like nothing else, why your father's conduct was a blemish on his name even though he left no bastard children.

You know what it is like to love, Darcy, to be of one mind with someone, to feel what they feel, to want to make them happy at all cost. I loved my sister that way, I worshipped Anne and she loved me as much, we were two halves of one whole and needed no-one else in our lives. I was the elder but she grew up more quickly, and one day she told me she had fallen in love with a man and was going to marry him. He was rich, good-looking and flamboyant, and still he had an excellent reputation for being benevolent and kind. Remember, I was the belle of my time and I had admirers numbering in the dozens, but I hadn't the least intention of accepting any of them, I just wanted to enjoy myself dancing and going out, then return to my sweet sister.

And then that sister, who had always been in my shadow, shy of attention and preferring to stay at home, also because of her sensitive constitution, blithely told me she was getting married to some dashing fellow with a nice estate and a tolerable family. There really was nothing wrong with Darcy, except he was going to take Anne away from me and leave me bereft of the person I loved most in this world.

They married, she left, and since I had nothing to keep me at home with Anne gone, I accepted the most respected of my own suitors, Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose character wouldn't set the world on fire but who had a spotless reputation and a good heart.'

Darcy remembered his uncle as a kind man who had adored his daughter, but who had never shown his attachment to his wife as much as uncle Spencer did his. Sir Lewis had probably truly loved aunt Catherine once, but Darcy now understood why that love had cooled: once he found out his love unanswered it had probably soured his admiration for the most beautiful girl of her time. Sad, but not unthinkable.

Aunt Catherine was still explaining why she was so angry.

'And so our lives resumed, I was lonely for Anne but we wrote regularly, and though fate had put a whole country between our new homes, I managed to visit quite often. We also saw each other in town. It wasn't long before I found out Darcy had a reputation as a womaniser and a flirt, not with his own class but with the servants. He had a taste for cheap women, and finally brought one of them in his own household by marrying her to his steward. She first entered the family as Anne's nurse and my sister trusted her, Victoria Wickham did have certain skills and took excellent care of Anne when my sister started to really suffer from her affliction and her pregnancy. But I've always doubted her being a nurse to begin with, the way she dressed and her manners, they were not those of a nurse.

His letters to Victoria Wickham, the ones I had stolen by Hughes to prove to Anne she needed to leave him and come live with me, proved that even as his mistress Victoria didn't trust Darcy at all, she suspected him of having all kinds of affairs in London whilst she was waiting for him in Derbyshire, trying to please another man. But at least Darcy loved Victoria, those letters prove it. He never loved my sister at all, the sister I had let go to build her own life, but who was living a lie.

Don't we all want to give those we love the best, the best we have to offer?

He stole the one I loved best, and left her time and time again for others less worthy. I hated Victoria Wickham for being loved by two men when my sister wasn't loved by anyone. She was an angel, but Darcy let her die inch by inch all by herself, whilst he was chasing whores and hussies, or feasting with Victoria Wickham. And he doted on little George when he had a boy of his own, taller, smarter and much more worthy of his attention. There was nothing I could do, I couldn't expose him, I couldn't convince Anne to leave him, I could only keep an eye on Victoria Wickham to stop her from taking over Anne's household, and on Darcy so he didn't make a public spectacle of himself. Maybe I should have let him, then my sister might have believed me. She suspected him of consorting with Victoria, but somehow she didn't seem to care, especially not once she'd her little daughter to spoil. And you were such a comfort to her, Darcy, she often told me how much she admired you and what you did for her. But she never believed me that her husband chased skirts in the backstreets of London, and in hindsight maybe it is better she never did.

Your father never got the chance to lead you astray since I took care to have someone looking out for you. But he did get to his protègé and showed him his favourite side of life, Wickham taking to it as if he really was your father's son and not his steward's. But now you know, it was all a matter of a bad example. George Wickham may count himself lucky that you never gave up on him, I'd have left him to rot, he took your father's love from you and spurned his own father's. You always were too good to those who didn't deserve it. Like your father, but without the vice that made my dear sister's life a misery. If only she had never married and stayed with me, we would have been so much happier. She might still be alive today.'

Darcy was certain his aunt meant every word she said, but he supposed his mother would have begged to differ. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if she had been glad to escape her dominant sister's influence, even if the man she'd chosen wasn't perfect, maybe she'd even known before she accepted him. Moving back in with her sister must have been her worst nightmare, no wonder she had preferred to ignore her husband's weakness and keep her freedom. Poor Anne was living proof of what aunt Catherine's smothering love did to those depending on her.

Though sadly his father really hadn't loved his wife as Darcy didn't doubt his mother deserved, he had always looked out for her as much as he could. Not as good as Darcy would for Elizabeth, though. But frankly, his beloved wouldn't accept anything less, she had a lot more spunk than his mother had ever had. Fancy trying to get a mistress installed in a household run by his dearest Elizabeth! Even in this, aunt Catherine probably bore some responsibility: with her overbearing sister, Darcy's mother never had the chance to become truly independent, whereas Elizabeth had been raised by an almost negligent father, the two eldest sisters teaching themselves proper behaviour in total freedom. It had given Elizabeth an independent spirit that had no equal in Darcy's closest circles, probably the reason he had waited to fall in love until he chanced upon it elsewhere. But without Jane's natural delicacy restraining Elizabeth, giving her an excellent example, his beloved might have turned out as wild as Lydia but much, much smarter, her father's biting sarcasm probably the main influence on her character. That would have been too much for even Darcy, never mind how much he would have admired Elizabeth for it he would not have dared approach her. No, Elizabeth might count herself as lucky to have had Jane, as Jane might be to have learned from her sister's wit and quick mind, without which she would now be totally at the mercy of her sisters-in-law.

As his mother had been to her elder sister, who besides older had also been taller, stronger, more beautiful and popular, as well as headstrong and convinced of her own superiority over everyone else, her adored sister not excepted. No, poor Anne Darcy had no chance to insist on her husband treating her with respect, she had always been expected to follow another's lead.

'Well, I'll not keep you much longer,' aunt Catherine stated, 'I've had a delightful time with Mr Fielding, he played several of my favourites from my youth just now, while you were letting the Prince of Wales talk you into spending a fortune on some new fad. Orange trees! Next you'll be hiring your own French confectioner and eat sweets all day and drink wine all evening. I cannot deny I like my cocoa in the evening, much better than the tea you serve here, it wreaks havoc on my stomach like nothing else. And your coffee is so strong, Miss Bergman tells me they drink the same brew in the back of the house. No wonder your servants are all over the house, you should really check your staff more carefully. Miss Bergman says several of them are way above themselves, like that handsome servant you used to bring to Rosings, I suppose that's your valet? That one is easy enough to look at. But Anne's guard is positively frightening and Miss Bergman has encountered him in the front of the house more than once, making her feel rather unwelcome.'

Elizabeth answered playfully, undoubtedly to give aunt Catherine her instant due.

'Actually, Simon is Mr Manners' valet now, though we still love him like one of our own. And I suppose Mr Fowler does look a bit impressive when he is doing his duty, but you may assure your Miss Bergman that as long as she doesn't look above her place in this house she is perfectly safe. Mr Fowler only has orders to guard the second floor where his mistress resides. Barring any private rooms, Miss Bergman is free to move about on the floors below that, front or back of the house. But of course that is a matter of common propriety and well-known to a trustworthy member of your staff such as herself.'

'If only dear Anne could be certain that guard is as dependable as my Miss Bergman. I don't understand at all why my daughter would need that kind of protection under your roof, Darcy, but I suppose you'll say that is her business and Mr Manners'. I know when my advice is not wanted, though poor Anne may yet come to regret ignoring me. Miss Bergman says there are things going on on the second floor that will not stand up to scrutiny, and that Lord Chester is at the core of them.'

'I suppose Miss Bergman didn't like him catching her snooping, Lady Catherine. You know who Lord Chester is, and if you haven't told Miss Bergman, yet, I suggest you do so immediately. No-one in this house can afford to offend the heir to the throne, with however much familiarity and distinction he treats them.'

Darcy could see his aunt thinking, so Mrs Darcy knew what Prince George was about with other men's wives, but he could not read his aunt's reaction to this realisation. Maybe she hoped Elizabeth would fall for the prince and prove aunt Catherine right. She did however merely change the subject.

'Well, I've done my duty to you, Darcy, and now I'm going back to the drawing-room to see whether there is some more music to be had, or maybe some other entertainment. I liked that card game your sister taught us, Mrs Darcy, though it was rather simple. And maybe your father will turn up, people my age like to talk some sense now and then, with someone our own age. It's been rather lonely at Rosings recently, I suppose I'll have to find myself a companion of some sort, with Anne married and Mr Collins busy with his wife and child. Though Mrs Collins is often out and about these days, Miss Bergman says she has friends in the village. I do wonder that Mr Collins puts up with it, watching the child when his wife enjoys herself with who knows what.

Say, Darcy, with your sister married I suppose you let her lady companion go? She seemed very genteel, maybe she would be interested to live at Rosings with me?'

'Mrs Annesley is still in my employ, as housekeeper in my town house. She is certainly excellent company, but she is also a valuable member of my staff, I wouldn't like to have to do without her services. Besides, she has a family in London depending on her. Why don't you ask Miss Bergman to keep you company as well as tend to your personal needs? You seem to like her a great deal.'

'Miss Bergman in my drawing-room? Impossible! She's a maid! Though she is very well-mannered and genteel her parents were nobodies, even worse than your father's steward and his wife, I think they were farmers.'

'Mr Fielding's parents are cow-herds, Lady Catherine. That doesn't make him less pleasant company, does it?'

Had Elizabeth finally worn aunt Catherine down? She didn't even fly into a rage, or denounce her niece's talented husband. She merely sighed deeply.

'I read that in the paper but I just couldn't believe it. Is it indeed true? Did you allow your sister to marry a cow-herd's son? Never mind answering that, Darcy, I remember Spencer telling me now, he seemed inordinately pleased. What is the world coming to? I suppose I shall have to think about it. I like Miss Bergman, a lot, but I cannot have the people talking. You've given me much to think about, I do need company and I'd prefer to have someone I know and like. And trust. But now I'm going to find Mr Bennet and ask him how he can bear the world changing so much.'

Was this a good thing or really, really bad? Tending towards the latter, Darcy felt sorry for Fowler, who might have to face Lady Catherine de Bourgh trying to access the second floor. Not because he'd have trouble standing up to a lady of some influence, but because that would keep him away from Anne. Hopefully, Mr Bennet would soon rebuff aunt Catherine by being at his most offensive, they had what they wanted from her, she could go home now, and Darcy didn't particularly care in what mood.