Pemberley, 1791
Anne Darcy stormed into her husband's study without knocking, the door slamming against the wall. Such an action was unprecedented, testament to the upset she felt. "It has happened again. Are you going to turn a blind eye as you always do?"
George Darcy looked up in surprise. "Anne, whatever is the matter?" He stood quickly, going to her side immediately.
The Darcy men, for all their honor and intelligence were hopeless at gauging the feelings of those about them. Yes, Anne was upset, that much he could tell. What he could not see was the seething anger that was a hairsbreadth away of being unleashed.
"What is it always? George Wickham. Something must be done." When it came to young Wickham, Anne felt her husband was far too forgiving. No, forgiveness was not a factor, he would never even allow any blame to be assigned to the boy.
"Of what is he being accused of now?"
"Do you hear yourself? You do not ask what he did but rather of what he is accused, as if he could not possibly have done anything wrong. Do you really believe William, his cousins, aunts and uncles, the household staff, and your wife have all conspired to portray George Wickham in a poor light?"
"I know it has been difficult for you to accept the aid I have given young George. The Fitzwilliams have always thought highly of their position in society, but consequence and character are not limited to the upper circles, Anne."
"So, I am a snob, but you are humble egalitarian? That is laughable and you know it."
"Calm down, Anne." He saw her jaw clench. "I am merely trying to ease George's way. His father is an excellent man and George is my godson. I will not apologize for helping him or enjoying his company."
"And what of your own son?"
"Fitzwilliam is hardly bereft of advantages," Mr. Darcy retorted. "What is it you wish to be done? George is a good boy if a little excitable. In fact, it would be good if William showed a little of his spark."
"That will not be possible. At this very moment, William is being tended to for a broken collarbone."
"I suppose he said George is responsible," Mr. Darcy sighed. This argument had played out between them many times in the past.
"Do you think William injures himself?" She had closed the distance between them and now stood toe to toe, neither one of them backing down. "But, no, he did not say George was responsible. One of the undergardeners revealed it to Mrs. Reynolds. He saw George trip William at the top of the stone stairs leading to the spring. It was intentional."
"Boys play rough and sometimes they take things too far. It is just their nature." His wife seemed to be waiting for something more, but he had nothing more to offer her.
"And this is all the reply I am to expect? Keep that boy in line, George." She turned to leave but stopped at the door. "William has 'spark', as you say, you just cannot see it. He is also kind and thoughtful and smart. It is your loss that you do not see that."
~~PoR~~
Pemberley, 1794
"I am sorry about the loss of Mr. Wickham but that does not make his son your responsibility. He has been with us for four months, now. Would it not be better if he was with his mother so they may grieve together?" Mrs. Darcy was tired of fighting with her husband about George Wickham.
"It is challenging for her to see to George's needs in the midst of this tragedy," Mr. Darcy countered.
"I suppose I should not be surprised, as it is challenging for her to see to his needs at any other time as well." Mrs. Darcy liked and respected Mr. Wickham but had no similar feelings for his wife.
"Anne, it is not like you to be so unkind to those in need." Mr. Darcy took her hand which she pulled away after only the briefest of moments.
"And I would say it is not like you to attempt to manipulate me in such a manner, but we both know that is not true. Is this not always the way? George Wickham comes before us all."
"I am simply providing a little fatherly guidance, certainly you cannot begrudge that."
"At the expense of your own son. If you are going to take on such responsibility then do just that, be responsible. Teach him right and wrong, teach him the value of hard work, teach him to be generous and giving. If you are so insistent on helping him, hold him to the same standards you set for William. As it is now, you excuse his behavior far too much."
"His father just died. At a time like this, it would not hurt us to grant him a little grace."
"This grace, as you call it, is just a continuation of your pattern of indulgence for that troublesome boy. You never punish him, never attempt to check the worst of his behavior, and it only serves to encourage him to conduct himself in an increasingly unprincipled manner. He is entitled and covetous. You cannot see how he is taking advantage of you. What is most galling is that you punish William when he refuses to follow your example."
"I simply do not like bullying. William knows that."
Mrs. Darcy released a decidedly unladylike scoff. "William stands up for himself and others. Given everything that George has done, it is rich that you consider William the bully."
"William punched George, I saw it myself. I also saw the bruises William left on George on other occasions."
"Was it not you who said 'Boys play rough and sometimes they take things too far. It is just their nature'? That grieving boy has been taunting the staff and boasting about his status as your favorite. He made one of the maids cry, threatening to have her and her family removed from their positions, simply because she called him George."
"It is difficult for young George. He is lost and has no place among the servants yet is has no real place in our home. It is no wonder he is acting up."
"Excuses yet again. William has sustained far greater injuries at the hands of Wickham, yet you cannot scrape together a jot of sympathy for him."
"When I question Willliam, he admits to his poor conduct. Of course, I will punish him. I will not have my son act so boorishly. George, on the other hand, is always unwavering in his professions of innocence. I will not punish him based on no more evidence than the tittle-tattle of the servants or any others you may wish to malign him."
Mrs. Darcy was incredulous at such a response. "Do you care nothing about the provocation of William's actions? He does not act maliciously and thus has no reason to lie. George, on the other hand is a skilled liar. And I am all astonishment that you do not see it. So I must ask, are you really that naïve or just deliberately obtuse?"
Mr. Darcy ignored that comment. "William will just have to come to terms with George's presence. I have decided that he will be joining William's lessons with his tutors. They do not have much time before they will be off to school and George has some catching up to do."
"You will provide for his schooling now. Is that really necessary?" This news surprised Mrs. Darcy for they had not discussed it. Then, they discussed very little these days and their relationship was strained. Finally, the thought that had long consumed her, but that she never vocalized, spilled forth. "Is there something more at play? Is George Wickham your son?"
The question startled Mr. Darcy but his shock was soon overtaken by anger. "I will not dignify that question with an answer. How little you must think of me."
"It is precisely how little you think of you family that causes me to ask."
~~PoR~~
Pemberley, 1795
The doctor came out of William's room, leaving him to the nurse, while he spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Reynolds.
"It seems that young William has eaten something he should not have. He will have a nasty tummy ache but it, along with the rash and discomfort, will pass soon enough and he will be right as rain in a few days."
"What did he eat? He has been in all day. And according to the maid, he and George and the tutor all had the same meal," Mr. Darcy said.
"Based on the remnants on his plate, I would say it was walnuts. He did not finish so his reaction is not as severe as it could have been."
"All the kitchen staff know that William cannot have walnuts," Mrs. Darcy was distraught. They had discovered years ago that the food made William unwell and had taken precautions to keep them out of the kitchen.
"No harm done but send for me if things worsen." The doctor left them to discuss their patient.
"Mrs. Reynolds, you will assemble the kitchen staff and make it clear that no walnuts are to enter into this house." Mrs. Darcy was adamant that this would not happen again.
Mrs. Reynolds started to speak but looked at Mr. Darcy and held her tongue. Her mistress encouraged her to speak.
"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but I do not believe it was any of the staff. We do not have anybody new to their position who might not know about Master William's aversion to walnuts. Also, nothing on the plate called for nuts of any kind." She glanced at Mr. Darcy again, which he noticed.
"Am I to surmise that you lay the blame at George's feet. He somehow poisoned William?"
"I cannot say if that is the case, Mr. Darcy. I can only say that he was seen in the kitchens this morning as well as in the stillroom where he left a mess with the mortar and pestle.
"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. You are excused and I will not have any word of blame against George. Do you understand me?" Mr. Darcy was furious at yet another accusation against George.
"Yes, Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy." Mrs. Reynolds curtsied and quickly took her leave.
Mr. Darcy took his wife's arm and escorted her to their shared sitting room. "I have had it, Anne. This has got to stop."
"Yes, it does. What are you going to do about George?"
"You have all created this evil persona where George is concerned, and he has done nothing to deserve it. So, there is nothing to be done. However, since William will not be able to attend, I will take George to the horse sale in Derby tomorrow."
"I imagine that is just what George wanted. He was not invited and was jealous, so he had to do something to get his way."
"Anne, Anne, he is twelve but if one were to listen to you, he is the most devious wrongdoer in the county. I have let a lot of things pass in order to placate you. I did not say anything when you moved William out of the nursery and into his own rooms because George was 'tormenting' William. I allow William his time with his cousins and do not insist on George joining them, though it would be the polite thing to do."
"You truly are most magnanimous, Mr. Darcy. I am sorry I do not show enough gratitude."
"Sarcasm does not become you, Anne. Is calling me Mr. Darcy meant to put me in my place?"
"No, it is because I cannot stand the sound of your name anymore. It is forever tainted by your godson. I think of our beautiful Georgiana, just these few months old, and I am saddened that she shares any part of her name with that scoundrel. When we named her, I still believed you loved and respected your family more than George Wickham. Now, that boy and your stubbornness are putting your son in danger, but you refuse to see it. I want you to curb your attentions to Wickham."
"And if I will not?" he asked defiantly. He would not be ordered about by his wife.
"Then I see no reason to make Fitzwilliam easy prey to that predator. As long as George Wickham is in this house and enjoys your patronage, we will not be in it."
"The boys start school next year. William will not be able to hide behind you then," Mr. Darcy argued.
"That should not be a problem. If George goes to Eton, then William goes to Harrow or Westminster. If you send George to Cambridge, then William goes to Oxford."
"The Darcy men have always gone to Eton and Cambridge. I am William's father, and mine is the final authority when it comes to raising our children."
"How convenient that you only want to exercise your authority when George is involved. Need I remind you that you have two sons, rather two children."
"This again? I refuse to speak to such spurious claims. I am master of Pemberley, and I do not answer to you."
"Very well. You and George may enjoy your trip to Derby. However, know this now, we will not be here when you return. As a mother, I find protecting and nurturing my children far more important that wielding authority over them."
"You know as well as I that you cannot take my children without my consent."
"You know as well as I that I am the daughter of an earl. Do you really want to challenge my father?" Mrs. Darcy sighed, suddenly emotional. "I am tired of this. The dreams I had when we married are never to be, are they? I know part of that was youthful fancy, but I never imagined the hopes for my family would be dashed by the steward's son. But I swear to you, one more instance of you favoring George Wickham over your own son and daughter, and I will take them."
As the carriage brought George Darcy and George Wickham back from Derby, the elder George wondered for a fleeting moment if he would return to an empty house. He then decided it was but an idle threat on Anne's part, with William still recovering from his recent illness and Georgiana being of such a tender age, his wife would not wish to travel.
However, the moment he stepped into Pemberley he knew they were gone. It was not the quiet, for it was not as if Anne and William were loud, they could have just as easily been occupied with letters or studies. Any cries from the nursery would not be heard in the foyer. There was stillness that was almost preternatural. However, most telling was his reception from the staff. Clipped words, cold and polite tones, and if they bothered to meet his gaze, they looked upon him with either sad or angry eyes.
"A note for you, Mr. Darcy, from Mrs. Darcy." Mrs. Reynolds scurried away before he could thank her. He waited until he was in his rooms before he opened it.
Husband,
I sat here with pen and paper before me for hours, wondering how it all came to this. Words do not always come easy when one is in mourning. It is not hyperbole to say I feel the greatest sorrow. I mourn the loss of the idea, of the dream, of the honorable man I married. A man who has twisted his profound sense of honor in such a manner as to render our marriage vows hollow - Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. Make no mistake, it is asunder, husband. Doing a good thing is not always doing the right thing. In doing a good thing you have sacrificed your marriage and your children – your legacy – in order to fill an obligation that was not expected of you. Is it worth it?
The children and I are for Matlock, and we will remain with my family until some resolution can be found.
Your wife,
A
Mr. Darcy crumpled up the letter and tossed it into the fire. Obstinate, headstrong woman! If she expected him to run to her, she would have a long wait. He did not respond well to ultimatums.
In truth, he was not overly concerned. Anne would be back. She just needed to get over the worst of her anger. He was convinced once the boys were in school, she would return to Pemberley.
She did not.