Fitzwilliam Darcy
Pemberley, Derbyshire
"And this is the words you have for me? The news that you have not found a wife, the opposite outcome as you had been instructed to present to me?" George Darcy, master of all of Pemberley, along with several estates across the country, some in Scotland, and properties in the colonies, stared down his only son.
Fitzwilliam Darcy, manfully, did not squirm despite the hot daggers that were in his father's eyes.
"I did send a letter-"
"And is that how I raised you?!" George was already in his cups, Darcy noticed. Not even noon, and the old man had been at the brandy. For one long moment, Darcy regretted leaving Georgiana behind but she was not yet out, and a season in London with nothing to do but stay home at Darcy house while he himself went out… well he'd had few choices about the matter. Until she was married, or twenty-one, Georgiana was stuck under the tender care of their father. At least George had the sense not to beat the child that was his namesake. Darcy could not say that he had fared so well as a youth as Georgiana did now.
"It was not as if I did not look, Sir," Darcy said, choosing his words carefully. His father scrutinized him with narrow eyes, before letting out a huff of a laugh.
"Ah yes, particular Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy," George said, his words laced with cruelty and mockery. "There is not a woman alive that would catch your eye, is that it? I had word you did not even visit the bawdy houses-" Darcy blanched, and George Darcy laughed loudly. "Yes, my agent had quite the time, keeping me abreast of your activities, as boring as they were. Dullard, is your son, Mr. Darcy, he said. Doesn't drink and doesn't wench as most young men might."
That his father'd had him followed should not have come as such a surprise, and yet it did. Darcy felt injured, that his father regarded him with so little respect as to infringe upon his privacy in that manner. He also was somewhat grateful that whatever agent his father had used was poor in his detective work, since Darcy had indeed visited not a bawdy house, but a place of evening entertainments for the discerning gentleman with Mr. Bingley at his side. He was a good man, but he was not a saint, and saw no reason to remove himself entirely from the comforts of women until he was married. Why, he might not have any idea of what to do with the girl if he had waited to discover the true nature of his husbandly duties on the night of his wedding!
"I have nothing to offer, Sir, other than my apologies for not doing as you bade me. I did look, and indeed sought to find a wife for myself, but I did not find a girl who suited me and one who I felt would be a credit to the Darcy name," Fitzwilliam finally said, hoping that his quiet and apologetic manner would be enough to satisfy his father. It was not.
George Darcy banged his fist on the side table next to the chair he occupied, and Darcy had to fight not to jerk in surprise at the noise and movement.
"And what of this Mr. Bingley," George sneered, leaning forward in his seat. "Did he find a woman suitable for himself?"
There was a hint in his father's voice that made Darcy's spine tighten and tingle. He looked at the older man, a frown on his face.
"I apologize, but I do not follow, Sir," he said, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. The corner of George's mouth quirked up, and a nasty smile sprawled across his face.
"Is that women are not suitable to you, Fitzwilliam?" he asked, and suddenly the meaning of his words were all together too clear. Darcy felt his stomach tighten up and he tried not to recoil.
"I do not find the company of men appealing in that manner, if that is what you are implying, Sir," Darcy said with vehemence. George just chuckled and leaned back in his seat.
"Well that is good news then, quite good news," he replied, and the words were half-muttered, half-slurred. Darcy felt his stomach uncoil, somewhat. Still, he was uneasy, wary. Men who sought the companionship of other men… well, no one was safe from the taint of that sort of rumor, and Darcy did not relish spending any time fighting the stains that would leave on his reputation especially since it was wholly untrue!
"Is there anything else, Sir?" he asked, as he watched his father, who's head was nodding down against his chest. George jerked his head up again and glared at him, pointing one bony finger at him.
"You will find yourself a wife!" he snapped, and then growled. "I will not have my son be known to turn away a woman, not have my line stained by a son who would be unmanned other men! I have arranged… yes, I have arranged, for you to wed the daughter of one of my greatest and longest acquaintances."
Fear suddenly suffused Darcy's emotions as he stared at his father. Was the man mad? He had arranged for a marriage without Darcy's consent? It was not as if he were a babe in arms, for such a thing to be discussed, and he knew that it had been intimated that he should wed his cousin, Anne, but never with any great seriousness.
"Who is this… pardon, my questions are many, Sir, but I had not known you were planning on arranging for a wife for me," Darcy said, stumbling over his words. George cackled, clapping his hands together.
"Yes, well, debts must be paid, and a Darcy never owes! So I will pay my debt to John and rid myself of the shameful rumors surrounding you at the same time. You're lucky, Boy, since he has five daughters all told, although one is not out. You'll have your pick. The eldest is reputed to be quite the beauty, and the rest are tolerable enough that getting yourself an heir will be of no great difficulty, even if you do indeed suffer from unnatural tastes," George finished with a grunt, sitting back in his seat and scowling at his son. For his part, Darcy could do nothing but stare at his father, unsure of how this turn of events had occurred, or to whom he owed thanks for the terrible rumors that had apparently surrounded him without his ever knowing.
"I am grateful that you have looked out for my welfare in this manner. When am I to meet the ladies in question?" he asked, his voice steady despite his tumultuous feelings inside. George sighed and closed his eyes slowly, his head leaning back against his chair.
"As soon as may be arranged. Within the next month or two."
"And if none of them suit me?"
"Damn it, Boy, if none should suit you then you might no longer consider yourself a Darcy," George snarled, his eyes flaring open, blazing with fury. "You will find one to your liking, and you will get her with heir, or I will pass over you in favor of other, more palatable men that may not be of my own damn blood, but might as well be! Now get out. I should be without your company for a few hours, and be happy to be alone."
New chapters uploaded on Fridays, but you may find it in its entirety on Amazon now by searching for 'Nora Kipling - A Required Engagement'.