Chapter 2
A little over a year ago...
Mr. Darcy was in his office at Darcy House, trying to complete his pending work. He had spent the last five years of his life almost exclusively working to keep the Darcy's fortune and prestige intact.
He succeeded and even increased the family fortune considerably, opening new enterprises and investments.
He was proud of himself. At only twenty-six, he had achieved what many took years to accomplish. Moreover, his peers respected and admired him, and many sought his friendship and advice, like his good friend Charles Bingley.
But there was one part of his life where Mr. Darcy was not successful: his personal life. He often did not know why he felt he had nothing if he had everything. His life was somewhat lonely, and except for a handful of friends, his cousin Richard and his sister Georgiana, he had no one in the world. He was not even romantic and did not aspire to marry for love. He only hoped to find a respectable woman with whom he could establish a cordial relationship and have a family.
Because of his reserved nature, he knew he could never court a woman flattering and feigning affection he did not feel. So he just wanted to find a woman looking for the same thing. Someone who would not mind respecting his silence and, above all, who would appreciate his labor and not force him to waste time at balls and social gatherings full of frivolous people like the one he attended the previous day.
To avoid thinking about that horrendous reality, he decided to start checking the accounting books as he did every time he was in London. After half an hour of intense scrutiny, he ascertained that everything was correct except for one item. He had spent the last three months in Pemberley, so he had not had a chance to review the London house accounts and business affairs.
That is why it caught his attention that his solicitor had stopped paying the monthly contribution to the Thompson House. That was a dear charity for his father, which he had always respected for that exact reason. He still remembered when his father, close to his last days, had requested that he take care of that institution and make a monthly contribution without fail. He knew it must be a particular cause because George Darcy used his mother's surname to name it. Beatrice Thompson was his paternal grandmother; he knew his father always loved and respected her very much.
Fortunately, Mr. Jones would arrive soon, and he would be able to clear his doubts. If there were a mistake, he would see that it was corrected immediately.
A few minutes later, Alfred Jones arrived at the appointment with the most important of his clients, ready to answer all his questions. The new Mr. Darcy was just as studious and concerned for his business as his father, though a good deal more severe despite his youth. Mr. Jones had worked for George Darcy for over twenty years, so he had known young Fitzwilliam since childhood and was very fond of him.
Once the solicitor arrived, Mr. Darcy greeted him, and they immediately began to analyze contracts and other documents related to the various businesses and investments of the Darcy family.
"Well, sir, I hope you have found everything in order, but please let me know if you have any questions. In the months you were working on your estate in the north, a lot happens here, too," explained Mr. Jones.
"Jones, as always, you have done a magnificent work. I congratulate you and all your associates for your thoroughness and honesty in everything you do, and I only have a question. It is a minor thing but important to me. What happened to the Thompson house that you stopped donating funds to that institution three months ago?"
Mr. Jones blushed slightly and tried to explain but just could not. He was honorable and hated being dishonest, especially with such an important client. If he lied, his client would not trust him anymore. "Mr. Darcy, that is a delicate subject... I would not..."
Mr. Darcy got a little angry and did not understand why Jones refused to answer his question. "As difficult as it is, you must explain what happened. My father expressly asked me to be in charge of ensuring that this organization never lacked anything. So either you tell me, or I will have to do my own research and find a new firm to represent my family's interest."
Mr. Jones was at an impossible crossroads, so he decided to explain the subject as best he could. "Mr. Darcy, before I was your solicitor, I was your father's. He trusted me, and I have honored that trust to this day. So I shall tell you what I know, but let me warn you that it is probably something you will not like. It is something related to a part of your father's private life that I am certain you never knew about. I want to be sure you understand the implication of this, so are you sure you want to know?"
Mr. Darcy was becoming more and more intrigued and responded immediately. "Whatever it is, I want, need, and must know."
"Well, sir, but I want to remind you that I shall reveal this only to you because you have requested me to do it. Otherwise, I would have taken this secret to my grave." Mr. Jones took a deep breath and began to explain the situation to Mr. Darcy.
The first thing he told his client was that the Thompson house was located in a small business district on the outskirts of London and that there lived a lady named Olivia Carter, who had unfortunately passed away a little over four months ago. "The last payments had been intended to cover funeral expenses and the doctor who had treated her in her final days."
"Only one woman lived in the Thompson house? And why did my father keep a house for that lady? What kind of relationship did they have?" asked Mr. Darcy, stunned.
Jones could not meet the young man's eyes. He knew what he would disclose would cause him great distress. "I cannot answer that question, sir. I can only tell you that they met more than twenty years ago, and since then, I have been taking care of all her expenses."
Mr. Darcy stood and began pacing his office incessantly. Just the thought that his father might have a hidden mistress like most men in the first circles made him nauseous. Indeed, there was another explanation for all that, and he would find it. "Jones, I imagine you know that house's address."
"Yes, sir. As a matter of fact, I was the one who bought it," replied the solicitor.
"I need that address. Could you please give it to me?" Asked Mr. Darcy, unable to say anything else. "Thank you for everything, Jones. I truly value your discretion in this matter," he added resignedly.
Mr. Jones wrote the address on a piece of paper and said goodbye, very concerned for his young client. Unfortunately, there was nothing more he could do for Mr. Darcy then.
P&P
Archibald and Agatha Stone were an elderly couple who had never had children despite how much they always wanted them. Archibald was Madeline Stone's Uncle, now married to a prosperous businessman named Edward Gardiner. The Stones were great people loved by everyone who knew them. They were originally from Derbyshire, from a small town full of kind and caring people.
Archibald's older brother, Madeleine's father, inherited the family business, a beautiful bookstore always well stocked with interesting books. So, Archibald immigrated to London at a very young age, searching for new opportunities. After several years of hard work, he finally established his own business, combining his passion for history and adventure.
Today, he was a renowned antiquarian, and he supplied the most elegant shops in London with exclusive pieces of art that he had acquired and restored. His wife Agatha had always supported him even though she did not understand the nature of her husband's work very well. Archibald's knowledge was so extensive that many professors from the most prestigious universities in the country consulted him for his opinion on art and history. His store was relatively small because much of it was dedicated to the restoration workshop. There, he stored and repaired objects from all parts of the world.
Unfortunately, Agatha had a domestic accident that reduced her mobility, so she spent many hours alone, only in the company of a servant. Madeline tried to visit her Aunt as much as she could, but the distance between their houses and her young children did not allow her to see her as she would like. So when she learned about Elizabeth's situation in Longbourn, she thought maybe her niece could be good company for her Aunt.
Mrs. Bennet was furious with Elizebeth because she rejected Mr. Collins, and perhaps a few months away from her would help to soothe the situation.
Elizabeth had been with the Stones for over a month and was happy that she had accepted her Aunt's proposal. They were, without a doubt, two lovely people who made her feel welcome from the moment she arrived at their home. She had known them since she was a little girl and always liked them. But she never had the opportunity to get to know them as well as she knew them now. Aunt Agatha was patient, and despite all the difficulties she had with her broken leg, she never complained about it, while Uncle Archibald was such a wise man willing to share his wisdom with everyone.
"Uncle Archibald, what is that?" Elizabeth asked, laughing.
"This is a ceremonial pipe, my dear niece. It is nearly two hundred years old and belonged to a West Indian tribe," Archibald explained.
"Did the natives of those territories also smoke?" Elizabeth asked curiously.
"Of course, and long before us because tobacco is originally from their land," Archibald told Elizabeth a bit more about the history of that ancient pipe, and she listened in fascination.
"Thank you, my dear Uncle," Elizabeth said, smiling. She was so comfortable in the Stone's house that she felt she should always thank them.
"Thank you for what, my sweet girl?" Archibald did not understand why Elizabeth was always so grateful when they were the ones who should be thankful for her company and good disposition. The young lady had brought light to their lives with her music and wonderful smile.
"For everything, Uncle. I am delighted to be here with you and Aunt Agatha," Elizabeth replied excitedly.
Archibald smiled and asked Elizabeth to go to the front of the store and open a box that had arrived in the morning. "Lizzy, the shipment is some French silver and bronze items that belonged to the last monarchy. Apparently, they were hidden for a long time, so they must be full of dust. Can you take inventory before your Aunt awakes? I shall be occupied working on this pipe for several hours, and James has not learned how to write yet."
"I shall do it, Uncle. Please, do not worry about it." Elizabeth was happy to help and repay the Stone's hospitality somehow. So she went to the front of the store, opened the box, and began to clean the objects full of dust, as her Uncle had described.
P&P
After several days of thinking about it, Mr. Darcy went to that place. The house was small, and the neighborhood, although quite lovely and tidy, was full of shops where most of those who lived there were probably in trade. Inside the house, what caught his attention was the yellow color of practically all the house walls. He remembered that his mother hated that color, and the older Pemberley's servants always said she had remodeled all the yellow rooms.
Looking for answers, he decided to spend the night in that place and return the following days, but as much as he searched and searched, he could not find anything significant. Then, finally, on the fourth day that he was there, someone knocked on the door. Since he had no servants, he opened it and let in a man who asked him for a few minutes to speak with him.
"Excuse me, sir, my name is Arthur James. I am your neighbor and the doctor who cared for Mrs. Thompson in her last days. Are you related to her or her late husband?"
"Her late husband? Mr. Thompson?" he asked, intrigued.
"Yes, Mr. George Thompson. Probably, I am not the first who told you that you look a lot like him, but I know they did not have any children; otherwise, I would think you are George's son," replied the doctor.
Mr. Darcy did not know what to say; he could hardly breathe from how nervous he was, and he replied with the first thing that came to his mind. "I am George's nephew, and my name is William Thompson."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Thompson. I am glad someone from the family has come. Our dear Olivia asked us to keep a little box with her memories in our house, and if no one from the family came through the house in six months, we should get rid of it. Do you want me to bring it to you?"
"Yes, please," answered Mr. Darcy eagerly.
In a few minutes, the doctor returned with the small box, handed it to Mr. Darcy, and gave him a key in a sealed envelope. Then, the doctor said farewell, leaving Mr. Darcy nervous and thinking about what to do.
Mr. Darcy felt ashamed and did not want anyone to know about the Thompson House. He did not trust anyone, not even his most loyal servants, with a secret like this. He asked his coachman to fetch him at six o'clock in a park seven blocks from the house. So, he took the box and walked to the small park where his carriage awaited him.
As soon as he arrived at Darcy House, he locked himself in his bedroom and opened the box. It was full of letters and a few almost worthless jewels. Some of the letters were very difficult to read because they were old.
His father had written them, he could recognize his handwriting among millions, and he signed as George Thompson in all of them. From what he could read, he learned that Mrs. Parker was the daughter of an accountant who worked in one of the towns near Pemberley. Apparently, there was nothing more than platonic love for many years between them. His father had married Lady Anne and Olivia, a minor merchant who worked in London. But when Olivia was widowed just a few years after her marriage, George sought her out, and they began a passionate affair that lasted a little over twenty years.
From the letters, Mr. Darcy learned that his father had never loved his mother and that she did not love him either. Their parents had arranged their marriage, which was the only reason they were together. In the letters, George Darcy referred to his wife with respect and consideration. Still, he said she was a timid woman uninterested in him or anyone else's company. Anne Darcy loved to spend her time engaged in solitary activities such as painting, embroidery, and playing the piano.
Mr. Darcy could not help but cry as he remembered how his mother could spend hours at his side without saying a single word. Usually, she sat her little son next to her, and little Fitzwilliam read while she embroidered.
In those letters, George Darcy spoke and told stories the same way he did with Wickham. He could not help but imagine that with Olivia Parker, his father had been the kind and loving husband he had never been with his mother. Just as with Wickham, he had been understanding and kind, while he had always been severe and extremely strict with him.
Mr. Darcy felt that his entire world changed forever after discovering his father's secret life, and he did not know what to do with all these new truths. He was grateful that Georgiana was spending time with the Countess in Matlock and that Richard was in Newcastle for the next few months. They would be the only ones to notice his uneasiness, and he was not prepared to tell anyone what he had discovered.
"The only way for me to know what your other life was like, father, is to be someone else," Mr. Darcy said as he wiped away tears.
After several days, he asked his solicitor to get the Thompson house up and running again. Now, the house had a few servants who would make his life as comfortable as possible. He would be William Thompson, nephew of George and Olivia, who was spending a few days in the house before deciding what to do with it.
He discovered that Olivia lived a reasonably modest life. Evidently, his father did, too, when he spent time with her. Everyone thought George Thompson was a tradesman who traveled a lot for his business and assumed he did something similar. That made things easier because he did not have to create a new life.
Mr. Darcy had been in the place for five days and adapted to this life. He was already used to how uncomfortable such a small house could be. Also, he liked to look out the window of his room on the second floor and see all the hustle and bustle that started very early in the morning. He did not know how long he would stay there, but he assumed until he understood why his father spent so much time there.
P&P
Although Elizabeth was happy with the Stones, she felt melancholic. She missed her family, especially Jane and her father.
When Mr. Collins appeared at Longbourn, her mother decided to marry one of her daughters to him, except Jane. She said she could get a better prospect because she was the most beautiful of them.
Elizabeth explained to her mother in every possible way that she could not marry a man she could never respect or admire, but Mrs. Bennet did not listen. When her father supported her in rejecting Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet was furious. Still, when Mr. Collins married Charlotte, she began to complain daily about her lack of consideration for her family and made sure she could not leave the house, and no one visited her.
As a result, Elizabeth spent almost a month locked up and crying practically every day until her Aunt Gardiner helped her escape the prison that Longbourn had turned into.
Elizabeth had been cleaning the silverware for nearly an hour and did not realize that her dress and face were as dusty as her hands.
Mr. Darcy went out for a walk around the neighborhood to see if he could meet someone to give him more information about Olivia and George. That was how he came to a small street almost at the end of the main avenue. There, a reasonably large and charming house seemed to have a small shop on the side. The place was a little different from the ones in the neighborhood, so he got closer to see it better. At that moment, he realized the small store on the side was an antique shop. His father was a great collector of books and objects with history, and perhaps the store owner could provide some information.
He entered the place and was amazed at everything he saw around him. It was not an ample space but was full of history and probably valuable objects. Then, suddenly, he heard something falling to the floor, and turning around, he saw a dirty woman taking what appeared to be a silver candlestick out of a trunk. "Put that back where it belongs immediately, or I shall call the magistrate, you little thief."
Elizabeth turned and saw a tall, well-dressed gentleman threatening and insulting her. "You can call whoever you want, sir, but do shout at me, please," Elizabeth said, turning her back on the man, a little embarrassed by her appearance. The man was young and quite handsome, although obviously very bad-mannered.
"How dare you speak to me like that, woman? Do you not know who I am?" Mr. Darcy asked. That woman was so brazen and did not know her pace. Wealthy and beautiful ladies always spoke cordially to him, and that insignificant and rather ordinary creature dared to talk to him disrespectfully.
Elizabeth turned quite exasperated and told him. "I have no idea who you are, sir. Before you introduced yourself and heard who I was, you started accusing me," Elizabeth replied defiantly.
"I am Fitz…William Thompson and I live near here. Now that you know who I am, I shall call the magistrate. This is a decent neighborhood and…."
Archibald, who had heard part of the argument, went to the front of the shop and intervened. "Sir, thank you for looking after the integrity of my business, but this lady is my niece, and she is helping me. I am Archibald Stone, and this is my niece, Elizabeth Bennet. I assume you are George's nephew. Dr. James told me about you. George and I were friends for a long time, and let me tell you, you look very much like him."
"Uncle, I think it is best if I return to the house," said Elizabeth, who only wanted to wash up and look decent.
Mr. Darcy forgot all about the incident with Elizabeth when he heard that the older man was his father's friend. "Pleased to meet you, sir. I am very sorry about the incident with your niece; I was suspicious and confused when I saw a woman like her with such a valuable item in her hands."
Archibald preferred not to say anything, but his friend's nephew had horrendous manners and did not know how to measure his words. "Well, let us forget what just happened. Chests containing antiques tend to be dusty."
Elizabeth was wiping her hands, and she could still listen to what the men were saying, and when she heard the arrogant man say with some sarcasm in his voice, "A woman like her," she wanted to return to the store and put him in his place.
Her mother had always compared her to Jane, so her self-esteem was fragile. She entered the house through the side door and went up to her room, where she looked at herself for several minutes in the mirror. "I do not know why I give so much importance to that pompous and conceited fool if, fortunately, I shall never see him again in my life."
Aunt Agatha notified her that Uncle Archibald had invited some friends from the literary society to dinner. That information cheered Elizabeth and made her forget the whole incident with that horrible man.
Elizabeth took a bath and put on her best dress. She also asked Molly to make her a lovely hairstyle. That evening, she wanted to look pretty and elegant to flatter her self-esteem. Elizabeth did not know that her Uncle had stayed an hour talking with William and had invited him to dinner to answer the young and curious man's questions.
Elizabeth helped her Aunt Agatha into the drawing room's main chair so that she could welcome the guests from there. "Lizzy, promise me you will sing; you know how much I like your voice," she asked kindly.
"If you insist, I have no choice but to indulge you, my dear Aunt," Elizabeth replied.
The gentlemen and their wives arrived an hour before dinner time. They were chatting animatedly in the drawing room when Mr. Darcy arrived. He hated being late but did not have formal clothes in the Thompson House. He did not expect anyone to invite him to dinner, so he had to go to Darcy House, which was more than an hour away. Also, he had to do everything as discreetly as possible to avoid comments from his servants.
The butler led him to the main room, where several older couples conversed. But among all those older people was a young woman with a beautiful smile and the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. She was laughing so merrily that her lovely smile was contagious.
His host, seeing him entering the room, went to receive him. "William, I am happy that you came. But, first of all, let me introduce my wife. My dear, this is William Thompson, George's nephew. And this is my niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, whom you met some hours ago."
Mr. Darcy was a little nervous in the presence of the attractive young lady, but when he saw her smile fade at the sight of him, he realized who that woman was and could not help but feel uncomfortable.
P&P
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This story is available on K an KU: I already knew you, by Miranda Flan