by Kay Mares
A shadow passes over Anne’s face along with a very faint frown. She does not particularly care for the boy’s forward manners even at this tender age, but she does not voice her qualms to her son. Fitzwilliam assumes she is not pleased to suspend her pleasure at the pianoforte, so he tells her that he will go into the manor with her now. “No Love, you go and enjoy yourself, I will wait on you. Do not be too long.” Anne forces a smile on her face aware of the penetrating blue eyes which are studying her closely.
“Thank you, Mother. You will not wait long, I promise.” Fitzwilliam then kisses her cheek softly and lovingly. “I love you, Mother.” Then with a dash of pure male energy, he is off, down the path leading to the Wickham’s cottage. Anne sighs. Fitzwilliam is such a mixture of maturity and playfulness, sternness and love. He will grow into a complicated man, and only a woman strong enough to see past his barriers will be able to know the real person. Not many ladies of Society have that kind of mettle. Add in Fitzwilliam’s obvious intelligence along with his honesty and the task to keep him happy will be a daunting one but highly rewarding for that one particular lady. Anne does not have long to wait because just as he promised, Fitzwilliam returns to the manor promptly where they both indulge in their shared passion for music. Fitzwilliam sings with her and Anne notes with pleasure his voice is becoming more refined along with a talent for song. Afterward, they enjoy refreshments together before Fitzwilliam goes to his tutors for more studies. As they drink and talk, he tells her about his rapid meeting with George.
“Seems little George is quite put out. Apparently, Father spoke with Mr. Wickham and encouraged Mr. Wickham to allow one of my tutors to have some time with George. Father wishes for George to spend some time in serious pursuits instead of running amok about the grounds. Mr. Wickham agreed naturally, but George is most displeased.” Fitzwilliam has a gleam in his eyes knowing his young friend hates it when anyone gives him orders of any kind, but he cannot go against the Master of Pemberley. When Fitzwilliam departs to do his lessons with his tutors, Anne seeks out her husband. She finds him in his study along with Grandfather Darcy, and the two are hashing over a particularly profitable deal for the estate along with discussing the needs of the tenants. Anne requests and is granted permission to enter, and she takes a seat while she waits for the men to finish their exchange.
Grandfather Darcy excuses himself with a bow to Anne and makes his way to change in preparation for a ride with Fitzwilliam once the boy has completed his lessons. Anne draws a breath as she addresses her husband. Gregory is always kind and respectful to his wife and that he adores her is without question. He appreciates her wisdom which is unusual in a world where females are more to be seen not heard, however even with all of that, he is still the Master, and as such, he ultimately makes all decisions and rarely changes his mind. He can be, in a word, obstinate. Gregory acknowledges his wife once more and waits to hear her speak. “I cannot like the idea of Fitzwilliam’s tutors spending time with George. I do not understand why you wish to invest so much in the child.” Anne does not dislike the boy; rather his very presence gives her pain as it brings forth distressing memories.
Gregory chuckles first. “It is not as if we cannot afford to do so.” Then he sobers. “Call it what you will, Anne, guilt maybe, a feeling of responsibility, whatever you wish but I cannot let the child suffer over the sins of the father.” Gregory holds up a hand to stifle his wife’s protests. “I am aware of your arguments, and they are sound but let us not forget that Sir Lewis acted recklessly when here last. He had a dalliance with Mrs. Wickham which produced the child then he walked away allowing Mr. Wickham to care for the boy as if he is the father.” Gregory’s voice raises a bit as the discussion of his late brother-in-law’s poor behavior leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “Then when the impertinent Mrs. Wickham went to Rosings to demand an inheritance from the de Bourghs and was coldly and callously dismissed, why I believe that incident, combined with the loss of her daughter, is what forced the unfortunate woman to take her own life. She did it in a spiteful manner even though the very act itself is spiteful. She hung herself in Sir Lewis’s own hunting cabin in the woods. We are fortunate scandal did not attach itself to any of us.”
Anne hangs her head. Her sister and her sister’s husband had acted cruelly towards a woman far beneath them. Sir Lewis used Mrs. Wickham to satisfy his baser desires while on an extended stay at Pemberley, and Lady Catherine treated the woman with contempt and scorn even though Mrs. Wickham was not solely at fault. The only honorable persons in the whole affair are Gregory and Mr. Wickham. Mr. Wickham for never questioning the child’s parentage and Gregory for trying to elevate the boy beyond what he was born into. Anne suffers with seeing the product of her sister’s shame, but interestingly Lady Catherine never seems to be affected. Instead, she remains at Rosings and ignores the boy’s presence. Gregory softens his voice once more as Anne dabs at tears. “I could not send George away without arousing suspicion. I have heard the mutterings too, some believe the boy to be mine, but we know the truth of the matter.”
Gregory comes from behind his massive desk and kneels before his wife, gently taking her hands in his as he addresses her again. “Anne, it is best this way. With George here, your sister and niece are protected as is Rosings from a claim by George. Here I can give him more than if he is revealed as the bastard child of Sir Lewis. Can you imagine the pain which would accompany that scandal? What if Society were to find out? Your sister has few friends, and many would side with George Wickham just to bring your sister low. I am protecting your family, Anne. What else would you have me do?” Gregory beseechingly looks at Anne.
“I know, My Husband and I accept your wisdom in this matter. It pains me to know my sister acts with malice and spite and her husband never once expressed sorrow for the despair he caused. Every time I see young George, it is as if the whole sordid mess just occurred. Forgive me for saying so, but I can hardly stand the sight of him. It is wrong and ill of me.” Gregory gathers her into his arms and comforts her. He cannot allow her to take on any blame for the actions of others and it grieves him that he is unable to come up with a more satisfying solution for all of them. Mr. Wickham is an excellent steward, so Gregory feels compelled to try to right the wrong which has been perpetrated on the man. The de Bourghs have been and always will be a pain in his backside he fears. Too bad one ends up married to the whole family so to speak when one takes a bride. Anne’s soft muttering brings him to the present once more. “I do not like how George treats Fitzwilliam. Even at this young age, I see resentment in the boy which is often directed at Fitzwilliam.” Anne confesses.
“Do not fret about Fitzwilliam. With the intelligence and acumen he has displayed already, he will be a formidable force. Have you noticed as well that he sprouted up another inch? He will be taller than me for cert.” Gregory sobers once more, “Leave the fretting to me. I will protect you and our son above all others.” Anne smiles into his chest. His words give comfort, and Gregory has never let her down.
When December arrives, the Darcys ready for the Christmas season which young Fitzwilliam anticipates. He has not a care in the world. Interestingly about some one hundred and thirty plus miles away in a place named Hertfordshire, a baby girl is born on December sixteenth. A cold rain begins and the Master of Longbourn remarks on the impertinent storm which has cast a pall over the birth of his second daughter. The man chuckles at his wry observation as the mother cradles the infant and comments that the child has vexed her with her early birth right before the Christmas festivities. Mr. Bennet chuckles again as he observes dryly that perhaps this child will be headstrong and determined as much as her older sister is passive and serene. If Master Fitzwilliam had any inkling of the importance of the birth of this baby, he may have noted the date and committed it to memory – Dec. 16th, 1792.
Chapter 6
The next couple of years are blissful for Fitzwilliam. Birthdays are large gatherings of family and friends while Anne and Grego
ry share a private chuckle over their fastidious son who spends hours after the other children leave, rearranging his toys back to the exact places he had them prior. Victor, Fitzwilliam’s valet, reports that he never has to clean up discarded clothes from the young Master nor is he ever required to tidy the dressing room closet where all of Fitzwilliam’s clothes hang in a precise and particular manner as placed there by Fitzwilliam himself. The order actually makes better sense than the previous routine. Victor voiced his appreciation of Master Fitzwilliam’s orders being more along the lines of a request and his use of please and thank you each and every time.
Gregory and Anne are in a small parlor where they allow Fitzwilliam to keep all of his toys, watching him as he puts the room to right after some neighborhood friends visited. The serious frown the boy sports as he painstakingly returns the room to order, his order, makes Gregory snicker. He cannot help but nudge a small wooden boat, which Grandfather Darcy had carved for Fitzwilliam, out of the precise place the boy secured it. With a deepening frown, Fitzwilliam notes the variance, moves the boat back to its original position then fixes his eyes with the startling blue depths on his father’s merry face. A slight grin comes to the boy as he turns away, but Fitzwilliam keeps a wary eye on his father just in case another toy moves.
Anne tries not to worry over her son’s seriousness and shyness as she strives to bring out his humor more. She learned that as a toddler Fitzwilliam was extremely ticklish and the sound of his laughter warmed her heart. While they still find whimsy and silliness in the ordinary life about them, she sees Fitzwilliam is very cautious about who he allows to see his humor. Anne is relieved when she notes some loosening of his strictness when a few of the children from neighboring estates visit, and she is grateful for the jovial and always funny Henry Fitzwilliam, second son of Lord and Lady Matlock. Their oldest son Colin is five years older than Fitzwilliam and often does not engage with the younger children, but Henry is only three years Fitzwilliam’s senior and the two are inseparable. Should Fitzwilliam become quiet or sour, Henry relentlessly teases him until soon Fitzwilliam retaliates with his own wit or humor. The constant banter back and forth between the two often makes the adults laugh. Since the Matlock estate is within an easy distance of Pemberley, the cousins are together often. As soon as Henry arrives, Fitzwilliam’s reticence drops and they are off on an adventure.
Fitzwilliam, it appears has developed another habit, but this one is not so innocent. More often than not, he returns to the manor with his shirts torn or stained. Anne does not know if she should scold him over the ruined garments or rejoice that he is starting to become more outgoing. Usually, he has a good reason why his shirt is destroyed, at least a good enough reason for a nine to ten-year-old boy. These reasons range from rescuing a duck from the reeds by the nearby pond to cleaning the dirt off from around Sheldon’s eyes. Both dubious reasons at best. Gregory jests that Pemberley will go broke from replacing Fitzwilliam’s shirts. One incident involved Henry and caused both parents to be perturbed with their son.
Henry brought over a filly for Fitzwilliam to try out and did not tell him the horse is barely broke. Even though Fitzwilliam is to be present when certain esteemed guests arrive, that did not stop him from engaging in the ride as the horse is already saddled. The boys dash away towards the creek and unknown to Fitzwilliam, the filly does not like water and will not jump water. Instead, she locks all four legs as she comes to a sudden halt and ducks her head. Fitzwilliam flies over her head and lands in a thick pile of gooey mud alongside of the creek’s edge. Henry is no help as he is beside himself with laughter as he watches his persnickety cousin pull first one boot from the mud then the other. The scowl on Fitzwilliam’s face belies his anger, and therein Fitzwilliam becomes Fitz to Henry because if he wasn’t causing someone to have a fit, he is having one himself.
As expected, Fitz is late, muddy and smelly, so Anne and Gregory have a fit as well. After a good bath and a lengthy apology to the honored guests, Fitzwilliam is excused for the night with orders to write an explanation of what occurred along with an apology. Henry told the story later and said Fitz threw another fit when he was required to do the writing. In typical Fitzwilliam fashion, he chronicled every detail of the event and mailed another copy to Lord Matlock, so Henry received quite a tongue lashing from his father after he read the missive. A few weeks later, Henry came to the manor to visit, and he entered the foyer where Fitzwilliam had just removed his outer clothing after a soaking rainstorm. Fitzwilliam left a puddle on the marble floor, but before he could call attention to it for the servants to mop up, Lady Anne and Mrs. Reynolds discover Henry in the hall, dripping wet from the same rain and upbraid him for the puddle. Fitzwilliam stands by with an ever-widening grin on his face. After the ladies leave, Henry narrows his eyes at his younger cousin, “Well?”
“It is repayment for you causing me to be unhorsed and the subsequent trouble I found myself in.” Fitzwilliam sniffs.
“So you blew a fit. Fitz, you are nothing short of diabolical.” Henry grins as the two make their way to the kitchen where more than likely some hot soup awaits them.
However, there are two incidents which give Anne pause as they do not seem to be as innocent as the rest. The first occurred when Fitzwilliam had just turned nine. He was out playing somewhere on the grounds with George, and when he returned this time, his shirt was not only soiled, but it was ripped and bloody. Victor helped him remove the shirt so Anne and Mrs. Reynolds could assess and clean the nasty deep scrap which ran almost the length of the inside of his left arm. A thorough scrubbing along with a soothing salve healed the wound, but it left a scar there which Fitzwilliam would carry for rest of his life. He explained that he and George were daring each other to walk the top rail of a wooden fence and Fitzwilliam slipped and fell. As he fell, he reached out with his left arm which raked down the roughhewn fence post causing the injury. Anne narrowed her eyes at the mention of George Wickham being present, but she said nothing further.
The second time involved Sheldon and once more George Wickham. Apparently, George goaded Fitzwilliam to try to jump the pony over a brush pile. Fitzwilliam did, and the little Shetland did not quite clear the pile. Instead, it caused the equine to trip when he landed, and Fitzwilliam came off. He fell into the edge of the brush pile and received a gash and puncture to his right thigh from a sturdy branch. In addition to a torn shirt, a pair of breeches met their end. While Mrs. Reynolds was procuring the necessary supplies to clean and dress the wound, Anne questioned her son along with Gregory. When Fitzwilliam relayed the part about George Wickham urging him to do something foolish, Anne raised her brows and pierced her husband with a knowing look. Gregory requested for Fitzwilliam to meet him in the study after he changed and had his wound attended.
Fitzwilliam enters and observes his father pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. He waits for his father to speak. “Son, I understand what has happened, but I will ask you two very important questions.” Gregory stares hard at his son for a moment so he will realize the seriousness of what he is telling him. “First of all, is your pony injured? Did you check him over after your fall?” Assured by Fitzwilliam the pony has not suffered and was properly gone over, Gregory continues, “that pony is your responsibility, and you must take that responsibility seriously. Sheldon needs you to think for him and to protect him, to keep him from harm. When you do something rash such as this, oftentimes it is the innocent one who pays the price. You are fortunate Sheldon is uninjured.” Gregory pauses as he lets the words sink in, witnessing the shame as it envelopes Fitzwilliam. He loves his pony and would not consider causing the animal harm. “The second question I have for you is simple. Are you or are you not your own man?” At this Fitzwilliam’s head snaps up and his eyes narrow as he stares at his father. “Well, I am waiting for a reply.”
“I am my own man,” Fitzwilliam states although he has a sinking feeling he knows where this exchange is leading.
“Then
why would you allow another to decide for you what you will or will not do? A Darcy man always makes his own decisions based on wisdom and compassion, honesty and integrity. A Darcy man never makes hasty or rash decisions nor does he allow another to force him to do something which he ordinarily would not.” Gregory watches as his son digests the words and mulls them over in his mind. Then Mr. Darcy braces himself for the multitude of questions to come. It is not long before they are speaking of duty and responsibility, honor and courage, what makes someone decisive and strong as opposed to indecisive and weak. The talk lasts over forty-five minutes wherein Gregory has decided not to lash his son as was his first impulse. It seems as if the lesson is imparted and learned, but there is one last question Fitzwilliam has for his father.
“Father, I understand what you have told me, and I promise I will be more mindful of those who rely on me. I am my own man and am a Darcy which I am proud of. Just like you and Grandfather, I do not wish to have anyone decide a course of action for me. But sometimes there may not be time to think something through fully, such as an emergency where others may become injured. Is it not my responsibility to keep someone else from harm if I am able?” The unblinking stare is there as Fitzwilliam waits for the response. Drat, Gregory thinks, I should have just lashed him like I first wanted and saved myself this quandary he has put me in. If I say to only think of himself, then he will learn to think meanly of others, but if I tell him to rush in, he may put himself at unnecessary risk. Nothing but the truth will do. He is really too astute for his own good.
“There are many different scenarios one can imagine but what you must remember is simply this, think for yourself, judge the situation before you act. Many times there is a slight moment of time which allows for one to decide a course of action. Do not just be an observer of life but do not tempt fate either.” Gregory is unsure if his son understands the slight margin between the ideas, but he does not have long to wait.
