by Amy Cecil
"This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of falsehood he had imposed on you; but his success is not perhaps to be wondered at. Ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning either, detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly not in your inclination.
"You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you last night; but I was not then master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who, from our near relationship and constant intimacy, and, still more, as one of the executors of my father's will, has been unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. If your abhorrence of ME should make MY assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavor to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you.1
"FITZWILLIAM DARCY"
Oh my word! If this account is true, Mr. Darcy has most definitely overthrown my prejudices in relation to his worth. Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror consumed me. This must be false! This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood! I hastily put the letter away. I will not regard his words! I shall never look at this letter again!
After putting the letter away, I sat on the bench for a minute trying to make sense of all that I had read. I had vowed to never look at Mr. Darcy’s letter again, but not more than five minutes after putting it away I unfolded it and read it all again. I scrutinized every word, comparing everything that Mr. Wickham had conveyed to me against what Mr. Darcy had written.
The account of his connection with the Pemberley family was exactly what Mr. Wickham had related to me, as was the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy—though I had not before known its extent. Everything matched up, except when I came to the part about the will. Everything that Mr. Wickham had said about the living to which he was entitled was fresh in my head. Mr. Wickham had never told me about resigning all pretensions to the living. He had never said a word about receiving money in lieu of the living. He had conveniently left these things out of his account. Mr. Darcy had his faults and I found him most disagreeable, but I did not believe he would lie. What did he say? He despises deceit!
How differently everything in which Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy were concerned now appeared! I grew absolutely ashamed of myself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could I think without feeling I had been exceptionally blind, partial, and prejudiced. These vices and follies were the same of which I had accused Mr. Darcy just one day ago.
"How despicably I have acted!" I cried out loud. "I, who have prided myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! I, who have often disdained the generous candor of my sister and gratified my vanity in useless or blamable mistrust! Oh, how humiliating this is! If I had been in love I could not have been more wretchedly blind! But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away where either were concerned. Until this moment I never knew myself."
When I came again to that part of the letter in which my family was mentioned in terms of such mortifying reproach, my sense of shame was severe. The justice of the charges struck me too forcibly for denial. My family was ridiculous, and the circumstances to which he particularly alluded as having passed at the Netherfield ball, and as confirming all his first disapprobation, could not have made a stronger impression on his mind than on my own.
His compliment to Jane and me was not unfelt. It soothed, but it could not console me for the contempt I felt for the rest of my family. I stopped and considered Jane’s disappointment and realized that in fact it had been the result of her nearest relations, and reflected how materially the credit of both must be hurt by such impropriety of conduct. I felt saddened that I had misjudged a man so poorly, and my despair was beyond anything I had ever known before.
Oh, good Lord! What have I done? Is what he is saying here true? Although his letter made me think that perhaps I had been wrong about him in my estimations of his character where Mr. Wickham was concerned, I still could not forgive him for his interference with Jane and Mr. Bingley. He made a compelling argument against the conduct of my family, but I was not so easily swayed. He may have thought he was justified in his actions toward his friend, but I hoped that now he realized that was not the case.
However, it did not matter whether I could forgive Mr. Darcy or not. I was sure that the previous night’s encounter would be the last time I would ever see or hear from Fitzwilliam Darcy.
***
Fitzwilliam Darcy
I had hoped that a change of scenery and the prospect of some distance between Miss Elizabeth and me would help my countenance; unfortunately, I found that it did not. I fell into a deep depression upon my return to London. I had no desire to be seen in public and spent many nights alone in my chambers drinking. On the few occasions that I desired a change of scenery, I took to wandering the streets of London, my appearance unkempt enough to render me unrecognizable should I encounter someone I knew. I wandered in areas in which no gentleman would ever be seen and was appalled at what I saw. People without homes were sleeping on the streets, and brothels where women would sell themselves just to put food on the table littered the streets. Growing up as I did, I had always been far removed from the hardships of others. It was quite an eye-opening experience to see another side of London’s society.
After several months of this behavior, I realized that I had to make some changes. Perhaps Elizabeth had been right in her evaluation of my character. I had thought on it several times and had remembered many instances where I had displayed pride, selfishness, and a disdain for those beneath me. But before I made any drastic changes to my character, first and foremost, I needed to speak with Bingley and correct the error in judgment I had made regarding him and Jane Bennet.
Charles was not happy with my account of my part in his separation with Miss Bennet, but it did not take him long to reinstate our friendship. Once he got over his anger at me, he encouraged me to accompany him back to Netherfield, but I refused. Only a fortnight after our discussion, the banns were read and their marriage announced. Again Bingley pleaded with me to attend his wedding, and although my presence would have been the right thing to do, I could not bring myself to do it. I could not face Miss Elizabeth again. That wound was still very raw, and seeing her again would be like pouring salt on it. No, my next course of action was to leave London. Better yet, I was going to leave England altogether.
That evening, while wandering the streets of London, half drunk, half sober, I finally found my purpose. I needed to do something redeeming and something that would consume me enough to forget about Elizabeth Bennet. If I was to have a life without her, then I would serve this world in a better way. I would make a difference and perhaps one day show her that my character is redeemable. I would find my absolution.
My first point of contact would be my cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Richard and I were like brothers. He was the only person I could trust to assist me with my plans.
“Are you out of your mind, Darcy?” Richard said as we were finalizing all the details one afternoon. “Are you really going to proceed on this course?”
I was more certain of my intended course than I had been of anything else in a long time. I replied, “I am.”
“And you are not going to tell Georgiana?” he asked, as if to make sure of my wishes.
“No, nobody must know. You will be the only one who knows where I am and how to reach me. I will make contact to assure you of my well-being from ti
me to time, so you need not worry.”
“And what, pray tell, am I to tell your sister? What am I to tell her when you are gone?”
“I shall tell her that I am going abroad for a time. I will say my goodbyes to her and I will assure her that I will write. Richard, she is never to know exactly what I will be doing. Are we clear?”
“Yes, we are clear,” he said reluctantly, then added, “But I wish you would change your mind. This is madness!”
“It may very well be, but I have never been more energized or more hopeful regarding my future than I was the day I offered myself to Miss Elizabeth. And we both know how that turned out.” I paused briefly and then continued, “Let us hope that this endeavor results in a different outcome.”
Richard still looked very displeased with me, but I knew he would support me. I also knew that he would take my secret to his grave and that he would look after Georgiana as if she were his own sister. There was not a man on this earth that I trusted more. I said, “So, you have secured the ship?”
“I have, and I think you will be most pleased,” Richard replied.
“Will I?”
“Most definitely,” Richard says, “The ship I have secured for you was originally known as the Lutine. It was a frigate that had served in both the French and Royal Navies.”
“And how may I ask have you secured this ship for me?”
“The French had originally launched the ship in 1779 and then it passed to British control in 1793. Once ownership passed to the British, it was taken into service as the HMS Lutine.”
“That still does not explain to me how you have secured this ship for my use.” I stated.
“Well, Darcy, there is a sordid past to that ship,” he said while describing it to me. “I hope it is not an omen,” he continued teasingly.
“Dear cousin, it is not like you to believe in such foolish omens,” I chided.
“Relax, it’s nothing like that. But I think you will find it interesting,” Richard said.
“Fine, tell me then. I know you will eventually tell me anyway. You might as well get it out of your system.”
“I thought you would never ask!” Richard replied excitedly. He continued, “It was rumored that this ship sank among the West Frisian Islands during a storm in 1799 while carrying a large shipment of gold. However, that was clearly not correct, since the ship is still here. You see, the Royal Navy reported that the ship sank to collect on a rather large insurance policy.”
“Really? So the Royal Navy used the ship to replenish funds?” I asked.
“Yes. But there is one caveat to this story I find most intriguing,” Richard added.
“And that is?” I asked curiously.
“I find it rather curious that the gold that was rumored to be on the ship has never been recovered. Where do you suppose it is? Or better yet, who do you suppose took it?”
I laughed. Richard always loved a good mystery. “You may never know. Perhaps I will find it hidden on the ship in a secret compartment,” I added.
Richard shrugged as if he thought my suggestion was totally impossible. Then he said, “Well, in any event, the Royal Navy has no use for the ship and I thought it was perfect for your needs. It is large enough to carry 38 guns.” I could see him cringe at the thought, but the cannons were a very important feature if I was going to begin living my life as a pirate who steals from the rich and gives to the poor. “I have had a fresh coat of paint applied and have had her cleaned up nice and tidy for you.”
“And a crew?”
“I took the liberty of acquiring that for you as well. You have a good bunch of men, whom I screened myself, to sail with you. You are in good hands,” Richard assured me.
I knew Richard still thought that I had completely lost my mind, but I had been sickened by the gap between the poverty-stricken and the wealthy that I had observed in London. I was appalled by the poverty I had found wandering the London streets those many months and realized that I had the means to make a difference.
I really wanted to make a difference and so I took the lead of a very well-known British pirate named Sam Bellamy. Bellamy’s main goal of becoming a pirate had been to rob from the rich and give to the poor. Although Bellamy only remained a pirate for a little less than a year, he and his crew captured at least 53 ships, making him the wealthiest pirate in recorded history. I also admired Sam Bellamy for the mercy and generosity he displayed toward those he captured on his raids.
As thrilling as his history was, I was not following in his footsteps to make myself richer. I did not need the money, but like Sam Bellamy, I would become the next Prince of Pirates and my crew would be like Robin Hood’s men. I only hoped that I could live up to his example as I tried to find my absolution.
I no longer cared about propriety. I no longer cared about rules. I was going to make my own rules and live by my own code. My crew and I would rule the seas and provide for the less fortunate at the same time. My share of the crew’s plunder would go to the foundation that Richard and I had established to help the impoverished of London. We called it Adelia Baxter’s Foundation for the Less Fortunate. We only had one goal in mind when we were coming up with ideas for the name: we wanted to ensure that nobody would be able to connect the foundation to either Richard or me.
It was obvious that Richard did not condone my actions or my plan, but he nonetheless swore to the secrecy of such plan. He also agreed to serve as the trustee of said plan and distribute the monies I earned accordingly. Everything was now in order.
I just had a few loose ends to take care of: make my goodbyes to Georgiana and prepare to set sail. Within the week, Fitzwilliam Darcy would no longer exist and Captain Maximillian Sterling would be stepping aboard the Absolution, looking forward to his new and unencumbered life at sea.
Chapter 1
Not long after Mr. Darcy’s proposal, Mr. Bingley returned to Netherfield. He and Jane eventually married, remaining at Netherfield to be close to our family. I often wondered if Mr. Darcy had a hand in Mr. Bingley’s return, but I never had the opportunity to find out. He did not attend the wedding and it would not have been proper for me to inquire about his absence.
After Jane’s marriage to Mr. Bingley, things changed drastically for our family. Losing Longbourn was no longer a concern, as the family now had the means to keep the estate in the event of my father’s demise, a prospect that had always vexed my mother’s nerves and had been the driving force that pushed her to pursue rich husbands for her daughters.
Mary, my third-eldest sister, was sent to London to be trained by the masters in music and painting. Her sponsor was a Miss Caroline Bingley. I never found Miss Bingley agreeable until long after Mr. Darcy was out of the picture. She and Mary seemed to get on quite well and Mary became quite proficient under her instruction.
Much to my mother’s discontent, Kitty and Lydia, my two youngest sisters, were sent to one of the private seminaries in London to become ladies. Their willful behavior, along with my mother’s insistence on her daughters marrying rich husbands, had finally been put in check. My father, now having the means to educate his younger daughters, was not going to allow my mother to interfere in their upbringing any longer.
As for me, well, I experienced the most change. You see, Jane’s marriage to Mr. Bingley not only contributed to the family’s financial stability, it also opened up doors that came with invitations to society’s finest balls. We attended many balls in London and it always surprised me that I never encountered Mr. Darcy at any of those lavish affairs, not even the ones hosted by Mr. Bingley and Jane. I occasionally heard someone inquire about Mr. Darcy at these balls, but nobody knew what had become of him. It was as if he had just disappeared.
While visiting Jane and Mr. Bingley at their London townhouse one day, I became acquainted and subsequently fell in love with a man named Sebastian Thomas Wellesley—or, as he was more properly known, His Grace the Duke of Grafton. We courted for some time and eventually married. Bash and I ha
d a wonderful marriage until his untimely death nine years later. He had gone on a goodwill trip to India and upon his return to London he was taken suddenly ill. Doctors later diagnosed him with cholera. He subsequently died, leaving me a widow and our eight-year-old son, Thomas Arthur Wellesley, his title.
***
Eleven Years Later – 1824
“Lizzy dearest, I wish you would accompany me to see your Aunt Palmer,” my father pleaded with me. Since the passing of my mother, my father had left Longbourn, our family home, and took up residence with me and my son at Wellesley House in London. I was always his favorite and it only seemed sensible that he would come and live with me.
Father’s sister, Sara Palmer, lived in Nassau. She had been asking Father to visit her for quite some time and she believed that it was an ideal time for him to make the voyage.
“Papa, you know I would love to, but I do not think that it is an appropriate venture for young Thomas. It has not been that long since we lost Bash, and …”
“Mommy, Mommy, are we taking a trip?” Thomas asked as he came into the room.
“No, darling, we are not.” Thomas frowned at my words but did not pout. I knew he wanted to, but he knew that a well-brought-up young man did not act that way. I continued, “Your grandfather would like us to travel with him, but I do not think it is a very good idea.”
“May I ask why, Mama? Why do you not think it is a very good idea?”
I smiled at my son. I was so proud of him; he was learning to be such a gentleman. However, it also made me sad for him that he would not enjoy the simple things that I had experienced as a child, like going on walking adventures and climbing trees. Instead of getting to be a little boy, he was learning to be a duke. It broke my heart. But it was what his father wanted and it was how his father had been raised. I loved Bash dearly and would not blemish his memory by defying his wishes for our son.
