Page 2 of Missing

Violet was the younger sister of Isaac Watson, and upon marrying Aaron Dalton, she moved to Manchester, where her husband owned a fabric shop.

The Daltons were a devoted couple who loved one another deeply.

In almost ten years of marriage, they had never been blessed with children, and so they accepted that their family would consist only of the two of them.

Since they had a niece and a nephew, they turned all their affection toward them.

Violet knew that this would be her niece's last birthday celebrated in Lambton, for before the end of summer, the Watsons would leave Derbyshire for good. That was why she and her husband, who loved beautiful and intelligent Maddie dearly, wished to be with her and to shower her with presents.

Unfortunately, their return to Manchester was arduous because a great storm brought many days of torrential rain.

They were forced to seek refuge at an inn along the way and to spend several days there.

Many roads were impassable, and the Daltons' carriage suffered damage to one of its wheels.

Thus, they were obliged to extend their stay in that small town, half a day's journey from Manchester.

While Mr. Dalton conversed with the blacksmith repairing the wheel's axle, Mrs. Dalton went for a walk to take some fresh air after two days confined in a room.

The inn was small, and there was little to do.

After walking for nearly ten minutes, she came to a lovely spot where she could see the fields and a river.

She observed, however, that the swollen waters carried much debris.

As she was about to return to the inn, she heard the crying of a child and became alarmed. Approaching the riverbank, she saw a little boy in ragged clothing clinging desperately to a tree branch.

"My God, poor boy, what has happened to you?" Violet asked anxiously. But the boy did not reply; he only looked at her with tear-filled eyes, terrified and on the verge of collapse.

"Do not fear, my sweet boy. I only wish to help you," Violet said gently, stroking his cheek.

When she had at last gained the child's trust, she removed his tattered garments and wrapped him in her shawl. She noticed he wore a chain with the letter F, which she kept, believing it might provide a clue to his identity. Judging from his clothes, she supposed him to be the son of peasants.

The boy was barefoot, so Violet carried him much of the way, and it took her more than an hour to reach the inn.

There she explained all to her husband, and together they attempted to contact the town magistrate to discover who the child was.

They bought him clothing and fed him, hoping to hear from his parents.

Yet no one seemed to know him or where he belonged.

Moreover, the little boy did not utter a single word in the three days he spent with the Daltons, which made it still more difficult to trace his family.

After Edith had pushed little Fitzwilliam into the water, he had managed to cling to a tree branch and was swept nearly fifteen miles downstream, until he was cast upon the bank of a tributary. He spent the entire night there, and thanks to the warm weather, he survived until Violet found him.

"The carriage is ready, Violet. We are leaving first thing in the morning," Aaron told his wife as she tucked the boy into the couch where she had made a temporary bed.

"Aaron, I—" Violet began.

"My dear, I know what you are thinking, but—"

"Aaron, we cannot abandon this poor child here. Do you not see that if his family does not seek him—or if they perished in the river—he is doomed to be just another orphan? I cannot bear to imagine what might become of him…." Violet said, unable to hold back her tears.

Like his wife, Aaron had grown fond of the boy, and it pained him that the child seemed mute. Embracing her, he said, "Very well, dear, tell me what you wish to do."

"I want to take him with us. We shall leave our address with the innkeeper; if anyone inquires, they will know how to find us. We shall also contact the magistrate and your solicitor when we return to Manchester and request their assistance in locating his family."

"And what if he has no family?" Aaron asked, already suspecting her answer.

"Then we shall be his family," Violet replied, hugging her husband as her tears fell.

The next day, the little river boy departed with the Daltons for Manchester.

As they had planned, they spoke to the magistrate, but he gave the matter little attention, assuming the child to be another waif abandoned by his parents, as so many were in the streets of Manchester. He had more pressing concerns.

Their solicitor, however, placed a notice in the local newspaper stating that a family had found a child, without disclosing how or where. As expected, no one ever responded.

While waiting, the Daltons called the boy "River," but each day they grew fonder of him. They had him examined by their physician, who concluded that the child was in emotional shock, which explained his silence.

The doctor was correct, for little Fitzwilliam Darcy had spent a night alone in the woods, crying, until he shut out all memory of his previous life. Each day, he grew more attached to the Daltons, who treated him with affection and care.

"My dear, it has been almost four months since River came to us, and we have heard nothing of his family."

"I know that should sadden me, my dear husband. But I cannot help feeling happy, knowing that no one will take him from me."

At that moment, the boy entered the room and took Violet's hand. "I am itlliam. Are you my mama?"

Violet looked at her husband, then kissed the child's forehead. "Is your name William?"

The boy thought for a moment and answered, "Yes."

"I am Aaron Dalton, and this is my wife, Violet, my dear William."

"If you wish, I shall be your mama, and my husband your papa," Violet said joyfully.

"Yes, I want you to be my mama and papa," replied little William, allowing his new parents to embrace him.

After nearly a year, the Daltons formally adopted little William, and not a day passed that they regretted their decision, for he was the best of sons.

◆◆◆

More than twenty years later…

Aaron Dalton knew that he had only a few hours left to live, and he longed to say farewell to the two people he loved most: his beloved wife, Violet, and his son William. He had spent the last twenty-two years of his life with them in a home filled with love and joy.

"My dear, do not weep. You and I have long known that this moment would come sooner or later."

"Aaron, dearest, do not strain yourself. Rest," Violet said, struggling to hold back her tears.

"The boy—has he arrived yet?" Aaron asked.

"Yes, my love. He is speaking with the doctor."

"Tell him to come. I need to speak with him. Will you give us some time alone, dear?"

"Of course," Violet answered. She kissed her husband's cheek and went in search of her son.

As soon as William saw his mother's face, he knew his father's time was short. "Mama, how is he?"

"He wishes to speak with you, William. Go to him," Violet said, stroking her son's cheek.

William immediately entered the room, and when he saw his father so frail, nearly consumed by illness, he could not help but kneel beside him and weep.

"Son, you must be strong. You must care for your mother."

"Father, please, do not speak so. You will recover and remain with us—"

"William, my dear son… You came into my life when I was forty, and I thought I would never know what it was to be a father… and…" Aaron could not continue, overcome by a fit of coughing.

"Father, please, you must rest," William said, kissing his father's hand.

"Very soon, I shall rest, son. Allow me to say what I must. First, William, I thank you for making your mother and me the proudest parents in England.

Whenever you received an award at school or graduated with honors from Oxford, we rejoiced that you allowed us to be your parents.

My son, I wish you to fulfill all our dreams and establish a business in London, just as we planned.

Everything that was mine is now yours and your mother's.

I know you will achieve what I never could, because you are the best man I have ever known… I love you, son of my heart."

"No, Father, please do not leave us," William cried desperately.

The doctor asked him to leave, and fifteen minutes later, he brought the news that Aaron Dalton had died. Mother and son wept in each other's arms for nearly an hour, silent in their grief, until William understood he must take charge of arranging the funeral.

"Mother, I must leave you for a few hours to see to Father. But before I go, I want you to know that I love you, and now that he is gone, I shall care for you."

"I know, my sweet boy. Do not worry; do what you must."

Violet had already informed the family of her husband's condition, and Peter, Madeline, and her husband had hurried north.

They arrived the day after Aaron's death, but at least they were able to comfort the family.

Aaron had no close relatives, for his only sister had died years before, unmarried and childless.

Thus, it was the Watsons, the Gardiners, and family friends who attended his funeral.

After the funeral, William shut himself in what had been his father's study.

The death of the man he so greatly admired had revived memories of the river where his mother had found him as a child.

He could not tell whether they were real memories or merely a child's fantasies.

"I must forget all this, for now I have too many important things to accomplish. "

Violet asked her niece's husband to speak with William. He had remained in the study for many days, scarcely eating. Edward Gardiner was a man of generous spirit and intelligence, and Violet knew her son admired him greatly.

"William, may I have a word?"

"Of course, uncle Gardiner. In fact, I wished to speak with you, for I shall need your help."

"Certainly. Tell me how I may be of service.

" Edward Gardiner also held William in high regard.

He knew the Daltons had adopted him and that he had been an exemplary son.

Though many, owing to his reserved nature, thought him cold or unfeeling, those who knew him understood how deeply he loved and respected his parents.

"I wish to fulfill my father's dream, and therefore I must move to London. But I know little of the business world there, and I hope I may rely upon your guidance."

"Are you certain? The Dalton business is prosperous in Manchester—"

"And it shall be in London. Dalton Import and Export will become the most successful company in the city, even if I must work day and night for the rest of my life," William replied with determination.

"If you are resolved, then you may count on my help," said Mr. Gardiner, leaving him, for William clearly wished no further conversation.

That night, William remained in the study, weeping for the loss of his father and struggling to banish the troubling visions that haunted him in dreams—faces and places he had never known.

He did not understand why they appeared to him, nor what they meant.

He was afraid and longed only to forget and to honor the promise he had made.

'I am a Dalton, and I always shall be.'