Page 54 of Missing
"Pardon me, William, pray be seated; there are many things I long to tell you," said Mr Darcy, unable to contain his excitement. His heart swelled with happiness: his son had come to visit him, and he could scarcely wait to disclose all he had planned since learning that Fitzwilliam yet lived.
"Thank you for your understanding, sir, but since childhood I have been called William, and I should feel more at ease if you addressed me by that name."
"Do not be troubled, son; do not think I cannot comprehend how difficult it must be to discover a new family that loved and mourned you in your absence.
Yet you must also understand that your situation has altered most drastically.
I know you were reared in a respectable merchant household, but you are, in truth, the son of a landed gentleman whose family has held our estate for more than two centuries.
And, through your maternal line, you are the grandson of an Earl.
William, you are the heir to half of Derbyshire and to one of the most beautiful estates in the north of England. "
Mr Darcy spoke without pause for several minutes, extolling the honour of being a Darcy, describing the fortune and legacy that would one day be his, and recounting how he had already consulted his solicitor to resolve the legalities of his mistaken identity.
"I hope all may soon be settled," he concluded, unable to restrain his tears, "so that I may announce to the world that, after so many years, I have at last found my lost son."
"Mr Darcy, I hope you will not take offence at what I must say, but I beg that you allow me time.
If I came today, it was because my mother counselled me to permit myself to know you and to learn something of my origins.
I am not insensible to the pain my disappearance occasioned your family—Fitzwilliam has spoken of it, and I can well imagine what the loss of your son meant to you and to your late wife. "
"William, my dear son, is there something more you wish to tell me?"
"Yes, sir. I wish you to understand that what parted us was a tragedy for which no one is to blame," William said, though uncertain if it were indeed true.
"Until now, I have had a life and a family that I love and of whom I am proud.
Pray grant me time to know you, to learn a little of your life, and to acquaint myself with my new family before we speak of solicitors or legal papers. "
"I understand. Forgive me if I appear impatient; I have dreamt of this day for so many years that I scarcely believe it to be true—that my beloved son lives.
I thank the Daltons with all my heart for what they did for you; they made you the good man you are.
" Mr Darcy could not help but compare William with George Wickham.
Never had there been two men more opposite.
"I value your patience, sir, and I thank you for the respect you show to Aaron and Violet Dalton; they are very dear to me.
Yet there is one matter of great importance I must mention.
I intend to speak to my solicitor, for if there exists even the slightest possibility that assuming the Darcy name should render my marriage invalid, I declare there is nothing and no one who could persuade me to cease being William Dalton. "
"I do not comprehend you."
"I cannot permit my marriage to be annulled, nor that these past three months be considered void, leaving my wife stigmatised as no more than a mistress. I must defend her honour," William said with resolute firmness.
"I see. I had not reflected upon that. But rest assured, I consider Elizabeth wholly part of your life.
She is a most charming lady, and I understand well why you are so enamoured of her.
" Inwardly, Mr Darcy acknowledged that had his son grown up with him, he would never have wed a woman of such modest connexions; yet, given the circumstances, Elizabeth was an admirable choice.
"Lastly, if possible, I should like to be present when you tell Miss Darcy of my existence. One of the things that delights me most in the thought of a new family is the possibility of having a sister."
"Of course; shall we call her now? She must be in her room."
"If you judge the time fitting, I should be most happy to speak with her," William replied, his nerves betraying him.
Mr Darcy sent the butler to summon Georgiana.
Whilst they waited, he pointed out to William the portraits adorning the walls of the library, lingering on that of Anne Darcy, his late wife.
She bore a striking resemblance to Georgiana, yet appeared so fragile in countenance, so unlike Violet, whose beauty had ever been full of life.
When Georgiana entered, she was surprised to find her father in such animated discourse with Mr Dalton. Mr Darcy asked her to sit, and after a long preamble, he recounted how her brother had survived by clinging to a tree trunk for nearly twenty-four hours.
"And what became of Fitzwilliam, if he did not die, Father?" Georgiana asked, though she already suspected the truth.
"He was very young, and the terrible accident caused such a shock that he could not remember who he was. A kind and generous family adopted him and raised him as their son," Mr Darcy said, looking at William.
"Mr Dalton—are you my brother? My dear brother?" Georgiana asked, almost in tears.
"Yes, my dear Miss Darcy. I am—and I wish to be your brother, if you will grant me the privilege," William answered with equal emotion.
Georgiana flung herself into her brother's arms, weeping for joy. She had never felt such happiness. At last, she dried her eyes and, with a smile, exclaimed, "If you are my brother, then Lizzy must be my sister too!"
William laughed softly. "Yes, I suppose you are quite right, dearest sister."
Mr Darcy lifted his eyes to the portrait of his late wife, comforted in the belief that, wherever she was, she rejoiced as much as he did to behold their two children united, embracing one another with such evident affection.
◆◆◆
Elizabeth had been at Longbourn for three days, and matters had improved since the doctor had seen her mother.
At least, the previous night, the fever had finally subsided, and Mrs Bennet had slept soundly.
Elizabeth and Jane devoted themselves to their mother's care, whilst Violet attended to the three younger sisters, who scarcely knew how to bear such a distressing situation.
Mrs Bennet felt a little better, so Mr Gardiner and the doctor returned to London that morning. Elizabeth seized the opportunity to send a long letter to her husband, recounting all that had passed and assuring him that within a week she might return to London.
Meanwhile, Violet had spoken with Mr Bennet and persuaded him that he ought to take greater concern for the education of his younger daughters. Mr Bennet, with little objection, consented to Violet's proposal of inviting Kitty and Mary to live with her.
If all unfolded as she expected, very soon her dear William would go to live with his birth father, and she did not wish to stand in the way of that relationship.
Violet was certain William would ask her to reside with him at his elegant estate, but she preferred to remain in Manchester, in the home where she had known such happiness with her beloved husband, Aaron.
She also knew William would not permit her to live alone in that house full of memories, but if he learnt that she was living with Elizabeth's sisters, he would feel less guilty at leaving her behind.
Besides, Kitty and Mary required someone who would love and value them, and Violet had grown truly fond of them.
That morning, two letters from William arrived at Longbourn, one for Violet and the other for Elizabeth.
He wrote of all that had transpired between himself and Mr Darcy, and of the joyful reunion with Georgiana.
Elizabeth was overjoyed to know that her husband was content and giving his new family time to get to know him.
As Elizabeth read her husband's lengthy letter, Jane observed her closely.
She saw, in her sister's expressive eyes, every emotion awakened by William Dalton's words.
But she also noticed that the letter comprised at least ten pages, filled on both sides in a careful hand that betrayed deep concern.
Jane reckoned that William must have written for two hours without pause.
Her sister's husband was handsome, attentive, and thoughtful in every detail, and Jane could easily perceive how happy he made Elizabeth.
By contrast, Jane had received a letter from her own husband the previous day.
It extended to a single page, written in a careless hand, dashed off without much attention.
Charles had written merely to say he missed her and wished her speedy return.
Jane imagined that, having written so little, he had gone at once to a friend's house, where he would linger into the night talking and playing cards.
When Jane compared her life with Elizabeth's, she felt she had nothing. She preferred to remain at Longbourn with her mother, for she did not wish to return to live with Louisa and Caroline, and she was sure her husband would never oppose them on her behalf.
"Lizzy, give me some water," Mrs Bennet whispered faintly to her daughter.
Elizabeth, seated at her mother's bedside, helped her to drink, whilst Jane stood by the window.
"Do not exert yourself, Mama," Elizabeth said gently, as she adjusted the pillows.
"Thank you, Lizzy. You have been so good to me, girl. I feel a little guilty… I always said you were my most rebellious daughter. And your mother-in-law—what a good and considerate lady she is—and my Lydia loves her." Mrs Bennet could not finish her sentence, for a fit of coughing interrupted her.