Page 1 of Mr Darcy’s Worth: Three Pride and Prejudice Variations

Mr. Darcy’s Quiet Strength

“There is nothing that makes me happier than talking to you, Mother.”

“It saddens me to hear that, my darling. Even though I treasure every moment I spend with you, I would like to see many other things make you happy, Fitzwilliam. You are so young, yet there is rarely a smile on your handsome face. I sometimes wonder whether there is something troubling you.”

“I shall smile more when I see you regaining your strength, Mother. When I see you healthy, nothing will trouble me.”

The woman took the boy’s hand and caressed it, then kissed it.

“My dearest, you are a young man now. We both know I shall not recover. My only hope is to have a little more time to see Georgiana grow up. She is only three years old.”

“I pray you will see her grow up, Mother,” the boy said, his voice heavy with tears. “Papa said he will engage more doctors, and the medicine from India should arrive soon. We will find a way!”

“I shall do whatever the doctors advise me if it will give me a little more time with you, Fitzwilliam. But if things worsen, I wish you not to suffer too much for me, my son. I have been happier than most people are in much longer lives. Having you as my son has been the greatest blessing one can hope for.”

The young man lowered his head to conceal his tears, his hand still clasped in his mother’s.

“Fitzwilliam, there is something of great importance I wish to ask you. I know it might be unfair, that it might be selfish of me, and that it might burden you even more…”

“You may ask me anything, Mother!”

“You have a sharp mind, a strong character, and a kind heart, Fitzwilliam. Your strength — though mostly quiet — is deeper and more significant than that of many gentlemen I know. I am begging you to use that strength to help your father and to support your sister when I am gone. There is no better man than your father, nor more loving husband…or better landlord.”

“That is true, Mother.”

“But he has changed in recent years, since my illness. His goodness and loyalty to me make him feel lost, and his strengths are slowly diminishing. It pains me to see him like this, as he is still a young man. He should live happily even when I am gone.”

“None of us will live happily if you are gone, Mother.”

“Oh, do not say that, silly boy! In fact, you must promise me you will make yourself a very happy life! You must find a woman worthy of you. A woman I could love because she loves you. A woman you admire and who makes your heart race. You have everything you need, Fitzwilliam, and there are so few things you lack. So find a woman who will complete what is missing in your life.”

“Finding a woman is the last thing in the world that concerns me now, Mother. But I promise I shall not forget your words. I still pray you will have the chance to grant her your approval when the time comes.”

“Then — do you promise that you will take care of your father and sister?”

“I promise! But Papa insists that I go to Cambridge, although I should better stay home and help him with his duties.”

“Your father is right, as always. You should complete your education before you take all those responsibilities on your shoulders. The burden will not be easy.”

“Nothing related to our family would be a burden, Mother. I am proud and grateful to follow in my father’s footsteps.”

“I know you are, my son. And speaking of pride,” she added, smiling at him, “there are already some people who call you proud, and there will be many in the future if your manners remain the same.”

“Do you disapprove of my manners, Mother?”

“Oh no, not at all! I would not change a single thing about you! I just wish you to be aware that your serious and reserved manners make you different from other young men your age, especially those like your cousin Geoffrey or George Wickham, whose nature is open and engaging. Some people might call you proud, even arrogant and haughty.”

“I cannot be concerned with the opinion of people who do not know me. But Father seems to enjoy George’s company, so I assume he favours his manners over mine.”

“Oh no, your father favours nobody over you. He does enjoy the boy’s company because George amuses him. He is such a joyful, friendly boy and most grateful to your father.”

The young man did not reply, and his mother continued.

“I know there are things you disapprove of in George Wickham, but please do not be so hard on him. He is younger than you and certainly less wise. He cannot compare to you in any way, so please do not judge him so harshly.”

“I try not to. But I am not blind to the fact that he always takes the easy way with his studies, with the work his father assigns him, with any request anyone gives him. He should be properly disciplined, but I know it is not my duty to do that.”

“It will be your duty — one day. Let us hope by then his character will have improved.”

“Yes, Mother. Let us not worry about George Wickham. He has a comfortable life that lacks nothing.”

“You are right, my handsome boy. One last thing. Will you promise me that you will be happy?”

“I promise I shall follow your advice, Mother.”

“Good,” the woman said, caressing his face again. “Do not mind Catherine’s insistence about your engagement to Anne. I mean — I would be so very happy and grateful if she did turn out to be the woman to make you happy. But that must be your choice alone.”

“Yes, Mother…”

“Now, please be so kind as to ask your father to come back in. He must be worried about our long conversation. But I am glad I had you to myself, even for a little while.”

The boy kissed his mother’s hand, and she kissed his in return.

Soon, the room was filled with people — from the master, George Darcy, to Georgiana and her governess. Fitzwilliam Darcy moved into a corner, watching his mother surrounded by those who loved her and struggling with his tears.

The following year, when he was seventeen years old and his sister four, Lady Anne Darcy died peacefully, her body weakened by an illness that had no cure.

***

London, December 1811

“Fitzwilliam, will you not play with me?” Georgiana Darcy asked her brother, who sat absently in the music room, watching her practise.

“Play? Oh no, dearest. Forgive me, but I am in no disposition to play.”

“Do not apologise. I am just worried that you have not seemed to be in a disposition for anything lately. It pains me to see you so sad. I cannot forgive myself for hurting you.”

“What are you talking about, my dear? You never hurt me!”

“Of course I did. I know my attempted elopement hurt and disappointed you. I am nothing but a silly simpleton who does not deserve your forgiveness. But it is not fair that you suffer because of my reckless behaviour.”

He took a chair and moved it near the pianoforte, sitting close to her; she wiped her tears.

“My dear, I might call you a silly simpleton if you do not cease blaming yourself. You did not elope — you proved your strength and determination and confessed the truth to me, as only a few women would.”

“Because it was a fortunate coincidence that you arrived that day. What would I have done if you had not been there? If the decision had entirely been mine?”

“Why worry about what could have been? You were surrounded by evil people whom you trusted and held in regard — your companion and a friend you had known all your life. My only concern is that those two villains hurt and betrayed you. Nothing else.”

She remained silent, and he continued, “Will you please promise not to trouble yourself with this further?”

“I shall try. But you cannot deny you have not been yourself lately.”

“I shall not deny it, but it is certainly not your fault — not by far. Come, let us play together. A little bit of music might be beneficial to me after all.”

“Brother, may I ask — is there a reason why Mr. Bingley does not visit us as often as he used to? Even Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst have called on me only once since they returned from the country.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Oh no!” she answered hastily, causing him to smile. “I mean, they are always kind to me. And you said you are fond of Mr. Bingley’s friendship.”

“I am. He might not be so fond of me these days, due to some differences of opinion related to the time we spent in Hertfordshire. And just to be clear, I admit that is also the reason for my poor disposition since I returned — nothing else.”

“Oh…I see. Forgive me if I have intruded — I shall not insist further. May I ask — we are attending Aunt Matlock’s New Year’s dinner, are we not? She has asked me many times.”

“Yes. Geoffrey made me promise we would. I am in no disposition for parties, but I cannot condemn you and Mrs. Annesley to bear only my dull company all the time.”

“Have you decided when you will visit Lady Catherine? Please do not make me come with you! I miss Anne, and I write to her often, but—”

“Do not worry, my dear. Geoffrey and I shall visit Rosings alone. I am not sure when — probably no earlier than March.”

“Oh, good. We have plenty of time to discuss it.”

“Yes, we do,” he agreed, then moved to sit beside his sister on the stool, and the two began to play together.

***

Gracechurch Street, London , December 1811

“My dears, I am so happy to have you here!” Mrs. Gardiner said, embracing her eldest nieces.

“I am sorry we could not come to Longbourn for Christmas as usual, but both Hannah and Elinor have such bad colds that the doctor insisted we should not travel in the winter. Their fevers have only just broken, and we did not want to take any risks.”

“We are happy to be here too,” Elizabeth replied. “I was rather surprised that Mama agreed to allow us to leave Longbourn at this time of year. I suspect she is still angry with me for refusing to marry Mr. Collins. If that is the case, she might send me away from home more often.”

“I am glad you can joke about this, Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner replied, smiling.

“It is not difficult to joke about Mr. Collins. I am still shocked that Charlotte agreed to marry him after he proposed to her only a day after I refused him. I am truly disappointed in her decision.”

“You should not judge her, my dear,” Mrs. Gardiner said.

“I am sure she pondered the situation carefully and chose what was best for her. Mr. Collins — despite his faults — is not a man to disregard, from what I have heard. He is a clergyman with a good living and will one day inherit Longbourn. I doubt Charlotte has many prospects to choose from.”

“I cannot disagree with you, Aunt. But I cannot help being disappointed either. To me, marriage means something entirely different.”

“Yes, I know — you only wish to marry for the deepest love,” Mrs. Gardiner answered, still smiling. “Perhaps Charlotte is not romantic and only hopes for a comfortable life — which she might find with Mr. Collins.”

“Even if you find the deepest love, there is no guarantee you will marry or be happy,” Jane interjected. “Some sentiments can only lead to pain, so Charlotte’s decision might be the wisest, for there is no suffering attached to it.”

Elizabeth and her aunt looked at Jane, who averted her eyes. “Forgive me — would you mind if I go to my room? I would like to rest a little,” Jane said, then left them.

“It breaks my heart to see Jane like this,” Elizabeth said. “I have tried to comfort her, but with no success. I fear Mr. Bingley’s betrayal hurt her too deeply.”

“But, may I ask in what way he betrayed her?”

“In what way? By letting her — and all of us — believe that he admired her and showing an affection he apparently did not truly feel. By promising that he would only stay in London for a few days but then never returning. And his sister wrote to Jane to say her brother was busy with Mr. Darcy and his perfectly accomplished sister. I do not blame Miss Darcy, of course, I only blame her proud and arrogant brother for convincing Mr. Bingley not to return to Hertfordshire — and Mr. Bingley for being so weak and tractable.”

“You sound very harsh, Lizzy. Let us discuss the situation later, over a cup of tea, while Jane is resting. That is — if you are not tired too.”

“Oh, not at all. I always love talking to you, Aunt.”

“Good. And perhaps you may tell me more about Mr. Wickham, the charming gentleman you seem to favour and who grew up at Pemberley — one of my favourite places in the world.”

“Mr. Wickham is charming indeed — you would like him very much, I am sure. He suffered some misfortune from the other man who grew up at your favourite place — the same man who hurt Jane,” Elizabeth answered, half in anger, half in jest.

“Ah, yes — we shall certainly talk about Mr. Darcy. I had the highest opinion of his parents, and I am so sad to hear such unfavourable reports about him.”

“The more you know about him, the sadder you will be, Aunt. I suppose he is probably well-educated and might carry out his duties well enough for some people to appreciate him, but in truth, I have rarely met a more unpleasant sort of man.”