Mr Darcy’s Long Game (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

Prologue

At the age of two and twenty, Fitzwilliam Darcy was considered a paragon of virtue by many, but, when pressed, his closest friends and relations admitted that he did have at least a few flaws and foibles. Pressed further, most opined that his greatest flaw was his impatience.

One of the virtues often mentioned was the fact that Darcy was honest to the point of occasional rudeness because he so strongly avoided dissembling.

Other virtues included that he never gambled high nor drank to excess; he ate healthy portions but never overindulged; he balanced physical and mental exertions; and although he was known for his reticence, those who knew him well described him as responsible, generous, and caring.

Of course, most people did not use the word paragon, for Darcy or, honestly, for anyone at all.

A word that was used by some to describe Darcy was prig.

That was not the nicest word in the world, but it summed up another reason why the man might accurately be considered a paragon: He was the epitome of gentlemanly behaviour towards ladies.

He kept no mistresses, frequented no brothels, visited no widows; he never even flirted with ladies.

If ladies’ hearts broke over Mr Darcy, it was their own doing; he neither called on nor courted any lady.

As to Darcy’s impatience…. When Darcy was young, his mother never told him of upcoming outings, visits, or celebrations until just a few hours before. She knew his impatience for a happy time to begin was difficult for him—actually, to be honest, his impatience made it difficult for everyone.

When Darcy was older, his father used to shake his head as he counselled his son that it usually took time for positive changes to occur.

A sapling did not afford shade for years; a broken bone took months to fully heal; it took multiple days to reach London.

“All things come to those who wait,” he would say.

Years later, one of Darcy’s college instructors asserted that Darcy’s intelligence actually put him at a disadvantage in the classroom—because of his impatience.

He grasped concepts and learnt skills quickly, but then he chafed and fumed until the other students mastered the rudiments and the instructor could finally move on to fresh matter and more advanced lessons.

In chess, as well, Darcy went years being undefeated, but he stopped playing because he grew frustrated with those who played so slowly that a single game could last eight to ten hours.

Because of his decision not to expend such long hours in such a pursuit, he retired from competitive chess without ever having been beaten, but his number-of-wins record at Cambridge was soon eclipsed by a student whom Darcy had consistently beat—but who was much more patient.

Unfortunately, both of Darcy’s parents passed when he was far too young: his mother died when he was twelve, and his father died just a few days after Darcy turned one and twenty.

He was an extremely young man to be the master of a very great estate, several smaller estates, a house in Town, and many investments.

Especially daunting, at such a young age, was that he suddenly had the care of hundreds of servants and tenants, and of his sister, who was more than a decade younger than himself.

There would be no more wise counsel from his parents about the virtue of patience, and as Darcy shouldered almost crushing responsibilities a decade or two before he had assumed he would have to, he turned his impatience towards himself.

He should be able to figure out a compromise that both quarrelling tenants would accept—immediately.

He must figure out what was going wrong with the turnip crop right away—its loss could be devastating for the livestock.

He ought to be able to comfort his sister, Georgiana, even as he guided her to more proper behaviour.

However, something occurred, just as Darcy and Georgiana began their emergence from mourning…something that taught him that he could be patient.

He could be very patient, indeed.