Prologue #2
If she persists in this manner, none within our family will stand by her when she is in need.
Indeed, Fitzwilliam, there shall come a moment in the future when your Aunt Catherine finds herself suddenly in need of assistance.
Life is like that. It comes back at you.
I know not in what way. It could be something beautiful, like love.
It could be something terrible. But it does come back at you.
I am dreading that she will be alone at that moment.
Fitzwilliam, promise me that you will stand by her.
I know it is difficult. I know you don’t hold her in high regard.
But she is family. And family is important.
Promise me that she will have a shoulder to cry on when she finds herself in need of one.
Love her for me. Try to keep in touch with her.
Try to help her with estate matters. I hold reservations about her competence as the mistress of an estate.
Your uncle at Matlock doesn't view her as a capable overseer of Rosings at all. Help her navigate this phase. Beneath the stern Lady Catherine of Rosings, the gentle Catherine of my youth still remains. I am confident in this. She is still there. I pray to God that she will soon find herself. Until that time, be there for her.”
She observed the play of emotions across her son's face. There was confusion. Fear, too. Eventually, he raises his brows in her direction. His jaw tightened. A decision has been made.
"I promise you, mother. I shall look after Aunt Catherine. I am aware she might pose challenges. But I shall not disappoint you," he replied.
She smiled upon seeing her son's demeanour. Stiff upper lip, son. Just like your father. God, how much I love you.
“I am certain you shall, Fitzwilliam. I have complete trust in you. Now, I wish to converse about you. No, to be precise, I wish to speak about two aspects crucial for your journey ahead. The first concerns pride. Son, could you share what you hold dear and are proud of?”
Evidently surprised at her abrupt query, he remained silent for a while. It took him about a minute to formulate a response.
“I am proud that I am a Darcy. I am proud of Pemberley, one of the largest estates in this country. I am proud that I have parents such as you and Father. I am proud of my scholarly achievements so far,” he paused, locking his gaze with hers.
"A typical Darcy response, my son," she bestowed a gentle smile.
"What does that mean, Mother?" His voice reflected his confusion.
“You expressed your pride in your Darcy lineage, which is admirable. One should always take pride in one's origins. But what are your contributions to the wealth and grandeur that surrounds you?”
There was no answer. She disregarded the perplexed expression on his countenance and continued.
“As for Pemberley, it is acceptable to take pride in it.
However, Pemberley's history predates you by centuries.
Even before your birth, Pemberley thrived.
For generations, it has stood as a grand estate in the northern reaches of our nation.
Neither you, nor I, nor can your father solely claim credit for its abundance.
It is the outcome of the combined efforts of many generations.
What I am trying to tell you is that you have much to be proud of.
You belong to the esteemed Darcy family.
You will be the master of Pemberley. You will possess considerable wealth and the privilege of being part of elevated society wherever you go.
Admiration, respect, even reverence shall be accorded to you.
All shall look up to you with respect. Yet, therein lies the quandary: excessive accolades may inflate your pride.
Son, pride is a double-edged sword. It can elevate you in life, yet lead to your downfall.
Excessive pride can blind you, making you scorn those beneath you.
It might make you feel superior to others, when in truth, your prosperity owes to them.
Can you envision Pemberley without our tenants and staff?
They are an integral part of our heritage.
Some families have been associated with Pemberley for generations.
For instance, the Hudsons, who lease the field by the North of the Lake, have been tenants for five or six generations.
Should they not also have the right to feel proud of Pemberley?
Their contributions to its prosperity often surpass ours.
So, remember this, as this is the most important thing you need to remember in your life.
Where there is real superiority of mind, pride will always be under good regulation.
Your mind is the key. Never see Pemberley as solely yours.
Regard yourself as a guardian of its wealth and heritage.
You're responsible for its continued prosperity, not just for yourself, but for future Darcy generations and our tenants.
Nothing in Pemberley truly belongs to you.
You're a guardian, like your father, grandfather, and every Darcy before you. Do you understand?”
He again nodded his answer. I hope I got my message across. I know not how much a thirteen-year-old can fully comprehend about pride. But what more can I do?
“Do you know why I spoke to you about pride?
It is because every Darcy descendant possesses it in abundance.
It's a burden they all carry. If not handled cautiously, it wields the potential to destroy this grand legacy - the legacy of Pemberley. Just a single generation of mismanagement could bring ruin. Son, remember this and pass it on to your offspring when the time comes. Pemberley is not your property. It is your responsibility. You are merely a guardian. Remind yourself of this every day. If it seems unclear now, it will make sense as you grow up.”
She allowed time for him to absorb her words before continuing.
“I mentioned two things; pride was the first. Now, I wish to discuss something your father may never discuss with you: love.
I already told you that Darcy men, like yourself, have a tremendous capacity for love.
Your love is for life. Once you love someone, it is with every part of your being.
It is intense, profound, selfless and unconditional.
Your love runs so deep as to render you vulnerable.
That is why I described it as both a blessing and a curse.
I fear it may prove a curse for your father in my absence, yet for you, it could turn out to be a blessing.
When the time comes for you to marry, everyone in our family, including your father, will counsel you to choose a lady with wealth and connections.
This is the way of the world we live in.
Wealth and connections hold importance, and I recognize that.
Nevertheless, my son, let me emphasise that love holds even greater significance.
Wealth and connections can bestow power, social standing, and recognition. They can make you influential. Nevertheless, they cannot bring genuine happiness. Yes, my son, it is the truth. Happiness surpasses all else, and love is the means to attain it.
So, when you marry, ensure that it is with someone whom you genuinely love, someone who reciprocates that love.
Make sure she loves you for who you are, not for your wealth and status.
I know it may be challenging, considering that both you and Georgiana will be highly sought after, making it hard to discern genuine love from mere pretence.
Yet, I have every confidence in you. Keep trusting your instincts, and one day, the right lady will come into your life. True love shall always prevail.
Speaking of marriage, your Aunt Catherine has been importuning me for a while.
She desires an engagement between you and Anne.
I hold no objections towards Anne. In fact, I'd be overjoyed if Catherine's daughter becomes your wife.
However, the decision should be entirely yours and Anne's to make.
I don't want to impose this decision on either of you.
So, there is no engagement, son. I haven't consented to anything. Aunt Catherine may exert pressure on you once I am gone, but inform her that you are not bound by any engagement into which you did not willingly enter. Is this clear to you?”
He answered with a gentle nod of assent, and she was fine with that, not wishing to hear her son's voice break anymore.
“That is all, my son. I have nothing more to say. No, wait, I do have one more thing to say. I want to convey that I love you. I have loved you from the very moment I set eyes on your tiny form all those years ago. I still vividly remember that day. You were wailing at the top of your lungs. Mrs. Reynolds struggled to soothe you but eventually yielded, placing you in my arms. The moment I held you, your cries ceased. You are a good boy, Fitzwilliam. No mother could wish for a finer son. I take immense pride in the person you have grown into and the man you will become.”
She ceased speaking, and by now, she was in tears.
I hope I've conveyed enough. Dear God, watch over my children. They are my world.
Master Fitzwilliam
When his mother motioned for him to be seated beside her, Fitzwilliam felt the weight of the moment, realizing that their time together was drawing to a close.
As she talked about his father, he grasped the gravity of her words because he, too, harboured the same concerns.
His father had become a mere shadow of the robust and authoritative man he once was, especially since Georgiana's birth.
The topic of Aunt Catherine came as a surprise, however.
Fitzwilliam typically avoided her company.
She was formidable, commanding, and overbearing.
He found it hard to believe when his mother began discussing a gentler side of Aunt Catherine.
And he had to think twice when his mother urged him to take care of Aunt Catherine when needed.
Supporting Aunt Catherine? I cannot envision such a need ever occurring. But I must trust my mother in this. If Aunt Catherine needs my help, I will be there for her.
Then, his mother began to discuss pride and love and it was genuinely enlightening.
He had long been cognizant that a time would come when he would assume ownership of Pemberley, thus attaining considerable affluence and influence.
All would show him respect. Even now, though just thirteen, the tenants and staff addressed him with a different manner compared to how they addressed someone like George Wickham. He recognized it as a mark of respect.
The notion of not considering himself as the owner, but as a guardian of Pemberley, required a significant shift in perspective.
It was challenging to grasp at first, but he held those words close to his heart.
With each passing day spent alongside his father as he learned to manage the grand estate of Pemberley, the true meaning of those words gradually began to sink in.
As he delved deeper into the responsibilities entrusted to him, he started to truly comprehend the profoundness of the entire concept.
The realisation that he had been chosen to protect a vast legacy, one that had endured for centuries, was both humbling and inspiring at the same time.
His mother passed away in her sleep on the very night of their conversation.
He tried to stay strong right up until the end of her funeral.
But the sight of his mother's coffin being lowered to the ground finally broke his restraint.
He cried out his sorrows like the thirteen-year-old boy that he was.
With each passing year, the wisdom imparted by his mother on that fateful evening revealed new depths.
Yet, amidst all he has learned, one part of her advice, the final part about love, remained a mystery to him.
It was a riddle left unsolved. It was not until a crisp October evening, fifteen years down the line, when the moon cast its enchanting glow upon a country assembly, far removed from the grandeur of Pemberley, that the initial clues to this puzzle finally began to reveal themselves to him.