Prologue Part 1 A #2
By his parents, he was taught what was right, but he was not taught to correct his temper.
William was given good principles but left to follow them in pride and conceit.
Unfortunately, as an only son, he was spoilt by Lady Anne and Darcy—especially by the former.
Each time she lost a potential child, she poured more attention into her son and indulged him that much more.
Though good themselves and without knowing it, this allowed, encouraged, and almost taught him to be selfish and overbearing.
In addition, it taught him to care for none beyond his own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, and at least to think meanly of others’ sense and worth compared with his own.
William formed his attitudes even while his father was an excellent landlord and master; in fact, he was everything that was benevolent and amiable and treated those dependent on him very well.
He was yet too young to understand that a large part of the way his parents treated him was to protect their one and only child with all of their ability.
What William was learning from his parents was only reinforced when the family travelled for the obligatory visit to Kent to spend time with the de Bourghs.
His Aunt Catherine would go on about the importance of the distinction of rank and class.
Even though he did not like her, her arrogant pronouncements found fertile ground in his young mind.
Aunt Catherine always tried to force William to spend time with Cousin Anne, but as he had no interest in spending time with a girl who was three years his junior, William ignored those edicts issued by his aunt with his parents’ blessing.
The year William was to turn seven, Lady Catherine raised the subject of betrothing Anne to Fitzwilliam. Rather than bend to her will, Lady Anne rejected the premise out of hand.
When Lady Catherine attempted to demand acquiescence, Sir Lewis had commanded her to cease. She had receded, although with no good cheer.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
When William was eight, he had received a cob for that birthday.
At the same time, his father’s long-time steward retired.
After an extensive search, Darcy selected a Mr Lucas Wickham to replace him.
The man had been an under steward at Castlemere—an estate belonging to the Duke of Hertfordshire—and then, for more than five years after that, steward at a medium-sized estate in Staffordshire.
His characters were impeccable. When Darcy spoke to the prior employers, they had confirmed what they had written about Lucas Wickham.
Wickham had been happy where he was, but his wife, Hester, had pointed out that they needed to save for their son George’s future.
Thus, she convinced Wickham that he needed to find a position with better remuneration.
As his wife was a spendthrift, he did not think they would save anything.
However, when he reported that he had been offered the position at Pemberley and his annual remuneration had doubled to eight hundred pounds, his wife had been very pleased.
Hester Wickham quickly forgot about the need to save for their son, and she spent as much as she was able.
As soon as Hester saw how wealthy the Darcys were, every opportunity she had, she began to hint to Mr Darcy that her poor dear George had no godfather if, heaven forfend, the worst occurred to her and her husband.
At the same time, she instructed her son to make himself agreeable to Mr Darcy and ingratiate himself to Master Darcy.
Darcy found George Wickham to be very charming and did not object to him being included in games and riding with his son and nephews.
By the time William was ten and George nine, Darcy had agreed to stand as godfather for George Wickham. His Anne disagreed and stated that she did not think it was a good idea. As she was rather frail, Darcy did not argue the point, but neither did he change his mind.
When William, Andrew, and Richard would tell him how George would play pranks on others, sometimes maliciously, Darcy dismissed it as boys being boys.
When George would come and tell him of misdeeds he claimed were perpetrated by William, Darcy applied the same standard, although he did ask William about some of the things ascribed to him.
When William claimed that George was reporting the things he had done himself and blaming others, William included, Darcy had been confused.
William had been taught to always be truthful, and as far as he knew his son had never prevaricated.
However, George had an air of truth about him.
There was one thing, though. William had suggested that his father should speak to Richard and Andrew.
Darcy was aware that his son would not have offered his cousins as witnesses if it were not true.
In his hubris, Darcy had not spoken to his nephews as his pride would not allow him to be proven wrong.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Lady Anne Darcy felt the quickening in September 1795.
By then, she had experienced an additional two disappointments.
Just like she had resolved before, she waited just over a month after the quickening before she informed her Robert that more than eleven years after William’s birth she was with child again.
Darcy asked his dear Anne when she had felt the quickening, and rather than be angry she had waited so long to tell him, he understood.
Feeling guilty about not sharing that she had suffered five miscarriages since William’s birth, Lady Anne told her husband all, including that she had been advised against bearing another child at the time.
Rather than feel anger that his wife had kept this important information from him, Darcy was worried.
He had a deep-seated fear that he would lose his beloved wife.
What was worse was that there was nothing he could do to change what would happen.
It was all in God’s hands, so Darcy made sure to add words of prayer for his Anne’s health every day that his wife increased.
Lady Anne had a premonition that she would not survive delivering the child into the world.
She did not want to add to Robert’s concerns, so she summoned Mrs Reynolds one day. Lady Anne was seated in the private sitting room in the master suite. She was aware that Robert was on the estate with Mr Wickham.
“You rang for me, Mistress?” Mrs Reynolds asked after she bobbed a curtsy.
“Please close the door and take a seat,” Lady Anne requested. She waited until the housekeeper had done as she asked. “Were you aware that when I birthed William, I laboured for almost two days, and it was a very difficult birth, one I almost did not survive?”
“It was before you promoted me to under-housekeeper, but yes, there was some talk of that below stairs,” Mrs Reynolds owned.
“Based on my experience last time I delivered a babe and the five I lost in between; I must allow for the possibility that I will not live to see my son or daughter who will arrive in February or March.” Lady Anne held up her hand to stem the forming protest from her housekeeper.
“I pray it will not be so, but I must prepare for that eventuality.”
“I understand. What do you require from me, your Ladyship?”
“My plan is to write some letters. I will entrust them to you. If the worst happens, you are to give them to my husband. Will you do that for me?”
“Of course, I will, Mistress.” Mrs Reynolds had to dab at her moist eyes. “However, I pray that I will be able to hand them back to you when you are recovered and still here with us.”
“That is my prayer too,” Lady Anne agreed. “Thank you, Agnes.”
Once the housekeeper left, Lady Anne set about writing her letters. She completed two before she needed to rest as the babe she was carrying made itself known with some well-placed kicks.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
By early February, Lady Anne Darcy was large with child and spent most of her time in bed, preserving her strength for the birthing process to come.
As he did whenever he was not required to deal with estate business, Robert was sitting with her; this time he was reading her one of Shakespeare’s sonnets.
Specifically sonnet 18: ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? ’
“Robert, I love to hear you read to me, but we need to speak,” Lady Anne pleaded.
Knowing he had been putting off certain conversations because it would make his worries all too real, Darcy put the book of sonnets down on the table next to him. He could no longer defer this without upsetting his beloved Anne. “Of what do you want to speak, Dearest?”
“Neither of us wants to speak of the possibility, but Robert, you must know that there is a chance I will not survive this birth. That is true every time a woman delivers a child, but we both know why the chances are greater for me. The reason I wanted to speak to you is that we can make some decisions now, and I will need some promises from you,” Lady Anne responded.
“I am listening. Tell me what you will.”
“In case I am not able to discuss this after the birth, may we select names for both a son and daughter?”
“Of course.” Darcy maintained his equanimity while he hated the subject.
Lady Anne rested her hand on her large belly. “What say you that if this one is a daughter we name her Georgiana Bethany? That will honour our late mothers. If it is a son, then I prefer Alexander Robert.”
“I like the names, but what of Bethany Georgiana, so your late mother’s name is first?”
“Unless you object, my preference is Georgiana first.”
At the best of times, Darcy could deny his wife nothing it was his power to grant, so he accepted her preference without argument. “And the vows you require from me? I will honour almost anything you ask of me except if it is to marry again if the worst comes to pass.”