Prologue Part 1 B
After his mother’s death, William Darcy became more taciturn and standoffish to those he did not know and were not of his family circle. One change which pleased William was that Father—he was too old now to call him ‘papa’—no longer insisted he have George Wickham as his friend.
William did not want to know his baby sister because in his mind she was responsible for his beloved mother’s death. No matter how many times one of the nursemaids asked him to come see his sister, William stubbornly refused.
That all changed one day when William was summoned to his father’s study. “Yes, Father. You had Mr Reynolds tell me to come see you?” William stood at attention like he had seen an officer do one time he had attended a review with Richard and his family.
“I did. William, come sit next to me.” Darcy stood and walked around his desk.
He took a seat on the settee on the wall between the floor-to-ceiling windows, which looked out over the grassy area in front of the house to the lake and forest beyond.
Darcy patted the surface of the settee next to him.
He waited until William sat, his black armband easily visible.
Seeing the one on his son caused Darcy to touch the one on his left arm, closest to his heart, as the pain of losing his Anne coursed through his body.
“William, why have you not seen your sister yet?”
Rather than answer, William looked away. He had no choice but to look at his father when he felt his head turning thanks to gentle pressure by his father’s hand on his chin.
“William, a gentleman does not ignore that which is too hard for him to speak of, and more importantly, he is always honest. You can tell me what your reason is without fear of rebuke or punishment,” Darcy assured his son.
“Just because some conversations are hard does not mean we do not need to have them.”
“How can I be in my sister’s company when she caused my mamma… mother to die?”
“Georgiana is not responsible for what happened to your mother.” Darcy paused to allow time for his words to be assimilated by his son.
“I felt the same way, all the while knowing I was wrong, but I needed someone to blame.
As I could not blame the one who truly decides these things, God, I blamed an innocent babe instead.
That was until I read a letter your mother wrote to me.
“My darling wife, your mother, knew there was a good chance she would not survive the delivery. William, do you know what a miscarriage is?”
First, William cogitated, and then he shook his head.
“It is when a lady is with child and for whatever reason loses it before the babe is born. Your mother had several before we were blessed by your birth. Until just before she delivered Georgiana, I was unaware that between your birth and your sister’s birth, she had several more.
Each one made her weaker, but she hid that from us.
William, we never told you this, but your mother needed a long time to recover after you were born.
Another thing, I just discovered, was that the doctor told my Anne that she should not be in the family way again.
Your mother kept it from me because she wanted another child more than anything.
“Because she had a premonition that her body was not strong enough to survive another delivery, she wrote letters. One to me, which I read already, and some to you and your sister.”
“May I read mine now?” William requested.
“Your mother meant for them to be given to you and your sister when you are older. Your first one will be when you reach your majority. Just know for now that your mother loved you, just as she would have loved Georgiana. More than anything, she did not want us to blame your sister for something in which she had no part.”
For a few minutes, William considered everything his father had told him.
He thought about how he felt when he was blamed for something George did and remembered how much he hated that.
How could he then hold his innocent sister responsible for something she did not do?
He could not! William knew when Father released him, his first stop would be at the nursery to meet Georgiana, and from this moment forward, he would love and protect his little sister.
He sat up straight. “Father, may I be excused to go meet my sister?”
“Go, William,” Darcy allowed. He waited until his son exited the study. ‘I miss you every minute of every day, my darling Anne. I hope you can see that I am honouring all my promises to you. Little Gigi, that is what I call our daughter, is doing very well. I love you, Anne.’
When William reached the nursery, he was lucky that his sister was awake.
He sat in an armchair next to her cradle and waited until one of the nursemaids placed the gurgling bundle into his arms after instructing him how to support her head.
He would always swear that his sister looked into his eyes, and he was lost. From that instant, he would do anything she wanted and make sure she had everything she needed.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
July 1800
One day after William turned seventeen, his final year at Eton ended on the eleventh day of July. Examinations were completed, and he was off to Cambridge in October of the same year. Contrary to Eton’s academic year, the university’s year was less time by at least two months.
He had begun his schooling at Eton in September 1797, one year behind his best friend, cousin, and brother of his heart, Richard Fitzwilliam. While he completed his final year at Eton, Richard had been at Cambridge for his first.
William could not forget how Gigi had cried when he had to depart.
She was not yet one and one-half years old, but since he had resolved to be the best big brother she could want, he had lived up to his pledge and been with his sister as much as possible.
In that first academic year, George Wickham had taken to entertaining his sister.
William could not like it; however, he knew she was never alone with him but always in the company of at least one nursemaid.
The reports were that he was kind to her.
Perhaps the reprobate had a soft spot for little children.
As long as George did his sister no harm, William would not step in to keep George away from Gigi.
When he was home on term break or at the end of the academic year, William made sure to give his sister as much attention as possible. He was thankful that George kept away when he was home.
That first year had been enjoyable, especially without George Wickham anywhere to be seen, except occasionally when William was home at Pemberley.
As the boys aged, George’s vicious propensities had become easier to see for boys of an age with him.
Around Father, butter would not melt in George’s mouth.
It was during that first end of the academic year break that Father had told William he was sending George to school.
He was going to pay for him to receive a gentleman’s education.
None of William’s protests, or those of Uncle Reggie and his cousins, moved his father.
When asked why he would do so for the son of a steward, his father explained that Mr Wickham had saved his life.
His horse had bolted after almost stepping on an adder.
The adder had tried to bite the horse, which had caused the horse to run.
At the time, his father’s hands had been off the reins as he had been discussing something with his steward.
Mr Wickham had ridden next to the bolting, fearful horse and grabbed the reins.
The stallion had slowed and stopped just in time as Father was about to fall off at a full gallop over a rocky field.
Remembering his promise to his late wife, Darcy told William that if there was friction between the boys, after the first year he would move George to Harrow and enrol him in Oxford.
During the first term break of George’s first year at Eton, both William and Richard reported that George was a distraction.
Thinking that his father would not believe him, William did not tell his sire how George was going out of his way to make life unpleasant for him and trying to turn everyone against him.
It was only a threat of physical harm from Richard which had caused the miscreant to cease.
William could best George if the latter fought fair, something he would not do.
However, George was petrified of Richard.
The two were of a similar height, but the latter was much stronger than the former.
It had taken one time for Richard to teach George a physical lesson.
The latter had been caught placing a burr under the blanket between William’s saddle and the horse’s back.
Richard had thrashed him and dared him to run to his Uncle Robert, as then he would have to explain why he was trying to sabotage William in a way which could have led to serious injury for himself and the horse.
Since then, George had kept his distance.
From that point on, he did not attempt any physical harm, only with his silver tongue. It had been to the point at Eton that Richard had stepped in once again.
Father did not require details; he had made a promise, and he would keep to it.
As the problems had occurred so soon after his start at Eton, George had been moved to Harrow at the start of the next term.
To Father’s face, it was all smiles and thanks, but William did not miss the scowls at George being moved and not him.