Chapter 1 #2
He waited to see if George would speak, even to protest, before continuing.
“I have seen the reports. I have listened as Fitzwilliam has tried to explain to his father what my employer’s patronage has done to you.
While George Darcy may not have paid heed to his son’s reports, I have.
Poor grades I might be able to countenance if you were truly trying, but the reports of gambling, debauchery, destruction of public property, and more have me seriously concerned.
When one is given good principles, as you have, one must take care never to follow them in pride and conceit. ”
His father paused to take a sip of water before continuing. “Fitzwilliam has paid those debts for you, you know,” he said.
George had not known. It did not surprise him that Darcy had stepped up. With his connection to the estate, such unpaid debts would reflect badly on the Darcys themselves. He would have to find out the total of these debts and pay him back.
His father was not done, however. “George, you have been gifted with a quick intellect and a silver tongue. Your charisma and ability to win friends can be a valuable tool in your life. You may choose to use it for good or you may choose to employ it to destroy those around you. I do not believe you are so far gone that you cannot change. Now, I have something to tell you that I probably should not, but I am hoping it will aid you in finding your way back to the morals you were raised on. George Darcy is leaving you a valuable family living in his will, on the condition that you take orders. Kympton, in fact. The parsonage there is very fine, and the living is better even than Lady Catherine’s in Kent.
And yet, you are two years into your university years, and you have made very little progress towards any profession, let alone the church. ”
George scoffed. “The church, Father? I am not made for giving sermons!”
His father smiled. “How do you know? Have you given many? I urge you to try it out before throwing away such a valuable gift.”
“Why can Mr. Darcy not leave me a cash amount? Or perhaps a small estate?”
His father laughed again. “George, you cannot be serious!” he said. “You are not a Darcy!”
“I was raised as one!” George replied angrily. “I have been given every privilege that Fitzwilliam has, Father, and yet I have nothing!”
His father was quiet now, watching him with some pity. “I am sorry you feel that way, my boy,” he said. “Can you not see how much more than nothing you have? You say you have been given every privilege. These things are just that - privileges.”
Pausing to cough painfully, he continued.
“You are not entitled to the largesse the Darcys have shown you. They were bestowed as a gift, freely given for the sake of my friendship with George Darcy. You should be pleased that the obligations attached to Fitzwilliam do not also accompany the kindness bestowed on you.”
Here George was puzzled. “Whatever do you mean?” he said.
His father met his eyes. “Fitzwilliam is tied to his estate,” he said.
“All the responsibilities and obligations that accompany that are his burdens to bear. When his father dies, he will be lord and master over hundreds, with very little time for leisure. A worthy master of an estate does not live in London, partaking of delights and leaving all to his steward, for an unsupervised land manager can fleece an estate in a few short years. When you are born to privilege, with that comes specific obligations. Fitzwilliam’s marriage may even end up being arranged in favor of wealth and connections over love. ”
George’s eyebrows rose at this, and his father nodded in confirmation.
“It is an expectation that has been drummed into him his entire life.
The young Mr. Darcy will be hounded across London during the Season.
He will have to maintain vigilance in order to not be entrapped by a simpering miss or a matchmaking mother.
News of his income and standing will swirl around him at every event and he will constantly be wondering if people see him or see his estate.
Fitzwilliam is already too serious and such attentions will likely drive him even further into himself.
“But we were speaking of you. You have none of these encumbrances. You might choose what to do with your life, and who to marry. You can choose to enter the church, or you might pursue another career. I have always thought you would do well in the law, you know.”
George thought again of Northmore’s words that he had befriended Wickham in part because of his connection to the Darcy family.
How much worse must it be for his friend Darcy.
George vowed silently to himself at that moment that he would be the best friend to Fitzwilliam, even if Fitz no longer desired it.
His father had closed his eyes and was lying against the pillows.
George reached out and grasped his hand.
It seemed papery thin and clammy, with none of the firm strength he had always expected to feel from his father.
“I will think on these things, I promise you, Father,” he said. “Indeed, I have already begun.”
While his father rested with his eyes closed, George told him of that fateful conversation and the turmoil it had ignited in him.
When he was done, his father spoke again.
“George,” said he, “you will never find a truer friend than Fitzwilliam Darcy. I am glad you have seen these others for what they are. I am proud of you. A lesser man might have continued on, even knowing these things, purely for the connections and easy path it brought him. I am so proud of you. I am pleased to hear you have chosen to live by the good principles you were raised with.”
George felt his eyes fill with tears. “I love you, Father,” he said.
His father’s hand relaxed as he fell asleep.
George sat at his father’s bedside for a long time afterwards and replayed those bits of fatherly advice over and over in his mind, determined to commit them to memory.
Hours later, alone in his room he wrote them down in his long-neglected journal, to be saved forever.
Robert George Wickham passed away in his sleep just two days later.
George was devastated. Mr. Darcy Senior helped him through the arrangements for the funeral, offering a plot on Pemberley lands to lay his father to rest. George numbly went through the motions, without really feeling anything at all.
He was alone in the world, now. No. Not alone.
He still had the Darcys and he needed them now more than ever.
He was rather surprised to find out his father had left him two thousand pounds in his will. Since he had no present need for it, he left it untouched in his account. More conscious now of his father’s love for him, George vowed to honor his memory and make the most of the legacy left to him.
Fitzwilliam did not say much to the young Mr. Wickham over the next few weeks.
Mr. Darcy offered George a room at Pemberley to reside in whenever he was not at school and George thanked him for the offer, accepting it with all humility.
He moved his small number of possessions to the manor home a week after his father was laid to rest. The cottage, after all, must be prepared for the new steward.
At the beginning of the following term, George began classes in preparation for taking orders. As such, he roomed with others of a similar bent. His roommate was a strange fellow named William Collins, an overly loquacious young man with rather poor hygiene.
George tried to like the man, but it was difficult.
Instead, he focused on helping him become more tolerable, beginning with his habits of cleanliness.
When the bumbler refused to see reason, George offered to prove his position.
He told the aspiring parson to go a week without bathing and to watch how others reacted to his presence.
Then, after that time, to focus on what George had imparted and compare the difference.
This proved fruitful. William Collins began taking regular baths, and as such, gained more friends willing to put up with his verbosity.
Of Darcy he did not see much. His friend was mostly with other young men with a similar passion for learning.
For all Wickham knew, Darcy still thought he spent time with Northmore and his set.
In fact, he hardly knew if Darcy even realized he was studying to take orders.
It mattered not, George decided. The path he took was for himself alone and perhaps to honor his beloved father.
George studied hard for the next two years.
He learned much, but ultimately felt unsettled.
It was as he had told his father years ago - the church was not for him.
He simply did not know how to tell Mr. Darcy.
Fitzwilliam had left university the previous year, so George could not approach him for advice.
He was unsure if his friend would even have any for him.
Fitzwilliam rarely spoke to George anymore, even when they were on holiday at Pemberley together.
That summer, George Darcy died.