Page 37 of A Quiet Affection

“This is ridiculous,” Fitzwilliam exclaimed. “You have always been blind with respect to Mr. Wickham, but this is beyond anything before. Papa, listen to me. He is not worthy of the church. The manner in which he speaks to his friends, the casualness with which he ignores his duties—after all you have taught me, I cannot believe that you show so little concern about these matters. Behavior that he freely admits to himself.”

“Most gentlemen sow wild oats before they marry. I will not concern myself with this.”

“Most gentleman! I certainly never have.”

George chuckled and looked at Mr. Darcy with a friendly smile. “Thick-stick-Fitz.”

Mr. Darcy laughed. “Is that what they called him in the schoolyard? Better than my nickname. I was No-Whore-George. My dear Fitzwilliam.” Mr. Darcy now spoke in a voice that was much weaker than how his son remembered it being. “My dear Fitzwilliam. You must not expect all the world to be perfect. George, though I love you, you are not a Darcy. I have never expected you to hold yourself to such standards. Fitzwilliam, youwere born with more fiber in your character. You have neither the ability nor the right to lower yourself to such base pleasures. Sometimes I wish...sometimes I have wished that I was not a Darcy, that I could act as others. To be a fool about a woman. To enjoy such joys as others may permit themselves to enjoy. But I never would, and you never will either. Yet, I beg you, my son, think more kindly upon the frailty of ordinary persons. You must love them, and not hate them, even when you grow frustrated by their immorality and weakness.”

This conversation was different from any that Fitzwilliam had ever had with his father, and yet this expectation that all others would behave in an immoral and irreligious manner was something that he was very much used to hearing. “Papa, I do not expect...Mr. Wickham is worse than the usual run of gentlemen. I know you love George, but I do not say this because I can only respect those who are perfect. I know I am not, as you often tell me.”

“That is a serious claim,” Mr. Darcy said, straightening in the chair. Fitzwilliam needed to have his say, and it was in fact his responsibility to Jane, and to Kypmton parish to listen, even though he knew that there was nothing that his son could say that would shake his determination to see George happy and well provided for.

Almost everything Mr. Darcy did was for his duty, for his family. He could never indulge in such softness with his own children. But with his godchildren, he could indulge his own whims. “In what way is he so bad as you say? You have only spoken of youthful dalliances and a few games of cards.”

“Many of both.”

Mr. Darcy waved the distinction away.

“Is that not enough?” Darcy replied. “Do you mean to marry your ward to a man who I positively know frequents prostitutes, and who will gamble away all her fortune, and who—”

“Good God,” Wickham exclaimed. “You are in love with Jane yourself.”

“I am not,” Fitzwilliam replied. “Wickham, you know that I have seen you—”

Mr. Darcy held up a hand. He stared at his son with a twisted expression. And suddenly the whole of the conversation took a different tone.

He understood.

Oh, that longing. The wish that things could be otherwise.

There had once been a girl, Mr. Darcy remembered her. He let his memory bring forward the oval of her face, the flashing sharpness of her eyes, the curve of her bosom, the happy lilt of her conversation. That girl had been very far beneath him, but Lady Anne had never seemed so beautiful to him as she had.

Yes, Fitzwilliam must go through his trial, and he knew that his son would overcome it.

Mr. Darcy leaned forward, his eyes intent. “I should have foreseen this danger long ago. Of course you are in love with Jane. With her beauty, and the freshness of her bloom, any sensible man of your years must be.”

“I am not.”

“Please, Fitzwilliam, I beg you to say no untruths.”

“I am not in love with Jane Bennet.”

Mr. Darcy stared at him.

He knew his son never lied. But that only meant that Fitzwilliam did not yet understand his own motivations. That was notsurprising. He would come to understand himself in time. “You are, even if you do not know it. With her beauty, of course you are. Any man would be. My poor boy. There is much that you might want that you cannot allow yourself to have.”

Mr. Darcy came around the desk to stand next to him. “My poor boy. But you will not make yourself a fool over a woman whose position is so decidedly beneath your own. I see why you have come here, spouting this poison against my godson. I should have understood it from the first. My dear boy, there is so, so, so much that I have wanted in my life, but which I never let myself have. I wish you did not need to follow my example in this as well, but I have every confidence in you. You will do as your conscience and your duty demand.”

“Sir, I have spoken ofyourduty. I tell you that Mr. Wickham should not be allowed to marry Jane Bennet. He should never be given a living. In so far as I have the power to prevent either of those travesties, I shall use it.”

“Fitzwilliam.” Sharp, snapping voice. Reprimand. Mr. Darcy’s voice was suddenly as it always had been. “I am still the master here. Jane Bennet was entrusted to me by her father, not to you. Not to you. And she is not for you. As much as you would wish to follow your heart, harden yourself. Act as a Darcy. Remember what you owe your family. Remember what you owe yourself. I have seldom been so disappointed in you as I am right now. You must understand that you must allow her to marry another.”

“I am not—”

“Silence.”

His son stood tall, strong, like a grand stallion rearing for the race. Soon his own race would end, and Fitzwilliam’s would begin. All that he could do now was give a few parting words of wisdom, a few orders. And he could make it impossible forFitzwilliam to make the particular mistake he hovered above. “The passions inside a man’s heart are hard to control. I know this is true. But you shall win over your inner struggle. You understand what you must do. Fitzwilliam, go. Go to Matlock; Richard has finally returned from India. You must wish to see him again before he joins his new regiment; you two will enjoy your time together. I will not see you here again until Jane is safely married, and it is too late for you to engage in any further foolishness.”