His Uncle's Favorite (60 page)

“I understand you, Papa,” said Selina with gentle tenderness.

“As do I, Uncle,” answered Darcy, his voice a low whisper.

“I married in October, and God is my witness that I was determined to do everything in my power to love and honour my wife, but it proved to be more difficult than I feared. Harriet was very reserved; she spoke little, and she rarely enjoyed other people’s company, including her parents and me. We received and paid calls only if it was absolutely necessary. We attended the theatre and opera from time to time, but she seemed to take little pleasure in art. I confess that, at first, I imagined she must have been forced into the marriage as I was. I even suspected that her heart was otherwise engaged and she could not easily bind herself to me. I tried to be patient and not to force my presence on her unless it was necessary. But things between us never improved, and the fact that we were living at her father’s estate did not help.”

His emotions overwhelmed him, and for some time, the earl was unable to speak. As he struggled to regain composure, the viscount stepped up to him.

“Father, there is no need to torment yourself so. We remember our mother quite well, and we remember how difficult those years were. We also remember how kind and affectionate you always were with us.”

“You are generous, Thomas, though I do not deserve your kindness. The truth is those years I was gone most of the time, meeting business partners and searching for ways to improve the financial situation of the family as my father and father-in-law never failed to remind me of my duties. I confess to you that I rather preferred being away as your mother seemed to dislike my presence, and I wished to avoid fights and scandal. My only joys were you, my children; the days of your births were the happiest of my life, and all my work was meant to secure your futures, so that you would have the liberty of making your own choices in life. Each time I returned home, I anticipated your running to me, to see your sweet faces welcoming me, to see how much you had grown… Unfortunately, your mother and I always argued about you. She loved you in her own way, and she was protective of you, so she did not allow me to spend much time with you. She accused me of spoiling you too much for your own good; she pretended that I tried to turn you against her, that I allowed you to be disobedient, that I was too preoccupied to give you enough education. You were so small—just two little boys who wished to play. Then, when your mother was carrying Selina, things changed for the worse, as she could not bear my presence at all. My father-in-law sent me on a long business trip outside the country, and I was away for more than two years.”

“We believed you left us,” the colonel said sternly.

“Forgive me, son. I should have refused to be away from my children for so long, but I was not strong enough to demand my rights. In the meantime, my sisters married advantageously as our parents arranged: Catherine to Sir Lewis de Bourgh—a man of considerable wealth, and Anne to George Darcy—the descendent of an old, respectable, though untitled family. Both my sisters were fortunate to receive what they wished: Catherine—an obedient baronet as a husband, and Anne—a man who loved her deeply and proved to be a close, reliable and helpful friend to me.”

A long pause followed, as all of them found a need to satisfy their thirst.

“On one of my business trips, I unexpectedly met Julia again in Brighton. I confess to you that, in all those years, I never forgot her and I attempted to find news of her several times. Her father passed away when she was nineteen, and she married her father’s business partner; they left the country together, so I was told. And then, one day, I saw her on the beach. She was there with her two-year-old son—a beautiful boy, remarkably resembling her. I found she had married Mr. Wickham, who had been appointed as my brother’s steward. What a strange way destiny had of playing with me…”

“The boy was George,” whispered Selina.

“Yes… I stayed in Brighton two weeks, as I could not force myself to leave. We met daily on long walks as we used to do. And all my sorrow for not seeing you children for such a long time was palliated by having little George around—who was the sweetest boy one could imagine. They were in Brighton for the summer without Mr. Wickham, as the salt air seemed favourable to Julia and her son. It does not honour me to confess it, but my relationship with Julia grew deeper than we wished. I knew her husband to be a good, honest man, very loyal to my brother; she always spoke highly of him, but as happened with me, her marriage was made by need rather than affection, and neither of us could fight our mutual feelings.

“Two weeks later, I returned home and stayed there for the summer. My heart was torn between the joy of seeing you—I barely recognised you boys, so grown up, so handsome, and Selina was the most precious gift I could ever imagine—and the pain of seeing how much your mother had changed for the worst. She seemed to separate herself from the world, and every attempt to speak to her turned into a horrible scandal. It was the first time I noticed her bad treatment of her own children, and that I could not accept.”

“Yes, we remember it well,” the colonel intervened angrily. “I shall never forget her continuous fury, her yelling, her heavy hand when she slapped us or grabbed us by the hair, and all the other punishments when we were not quiet enough or when we were too quiet, when we ate too little or too much, when we were outside or inside. Any reason was good enough to teach us discipline! And where were you, Father? Spending time with George Wickham while your own children were suffering!”

“Robert, you are being unfair!” the viscount intervened severely.

“No, he is not being unfair, though, as I said, the time I spent with George was less than two weeks. You have every reason to judge me, Robert. I shall not attempt to excuse myself nor hope for your forgiveness; I know that you, as a middle child, were the one who suffered the most. Thomas was older and more able to protect himself while Selina was too small to stay without her nanny. But you, my dear boy, were the main object of her anger until that day when, in a furious moment, she pushed you and you fell down the stairs. I cannot tell you what I felt when I saw you tumbling down then lying on the floor, lifeless. If I were not so frightened for you, I do not know what I might have done to her. It took you two weeks to start recovering, and it was not until the end of the summer that we knew you would be well.”

“I remember you were with me all that time,” the colonel said, his eyes fixed on the floor. “For the first days I could not see, so I used to stretch my hand out to feel you. You never left. I did not forget that; I remember praying that you would never leave me again…”

“After that dreadful accident, my anger turned quite wild against your mother, my father-in-law and even my own parents. I decided that, as soon as Robert was fully recovered, we would move to the Matlock estate. I allowed your mother to join us if she wished under my strict conditions. It is enough to say that I found ample arguments to force my father-in-law to accept my demands. So in September we moved.”

“Mama did not come to us at first,” said Selina.

“No, she did not. She came later, and she stayed only a couple of weeks because she could not bear my requirements. She was not allowed to do what she pleased, and she was not allowed to spend time alone with any of you. I cared for nothing but your safety. Every two months, she used to come and stay a few days…until she simply stopped coming…”

“Yes, we remember… What about Mrs. Wickham?” asked Selina gently.

“Matlock was an easy distance from Pemberley, and we spent quite a lot of time with the Darcys. My brother was little George’s godfather, so he was at Pemberley, playing with you all the time. And my sister Anne, who did not have many friends, seemed to enjoy Julia’s company. So we met quite often. But there was no…improper interlude between us while we were at Pemberley—never. It was enough for us to have the opportunity to enjoy each other’s presence, to speak to each other, to walk the grounds of Pemberley with you children, to watch you all playing. It is true, however, that for several years, Julia and George spent the summer months in Brighton, and I visited them as often as I could without staying away from you more than a few days…”

“So all those years you and Mrs. Wickham… And neither Mr. Wickham nor Uncle Darcy suspected anything?”

“I could not be certain of Mr. Wickham, but Darcy surely did not know or he would have confronted me. He would not have allowed my betrayal.”

“And this is how you became so attached to George?” inquired the viscount.

“Yes…and it was not even difficult; he seemed to possess the sweetest, friendliest nature, and he always knew how to charm people around him, including me and my brother Darcy. Then, when Selina and George were eight, Julia passed away in only one summer. I do not know what happened; my brother Darcy fetched the best doctors for her, but no remedy was found. She was simply gone as gently as she had lived. My heart and my mind were broken, and I was never the same after I lost Julia. When she began to feel ill, she made me promise—again and again—that I would take care of George. I promised her, and I tried to keep my promise every day, but now I understand I failed miserably. She asked me for only one thing, and I was not worthy of her trust. I betrayed her confidence. A year after Julia, my own dear sister left us only a few months after Georgiana was born. George was lost, I was lost, two men attempting to take care of our young children—Georgiana only an infant—and of young George Wickham, who always remained dear to our hearts.

“It did not take long for us to notice that George was thinner and weaker than all three of you boys. He did not excel in anything; he used to complain of pain all the time, and we were afraid he might inherit Julia’s illness, so we never forced him to do anything. He was not very easy or quick in learning either, and it soon was obvious that he did not like studying very much. His own father was disappointed in him and often told him so. I even remember Darcy arguing with Mr. Wickham for being too severe with George. Mr. Wickham was worried that his son would never be able to support himself, so my brother promised he would give George a living, to have an easy and honourable way to make a good life close to Pemberley. And George knew and expected that he had nothing to worry about or fight for. I believe this was our most painful mistake. While we gave George the same care and the chance of having as good an education as our children, we never gave him equal responsibilities or duties. He was allowed to believe he deserved everything and owed nothing. Even later, when George grew up and his preference for easy rewards and little effort became obvious, both Darcy and I found reasons to forgive him; I believe that is why, at some point, you children abandoned the hope of seeing me reasonable about him, so you ceased telling me about his wild behaviour.”

No reply came from his children, so after a short pause, the earl continued.

“Later, after Mr. Wickham and my brother Darcy passed away, George told me I was all he had left in the whole world and his mother would be grateful to know he had my protection. That moment I knew I would never be able to abandon him. I knew about his past dealings with William regarding the living, and I never doubted that it was a good decision to deny it to George as he would never be a cleric. But I could never refuse him when he asked for my support—especially when he admitted his faults and deeply apologised and promised to change. I knew he would never keep his promise, but was I better if I broke my promise to Julia? George’s faults are mine, too.”

The last words were barely heard, as it seemed the earl had lost his voice. Selina stepped closer and took her father’s arm then put her head on his chest.

“You blame yourself too much and undeservedly so, Papa. You cannot possibly consider yourself guilty of George Wickham’s faults just because you gave him too much affection! He had all the chances, all the support, all the care one could hope for. Many others have so much less and accomplish so much more! Also, George is not unique in his failure. There are many others, born from the most illustrious families, who had everything in life and turned out even worse than George. You know, Papa, I have two boys, and I would give my life for them any moment. I love them dearly, and I often spoil them, and I am happy to see you and their father and grandmother doing the same. We try to give them affection and care and good principles and good education, but more than that, we can only pray God to allow them to become worthy, honourable young men. Until then, I will never cease to love them.”

“Perhaps it was your fault, Father,” said the colonel. “You and Uncle Darcy were guilty of affection and leisure; you gave him everything and demanded nothing. You taught him he could have his way easily, and he did not have to work hard for anything. You encouraged his weakness and never built his character. You might have showed him good principles and generous care but never taught him how to apply them.”

The earl’s shoulders fell as he listened to his son’s harsh words, admitting their justice.

“But I believe Selina is right,” the colonel continued. “It is not fair to blame you for the way Wickham grew up; it is enough to look at the three of us and see how different we are. And how different you and Aunt Catherine are… And just look at Mr. Bennet, who also blames himself for failing to be a good father; perhaps he is right, too, but he was the same for all his daughters. Then how did it happen that two of them grew up so admirably while the last one, who had the proper example of her elder sisters, turned out so differently? Could it be only the father’s fault?”