With his cousin serving in the military on the continent and his obligation to finish university, the best he could do was to send Georgiana to Town to live with his Fitzwilliam relations. In the end, those same relations, along with Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had persuaded him that a marriage of convenience was a logical plan, and it would be to his advantage to enter into such a union as soon as he graduated university at the end of June.
William had always been fond of his cousin, Anne de Bourgh, but he knew his love for her would never be the kind of love that should have existed between a man and a woman who were considering marriage. Contrary to his initial inclination, however, he approached Anne at the conclusion of the Lenten term to discuss the possibility.
“Fitzwilliam, you have no idea how difficult it has been to live with Mother ever since my Father died. From the day they laid him to rest, I have been shut away here at Rosings Park. Perhaps my health was not the best, but not being allowed to actively form friendships and enjoy the many pleasures life had to offer gave me little motivation to do much of anything. If, however, you choose to marry me, I promise you I shall do mybest to be the kind of wife who is devoted to you, and I will strive to make your life as pleasant as I am able.”
While there had never been any mention of love, Anne’s sincere plea had touched William’s heart, inspiring him to acquiesce. If a marriage of convenience was what he was destined to embrace, then he would choose her. After all, Anne was family, and had he not been reminded of his familial obligations for as long as he could remember?
Even under those circumstances, William’s marriage was far from what he had initially hoped. For all of the years William had known his cousin, she had been reserved and shy, much the way he inherently appeared to others. Surprisingly, once they were married, this was no longer the case. Without a dominating mother to dictate her every move, it was not long before Anne became an independent woman, one he barely recognised.
To his great disappointment, his wife had no desire to retreat with him to his beloved Pemberley. The estate required his undivided attention since the death of his father, and it was difficult for him to spend an extended amount of time in Town. How many times had he gone north without her? It was more often than he could remember. The long travel made her ill, and after repeated refusals, he rarely asked that she accompany him.
Nevertheless, following Anna’s birth William did try to spend more time in Town, not wanting to be parted from his child. The weeks he spent at Pemberley without her weighed heavily on his sensibilities. He wanted his child to grow up on the land where he had been raised and experience the joys of her heritage. Anne still refused to join him; however, following Anna’s first birthday, she permitted him to take the child along with her nurse as a concession. Having both Anna and Georgiana in residence at Pemberley proved to be some of William’s happiest days. His work was no longer a burden and he took time toenjoy life’s little pleasures as he devoted himself to his girls and provided for them.
In essence, Anne did not mind her child’s absence, for it allowed her more freedoms. She reasoned that she would spend more time with Anna when the child was older and no longer bound to the nursery. After so many years under the rule of Lady Catherine, it was society she craved. Now that she was a permanent resident in Town, there were many who desired to be her friend, and she relished the attention.
To that end, one woman in particular stood out from all the others, a Lady Harriet Dalton. Lady Dalton was close to Anne in age, and with the woman’s husband in his dotage and William often away at Pemberley, the two had become inseparable.
As time went on, it mattered not to either woman that their husbands were unavailable to escort them about Town when they attended various functions. That privilege had been given to Lord Gilbert Webster, a nephew of Lady Dalton’s husband, and to George Wickham, Webster’s good friend and gaming partner. Wickham was a man who had grown up at Pemberley but had not turned out very well.
To his mortification, William was astonished when he received a report from his Aunt Eleanor that his wife and her friend were often seen about Town escorted by those two gentlemen. While he was trying to create a life for his family at Pemberley, Anne and her friends had become a topic for the gossips. Inevitably, he had no choice but to return to Town and address the situation.
“And why should they not accompany us?” she had challenged. “Do not tell me you are jealous, Fitzwilliam?” She laughed with abandon. “Surely you do not think I would entertain a romantic notion with either gentleman.”
He strove to control his anger. “I am not accusing you of anything other than a lack of propriety where Webster andWickham are concerned. Our relationship may not be the best, but as my wife you have a reputation to uphold, and we have our daughter and Georgiana to think of. The fact that you have been escorted about Town by the son of my father’s former steward, a man who has a questionable reputation, has become fodder for the gossips. Not to mention Lord Webster, though titled, is not much better. Anne, I do not mean to be controlling, but you leave me no choice in this matter. I have spoken to Lady Eleanor, and she has agreed to accompany you and Lady Dalton or arrange a proper escort whenever I cannot avoid being away from Town on business. For the sake of our family, it is imperative that you adhere to my wishes on this matter.”
“Fitzwilliam, you are making too much of this,” she fumed. “Lord Webster and George Wickham are simply good friends. Heavens, I have known George since I was a child. Why, it was your own father who brought him to Rosings Park as a suitable companion for you. Did he not sponsor George at Cambridge and bequeath him the living at Kympton?”
“Yes, he did, as you well know. My father was naïve when it came to George Wickham, and I fear so are you. He and Lord Webster are merely after their own interests and care nothing for your reputation or proper decorum in our society.”
He still remembered how Anne had lifted her chin and spoke in defiance as she continued.“That may be your opinion, Fitzwilliam, but for my part they amuse me. And unlike you, dear husband, they are both light-hearted and care not one whit about business matters when they are in my company.”
“Anne.…” He was not pleased with her response.
“Oh, very well,” she pouted. “If you insist, I will call on our aunt to accompany me and Lady Dalton when you are away.” Before leaving his presence she boldly added, “You may as well know, Fitzwilliam, I shall not willingly give up any of myfriends, male or female, when I am left all alone and you are off to your precious Pemberley.”
“I understand, and in turn, I shall do my best to accommodate you by spending more time in Town,” he answered with bitter restraint.
Thankfully, Anne did bow to his request, as she and her friend, Lady Dalton were no longer seen about Town in the company of either gentleman when he could not avoid being away. William was true to his word and had spent more time conducting his business from Darcy House, thus being available to escort his wife when she required his presence.
Anne had never been fond of the marriage bed, insisting that there would be no more children after Anna was born. Nevertheless, when their daughter was two years of age, William petitioned Anne to try again, as he fervently believed his estate required a male heir if it was to continue as it had throughout the generations. To William’s great relief, Anne agreed. Sadly, due to some complications, she did not survive the birth of their second child, Lewis Fitzwilliam, who was stillborn. For days William sat by Anne’s bedside praying and trying to comfort her while she endured a painful end to her life. Although William had his daughter, the loss of both Anne and his son and what it signified in his life left him devastated. Without Anna and Georgiana to care for, he might have bitterly retreated to Pemberley and sworn off all society for many years to come.
Now, however, William believed it was time to marry again. If he succeeded in finding a suitable wife, Anna need not grow up without a woman’s influence, as Georgiana did following Lady Anne’s death. He wanted his daughter to have a mother, and he desperately wanted a son. With those objectives in mind, William had determinedly entered this year’s marriage mart, hoping to be successful in his search. He therefore routinely left his cards, made his calls and had accepted countless invitationsto events sponsored by prominent families who had eligible daughters.
To that end, William’s Aunt, Lady Eleanor, was willing to assist him however she could. With the exception of Lady Gwendolyn Talbot, many of the women he had met held little or no interest for him. Despite his objectives, a woman who was mainly interested in his wealth and position in society would not make a good mother for Anna or a proper sister to Georgiana.
Unlike the others, Lady Gwendolyn, a member of Lady Eleanor’s bluestocking circle, was well-read and engaging. He had spent many an evening at her side occupied in stimulating conversation. She was beautiful, well-dowered, and strongly committed to her charities, not to mention she had got on with both Anna and Georgiana when they were introduced. For some time he thought they would do well together, but in the end his aspirations proved fruitless. At one point Lady Gwendolyn candidly told William that as much as she respected him, she was not inclined to leave her charitable commitments in Town to become the wife of a gentleman farmer in the north. It was for that simple reason that they had never entered into a courtship but continued to remain good friends.
Frustrated by so many dark thoughts, William let out a huff and abruptly snapped shut the book he had been holding, thrusting it back on the shelf. Turning to leave, he was startled when he nearly collided with his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.
“Richard, what the deuce are you doing here?!”
“And hello to you, too, Cousin.” He chuckled, taking William’s protest in stride while holding up a copy of the latest War Journal. “As you can see, I happen to be here at Hatchards doing my father’s bidding and noticed you standing in the poetry section.”
William did not return his greeting, but instead gave him a pointed scowl.
“My, we arerather unpleasant today, are we not?”
“Richard, I am in no mood for your humour. I actually came here this afternoon with the intention of keeping my own counsel for a few hours. If you would be kind enough to oblige me, I would greatly appreciate it.”
