“As you now know, your father was aware he was ill for some time,” Rumpole began. Darcy nodded it was so. “Not long before his passing, with the aid of his secretary, he wrote this letter and sent it to me with the final version of his will. He charged me to allow you to read this before the will is read.”
The solicitor withdrew a letter from his inside coatpocket. He proffered it to his late client’s son and then slipped out of the study, softly drawing the door closed behind him.
Darcy stared at the letter in his hands. Rather than being scribed with his father’s strong pen strokes, it was written in Simmons’s hand. How he wished his father was still with him, as he was before he was taken ill, not as he saw him the day he left the mortal world.
Looking at the letter would not solve the mystery of what Father wanted him to know before the reading of his final will. Darcy broke the familiar seal, the one from the signet ring he now wore on his right hand. Before beginning to read, William Darcy took a deep breath to prepare himself for the words on the paper before him.
30 July 1805
My dearest, one and only son, William,
If you are reading this, then I am no longer alive and am finally again with your mother, my beloved Anne.
Let me begin by sincerely apologising for not telling you about my malady ahead of time. I should have done so, William. I, more than most, know knowledge is power. It does not pardon my not telling you, but after seeing the way you reacted to the death of your mother, I did not want to burden you with my impending demise.
“If you had confided in me I would have been prepared!” Darcy lamented to his study. He then stopped himself and realised it was hypocritical of him to take his father to task for something he would have done too. He would have thought it his duty to protect someone by not revealing distressing information to them. He shook his head and allowed his eyes to return to the page before him.
Both Mr. Harrisons (father and son) and my solicitor, who I am sure handed you this letter, strongly advised me to share the truth about my health with all of my family, not just you. If I didnot talk to you before the end and tell you all, please accept my abject apologies. I have been debating relating all to you. If I find the words, I will do so before I leave the mortal world.
In the case you were unaware, to my regret, I did not have that conversation with you, one I should have had the day the Mr. Harrisons told me what my fate would be.
Like my choice to withdraw from everyone after my beloved wife’s death was a gross error, so was my choice not to share all with you before it became too late to do so. Not only with you, but I should have spoken to Gigi (she will always be Gigi to me as it is the name your mother gave her) and the rest of the family.
Before I explain a term in my will you may question, I must charge you to live your life and not lock yourself away at Pemberley or any of our other estates like I did.
You have Richard who is as close to you as any brother can be. Do not repeat what I did and push everyone away, especially not Richard. I am not telling you not to mourn, but I am instructing you to not mourn me for more than a year complete. I want you to live.
It has come to my attention based on some comments you have made that you believe marrying for love causes too much pain. If my behaviour since your mother passed has taught you that, then it is my greatest regret. Do not let the self-indulgent and selfish example of my erring cause you to give up on what would be the most wonderful thing in the world—to marry for true love and respect. And no William, I am not telling you to marry a certain rank or class, your mother and I would be happy as long as she is a gentleman’s daughter.
I did not marry your mother because she was the daughter of an earl. I did so for one reason, and one reason only. Love! We fell in love, and it was an unbreakable bond (as your wayward Aunt Catherine discovered when she tried to turn me from your mother to herself). Even with the pain I have felt since my Anne was taken from us, I would not have traded our love for anything.
Had I been offered a choice of never experiencing the pain of her loss or never sharing the love and respect we did, I would choose the latter, over and over, and over again.
Please tell Gigi (Giana I know) I apologise for pushing her away. The older she became, the more she looked like my dear Anne. It was selfish, but it pained me to see her looking so much like your mother.
Now to the will. There are no surprises regarding the disposition of all the Darcy holdings. They are yours, save some small bequests to others. I will mention only this one: I have left Hodges £2,500. He is no longer a young man and I do not want him to work any longer if he chooses not to do so. Please tell him he was the best valet I could have ever wanted to have.
What I want to tell you regards Georgiana. I gave serious consideration to making you the lone guardian of your sister. Then I was going to designate you and Richard as co-guardians. In the end, I chose your Aunt Elaine and Uncle Reggie as her guardians.
Before you allow your equanimity to be disturbed think of this: Since your mother’s passing and I, and to a large extent you did as well, withdrew into myself, Elaine and Reggie have been Gigi’sde factoparents. When not with them, she spends time with your Uncle Lewis and Anne. You know better than any that in the last almost five years she has been very little in our company.
Do not allow your pride and indignation to cloud your judgment. If you, as objectively as possible, think about what will be best for your sister, you will know I have made the right choice for her wellbeing. What would you do if the choice was between you, a young man who is not yet 21, (unless I have passed after your birthday—but I doubt I will live to see you reach your majority), or those who have been like parents to her for some years now.
Darcy stared at his father’s words and the more he did, the more his momentary anger dissipated. “You have the right of it, Father,” he said to the heavens before returning to readthe rest of the letter.
In the event my brother Matlock predeceases Elaine, then his sons and you will be Gigi’s guardians until she is 21. I am however confident Matlock is in fine fettle.
The reason I wanted you to know about this ahead of time is because like I used to, you sometimes, rather clearly, show disapproval on your countenance when you see or hear something with which you are not sanguine. I did not want your aunt and uncle to think you question their fitness to be my daughter’s guardians. You will need them and all of your family to lean on so it will not do to alienate them.
One more thing, William. Duty is important, but it is not, and should not be, the be all and end all of your life. YouMUSTfind the balance that eluded me towards the end. Do not sacrifice the living, and enjoying of your life, using duty as your excuse.
You are a highly intelligent, moral, Godly, and diligent son. I know I am leaving all of those who are dependent on the Darcys in good and fair hands.
As much as I wish I had more time with you, I must say my goodbyes.
Even when I suffered what I can only call my temporary madness and blindly believed young Wickham over you, I never stopped loving you. I am now, and have always been, proud of you, William.
With much love and apologies for no longer being with you,
