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Darcy now understood the young man’s predicament for Elizabeth likely dismissed the tutor’s concerns in favour of appeasing Ben’s wish to have his friend Samuel with him throughout the day.

“You have said enough, sir. For now, I encourage you to do whatever Mrs. Darcy has advised. I will address this matter. Soon you shall find that all of your attention is focused upon Ben’s education as it should be. He is advanced in his thinking and reasoning abilities for one who is so young, but that is all the more reason to continue guiding his formal education so that when he is off to boarding school, he will be even further along.”

Darcy sent the tutor on his way, and then strode over to the window overlooking a rather well-stocked lake. Ben and Samuel had a habit of fishing there. While Darcy made certain that Ben was well supervised when anywhere near the water, Ben did not necessarily know it. Ben’s fierce independent streak would have balked at the very notion of someone watching over him at all times. Ben’s friendship with Samuel was not at issue, for Darcy knew how much it meant to his son to have someone of his own age with whom to spend his days. However, Ben needed to understand that he and Samuel were as different as night and day. Ben’s future life would be that of a gentleman, a wealthy landowner and master, whereas Samuel, if he worked hard and applied himself, might one day escape the legacy of his birth, that of a servant, and he might become a physician, a lawyer, even a clergyman. He might even be a steward of a large magnificent estate, but he would never be in the same sphere as Ben.

Darcy’s mind drifted back to the days of his own youth—days played out in much the same way as Ben was spending his days, whiling away the hours with his closest friend. Darcy’s closest friend had been the son of his own father’s steward.

George Wickham.

Darcy shook his head. My beloved father, may his soul rest in peace, never knew what a mistake it had been to expose Wickham to a life that would never be his own—could never be his own. In fact, Darcy had come to liken his father’s charity to a sin: a sin he had no intention of repeating. Darcy could find no fault in young Samuel, none to speak of anyway. He was always polite and good-mannered; just as one would expect of the grandchild of the woman who had been more like a mother to him than a housekeeper in the years after his beloved mother passed away. She was even more so to Darcy’s young sister, Georgiana, who never truly knew their mother.

Still, the prospect of putting temptations before young Samuel Reynolds, of planting seeds of want and aspirations of wealth and privilege in the young boy’s mind, was something Darcy dared not entertain. He crossed the room with long, determined strides and rang the bell for a footman. I need to speak with Ben. Now.

Not long after, Ben and his friend Samuel, to whom Ben attached the appellation Sir Gawain—the most trustworthy friend of Sir Lancelot whenever they took up their Arthurian games, raced into Darcy’s study. “Good morning, Da.”

“Good morning, Ben.” Darcy stood and walked to the boys. “Samuel, how are you this morning?”

“I am getting along very well, sir. I thank you for asking.”

Darcy smiled. “You are quite welcome. I should like very much to have a private audience with my son just now.”

Ben and Samuel exchanged glances: Ben’s questioning and Samuel’s contrite.

Turning to his father, Ben said, “Da, I am excited to go riding this morning, and Samuel is too.”

“I assure you that what I have to say shall not interfere with your plans. Now run along, Samuel. Ben will join you in the stables as soon as we are done.”

Soon after Samuel quitted the room Ben said, “Will you join us on our ride as well? What good fun it would be.”

“Not this morning, Ben. Perhaps you and I shall enjoy a ride later this afternoon.”

Ben’s eyes brightened. “Shall it be the three of us? I should enjoy that even better.”

“It will be solely the two of us, Ben.”

His shoulders slumped, Ben said, “Da, I cannot help but consider that you are not very fond of Samuel, and I think he feels the same. He was hesitant to come with me for fear you might object to his being here.”

“Ben, if your friend was reluctant to enter my study uninvited, then it is as it should be.”

“But of course he had an invitation. I invited him.”

“So you did.”

“Yet you made him feel unwelcome.”

How was Darcy to explain to Ben the edicts of etiquette that dictated that servants did not simply gallivant throughout the halls of Pemberley or enter the master’s study uninvited? Such behaviour was just the thing that George Wickham would have done when Darcy and he were children. That turned out very badly. Fortunately, Ben had never met George Wickham. To the extent it is within my power, he never will.

“An unintended consequence, I am sure.”

“Then you will reconsider? You will go riding with Samuel and me.”

“I never said that.”

“Please, Da. I should like that very much.”

“You cannot always get what you want.”

“I know you tell me that, and I know it is true, but I do not simply want Samuel to share all I enjoy—I rely upon it. It is such a joy to wake each morning knowing we will spend the whole day together.”