*-These characters belong to Miss Austen, only the Darcy children belong to me. I am simply a humble admirer.
The past two days had been bewildering to Fitzwilliam Darcy.
He and Elizabeth had been quarreling for a reason that escaped both of them. Their children, Bennet and Fannie had noticed their parent’s change of mood and were uncharacteristically quiet.
Bennet snuck into the library, where his father lay with a cold cloth on his head. Reaching for a book, it was just a little too high for him to catch it before it fell. On the way to falling to the ground, the book knocked down a vase that had been purchased by his late paternal grandmother three decades before.
“Bennet William Darcy” his father’s voice thundered throughout Pemberley as the vase smashed into many pieces on the floor.
Bennet began to whimper as Elizabeth, Fannie and Mrs. Reynolds ran into the library.
“Mama” Elizabeth knelt down to her son as tears begin to spill down his cheeks.
“Fitzwilliam, he’s just a boy” Elizabeth chastised her husband as Mrs. Reynolds directed the maids to clean up the remnants of the vase.
“Mama, I’m sorry, I only wanted the book”.
“Next time, darling, if you cannot reach for what you want, you should ask for help”
“I need you and Fannie to go with nanny for a few minutes; I need to have a private word with your father”.
Quietly, the children were led away by their nanny as Elizabeth was alone in the library with her husband.
Mrs. Reynolds heard the tone in her mistress’s voice. Mrs. Darcy was an amiable woman, but she was not above telling her husband when she disagreed with him.
“Whatever quarrel you and I have, Fitzwilliam, do not involve the children. Do you wish your son to grow up with the burden you grew up with?”.
He knew she was right. While George Darcy loved his son, Fitzwilliam knew early in his life of the responsibility that he would one day have.
“I’m sorry, Lizzy, I don’t know what came over me” He cradles his face in his hands, remembering how hard his father had been on him as a boy.
“I know, you are dearest, but you must let our children be children while they are still young”.
“I love you, Elizabeth Darcy”.
“And I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy” the fight was forgotten, but Fitzwilliam regretted yelling at his son.
“Bennet, come here please”
“Yes, papa” Bennet walked toward his father, the fear easily read in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, son, you were not the reason I was upset. I should not have lost my temper”.
“What about Grandmama’s vase?”.
“Your grandmamma left many things, the vase can be replaced”.
“Truly, papa?” Bennet asked.
“Yes, son, in fact, I have a surprise for you” from behind his back he produced a box of wooden toy soldiers.
“These were mine when I was your age, I want you to have them”.
“Thank you papa” Bennet eagerly ran to the nursery to play with the wooden soldiers.
From that moment on, Fitzwilliam made a promise to himself that his son would have the childhood his father was denied.