Part 1
THE TRIALS OF FREDERICK DARCY, YOUNG GENTLEMAN
A SEQUEL TO “INSIGHT AND SUITABILITY”
After being sent down from Cambridge, Frederick Darcy struggles to develop confidence in himself while coping with family tragedies, recovering from injuries while trying to rescue fire victims, calming the turmoil caused by a wayward sister, applying himself to the rigors of university life, and navigating the treacherous London debut season with his two sisters. Once one large novel, “Distress & Determination” has been divided into two; here is the opening of Part I.
Chapter 1
Fitzwilliam Darcy, the Master of Pemberley, glared at his son Frederick. “You are how old, young sir? Then kindly explain this vulgar and contemptible behavior to me!” He flung down the letter he had just received from Frederick’s college in Cambridge.
Quailing, in a shaky voice Frederick replied, “I am eighteen years old, Sir.”
“And your behavior? Defend yourself!” his father demanded. “Need I remind you that you are a Darcy, and, having reached the important age of eighteen years, I expect you to act like a Darcy?”
“Yes, Father,” Frederick stammered. “I mean, no, I do not need you to remind me that I am a Darcy, your son, but I think I have acted as a Darcy would.”
“You have acted like a Darcy? In what way have you done so?”
He closed his eyes in confusion. “I have tried to act as a Darcy should, that is –”
His father exhaled slowly, still glowering at him. “Then you have not acquitted yourself well. In fact, you have failed to do so.” He flung an angry hand toward the written pages. “I cannot believe what I have been reading about you. You have only been attending your first semester at Cambridge, and this is the report I receive about your behavior and your accomplishments? As I said, your behavior is contemptible and beneath you, and as for accomplishments you have none, as your examination results prove!” He picked up the letter and put on his spectacles. “You will listen to what the headmaster has written! Frederick, for God’s sake, what are you doing gambling, getting into fights, and associating with questionable people?” He slowed his speech. “I am not recommending that you behave in a superior manner to others and hold yourself aloof from their society. However, some people, like gamblers and certain denizens of the streets, should be avoided in general.” He sighed. “I thought you had better sense.” Frederick blinked back the tears filing his eyes, but could not think of anything to say.
Darcy got up and paced a couple of times before turning back to him. “Listen to me well, Frederick. I will not allow any of my fine sons to become wastrels and hedonists, caring only for their pleasures and indulging in them. I will certainly not allow you, or Henry, or Nicholas to spend your time gambling away money, especially funds that are not yours, drinking to excess, participating in fights, wasting your advantages at university, and whoring! Do I make myself clear?”
“Father!” Frederick cried. “Castigate me if you will; I only ask that you criticize me for the sins of which I am guilty, and no more than those!” When his father shot him a questioning glance, he cleared his throat and continued in a voice he wished were steadier. “I realize I have disappointed you and Mother. I admit that I have not applied myself to my studies and have performed poorly on several examinations. I have drunk to excess on more than one occasion – several, in fact. But I have gambled only once, and participated in only one fight.” He gave his father a wilted look. “And I swear to you I have never wenched or wh-whored!” His voice broke. He felt his face burning, and could no longer look at his father.
Darcy sighed again. “All right, Frederick, sit down.” He complied, but could not sit still in his chair. Darcy noticed, but thought he should refrain from criticizing him further. He sat down across the polished desk from him. “How much did you lose the one time you gambled?”
Frederick was rubbing his face and forehead all over with his right hand. Barely audible, he replied, “Fifty pounds.”
Darcy’s eyes closed. “That money was supposed to be for your expenses, necessities as well as entertainments, for your entire first year at university. And you gambled it all away in one night of cards?”
Frederick’s eyes filled again, but he managed not to cry. He was desperate not to in front of his father, no matter what he had done. “Y-yes, Sir.”
“So you have no pocket money at all, and that is why the headmaster sent you home to Pemberley?”
Miserable, Frederick nodded. “I have about one pound in various coins, that is all. I would have borrowed from one of my friends – and found a way to repay him – but the hall monitor had caught us that night and halted our card games. He told the headmaster, who wrote to you and sent me home.” Frederick had arrived unexpectedly the afternoon of the day before; his father, having received the letter, ordered Frederick to confine himself to his room and appear here in the study this morning. No one had gotten to see him except for the servants who brought him his meals; now, after a sleepless night, he was facing his father.
Who was still very angry with him. “I am very glad that he did. How did you afford the carriage fare back to Lambton?”
Frederick rolled his eyes. “I must repay the headmaster for the fare, Sir.”
Darcy gave him a level stare. “How much was it?” Frederick told him, and he replied carefully, “I believe that gold timepiece of yours that you desired so much for your last birthday should bring you enough money to pay your debt to the headmaster and keep you solvent until it is time for you to return to your studies.”
“I do not understand what you mean about my watch, Father.”
“I mean that you should sell it in Lambton. Mr. Touro, the jeweler, will give you a fine price for it.”
“Oh, no, Father, please! Let me repay my debts some other way!”
Darcy knew how much Frederick had desired that watch. “What other way is there for you to raise the money that you owe? For I will not pay the headmaster for you.” He reached across the desk and touched his son’s arm. “You have behaved badly, and been sent down; besides correcting your behavior, you need to experience some form of punishment so that you remember the lesson. Therefore, I am ordering you to sell that watch, the one you prize so highly – yes, it is an exquisite one – and pay your debts with the proceeds. I expect you to give me the money after the sale is concluded.”
“Yes, Father.” Frederick’s voice sounded sullen. “I will do as you say.” He was too miserable to protest any further, and knew he could not prevail against his own father.
“Good, Frederick.” Darcy picked up the letter. “We have discussed your gambling debts.” He perused the sheets of tight handwriting. “I will write to the headmaster, and I am sure when I explain how you are improving your habits and atoning for your behavior, that we will arrange for you to return to your studies.” He read further, brow furrowed, and then dropped the pages on his desk. Darcy had not excused him, so Frederick knew there was more to come, and dread.
“I fail to understand,” his father said, “how you could have gotten involved in that fight.” He looked over at him. “Can you explain this to me? How did this altercation come about, and how did you become involved in it? And did you actually strike someone?”
Frederick’s expression was a mixture of storm, stress, and sorrow. Looking down, he cleared his throat, then raised his head to meet his father’s gaze. “Well,” he began, voice still unsteady, so he paused. “It went like this. It was late on a Friday evening. My friends and I had been attending classes and studying all day long –” He stopped when he saw his father’s skeptical expression. “We had been, Father, I swear! We were all so tired and searching for something enjoyable to do, to relax and take our minds off our examinations the following week.”
“These friends of yours –”
“Rod Urquhart, Alexander Leamington, Eric Langham, and Richard Grantley.”
“Yes, continue.”
“Well, Sir, Rod, Alex, Eric, and I were just wild to do something, because we were so tired of our course work and studying for our examinations, that we were very restless. Richard Grantley, Lord Hartford’s son, who is actually Rod’s friend, not mine so much, came to our dormitory rooms and proposed we go out and celebrate the week ending, and how hard we had worked.”
Darcy sighed inwardly. “And then?”
“We went walking through the town, stopping to sample the ale at various taverns.” Frederick looked away. “Then Richard bought some wine, and invited us over to his lodgings; that is, he does not live in the dormitory as we do. Lord Hartford has rented some rooms for him in the best district, and that is where we all went.” Swallowing, he looked at his father, and hesitated.
“Continue, Frederick.”
“Yes, Sir. As I said, Richard invited us to his rooms. Just before we arrived there, he gave Rod his keys and turned down a side street, telling us to go on ahead, for he would join us in a quarter of an hour. So, we went off to his rooms and opened the wine. And then –” He could not go on.
“What happened?”
Frederick flushed bright red. “Richard arrived, along with five young women. He introduced them as his special friends, and expressed hope we would enjoy their company.” His eyes filled again. “I thought he meant we would enjoy their company socially. But there seemed to be something different about these young women. I couldn’t quite figure it out, but something was bothering me …”
“What were these women like?”
His face was still flushed. “They were all very pretty, but they talked and laughed a lot. They spoke in loud voices, not like Mother, or Aunt Jane, or Aunt Georgiana. They also teased us mercilessly, and their gowns seemed to be very bright, and, well …”
“It is all right, Son, tell me. Your Mother and aunts are not present.”
Frederick looked miserable. “All their gowns were sheer, showed off their ankles, and hung low across the shoulders. I thought we would just be showing them around Cambridge, and take them to supper, or share the wine with them. But when they started sitting in our laps and –”
Darcy held up his hand. “I understand what was happening, so you need not describe it further. But what happened next?”
Frederick hung his head. “I realized they were prostitutes, Father.” He looked up, and Darcy’s heart was wrung by his troubled expression. “I wanted no part of it. I wasn’t interested,” his face twisted, “in bedding any one of them. I swear, Father, I didn’t want to! I was so surprised and shocked that I just wanted to get out of that room, away from that place. These women were so brazen, without manners, that I was ashamed to be in the same room as they. I didn’t know what I should do.” He ran a hand through his hair. “One of them, Polly, I think she said her name was, got hold of my coat and would not let go, no matter how much I squirmed or tried to get away from her. Finally, she lost interest, just about the time Richard announced that it was time for us to become more ‘acquainted,’ as he put it.” He sounded disgusted. “I thanked him and stood up, stating I could not stay out all night, and went to the main door.”
“Go on.”
Frederick covered his eyes. “Richard halted me and asked where I was going. I told him I was returning to the dormitory, though I thanked him for the evening’s pleasures. Richard pushed me back up against the wall, and sneered at me. He said I wouldn’t be going anywhere.”
“My God!” his father exclaimed.
“It’s true he did that! I told him I was leaving, and that I would see him again the next day; but Richard didn’t let me leave. I think he was drunk, and he began – taunting me.”
Darcy closed his eyes. “What did he say to you?”
Frederick looked away with an angry expression. “He was laughing at me because I did not want to bed down with any of the women. He was insulting, saying I would never become a true man otherwise. I told him he was wrong, but he just kept laughing, and said, ‘I understand, you’re a Darcy, and you have to save your seed so you can fill up Derbyshire with more Darcys.’” His breathing was coming intensely now, and he clenched his fists. “That is when I struck him, Sir.”
Darcy blinked. “I see. Where did you strike him?”
“Right in the jaw. Richard stumbled back, and I leapt forward and hit him again.” He swallowed. “The others tried to separate us. Rod seemed angry, but Alex and Eric hadn’t seemed to like the women all that much either, and left with me.” He sank down into his chair, and covered his face with his hands. “Are you ashamed of my conduct now?”
Darcy released a deep breath. “No, Son. In fact, I must say I am proud that you stood up to this Richard Grantley the way you did. Do not misunderstand me, I do not advocate that you should settle all types of altercations with your fists, but I understand that you had sufficient cause to be angry and feel that your ethics, family, and manhood were being insulted.” He sighed once more. “I must also say that I have no interest in meeting this Master Richard Grantley, or Master Urquhart. I take it they are no longer interested in being your friends?”
“Yes, Father, that is correct. I have barely seen them since that night. They avoid me at university, and I think they have been making jokes about me.” He rolled his eyes again. “A couple of fellows have called me a puppy, and recommended that I go home to my mother.”
Darcy made a sound in his throat. “What about your other friends? How have they been treating you?”
Frederick’s expression lightened. “Alex and Eric are true friends, and they have stood by me. They don’t like Richard either.”
“I must say I am relieved of that, for your sake.” Darcy paused. He looked over at his son, slouching in his chair. Understandably, Frederick seemed out of sorts, probably fearing the worst was still to come. Darcy looked fondly at Frederick’s disheveled, curly hair, long over the ears and down the back, a few stray curls spilling over his pale forehead. Darcy noted Frederick’s rumpled coat and waistcoat, his limp cravat, and his dusty boots. He knew Elizabeth would soon be fussing over him to improve his appearance. Was he wearing the same clothes in which he had arrived home yesterday?
“All right, Frederick,” he said quietly. “I am no longer angry with you. I am still disappointed over your examinations and how you have spent some of your time and precious money. However, I will write to the headmaster, and acquaint him with the inclinations of young Master Grantley. I agree that you should be completely absolved of those charges of fighting and whoring. And, as I have said, we will arrange for you to return to your classes. I will also be careful how I explain all that has occurred to your mother, for she will want to know what happened, just as I did.”
“Yes, Father, and thank you.” Frederick put his hands together in his lap, and looked hopeful for the first time. “Is there anything else you wished to say to me, or may I be excused?”