Posted on Monday, 31 October 2005
Darcy looked manically at the room. It had been a disused ballroom but when he had been very young, perhaps ten, his father had told him that he should be allowed to have it as his own room.
But he had known even at ten what to do with it.
You see Darcy had a gift.
It was not the normal gift of a wealthy scion but it was a gift.
And now some eighteen years later the fruits of his labour could be seen by all.
Mrs. Reynolds adored showing it off to everyone who came to visit, but she thought that it had all been purchased by Mr. Darcy in London. After all it was perfectly acceptable for a wealthy gentleman to have a good eye for art.
Darcy smiled he let Mrs. Reynolds think such things because it brought her pleasure, but it was not true.
He had been eleven and had snuck into the closet of Aunt Mildred's room. There he looked through the cracks.
There his first masterpiece had been created.
Aunt Mildred reclining with nothing but nature.
In the Classical Style of course!
When he was 12 he hid under Cousin Lucius' bed and peeped up every so often.
There his second masterpiece had been created.
Cousin Lucius standing like Atlas.
In the Classical Style of course.
At thirteen he realised hiding in closets and under beds was childish so he had watched his mother dying.
There his third masterpiece had been created.
His Mother wearing a veil, weeping, going towards God.
In the Classical Style of course.
Fourteen year old boys realise that peeping is not childish and in fact half the fun and from there Darcy's talents had bloomed.
After all why have a portrait gallery of his nearest and dearest when he could have a room full of sculptures? He had the talent and he had the resources.
He was surprised however that no one had made reference to the fact all his sculptures looked like his relations.
Although he never let each relation actually see their own sculpture no he made sure of that.
Darcy pulled the slab of marble closer to him and looked at the sleeping form on the bed, well he liked to say sleeping because it was such a nicer phrase than dead.
But his wife's sculpture would make his collection complete and he could never let her see it.