Beginning, Section II

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Part 1 Chapter 7

Jennifer and Maria Clara Darcy were two very happy girls on the morning of the 14th August 1826. The party at Haydon had received a telegram, just the day before, confirming the much longed-for arrival of their parents on that fine day. One dear child wept with joy, the other laughed, and their brother smiled sedately, feeling the pressure of age upon his display of emotion.

Julianne was helping the twins prepare themselves, as they wanted to look their best to be able to welcome their Mamma and Papa. This task the young woman found to be rather arduous, because she had, till now, only been accustomed to the fuss of one rather capricious daughter, and certainly not of two. However, as the minutes turned into an hour, with Julianne calmly resigned not to even think about breakfast, various compromises were made, and a tolerable result was achieved with the girls' dark, long tresses.

"Do you think I look nice?" asked Jenny, as she cautiously twirled around in her new dress, careful not to generate even the smallest of creases in the fine fabric.

Clara hopped round the room from mirror to mirror, tripping over her identical gown twice. "Auntie Ju, I look so beautiful, don't I?" she cried at the same time, cunningly making sure that the tone of her voice was loud enough to render her sister's close to inaudible.

"You both look lovely," replied Julianne diplomatically, making a mental note to tell Angela to spruce herself up as well. A little competition would certainly do no harm to her cousin's pretty daughters.

Jenny made her way slowly to her aunt and carefully sat on her lap, folding the skirt prudently under her little frame. "Thank you Auntie," she said in a low voice, kissing her lightly. "I'm sorry you had to go without breakfast because of us," she added apologetically.

"Yes Auntie Ju! We're sorry, Jenny and I! Can you tie my bow again now?"

Julianne sighed. One really had to have limitless patience with Clara. She wondered where she had got her impudence from; maybe there was a streak of Lydia in Elizabeth's daughter? Mr. Darcy must be really happy with that, she added to herself, smiling slyly.

"Aunt Julianne?"

Julianne turned to Jenny, who was, obviously, the producer of the whispered address. "Yes dear?"

"You won't tell Mamma and Papa about the glass of milk I dropped yesterday, will you?" she asked anxiously.

A sudden thought hit her aunt. "Of course not dear. What I will tell them is that Clara dropped a glass of milk, and that Jennifer took the blame, as usual," she said, looking at them closely.

The reaction was exactly that which she expected. The twins gasped and looked at her in mortification. "H-how did you realize that?" Clara fairly wailed.

"I didn't, my dear. It was just a suspicion, and your reaction confirmed it," replied Julianne sternly. "Clara, you must stop lording over your sister in this silly manner, and you Jenny, you have to learn to stand up for your self. Can't you see that this is wrong?" she demanded, rather exasperated.

"But Auntie Ju, it has always been like that!" complained Clara. "Jenny doesn't mind!"

"Are you so sure about that?" Julianne was stopped from further reproach by a knock on the door and the voice of her husband calling for her. "We'll continue this later," she promised grimly and exited the room, leaving two stricken girls behind her.

As soon as Julianne was out of the room, Robert grabbed her arm and led her briskly to their chambers. "Julianne, I want your cousin and her son out of my house," he ordered.

His wife raised her eyebrows at his sudden authoritative stand. "Yes dear. I will kick her out of our home immediately," she replied sarcastically.

Robert's eyes lit up for a second, until he realized that his wife was, as usual, pulling his leg. "I mean it, dear. I can't stand her any longer!"

Julianne closed her eyes and massaged her suddenly throbbing forehead. This was certainly going to be a long day. "Robert, I am perfectly aware that Mrs. Wickham is a little trying..."she began wearily.

"A little trying you say? That is an understatement at its best! If I hear one more time how funny it would be if Neil married my daughter, my daughter!, and what a fine estate Haydon is, I'll pack my trunks and sail for India!" he cried exasperated.

Julianne chuckled. "Don't forget to write, Robert. You will be sorely missed," she said casually.

Robert looked miffed. "Somehow I doubt that," he replied bad-temperedly. "And surely, you must be a trifle jealous of the attentions Mrs. Wickham insists on bestowing upon me," he goaded, hoping to get a reaction more to his liking this time.

"Jealous? My dear, Lydia is welcome to you any time. I don't mind, really," she teased. Seeing that her susceptible husband was not in the least amused, she put her arms round his waist and snuggled up to him. "I'm joking Robert," she confessed tenderly. "I don't want Lydia to have you, or any other Lydia for that matter. But don't make things even more complicated than they are. Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam may arrive any minute, and I'm hoping that your cousin's presence might encourage Mrs. Wickham to think about finding other lodgings," she added, trying to sound as if she believed it.

"I've been hinting at it every five minutes, Ju. It just doesn't work!"

"All right. Listen to me. If Lydia is not in her new house with her loving husband and her charming son by the end of next week, I promise you to take action. Agreed?" Robert was silent so Julianne placed her hand on his cheek to make him look at her. "Agreed?" she cajoled once more.

"I always agree," he huffed grumpily, but he cheered up somewhat we he found that his capitulation had earned him a loving kiss by his wife and a promise for more if he remained agreeable for the rest of the day.

Thus it was that the newly employed maid was very surprised to see her Master, who had entered the room with her Mistress in a very ill humour just a few minutes before, exit it in a very good frame of mind, and with a large grin on his face.

Ben stretched luxuriously on the warm ground, trying to make the most of the sun's rays. He was relaxed and happy. The sun was shining upon him, the little stream was trickling beside him, his sisters were nowhere around, and his parents were to arrive at any moment to spend the rest of the summer with him. Not to mention that it was his birthday in two day's time, and he would finally reach the eleven years of age, an accomplishment which he had very much longed for in the past months. Also, his parents' presence might also cajole his aunt and that hateful Neil to scamper off from wherever they had come from and to leave him, and Angela he added to himself, in peace. Neil's company had been rather trying, and although he had tried to avoid his cousin, the boy would constantly try to provoke him into a reaction, especially by bestowing every kind of civility on the pretty girl who also happened to be his special comrade.

Ben sighed as he tried to put all thoughts of Neil out of his mind, and eagerly anticipated a quiet half an hour of lazing in the sun, until it was time for him to wait for his mother and father with his sisters. A shadow fell on his face, and he opened his eyes painfully, only to see Angie's cheerful face smiling down at him.

"Can I join you?" she asked sweetly.

"Of course you can!" replied Ben, trying to sound gallant and grownup as he eyed the girl and politely made her space to sit down. She looked particularly attractive with her long hair flying loose, and so caught was he in this pretty sight that he didn't notice the scowl that suddenly clouded her face.

"Stop it," she ordered menacingly.

"Stop what?"

"Stop this! Ever since Neil came you've been acting all polite and stupid! Go back to being Ben and rude, before you make me sick!" she replied angrily. Benjamin's compliments and courtesy had reached an all time level of annoyance and revulsion.

The boy hardly had the time to wonder why Angie had used "Ben" and "rude" in the same sentence before his cousin sauntered along, wearing his usual sneering expression, which dramatically softened on seeing the contested lady. "Good morning Angela," he said in greeting, "you look remarkably pretty today," he added, stressing the remarkably. In the past few days, he had found out about Ben's difficulty in pronouncing four syllable words.

"And I like your dress!" added Ben swiftly, only to have the girl throw a clump of soil in his direction.

"STOP IT!!" she bellowed.

Ben coughed out the earth that he has inadvertently swallowed. "What did you do that for?" he demanded indignantly.

"I warned you," she replied angrily, "stop being sweet!"

"Then why didn't you throw soil at HIM too?" he insisted furiously.

Angie averted her face. "Shut up, you're being silly," she replied calmly. She didn't know why she was treating her dear friend so badly, but the coquettish side of her character enjoyed being the centre of dispute between two hotheaded boys, especially if her favourite one was turning out to be so jealous.

Neil snickered and caused Ben to glare at him, his face scarlet with embarrassment. "Now what are you laughing at?" he demanded.

"You Darcys are so dull!" replied Neil, enjoying himself too much to remember that the girl he fancied was a Darcy as well.

"Says who?" she demanded at once.

"My father," answered the young Wickham. "He says that Ben's father is jealous, and has a terrible temper, just like him!"

"My father has the bestest temper ever!" yelled his cousin, trying with all his might to fight back tears of rage. "And why should he be jealous of you and your father anyway?"

"Because Aunt Elizabeth is in love with my father and she married yours just for his money!"

The words were hardly out of Neil's mouth before he found himself sprawled on the ground with a bleeding nose and a painful mark of Ben's knuckle on his face. "You broke my nose!" he screamed.

If Angela hadn't sprung up to hold him back, Ben would have flung himself on his cousin to continue what he had so successfully started. Thus Neil's words did nothing but augment the feeling of satisfaction he was feeling. "I wish I had," he answered scornfully. "Don't you ever dare disrespect my mother or my FATHER again, damn you!!" he added with a furious shout. The boy could not believe that he had said "damn" out loud, and in front of a girl, instead of just thinking it. It felt wonderful.

Neil scrambled up for the ground, holding his sleeve to his nose, as it still was bleeding rather profusely. "I'll go tell, see if I don't!" he warned as he rushed off to the house.

Ben was still trembling with rage when Angela tentatively caught his hand in hers, hoping to give him some comfort. "Why don't you go with him?" he demanded bitterly.

"I'm staying with you Ben. Don't even try keeping me away," she answered determinedly.

Her friend gave her a small sad smile, which faded away as he pointed suddenly at the house. That Darcy carriage had just arrived and his mother and father were being pounced upon by the twins. Neil was swiftly making his way to the house entrance, intent on fulfilling his threat. In a few minutes' time, his parents would find out that he had beaten up his cousin.

The two friends entered the house cautiously. Angela was on the verge of tears, dreading the punishment that Ben was to receive. Mr. Merriman led them gravely to the drawing room, where the rest of the family was waiting for them. Julianne and Robert looked disappointed and worried, Elizabeth was sad, Lydia was smug, Neil, (who had recovered astonishingly quickly), burst into a fresh bout of tears as soon as they entered room. The twins and Phillip were nowhere in sight, and when Ben finally found the courage to meet his father's gaze, he went pale. Darcy looked absolutely furious.

"Come here son," he whispered almost indistinctly.

After giving him a supportive squeeze, Angela released Ben's hand, and he was able to make his way fearfully to where his father stood. He looked up quickly, then immediately lowered his eyes again, finding his father's angry look too much to bear. He had exceeded his daily doze of valour already that day and he did not have any to spare for this particular moment.

"What do I always tell you about the use of violence, Benjamin?" Darcy demanded, raising his voice suddenly. He broke the stillness of the room and everyone, adults and children alike, jumped.

"You tell me --"

"Louder. I'd like to hear you."

Ben drew in his breath and raised his voice hoping that the volume would take everyone's attention of his beating heart, which he was sure each person in the room was hearing. "You tell me that one should never use it...Sir!"

"Do you deny punching Neil?"

The boy met his father's gaze. He was not sorry for what he had done to Neil and he was determined to show it, and come out of this situation like a man. "No Sir. I don't deny it. I did hit my cousin."

"I see," replied his father, folding his arms on his chest. In other circumstances, he would have heard his son's version of his story, but he was not in the best of moods, and this was certainly not the welcome he was expecting from his son. He wanted to make sure that after four weeks of absence, his authority was still absolute with his offspring. "So you chose to disregard my orders, and as Neil said, for no reason whatsoever --"

"There was a reason Father!"

Elizabeth decided to take a stand in this predicament. If their son had dared to interrupt his father and risk increasing his wrath, there was certainly more to this story than Lydia's son had implied. "Fitzwilliam, I think we should hear Ben's side too," she began.

Her son glared at her. He had certainly not forgotten what the whole argument had been about and was still absolutely livid. It wasn't only Neil that had disrespected the family, but to his shocked eyes, even his mother. Unfortunately for Ben, he still had yet to learn that an angry person is not exactly a smart one, and that one should learn to keep one's mouth shut in certain circumstances. "This is all your fault Mamma!" he cried, rashly. "I'm never going to speak to you again! I hate you!"

Elizabeth gasped and took a step back looking at her son in astonishment and distress. This was the last straw for Darcy. Taking one look at his wife's hurt expression, he grabbed Ben roughly from his arm and dragged him out of the room. "I've been too lenient with you thus far," he began angrily. "But this can be easily remedied!"

Angela ran to the door, seeing the unfairness of the whole situation. "Ben, you don't really believe the nonsense Neil said, do you?" she asked frantically.

The boy gave her a stricken, unhappy look, which said it all. Benjamin believed that his mother was in love with his uncle, and he was now going to be punished by the man whose honour he had so bravely sought to defend.

"You parents are so stupid sometimes!" she yelled, bursting into loyal tears, and rushed out of the room, wanting to be there to comfort Ben when he would feel the need of her companionship.

Part 1 Chapter 8

To Angela, who was waiting anxiously by her window for her uncle to come out of Ben's room, the few minutes that passed before Darcy slammed the door shut and walked briskly down the corridor, seemed to be an eternity. She rushed to the door and opened it slightly, noting how formidable Uncle Darcy looked as he marched to the stairs. Ben had given her quite a different impression of his father, and Angie had really imagined him to be very amiable. Instead, all she had seen of Ben's parents, so far, was the stern look on his father's face and as for Aunt Elizabeth, if what Neil said was true...

It's not true! It CAN'T be true! She's Ben's mother! She would have never done something like that!

To stop herself from thinking such dangerous thoughts, Angela made her way to the room next to hers and entered cautiously, scared that yet another hysterical parent would pounce on her. She was still dreading the ire of her mother and father after yelling out their stupidity in the drawing room, and wondered what sort of action they would decide to take. She sighed in resignation but decided to deal with that problem later. At that moment, Ben was definitely on top of her priority list.

The room was deadly still as she walked in, and her shoes made no sound on the plush carpet. She saw her dear friend huddled in a corner, with his head buried in his knees, seemingly oblivious of her entrance. Only when she called out his name softly did he look up, looking at her with sad and broken, but still proud, eyes. Angie sat down on the carpet next to him, and for a while they sat in silence; Benjamin was too caught up in his shock and grief to feel like talking, and Angela was trying hard to find something smart to say, but every mental conversation of hers seemed to be failing miserably.

"Did he thrash you?" she finally asked apprehensively. Ben raised his head and nodded, and returned at once to his previous position. "Does it still hurt much?" she persisted, seriously wondering if her uncle had done something to the boy's tongue.

"No," he finally answered, as if he read her thoughts. "He didn't hit me hard," he added sadly, "it was more his words..." here he trailed off, and gulped.

"Why? What did he tell you?"

"H-he said that I was a disgrace and...and th-that he was ashamed of me," he replied, grief-stricken.

Angela mulled this over. "Well, he was angry," she explained nonchalantly. "He didn't mean it. And besides, Mamma and Papa tell me that they're ashamed of me almost every day, it's not really a very bad thing to say!"

Ben was not to be comforted by this honest confession, as he was still not immune to such a declaration from an adored parent. "You don't understand Angie! When Papa says something, he means it! And he said that he was ashamed of me...it's not fair - I try so hard to please him and he still ..." Ben's voice was not too steady at that point and he gulped once more, brushing away a lonesome tear.

Angie put her hand on his shoulder. "Listen Benny, it's all right to cry, if you want to," she said gently.

It took only those kind, innocent words to cause Ben to break down and burst out crying as is his young heart would break. Angie was astonished at this sudden outburst, and could only pat his back compassionately while he cried desperately on her shoulder. The girl could not quite understand why his father's words had hurt more than his belt strap, but she said not a word, trying hard to remember what her mother did to her when she was in hysterics.

After a few minutes, without them exactly knowing how, the position of the two children changed; Ben was still sobbing miserably, but he was now sprawled on the carpet, with his head lying comfortably on his best friend's lap. Angela was deep in thought, wondering what to do to help the boy as she pensively played with his dark curls, without knowing that her small gesture was still very soothing to the dejected spirit of an unhappy youngster.

After some minutes, Ben had calmed down enough to be able to speak coherently. "I did it for Papa," he finally complained miserably, "I'm not the one with whom he has to be angry!"

"I'm sure he'll tell Aunt Lydia to punish Neil too, now that he knows the whole story," assured Angie.

"He doesn't know the whole story."

"What? Didn't you tell him the truth?" she asked incredulously.

"Of course not! He would be ..." He paused. "Devtated!" he finally burst out, frowning slightly. The word had sounded exactly like that in his mind.

The girl paused for a moment to get the meaning of that one. "You must mean 'devastated', don't you Ben?" she questioned, rather cautiously. Angie had seen enough of Ben's temperament to know when she was treading on thin ice.

The boy's answer was to grunt and shrug ungraciously. "Why did you stop doing what you were doing with my hair? It felt nice," he reproached after a short moment of silence..

Angela resumed the fondling of the curls. "Can I ask you something?"

"No. Not unless you have to," he replied curtly. His chivalrous ways were long gone. Being brave and honourable had only earned him a good licking and a tongue lash by his father, while the real perpetrators of the offense were still scot-free. Forgetting this day was going to be a very arduous task, of that he was sure.

Angie, however, was not really affected by his tone. There was something she really wanted to know, and some brusqueness from her friend's part was certainly not going to stop her.

"Ben, you have been living with your parents all your life, so you should know whether they love each other or not. Why did you believe Neil when he said that awful thing about Aunt Elizabeth?" she demanded.

"What is it that Neil said about me?" asked a third voice, startling them both. Elizabeth had just been about to knock on the door when she heard Angela's question.

The girl seemed glad to see her aunt, but her friend was still too bitter to satisfy his mother's wishes, even if these consisted of just answering her perfectly natural question. "I don't want to talk to you Mamma," said Ben hotly. "This conversation is private."

Angela had already stood up however. "For heaven's sake talk to your mother, you silly, proud boy! If you don't I'll make you!" she yelled. She turned to her aunt and gave her an apologetic look. "Sometimes it's the only way to deal with men, Auntie," she offered by means of an explanation.

Elizabeth looked at her affectionately, but she decided not to risk increasing her son's wrath by agreeing.

"Aunt Elizabeth?" began the girl in a low voice.

"Yes?"

"Are Mother and Father so very angry with me?" she asked fearfully.

Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. "I don't think so," she replied, "but if I were in your position, which I've been many times when I was your age, I would stay out and play for a little while before going to talk to them."

Angela's heart sank down to her toes, but she tried to look brave and practical nonetheless. "Auntie, I'll be playing under this window," she informed her cautiously, glancing furtively at the angry boy. "If Benjamin misbehaves, just call out for me. I know how to treat him!"

Her aunt smirked before turning her worried glance once more to her son. Angela knew that it was time to leave, and slowly went to the door, giving them both one last affectionate glance before closing it behind her.

Aunt Lizzy is almost as nice as Mamma!

Apart from the click of the door, silence once again reigned in the room. Ben was still glaring, and Elizabeth's feelings were in turmoil. She had been very hurt by her son's declaration, but very soon any emotions she felt gave way to worry. She was shocked, not by Ben's outburst, but by the motive, still unknown to her, that had spurred on this affirmation. She had been a loving mother to her Benjamin for almost eleven years now and she prided herself on knowing him well enough to realise that something or someone had certainly shocked him enough to make him turn against her with such vehemence. Just as Angie had done before her, Elizabeth lowered herself down on the carpet, wanting to keep direct eye contact with him.

"Ben, what have I done to hurt you so?" she asked gently.

"It's not what you have done to me, he huffed back.

At least he is talking, thought Elizabeth. It was definitely a start. "Tell me," she cajoled, "if you tell me what I've done, I will apologise, but I can assure you that I never meant any harm, to anyone."

"I doubt that."

"What is that supposed to mean?" No sooner had she said that did she want to kick herself. Why didn't she learn to keep her temper in check? No wonder Ben reacts in the way he does, she added ruefully to herself.

In fact, Elizabeth's response spurred Ben to a rejoinder. "You are in love with Uncle Wickham and you married Papa just for his money!"

His mother gaped at him, absolutely flabbergasted. "Ben, who told you such a thing? How can anyone think that I don't love your father?" To her, it was inconceivable.

"Neil," replied Ben sullenly. "You say it's not true?"

Elizabeth looked at him sadly. "I'm so sorry you had to hear such a horrible, ridiculous lie," she began, "and I'm so proud that you wanted to defend your father so bravely. But, Ben, don't you trust me? Haven't I showed you all the love I have for every one of you?" Her eyes were brimming with tears, and those same eyes showed sorrow, sorrow at being doubted by one of the persons she loved most in the world. How could he doubt her affection towards them and especially towards his father?

Ben shrugged and looked down. "Before you and Papa left for Europe, you were always quiet and cold, especially with him. You used to try and be cheerful with us, but then I always heard you fighting in his study," he replied seriously.

His mother put an arm round him and pulled him near. "I was sad, and tired, and worried about a lot of things," she explained softly, "it was true that with Papa I was never as cheerful as I was with you, but that's because Papa and I love each other so much that we don't have to hide what we're feeling. He would always understand why I was angry, or why I burst out crying sometimes in his study, but with you and your sisters I had to act in another way, not to make you worry. Can you understand that?"

Her son sat silently in her arms for a while, and then nodded. "I understand Mother," he replied. After another pause, he looked up at her earnestly and added what was at that very moment foremost in his mind. "I don't want you to pretend any longer. You have to tell me when you're sad, always, and I'll explain to Clara and Jenny what is happening until they grow as very big as me," he offered generously.

Elizabeth smiled at him, running a hand through his tangled curls. "I'll do that," she assured him, " but you must also realize, Ben, that even people who love each other very much happen to quarrel and be angry," she explained. "Why, look at you and your sisters!"

"Mamma, I hate my sisters."

His mother grinned at him good-naturedly. "Are you sure? Don't you love them, even a tiny bit?" she prodded.

"Well, I guess ... a little," he conceded finally, and then his voice went down to a whisper. "Don't tell them," he warned, "I don't want those two to get too friendly!"

"It will be our secret then." Elizabeth laughed and kissed her son lightly on his cheek, and although he was tempted to rub it off, he didn't, and gave her a kiss back.

No one is looking after all...

"Benjamin?"

"What?"

"Did you notice that you and I hardly do anything together? Many times I feel that you don't really like my company. Is it true?" inquired Elizabeth. She had been thinking about this for quite some time, and she thought that now was as good a time as any to pose the question.

"Of course not!" He looked appalled.

"Then why don't we do things together?"

The boy looked puzzled. "I don't know Mamma," he replied, "I think that you and my sisters like to do a lot of stupid girl things and so Papa and I do boy stuff. Most of the things you and Jenny and Clara like are pretty dull, you know," he added as an afterthought.

Elizabeth thought about that and could quite understand what Ben was trying to say. "Would you like, when we go back to Pemberley, to spend some more time in each other's company?" she offered.

"Doing what?" he asked suspiciously. "You know I hate playing 'house'!"

"We could do 'boy stuff', if you like," she replied, trying to muster some enthusiasm.

"Do you like horses?" asked Ben eagerly.

Those gigantic, snorting, teeth-baring, hoof pounding monsters???

"Ye...es," she lied falteringly.

"Then we could go ride and you may tell Papa to buy me a horse and - but I think Papa is still angry with me, isn't he?" he asked dolefully.

"I will talk to him," replied his mother, eagerly seeing a way out from making promises connected with horse riding, at least for the moment. "In fact I'll go now, and you'll see, everything will turn out well!"

"Mamma?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Can I teach Neil a lesson about not lying about mothers?" asked Ben innocently.

"I'll talk it over with Papa, and I'm sure we'll reach a satisfactory agreement," she answered with a mischievous smile.

"Mamma?"

"YES, dear?"

"I love you."

Part 1 Chapter 9 (Conclusion)

Hi, I decided to end the postings of my story here, since it's not really the kind of story found on this boards. For those who would like to see what becomes of Angie and Ben as they grow up, they can keep following The Son and Heir at the BoI (www.pemberley.com). Thanks a lot :).

She walked slowly to her husband, who looked up and gave her a weak smile, which failed to fool her. She sat down beside him, and put her head tenderly on his shoulder. "If I didn't know what a big boy you were, I would have sworn that you were sulking," she teased kissing him on the cheek.

"I was most certainly not!" Darcy replied, frowning slightly.

Elizabeth didn't know exactly how to broach the subject of Ben, so for a little while they sat in silence, until Darcy, surprisingly, decided to break it. "Elizabeth, why is it that my son misbehaves and I feel guilty for punishing him?" he asked, astonishing his wife with the unsteadiness of his voice.

"Fitzwilliam, you're a loving father, our children adore you --" she began, but was interrupted by her husband, who continued his monologue without even seeming to hear a word she said.

"When I came out of his room and walked down the stairs, I realised one thing," he said sadly.

"And what was that?"

Darcy looked seriously at her, his dark eyes filled with sorrow. "My hand, the one I used to spank him, was red, and it hurt, Elizabeth. Can you just imagine how much a ten-year-old boy might have felt? This shouldn't have happened...it's bad!" he cried, "what will my son learn from a man with thrice his strength who releases his anger by beating him up?"

Elizabeth's heart went out to him. "Fitzwilliam, I talked to Ben, he is fine. He's a strong boy, and your hand didn't do as much damage as you might think," she said, trying to comfort him.

"I'm not saying that he didn't deserve a punishment, because he positively did," went on Darcy, "but I just couldn't think of any other when I dragged him upstairs!"

"You don't have to justify your actions, my dear," she replied, though she dreaded telling him that in her opinion, her son didn't even deserve to be castigated. "Ben shouldn't have hit his cousin," she added as a lame afterthought.

Her husband snorted contemptuously. "For all I care, he could have beaten up all the Wickhams at one go!" he replied scornfully, though he blushed a little when he saw his wife's disapproving frown, "it's not that that angered me the most, but what he said to you!"

Elizabeth linked her fingers with his. "Ben explained why he was so angry with me. Neil filled him up with a bunch of lies, among which that I married you just for mercenary reasons, and that I'm secretly in love with his father," she revealed, cautiously observing her husband's expression change from anger, to incredulity and back to rage.

Darcy turned bright red and stood up quickly, startling the twins, who were being chased by Phillip, and causing them to stop abruptly. The four-year-old, not ready for such a sudden stop, crashed right into them with a loud wail.

"Children, please go and tell Aunt Julianne that your father and I are going to be a bit late for lunch," Elizabeth ordered hurriedly.

Jenny and Clara nodded quickly, grabbed hold of poor Phillip's hands and rushed off. Darcy let out a deep breath. "Brilliant, I scare my daughters now, as well," he muttered. His wife didn't answer but put her arms round his neck and kissed him softly. "Please, go and talk to Ben," she pleaded, "all he did was for you ... and for the Darcy honour you tell him so much about."

Darcy was still not too ready to forgive though. "But why doesn't he care for your honour too?" he asked. "He shouldn't have believed a word that young Wickham said!"

"He made a mistake, Fitzwilliam. He confused my sadness of the past winter with indifference towards you, and he couldn't understand why someone couldn't love the Papa he admires so much. Besides, he's a young, impulsive boy who needed an excuse to set his rival down," replied Elizabeth wisely.

"Rival?"

"I think he started to notice girls, my dear," said his wife with a proud smile.

"Angie?"

"The one and only."

Darcy shook his head and stared at his wife, amused. "What have Robert and Julianne done to our children?" he asked in amazement. "On my first day back in Madre Patria, I find out that my eldest is attracted to the charms that a feisty eight-year old can offer, and - this is much harder to believe - just now, I heard Jenny contradicting Clara. It was a whispered dissent to be sure, but a contradiction all the same!"

Elizabeth chuckled, glad to see her husband joking again. "By the way, dear, you really must teach me how to ride a horse," she began with a mischievous grin.

"You, on top of a horse? Dearest, you must be joking!"

"And of course, I need some new riding clothes, and I think it's time for Ben to have a horse of his own and --"

Darcy silenced her with a groan. "I know what you're doing, Elizabeth," he accused jokingly.

"What?"

"You are punishing me for being angry with my son, aren't you?"

"Fitzwilliam, dear, not everything that happens in our family must concern you. You realise that, don't you?" she teased reaching out for his hand.

Darcy gave up and followed his wife inside, mentally calculating how much an outburst with his son would affect his capital.

Angela was confused. And she was also suspicious. What was happening? Why hadn't she been punished yet? Her parents had still made no mention whatsoever of what she had done that morning, there had been no reproachful glances, or intimidating throat clearing and even now that the family was at table for lunch, her mother and father still behaved as if nothing had happened.

Only when her plate was brought in front of her did she understand. Only the diabolical mind of her mother and father could ever devise such a terrible punishment. She caught them sharing a triumphant smile, and looked at them, appalled. She hated that smile, because she was usually the reason behind it, and this time was no exception. Her parents had made sure that she got an extra helping of tomatoes - tomatoes! - in her plate. This was no punishment for most of the children around the world, but the fact was that Angela Darcy hated tomatoes; she couldn't even stand the sight of them. Robert and Julianne grinned when they saw their daughter glare at them. Although they tried hard to act as stern, mature parents, they couldn't really disregard the feeling of satisfaction they experienced every time they prevailed over their daughter.

Angela was not one to give up easily, however, and she raised her head to address her most cooperative cousin. "Jenny? Would you like to have some of my tomatoes? They're very good," she cajoled. Jenny looked at her in bewilderment but being unable to disappoint anyone, she held up her plate bravely, although she was fully aware that it already contained quite a generous portion of the red fruit.

Before the enthusiastic Angela could get rid of the horrible, red concoction, Robert put on his most charming smile and stopped her. "Angie dear, Jenny has quite enough tomatoes in her plate, don't you think?" He lowered his voice and bent down to whisper in her ear, "careful angel, it's either that, or a punishment similar to Ben's."

"I was only trying to be nice!" whispered back his daughter, eyes open, all innocence.

"Dear, I'm not always stupid, you know," replied her father, still looking absolutely amiable.

"I never said you were always stupid, just sometimes!" replied Angela hotly, "it's the truth after all. I say, even I happen to be a little stupid from time to time!"

"At least she has learnt a little humility," put in Julianne wryly, while the twins and Phillip stared at them in astonishment. Lydia didn't even know what was going on, while Neil looked too caught up in his personal worries to pay attention.

"All right, I'm sorry I said that you are stupid, but you always tell me to say the truth," insisted her daughter. She was definitely not giving up until she had exhausted all arguments.

Julianne gave her husband a warning look and took a long sip of her drink before answering her. "Angie, it's true that we want you to say the truth, and it's granted that both your father and I are far from being perfect and very much prone to making mistakes. What is as important for you to learn is that you have to respect whoever you are talking to, and not just blurt out whatever comes into your head," she explained patiently.

"So you are not punishing me for pointing out something that was the truth..." the girl said pensively.

"We just want you to think before speaking," put in Robert, "it shouldn't be too hard for a girl with the intelligence she always proclaims to have, don't you agree?"

Angela's eyes narrowed to slits before she nodded her assent, still trying hard not to look too penitent. Her gaze went again to the tomatoes. She had desperately hoped that their number would have miraculously diminished in the meantime.

"Papa?"

"Yes?"

"Do I still have to eat these nasty things?"

"Of course dear, till the very last bite."

Just then, Darcy and Elizabeth entered the room and, on seeing her uncle, Angie bent her nose down to her plate, and her fork into the tomatoes, and pretended to be eating them with great gusto. However, Darcy was not really interested in Angie, though he was certainly looking at her with an amused expression. His attention was on Lydia, and her sullen son.

"Mrs. Wickham, I would like to have a word with you after lunch, if that is convenient," he announced politely, though his tone and expression left no doubt that he expected a favourable answer.

"What would you like to talk to me about?" asked Lydia, immediately going on the defensive.

Darcy gave her a wry smile. "It has been brought to my attention that you and your husband have taken quite an eager interest in the affairs of my immediate family," he explained. "However, there are some points on which you seem to be rather misinformed, and my desire is to set these inaccuracies straight, before any more trouble is created among the people whom I hold dear." This last part of the sentence was directed specifically to his nephew, who had gone pale.

Angela stared at her father's cousin in awe. He might certainly be stern, but he had an incredible way with words. Suddenly she realized that it was definitely time for William Darby to make his entrance in her novel.

Ben rushed out of the house, inhaling deep breaths of the fresh summer air. "It feels so good to be free!" he cried happily to Angela who stood beside him, trying hard not to roll her eyes.

"Baby!" she said scornfully, "you hadn't been locked up in your room more than two hours!"

"You should certainly know how boring and stuffy it is in there," he teased promptly. "Weren't you in my same position just a month ago?"

Angela shrugged nonchalantly but it was obvious that she was very happy that her best friend was back in his father's graces. He and Darcy had spent some time talking together and were back on the friendly terms that always characterized their relationship. No one knew exactly what had been said between him and Lydia, except for Elizabeth, who went around the house with a very wide smile pasted on her face, but Mrs. Wickham had stormed out of the library, declaring that she had never been so "infamously" treated and vowing not to stay one more day in a place where she was not wanted. The Master and Mistress were immediately informed of the intended departure, and many were those servants who commented about the excessive number of maids which had been sent to aide Mrs. Wickham in her packing.

A carriage had been prepared to escort Lydia and Neil to a nearby town, where Mrs. Wickham would be able to find a suitable accommodation. While the whole party was anxiously awaiting this departure, Ben and Angie were on their way to the Great Oak, where they could get a very good view of the carriage as it left, without pretending to be sorry about it. To their surprise, they found that Neil was sitting dolefully at the foot of the tree. He had obviously been waiting for them.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Angela angrily, "this place is just for me and Ben, and for no one else, you understand?"

Neil looked hurt, but not surprised. He had clearly not expected a better reception. "I just came to tell Ben that I'm sorry for what I said this morning," he mumbled.

Ben looked stunned, but before he could reply, Angela barged in. "You're just a fibber! People like you are never sorry, they're just selfish and wicked! Because of you Ben was beaten up - you are just as horrid as your father!" The girl had no idea who Neil's father was, but from what she had understood, he must be pretty awful.

Neil went bright red with mortification. "I'm not like my father! Don't ever say that again!" he yelled.

Angela was ready to pounce on him and finish what Ben had started but her friend intervened. "Angie, he apologised, it's all right, really," he cajoled.

"All right? How can you say that? Look what happened because of him!"

The boy looked at his cousin for a few moments, noting, for the first time, the real expression on his face. Neil didn't look sullen, or derisive or even angry. He seemed to be just so incredibly unhappy. "Angie, I'd like to speak with Neil, alone, if you don't mind," he said quietly.

His friend gave him a fierce glare before she sauntered off in a huff, grumbling about "ungrateful little pigs" and "spineless ugly donkeys". Neil addressed Ben apologetically. "Will she forgive you?" he asked worriedly.

"Of course she will," replied the boy confidently, "she always does." The two cousins stared at each other awkwardly, before Ben found the courage to start talking again. "Why did you say such a horrible thing about my mother?" he asked seriously.

Neil looked down and dug some earth with his shoe. This action seemed to be a similarity shared by the two boys, and it certainly did not escape the young Darcy. "I don't know exactly," mumbled Neil in shame, "it's just that you are always so...so--"

"So what?" demanded his cousin curiously.

"So happy," confessed Neil. Seeing Ben's surprised look, he hastened to explain himself. "When you talk about your family, you always speak of how much you love your parents and what they do to you, and the presents you get, and how nice it is at Pemberley," he began awkwardly.

"But it's true," insisted the other.

"I know it's true. That's why I hated you for it." Neil sneaked a peek at Ben's face, but he didn't look angry; in fact the expression on his features was one of understanding. "You are proud of your family, and they love you, but it's not the same for me."

"What's wrong with your family?" asked Ben, though he already knew the answer.

"I hardly ever see my father, and whenever I do he is either drunk or angry at me for some reason I can never understand. Mother is always complaining about how her sisters don't care for her now that they were married, and how even grandmamma abandoned us since she got what she wanted from your father and all my other uncles," confessed Neil, trying to refrain from bursting into tears.

"That's awful," whispered his cousin.

"The only person who took any notice of me was grandpa Bennet, because I used to spend a lot of time at Longbourn while Mother and Father were in Bath or London, and now he died...and - and I couldn't even say goodbye since my parents refused to attend the funeral." Neil concluded his story sadly, his eyes swimming in tears. "Benjamin, please forgive me," he added.

"It's all forgotten, Neil," he replied, smiling widely. "Listen, would you like to write to me sometimes?" he offered after a minute.

"To write to you? At Pemberley?" asked his cousin incredulously.

"Yes! Where else? It's a terrible pity that you can't stay for the party, but I will be back in Derbyshire in October," said Ben, "whenever you feel sad or angry, you can just write to me, instead of feeling jealous and spreading lies! Make sure you send me an address where to write back though."

Neil nodded eagerly. "Does this mean we're friends?" he asked enthusiastically.

"Of course we are, Neil. We are cousins after all!" replied Ben kindly. "We won't make such fools of ourselves, as our fathers did. Agreed?"

The other boy looked at him in admiration, realizing with a pang how wrong his behaviour had been so far. "Agreed," he said slowly. The two boys shook hands, and at that moment sealed their bond. Neil realised with pleasure that he didn't have to be alone in the world anymore, while Benjamin learnt that, after all, being a Wickham did not necessarily mean being bad.

The last summer month flew at Haydon, and before the Darcy children knew it, it was time for their family to go back home. Autumn was on its way, and with it the long hours of study with a demanding tutor for Ben, and an amiable, but also insistent governess for his sisters. The winter months brought with them also a new evil, particularly for the boy, who would, for the first time, suffer from the loss of a valuable companion such as Angie. Try as he might, not even the complacent James Bingley, a frequent visitor, would be able to alleviate it and thus it was with a very unhappy spirit that Ben and Angela sat down, for the last time, on the broad branch of their very own tree.

"Papa said we might be visiting you for Christmas," said the girl softly as they stared down at the large mansion.

"That's still ages away," replied Ben sadly, trailing the irregular curves of the branch with his finger, in a desperate bid not to look at his friend and burst out crying.

"I will still write to you if you like," offered Angela cautiously, "and don't worry, I won't use long words. I can't spell them."

"You can write as many long words as you like," retorted her friend, a trifle indignantly, "I know how to read them!"

Only you can't say them out loud...
I can if I try hard enough!

Angie pulled a face at him, but due to the unfortunate circumstances, she could not afford to be annoyed for long. In fact the boy's parents were already on their way to the carriage, and the twins were hugging little Phillip tightly. The girl could not see well from such a distance, but she could only surmise that her little brother was not too sorry for his friends' departure. As they made their way slowly down the hill, Ben abruptly broke the unhappy silence.

"Angie, if I own up something, will you promise not to tell?"

"Promise! Now 'fess up!"

On a sudden impulse, the boy bent down and gave her a chaste peck on the cheek. "I'll miss you a lot," he confessed.

Instead of the slap he expected to receive, Angela smiled and repeated the gesture. "Benny, it's nice to share a secret with you," she whispered mischievously.

On their voyage back home, Ben was very silent, and surprisingly, not even his sisters interrupted his thoughts. However his behaviour did puzzle them, and they were curious to know where his mind wondered, especially when he stared out of the carriage window, blushing slightly, with a huge, wistful smile that seemed to be permanently glued upon his face.