The Son and Heir ~ Section I

By Daniela

Section I, Next Section

Part 1, Chapter 1

Posted on Saturday, 2 September 2000

As I promised, this is the sequel to "The Making of a Gentleman". For those who have not read my previous two stories it shouldn't be too hard to catch up. I really hope you like it! :)

"This is unfair Papa! Unfair and totally cruel!"

These indignant words were just pronounced by Benjamin, the ten-year-old son of Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy, Master and Mistress of the prosperous Derbyshire estate called Pemberley. Young Ben was the eldest of three children and sole heir of his father's land. However, although the young master had much to be proud of, he was known by all to be a good-natured generous lad, a friend to all and a foe to none. He knew himself to be luckier than most children of the region and was taught, especially by his mother, to compensate any difference in status by amiability and an open mind, a lesson that many years before, she had also taught to his father. Fitzwilliam Darcy had found it hard to learn, much harder than it was to Ben, but like his son, he had succeeded and was to all, young and old, rich and poor, one of the most respected landlords and Masters in Derbyshire.

Benjamin also happened to posses the ability of winning other people's hearts just by making profitable use of his good looks, mostly inherited from his father, but most of all by the gaze of his sparkling black eyes, which were one and the same with his mother's. Ben was well aware of the power he held with those eyes of his, and had, throughout the years, elaborated a careful technique that would enable him to get whatever his heart desired. Fortunately for his loved ones, this was usually not much, since Ben was never avaricious and more often than not, was very much satisfied with the simplest of things, and the company of his father, whom he absolutely adored.

At that moment, however, adoration was not the best adjective that could be used to describe the young boy's sentiments towards his Papa. Ben was angry, astonished, hurt and disappointed. After anticipating an uneventful summer at Pemberley with his family, Ben was suddenly dealt with a staggering blow. His father had just told him that he and his mother were to travel to Europe for a month and in the meantime, Ben and his two sisters, six-year-old twins called Jenny and Clara, were to stay with Darcy's cousin Robert and his family at Haydon, in Northinghamshire.

Seeing that his father's response was only an understanding look, Ben tried with another tactic. Flashing a reproachful pair of beautiful eyes in his father's face, he continued his tirade. "This is not how you taught me, Papa! This is not honnible!"

Whatever effect his menacing tone had had on his father, this was immediately lost by his unfortunately inability to express correctly words that were made up of more than three syllables.

"HONOURABLE," corrected Darcy tactfully, smiling encouragingly.

"Yes, that too! Can't you see?" pleaded Ben throwing himself stubbornly on his bed, belly downward, propping his unhappy face on his hands.

Darcy sighed and set beside his son, ruffling his curls, which never quite stayed in the place they were brushed in. "Ben, tell me honestly, what is that makes this situation unfair, cruel and dishonourable?" he asked gently. He didn't really want to upset his children, but there were times when they had to try and understand his point of view, and he made sure that that happened not through ordering them about, but by talking them through the whole affair until they agreed.

Ben heaved an impatient sigh and rolled over, making sure that his father was well aware of the huge effort he was making. He rolled his eyes patronizingly, and began his accusatory address. "First of all," he said, "it's absol-ab-really unfair that you and Mamma are not taking me, us with you!"

Darcy was totally prepared for Ben's accusation, and patiently resolved to defend himself. He urged him to sit up and looked at him with the utmost seriousness. "Listen to me, Ben. You know your mother has been very sad and tired since Grandpa Bennet died," he began. The boy looked down in remorse and nodded. "So don't you think she deserves to be away for a few weeks without having to worry about you and the girls all the time? And anyway, it will be only for four weeks, then we'll join you at Haydon." There was a pause. "Come on, Ben, don't cause trouble," pleaded Darcy.

The boy looked sadly at his father. He did understand what he was saying, and he missed Grandpa Bennet too, but still, what Darcy had told him did not quite erase the hurt at being left behind. "But Papa," he insisted, "why can't we go and stay at Uncle Bingley's instead? You know how much I like James!"

"Ben, Aunt Jane is having a baby, she can't really take care of you and the twins, besides James and Matthew," replied Darcy, marveling at his seemingly unlimited patience. "And besides, you know Uncle Robert lives so far away from the rest of us, so Angela and Phillip don't get to meet al lot of people like you. It will be very nice for them to get to know you a bit better," he added cautiously.

His son was not to be convinced so easily. "So now I'm going to be lumped with a whole bunch of girls for the rest of the summer! That's unfair!"

"What about Phillip?"

"He's four! He doesn't count!" was Ben's indignant reply. "And if he's like Angela, he is no fun at all."

"What's wrong with Angela?" asked Darcy, genuinely puzzled. "You have hardly ever seen her!"

"All girls are tiresome, silly and disgusting," said Ben with certainty.

"Do you find your mother so, too?" asked his father amused.

Benjamin looked shocked. "Of course not! And she's Mamma!"

"And Aunt Jane?"

There was a dubious silence at this. "She smiles a bit too much, doesn't she Papa?" he asked innocently. Darcy tried to look disapproving, but he couldn't help remembering the time when he had voiced the same sentiments to Bingley, many years before. There was absolutely no doubt in the world that Ben was his son, he thought proudly. "And look at Jenny and Clara!" continued the boy rather rashly, "they're insupp - er...unbearable and stupid!"

This time his father did frown. "Benjamin, I won't have you talking in this manner about your sisters," he said sternly.

Ben flushed and looked down, hoping to get his father's attention off from an extremely embarrassing trembling bottom lip. It did not work.

"Why is it that you don't get along with the twins?" asked Darcy in a much gentler tone. "I've hardly ever seen you three doing something together."

"Jenny and Clara are always together and they don't have place for me," answered Ben truthfully. "And I hate it when they go around hand in hand looking so alike all the time!"

Darcy had to admit that his son had a point there. The twins were inseparable and did not take much trouble to mingle with the rest of humankind, except for Elizabeth and himself. Also, they were indistinguishable to all but their parents, and Darcy himself still mixed them up occasionally. "Would you like a trick to tell your sisters apart?" he asked Ben with a grin.

"That would help," he replied, with a small smile of relief.

"Let me tell you then," he said conspiratorially. "Most of the times, one of them is crying...that is Jenny."

Realization suddenly dawned on Ben as he stared at him, dark eyes wide open. "Then Clara must be the prim and proper one!" he exclaimed. He couldn't believe that it had taken him six years to realize this.

"Right on the first try!" replied Darcy laughing. "There, you see? It's not so hard after all, and you will have a month to practice!"

Ben's face fell a little but he grudgingly gave up. "All right Papa, I'll go to Haydon and you'll come after four weeks, not a day more, all right?"

"I promise on my honour," replied his father gravely as they solemnly shook hands.

"There! I didn't cause any trouble, did I?" Darcy marveled at his son's convenient memory but wisely decided to let the matter pass. "Papa, did you tell Clara and Jenny about all this?" continued Ben, as his father got up to leave.

"I did," replied chuckling slightly. "And since it was an arduous task, there was also your mother to back me up and give me moral support."

"How did it go?" asked Ben grinning widely.

"Honestly son, I don't know. I doubt that Jenny stopped sobbing long enough to listen to a word I said." And with a wink and a shared smile, he was gone.

Ben threw himself back on the bed, his arms spread on the mattress. The only thing he could remember of Haydon was Uncle Robert and the times when he went riding with him, and Aunt Julianne who used to take him on long walks with his mother. It had been years since he had last seen them, at Phillip's christening, and he and Angela had spent the whole time glaring and making faces at each other.

I wonder what's she is like now...

"Mamma, please don't go! We'll be good, we promise, please please don't go!" wailed the twins as they clung to their mother's dress. It was the day of the departure, and the family was standing beside the carriage, which was patiently awaiting the Master and Mistress, who were, to the amusement of all the staff, being held hostage by two wailing six-year old girls. Ben was standing a little apart, digging dirt with his once immaculate black shoes, and thinking that four weeks seemed to be much longer than he had anticipated. To be honest, he would have liked to have a good cry as his sisters, but he was much too proud to do so in front of his family.

Elizabeth looked helplessly at her daughters, tears brimming in her own eyes. She turned to her husband, who was watching the whole scene with some impatience. "Fitzwilliam, do you think we still should --?"

"Yes, dearest we absolutely should," he said firmly as he detangled two pairs of little arms from his wife's waist.

"But Papa! There are bears and Romans in Eulop!" sniffed Jenny.

Darcy smiled patiently. When were his children ever going to learn how to speak? "It's EuRope, Jenny, and I can assure you that Julius Caesar has been dead for quite some time," he replied sardonically.

"Really? Honest?"

"Honest! So you see? There is no problem, and the bears don't travel in big cities."

Jenny found herself vanquished and had to release her parents with one last kiss and hug, followed by Clara, who seriously told them to beware of the nasty "pirates". This time Darcy decided wisely not to bother to rectify that comment. Ben walked slowly and hugged his mother tightly. "Enjoy yourself Mamma," he whispered, "you deserve it."

Tears ran down Elizabeth's face as she embraced him for the last time, before Darcy helped her up the carriage. Ben walked up to his father and smiled at him sadly. "If you really are a man and you had a sense of team spirit , you shouldn't enjoy yourself," he challenged.

"Let's make a deal, shall we?" said Darcy as he bent down to look in his son's eyes. "I will try to enjoy myself in Europe as hard as you will try not to at Haydon. Deal?"

Ben mulled this over. "Papa? Why do I feel as if I have been had?" His father shook his head cheerfully and went into the carriage. "One last thing!" he called just before the horses started to move.

"What?" snapped Darcy, a little impatiently.

"Don't bring a baby with you from Europe," he warned. "And don't try to get out of this by bringing two like the last time!"

Darcy stared at his son incredulously, wondering whether he could dare to laugh at his innocent statement. He decided not to. "We will not bring any babies with us," he promised solemnly, measuring every word.

"Good, you can go now, Papa!"

The carriage left, and the three Darcy children stared after forlornly, before being led by their governess back into the house to prepare for their departure the following day. Ben was walking briskly to the house when he heard a sniffle behind him. He whirled round and glared at his sister. "Stop it Jenny! We are to go to Haydon whether you like it or not, and I don't intend to listen to your weeping any longer!"

Jenny turned to Clara, looking at her in amazement, as Ben rushed up the stairs. "Clara, did I hear right? Did he really call me by name??"

Part 1 Chapter 2

Posted on Thursday, 7 September 2000

The destination of the journey that had put the Darcy children in such unhappy spirits was Haydon Manor, the grand, profitable estate owned by Robert Darcy, the son of the late Mr. Darcy's younger brother, and thus Fitzwilliam Darcy's nearest kin beside his sister Georgiana. Robert was a few years younger than his cousin, and people said that he was perhaps of a more cheerful disposition, but still all their acquaintances were quite able to vouch for the fact that the two men had quite a lot in common.

Besides the fact that they both shared the typical dark, handsome looks that graced most of the male members of the Darcy family, they also shared a remarkable admiration towards intelligent, witty women, who utterly refused to throw themselves at their feet. In fact, almost a year after Fitzwilliam had managed to secure the hand of the charming Elizabeth Bennet in marriage, Robert fell completely in love with the lady's cousin, the former Miss Philips, whom he met on a visit at Pemberley. Miss Julianne was then a pretty nineteen-year-old girl, with a stubborn spirit and a lively disposition that was seriously put to test by the uncanny vulgarity and silliness shared by her mother and her aunt, --the mother of Fitzwilliam Darcy's bride-- and who fortunately for the young man, matched his admiration, with a strong partiality towards him of her own.

However, while the newlyweds delighted themselves with that happiness that a truly equal union could bring, Mr. Darcy and Miss Philips started to experience, to their mutual dismay, the results that an impulsive attempt at courtship could bring to a young, headstrong couple. After an unfortunate incident in which Robert, through bitterness, a jealous University mate and an excess dose of alcohol had succumbed to the charms of a beautiful barmaid, all thoughts of marriage were over, and Miss Philips vowed never to see Mr. Darcy again. It had taken long months of heartbreak, and a steady progression to maturity from the young man's part that had finally cajoled the forgiveness in the generous heart of the lady.

So Robert and Julianne were married, and before long, they were blessed with the birth of a lovely baby daughter, who, although born a whole month before the due time, possessed the strong constitution of both her parents and like the true angel that they were convinced she was, grew up to be a strong, pretty girl that filled their life with joy, especially when this was added to by the birth of Phillip, four years later.

Angela Darcy was a plump, healthy girl of eight, with large blue eyes and a sunny smile with which she graced most of Haydon's inhabitants. Her long fair locks were usually loosely divided into two pigtails by two ribbons at the nape of her neck, leaving little wisps of shiny hair to crown a tanned, happy face. She was loyal and friendly, but also fiercely independent and protectively jealous of all that belonged to her or her family. Robert had once said that his daughter sometimes reminded him of a cat, an animal famous for its territorial instincts and its unpredictable moods. In fact, Angela was fully capable of turning from a mouse to a tiger in a matter of seconds, and her obstinacy was well renowned among the servants and villagers. For all her faults however, the little lady was loved by all, and one little flutter of her long eyelashes was enough to melt even the most hardened of hearts. Although her mother and father were very careful not to spoil her, it was known fact that Robert was the more indulgent of the young parents, and that all through her young life, Angie did have her own way a few times too many.

She was at that moment in the stables, affectionately grooming her horse. Blaze had been her very own for almost two years now, a present from her father for her sixth birthday. Her Mamma had not been pleased, saying that she was too young to be able to go on horseback and take good care of the animal. Her Papa, however, had encouraged her to prove her mother wrong, and in this she had succeeded very well. Angela could ride Blaze as well as any of the stable hands, and the horse would not be touched by anybody else. It was his beloved little mistress that tended to his needs, and groomed and fed him with unwavering patience. Robert was proud of his daughter's determination and responsible behaviour, and even Julianne now allowed her total freedom when she was with her horse.

A sudden noise startled her out of her silent companionship with her horse. Phillip came rushing into the stable, as fast as his little legs could carry him, breathless from the exercise. "What is it Phil?" she asked of her brother, rather annoyed at being interrupted in her daily routine.

"Mamma is looking all over for you," replied Phillip as soon as he regained his breath. "She wants to speak to you."

Angela groaned and rolled her eyes. The stables were her own sanctuary, and her parents ought to know better than to interrupt her when she was grooming Blaze. This had better be important, she thought. Though, to own the truth, she had a feeling in her stomach that she was not going to like what she was about to hear.

"WHAT???? The whole summer? Here?!" gasped Angela indignantly. "Don't they have a home of their own?"

"Angie!" scolded her father. "We already explained to you how things are. Surely it will be nice for you and Phillip to have other children to play with," he added, trying to sound convincing.

Angela stuck her chin out haughtily. "I'm eight years old now! I don't need anyone to play with!" she protested angrily.

Her parents looked at each other, and Julianne quickly raised her teacup to her mouth, in a successful attempt to hide her smile. "Ben is ten years old, so he might agree with you on that, right?" she asked slyly. There was no answer. "That means that you will find ways to enjoy yourself without resorting to playing. Isn't that possible, Angie?"

Her daughter, caught off guard for a second, huffed and turned her face away. Phil looked at her cautiously; he was rather afraid of his big sister and her sudden outbursts. However, he need not have worried, for, all of a sudden, Angie decided to grace her parents with a wide, innocent smile which seemed to startle them more than any eventual protest. "I'll be good Mother," she said demurely. "I'll make sure that Benjamin and his sisters pass an enjoyable summer."

Julianne and Robert stared at her, mouths slightly open, while Phil gave a knowing groan. When Angela turned to her sickly sweet smiles, it meant big trouble. Further confirmation of his fears came when she turned to him, and gave him a sly, crafty wink.

It wasn't as if she hated Ben and his sisters an awful lot, but the idea of them ruining her perfectly planned summer with her most beloved family (Phillip included), did not quite attract her. There was nothing else to do...those kids had to go.

The carriage arrived three days later, in the late hours of the evening. Angela went out with her brother and parents to greet the visitors, though to her they were as welcome as a cat usually is in a mouse-hole. However she kept any misgivings to herself, and plastered a fake smile, which immediately disappeared when she saw Julianne's disapproving glance at her dress.

"Angie, couldn't you have worn something more suitable to greet our guests?" she asked reprovingly.

Angela looked down at her old dress. It was one of those she always used to go riding and though it was comfortable and suited her well, it had definitely seen better days. "Well, Mamma, I was riding, what do you expect me to wear?" she asked sullenly.

"And what were you doing riding on the day our guests were to arrive?" hissed her mother.

Angela scowled. "The world is not expected to end because of Ben Darcy and his sisters," she muttered, though she didn't quite dare to say that aloud. However, her expression did not change, and the first thing an exhausted Ben saw as he was helped out of the carriage by the servant that had accompanied the children was a vicious glare that was wholly and unashamedly directed to him.

He greeted his aunt and uncle politely, who seeing how exhausted he was, asked him if he would just like to go to bed. Ben readily assented, as he could hardly keep his eyes open.

Clara and Jenny had fallen asleep in the few hours preceding their arrival and Julianne and Robert decided not to wake them up, but to carry them immediately to their bedroom. The twin that Julianne was carrying stirred. "Mamma?" she whispered sleepily.

"No dear, it's Aunt Julianne," replied her aunt, kissing her lovingly on the cheek. "Angie, could you please show Benjamin to his bedroom please? It's the one adjacent to the girls'." Phillip, sensing that something was about to go wrong, fled, holding to his mother's dress for dear life.

Angela smiled her assent, but as soon as her parents were safely out of hearing, she turned towards the rather lost Ben, her blue eyes narrowed down to slits. "Can't your sisters walk on their own?" she demanded jealously.

"They fell asleep in the carriage," he replied lamely, rather taken aback by the girl's angry tone.

"You don't expect me to carry you up as well, do you?" she goaded.

Ben gritted his teeth. He hated Angela Darcy already. "Of course not," he replied scornfully. "Can you just take me to my room now?"

Angie huffed and led him up the stairs. "You room is next to your sisters', but unfortunately it's also next to mine," she announced haughtily as they came to the door. "So don't stay crying at night, for I'll hear you!"

Ben glared at her and went straight in his room, slamming the door behind him. He hated that stuck-up girl! His eyes traveled around the room, and took it all in. It was luxurious and comfortable, but it was not Pemberley. Nothing here was Pemberley. He desperately tried to keep such thoughts away, for fear that he would just crumple up and cry. Never shall it be known that Angela was right! However, he needn't have really worried for any other feelings related to homesickness were startled away by loud noises coming from the girl's bedroom. Angela was preparing herself to go to bed, he surmised, and by the noise she was making in banging drawers and doors, she was making sure that the whole of Haydon knew it. Ben opened his trunks, and searched for his nightclothes, deciding to unpack the following day. He was in a very bad humour by now, and closed the largest suitcase with a large bang, which seemed to reverberate loudly in the suddenly silent house.

A window opened and a shrill voice could be heard in the darkness. "Benjamin Darcy!"

Ben sighed. Angie. He went slowly to his own window and stuck his head out, looking defiantly at the outline of the girl's head, whose features were totally unfathomable in the darkness. "What do you want?" he asked with an impatient sigh.

"Don't make so much noise! I'm trying to go to sleep!"

Ben almost gasped. The cheek of that girl was incredible! "Well, what about you?" he retaliated.

"This is my house, I can do whatever I like!"

Count till ten Benjamin...one number after the other, no! ten does not come after three...count them all!

"I'm sorry Miss Darcy," he said with exaggerated politeness. There! His father would be proud!

Why is the picture of me throwing Angie out of the window so much more appealing?

"You should be," was her answer and the head disappeared.

Ben left the window and undressed slowly, trying to calm himself down. Before throwing himself on the inviting bed, he walked to the connecting door, and opened it slowly to check if his sisters were still asleep after that row. He was not often caught by any fraternal instincts, but these were difficult times after all. And anyway, Clara and Jenny did look cute when they were asleep, he admitted to himself with a small smile. Clara curled herself into a cocoon made of sheets and blankets, while Jenny built a fortress of pillows all around herself; and their brother had to admit that they both looked really lovable...and harmless. Every time he saw them asleep, Ben grudgingly felt something akin to affection, though he would never admit to anyone. Still, he wished that they slept more often.

After ascertaining that the twins had not been woken up, he went back to his room and threw himself on the soft mattress. Before he drifted off into a deep sleep he thought of his home, and his parents, and wondered if they were missing him.

How much would it cost me to go to Europe? Or maybe I should just write them both a letter begging them to come back soon.

This was his last coherent thought before the morning of the following day.

Angela tucked herself in bed and reached out for a small book that was safely hidden in the drawer of her bedside table. It was time for her to write about the adventures of her own heroine, Angelica Darby. In fact, Angela, had her own secret ambition, that of being a writer when she grew up... However, it had been some time since she had last written any more of her future novel, to be exact, since the scolding she had received for dropping a whole inkwell on her bed-sheets, She brought out the inkwell now, hoping that her mother would not notice any eventual ink-spots on the white linen. After the events of the day she was now fully determined to continue writing Angelica's adventures and was resolute in taking great pains to make sure that no such unfortunate incidents occurred.

She dipped the pen and began writing on the blank paper with surprising promptness.

Angelica met Benedict today as he came to visit her family at Halton Manor. He is an arrogant, odious boy with dark curly hair flying all over the place and two very stupid sisters, Claire and Jessie. Angelica hated Benedict and promised herself to send him back home as soon as possible. The only nice thing about Benedict are his fine black eyes.

Angela looked at this last sentence with disgust and amazement, and looked guiltily around, as if expecting someone to pounce on her for writing such a terrible thing. She dipped the pen once again in the inkwell, and quickly crossed it off. Fine black eyes indeed!!! What was she thinking?!

Part 1 Chapter 3

Posted on Monday, 11 September 2000

Ben was woken up early the next morning by a loud noise in his sisters' room. He sat up groggily and crawled, with great difficulty, out of bed. He opened the connecting door and found that one of his sisters, in her attempt to put on her dress all by herself, had managed to bump into the dressing table, causing all the brushes, scent bottles and all the other accessories to fall off with a crash. The twins were staring sheepishly at the mess, and one of them gave small sob.

"Good work Jenny," said Ben sarcastically. "Now clear that mess up!" He could not deny it; ordering his sisters about was one of the things that gave him the most pleasure. He was too sleepy to even care remotely about the damage, so he slammed the door behind him to let them manage it by themselves.

One of the twins was still sobbing when her sister put her arms around her to comfort her. "There, there Clara," said Jenny softly. "It was an accident. All we have to do is pick everything up."

"T-thank you for taking the blame, Jenny," sobbed Clara.

Jenny shrugged and smiled at her. "It shall never be known that Maria Clara Darcy was sobbing in front of her sister," she promised. "Just be more careful next time, I can't take the blame for everything!"

Clara looked at her sister in astonishment. Jennifer was the most generous person she had ever known, and it was in such rare moments that she found herself feeling guilty for lording all over her all the time. But as usually happened, any remorse gave way to more practical approaches to life, as she picked up all the things she managed to drop and put them back meticulously in the same order they were in before.

Back in his own room, Ben waited for subsequent wails that, surprisingly, didn't come and so rightly assumed that no serious damage had in reality been caused.

The boy opened the window, and inhaled the fresh air, feeling more refreshed and cheerful that he had been in the last few days of traveling. He had to admit that the grounds of Haydon were very beautiful, and since they were just near the borderline that divided England from Scotland, the landscape did have a lot in common with that found in the Highlands. As Ben's eyes traveled downwards to the land surrounding the manor itself, he realized guiltily that the entire household except for them was awake, including, unfortunately, the little Miss herself.

In fact, Angie was up and about, running merrily here and there with an elderly man, whom Ben guessed to be the gardener. She was holding a kitten in her hand, and from the amused expression on the man's face, she seemed to be incessantly asking questions, without even waiting for her curiosity to be satisfied. Ben noted with surprise the smile that graced her face and could not help wondering why she had been so hostile the night before.

She looks quite pretty when smiles.

Benjamin shook his head in disgust. Haughty, rude Angela Darcy...pretty?

The girl seemed to sense that she was being observed and looked up, her smile immediately disappearing from her face. Seeing the glare that was becoming so familiar with him, the boy immediately stepped back to hide his amused grin. "Glad to see the wicked witch back again," he said to no one in particular. Angela hated him, and though Ben had no idea why, he was certainly not going to do anything about it.

He dressed himself quickly and hurried down to the breakfast room, feeling completely starved, with Clara leading the way confidently, walking through the corridors as she were back at Pemberley while Jenny lagging dutifully behind them. They found their uncle and aunt already at the table, welcoming them with a large smile.

"Good morning," chorused the twins, while Ben just smiled shyly and sat down.

"I hope you slept well," began Julianne, anxiously. "I know I'd feel uncomfortable in a strange house without my parents with me."

The mention of Darcy and Elizabeth caused Jenny to make a sound which Ben suspected to be a sniffle, so he hastened to give her a hard kick under the table. "I slept like a log, Aunt Julianne," he said loudly, hoping to distract their attention from Jenny's grimace and consequent glare.

"Did you feel hot?" asked Robert curiously. "I thought I heard you opening the window," he explained, as he saw the boy's blank stare.

I wasn't feeling hot, you daughter was just being hateful!

"Yes it was quite warm, wasn't it?" he replied politely.

"Of course it was Ben, it's the beginning of July," added Clara helpfully.

"Thank you Clara, that fact had quite escaped my notice," replied her brother sarcastically.

Angela and Phillip entered that moment, and Ben steeled himself against another warlike assault. However, the girl ignored their presence and just talked to her parents, while the boy gave them a shy smile, before looking down at his teacup for the rest of the meal.

All right, let us just consider the situation here, Ben. I think the kid is harmless. But the witch-sister has to be eliminated!

Ben listened to himself incredulously. Had he just said the word "eliminated" in his mind? Why is it that he thought these long words, but never managed to pronounce them?

"Ben? Ben? Are you with us, lad?" asked his uncle, amused.

Ben literally jumped in his chair. He really had to stop this maddening habit of his of analysing all that passed through his mind. "What? Oh yes of course! I mean, no, not really," admitted the boy, wholly unable to lie.

"Your aunt and I were suggesting that maybe you and Angie could go for a little ride round the hills," explained Robert encouragingly.

Ben glanced at Angela and could hardly keep himself for bursting out laughing. The look on the girl's face was priceless...she looked...appalled! "I would like that very much, Uncle Robert," he answered with a wide smile. "I'm sure Angie and I will just have a wonderful time! Don't you agree Angie?"

"I - well, I ... guess."

"Very good then! It is all settled," exclaimed Julianne as she sat up. "Your uncle and I will leave you children to your breakfast, then I will come up to your rooms to help you unpack."

The twins smiled their assent and continued to munch hungrily on their toast as Julianne and Robert left the room, while Angela banged her napkin angrily on the table and folded her arms, staring menacingly at Ben. "What is your game, Benjamin?" she asked menacingly.

"No game, Angie. I just fancy a ride," he replied smoothly munching his bit of toast with irritating slowness.

Ben could have sworn that the girl was shaking with rage. And in fact, Angela could not trust herself to face the hateful boy that sat in front of her. The twins, who had not yet witnessed any hostility from the girl's side, just stood looking at them both uneasily. Phillip was giving her pleading glances, which she chose to ignore. She turned to face the twins, looking at them in distaste.

"It must be so awful to be so alike all the time," she remarked airily.

The girls gaped at her. "No, it's not," replied Clara rather surprised.

"Does anyone ever manage to tell you apart?"

"It's the easiest thing in the world, if you look at them carefully," replied Ben rather rashly, conveniently forgetting that no one except his mother and father could tell them apart, and that he would have no chance to do so had Jenny not the uncanny ability to keep crying for most of the day.

Angela smiled at him triumphantly. "And do people care enough to do so?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Oh shut up, you horrible, girl!" cried Ben, finally losing his temper completely. Only he could make fun of his sisters, and certainly not her!

"BEN!" chastised Jenny. She knew well enough that when Ben lost it, he could turn vicious.

"Stay out of it Jenny!" retorted her brother. "Angela has been odious and completely horrid since our arrival. This stupid spoiled brat deserves a lesson!"

Just at that moment, Julianne entered the room to see if the children were still eating, and from the hurt expression in her face it was evident that she had heard all of Ben's tirade against her daughter. Angela flushed bright red with embarrassment and, unable to look in her mother's eyes, rushed out of the room. The twins and Phillip looked at each other, afraid for Ben's sake, while the accused himself looked stricken. "Oh Ben," sighed Julianne, looking at him sadly, "I was so scared this would happen."

"I'm so sorry Auntie Ju," he replied, wishing once more that his pride would let him burst into tears. "I didn't mean it, I mean I did, but - it was cruel especially since --" He realized he was stuttering almost incoherently and stopped abruptly.

"Since what?" asked Julianne, curious to see what the boy had to say.

"I mean you're her mother and it must have been very bad for you to hear me say that Angela is a spoiled brat, I mean...you know...I mean you like her and all," he explained lamely.

Julianne gave him a sad smile. "Of course I like Angela. I love her very much, she's my daughter and it pains me to see that you seem to dislike her so."

"I'm sorry," he whispered once more.

"Ben I need to talk to you for a minute," she finally said, after a few moments of silence. Julianne then looked at the other children, who had sat in an absolute hush throughout this exchange. "Jenny, Clara, go up to your room and start unpacking. Phillip can come with you and help. I'll be up in a few minutes."

The twins went out quickly, but not before Jenny had given her brother's hand a reassuring squeeze. Ben watched them leave, for once wishing that he could just be in his sisters company, especially since he was feeling distinctly uncomfortable under the close scrutiny of the mother of the "witch-sister".

"Benjamin, Angela is not the horrible girl you think she is," began Julianne slowly, as she and the boy sat on a bench in the garden.

"But Auntie Ju, why does she hate me so much?" he demanded puzzled.

"She doesn't hate you and neither the twins for that matter," she replied patiently. "Your uncle and I were hoping that this would not happen, but it did."

"What do you mean?" asked Ben, still in the dark.

"You have to know Angie a bit better to understand her, but you must realize that she is just very much afraid of you ... and even more so of your sisters."

"Afraid?" Angela...afraid of him? "Why? And of what?"

"It was the same story when Phillip was born. She was absolutely horrible to him when he was still a baby. She is scared that you will take away the people she loves most of all, be it me and her father, or even her pets! Angie is afraid that the life she is used to will be completely changed by your presence at Haydon." Ben was silent as he contemplated all that his aunt had told him. He hated to admit it, but it did make sense. "Do you understand now why Angie was so horrid with you?" prodded Julianne, gently.

"Yes. I do," he whispered to her surprise and pleasure. "Because when Papa said that we were to come here, I thought that he and mamma wanted to get rid of us and it made me feel bad to know that there was something more important for them than me," he admitted sadly. It was good to get it finally off his chest, though he wasn't so sure why he was telling his aunt either.

Julianne put her arm round him and pulled him near tenderly. "There is nothing more important for your parents than you and your sisters, you silly boy," she said, smiling reassuringly at him. "And I think that both you and Angela have to realize that," she added thoughtfully.

"Aunt Julianne?"

"Yes Ben?"

"Are you going to tell Angie that yourself?"

"I think I should," she replied honestly. "My daughter seems to doubt my affections for her."

"Can I tell her what you told me myself?" Julianne looked puzzled at this so Ben hastened to explain. "I think I want to be friends with Angela," he said, "because we seem to think alike."

"Yes I think you do," she remarked, looking very pleased.

"I think that if I tell her what you said, she will forgive me for coming here," he added.

Julianne agreed and it was settled that Ben had to go and speak to Angela, and reassure her about his harmless presence in her family. Ben left his aunt in search of the girl, feeling rather pleased with himself, and also rather eager to made friends with her, realizing that, after all, Miss Darcy might not be so awful after all.

Part 1 Chapter 4

Posted on Saturday, 16 September 2000

After discussing Angela's odiousness with his aunt, Ben discovered that any ill feeling from her part was only the result of the girl's fear of fairing unfavourably in comparison to him and the twins, and thus, he felt very guilty for his previous outburst. Also, he was absolutely determined to make up and in this way alleviate her jealousy and consequent hostility. Deep down, he also hoped that he and Miss Darcy would become friends, as he had grudgingly started to admit that he admired the girl's spunk and could, to a great extent, fully comprehend her resentment. He couldn't deny that she had certainly defended her "territory" very well, especially for a girl!

Thus, wisely fortified with a repentant heart, a wide, friendly smile, and a newly baked plum-bun wrapped neatly in his cleanest handkerchief (the result of a particularly inspired brainwave as he passed near the kitchens), he walked around the house, until he was told by one of the under-gardeners that the little Missie had gone up to the "Great Oak", which left the boy more in the dark than ever. Following their directions however, Ben found himself going up a sloping lane leading to a large oak tree that stood majestically alone on a hill, and from which one could get a full view of the Manor and a large part of the estate. He breathed in the fresh air and contemplated the sight before him for a few minutes before actually noticing that Angela was nowhere to be seen.

"Miss Darcy?" he called politely. Angela didn't quite seem a "Miss Darcy" but for the sake of appearing a proper gentleman, he was ready to overlook that unfortunate reality.

"Go away." Said an angry voice from somewhere above him.

Ben looked up to see Angela comfortably perched on a wide bough, looking down at him, and giving him the look he had so quickly grown accustomed too. Her blue eyes were also red however and her voice was a tad unsteady, and the knowledge that he had made the girl cry augmented his remorse even further, even though he never bothered that much when that happened with one of his sisters. He gathered some courage and inhaled some air. "I came to say I'm sorry," he said finally.

Angela looked visibly surprised at this. "Thanks," she said abruptly. "Now go away."

Ben didn't exactly know what he expected, but at that moment he found himself a little taken aback. "You don't seem to have forgiven me yet," he said, still not quite aware of his habit of stating the obvious, "can I come up the tree?"

"No."

"I will anyway," he said, already half way up. He made his way to the branch on which she was sitting, but since Angela made no move to make him space, he had to be satisfied with sitting on a lower, thinner one, which creaked rather dangerously under his own weight. "I got you a bun," he said, looking extremely pleased with himself as he stretched up to hand her the wrapped package.

"I've just had breakfast, thank you very much," the girl replied, coolly. Although her mother and her Uncle Jeremy were well endowed with the forgiving spirit all the Philipses seemed to share, Angela seemed to have balanced the lack of physical resemblance from the Darcy side by a distinct stubborn attitude, obviously inherited from her father's lineage.

Ben however, was equally resolute and would just not give in, even though his staunchness was now more dictated by spite than by an honest sentiment of reconciliation. "It's a plum-bun," he insisted, knowing fully well, from subtle investigation in the Haydon kitchen, that the little Miss had a particular partiality for the sweet.

Angela hesitated, and then, after hearing a loud creak from the branch on which Ben was perched, moved suddenly on her sturdier branch to make some space for him. He climbed near her readily, and the two children sat for a short moment, saying nothing, but dangling their feet in embarrassment.

"Can I have the bun now please?" She asked in a very low whisper.

The boy was startled at her tone, which seemed so uncharacteristic to its possessor and gave her the bun without a word. Angela unwrapped it slowly and then looked at him in surprise. "It's nibbled!" she said in disgust.

"So? I had a taste on my way here, it's very good," Ben replied honestly.

Angela stared at him, and then at the nibbled roll, and silently divided it into half. "Here, have a little bit," she offered, though she couldn't fathom why.

Ben was stunned. "Are you sure?"

The girl suddenly recollected herself and gave him a haughty look. "You should eat it before I change my mind," she said coldly. He pulled a face at her and once again they stayed for some minutes in silence, finding a good excuse for doing so in munching the bun as slowly as possible.

Finally, Ben broke the hush that had fallen. "I know why you hate me," he began smugly.

"I don't - oh really? Pray, do tell!" she replied sarcastically.

"It's stupid really," he explained patiently. "You're scared that I, or Jenny and Clara for that matter, will take away your parents. It's ridic...erm..."

"Ridiculous?" asked Angela incredulously.

"Yes that! Ri-di-cu-lous," he repeated slowly, delighted with his sudden mastering of the language. "I mean, don't be silly! Why would we want Uncle Robert and Aunt Julianne, when we have Mamma and Papa?" Angela looked offended by this logical remark, so Ben hastened to explain himself. "What I mean is, that the twins and I have parents already, and we don't really need yours, though," he added quickly, "they are very nice too!"

The girl stared at him for a moment, and then turned her face away. "Honest?" she asked.

"Of course!" exclaimed Ben. "And really, it's not very easy for us to be here at Haydon for a month without our parents," he continued, rather reproachfully.

"What you mean is that I haven't been helping much, isn't it?" muttered Angela, averting her face while the boy nodded vigorously.

The silence that followed nettled Ben. In all the rehearsed, mental conversations he had had with Angela on his way to the spot where he had met her, now was always the time when she had to apologise for the all the unnecessary trouble she had given him and his sisters, and yet the girl had offered no apology, but was just staring thoughtfully in space.

"Ben?" she began suddenly.

"What?"

"Would you still like to go for a ride?" she asked him, to his surprise.

He smiled happily at her. "Of course!" he replied enthusiastically.

"All right then," she said, appearing nonchalant, "let's go."

With some difficulty, Ben began the rather hazardous descent down the tree. As he reached a particularly tricky spot, he remembered the girl and graciously thought about offering her some help. "Careful," he cautioned, "I think you should take my - OW!" The last word of his generous offer was lost when he lost his footing and tumbled down the remaining short distance, landing rather painfully on his backside.

"I say, you really are stupid!" exclaimed Angela as she stood before him, looking at the blushing boy in astonishment.

"Help me up, will you!" Ben was finding this humiliating experience rather hard to bear, and refused to look at Angela's face, missing a rather affectionate look directed towards him. The girl didn't really know why, but her heart couldn't help warming to this gallant, if somewhat clumsy boy. She took his hand in hers and yanked him up, hastening to change the subject.

"Do you have a horse of your own at Pemberley?" she asked, as they walked down to the stables.

"No. I ride almost all the horses there, but I don't have one to call my own," he replied. Ben was conscious of the fact that they were still holding hands, and though he surmised that Angela had absent-mindedly forgotten to let go, he didn't particularly mind the situation.

"It's a bit of a pity, isn't it?" continued the girl, giving his hand a sympathetic little squeeze.

So she had left her hand there on purpose! thought Ben, not knowing that his grin had grown visibly wider with that small gesture. Angela didn't seem to expect an answer, so in that fashion, and with a comfortable silence, they reached the stables.

"He is beautiful Angie, really beautiful," said Ben in awe, as he stroked the friendly Blaze.

"Yes he is," replied the girl proudly, as she gave her beloved horse a hug. Ben looked longingly at the horse, wondering how he could convince his parents to get him one for his birthday, and also imagining how grand he would look riding such a steed. "Do you know how to ride? You know...really well?" asked Angie, who had not missed the gaze with which her new "friend" was still regarding Blaze.

"Yes, I do," he replied, without resorting to any false modesty.

"You can ride Blaze if you want," blurted out Angie before she could stop herself.

Ben looked at her, stunned. "What?? Are you serious?" The girl shrugged and looked away, feeling rather pleased with the brightening of his countenance brought about by her offer. "Are you sure?" he insisted.

"Yes!" she said rather impatiently. This situation was beginning to resemble the plum-bun incident. Why didn't people believe that her offers were genuine? She shrugged. "This is my way of saying sorry," she admitted grudgingly.

"If you weren't a girl, I think I'd hug you!" he confessed happily.

"Don't you dare!" was the girl's reply. She walked about in the stables, surprised to see that none of the usual horses seemed to be available. "I wonder where papa's horse is," she wondered aloud. "He is sure to let me ride him." At that same moment, a young man entered the stables, and he seemed surprised to see the two children there together.

"Missie? What are you doing here?" he asked good-naturedly.

Angela squealed with happiness and flung herself on the young man, hopping merrily. "Oh Bill! Good morning! How are you? How is the baby? Can I ride Papa's horse? Do you know where he is? Oh I'm so glad to see you!"

This mercenary, opportunistic side of this display of affection was not lost on the stable hand, but, like all the other employees at Haydon, he had a soft spot for "Missie" and he felt sorry that he was going to break her little heart. "I'm so sorry Miss Darcy," he answered. "But the Master needed his horse to go to Stanhope to meet his solicitor, and all the other horses were needed in the fields."

"Oh no!" groaned the disappointed girl. She looked out to a fenced spot of land near the stables, where an unfamiliar horse lay grazing. "What about that one, there?" she insisted, pointing at the animal.

Bill shook his head. "Oh no Missie, you can not ride that horse for now. I've have just got him now from the village, and he is a young'un...not yet broken." With an apologetic smile, he left the stables, obviously to carry out another of his tasks at the estate.

Angela stared after him blankly, before turning her gaze to Ben. "Have you any idea what he was talking about?" she asked confused.

Ben shook his head slowly. "Why should a horse be broken? Surely you cannot ride a smashed mount!"

Angela moved quickly to Blaze and examined him thoroughly. "He doesn't look broken to me," she said thoughtfully. "Well, never mind! Take Blaze out while I go get that new one from that field!"

Ben had hardly time to lead Blaze out of his stall before he heard a loud scream and a large commotion from outside. He rushed out to see Angela lying on the ground, screaming in terror as the young horse stamped and trampled her with his hoofs. The boy rushed to the field and grabbing her hand, yanked the bruised Angie away. The horse knocked down part of the fence and galloped away in the hills with all the stable hands in sudden pursuit. Just at that moment, Robert came riding to the house, while Julianne, who had presumably noticed the confusion ran to her sobbing, trembling daughter, who was still clutching the equally frightened Ben. "I think I know what 'unbroken' is, Benjamin," whispered Angela.

Before he could answer Julianne came up and hugged her daughter, while Robert stormed angrily towards the little group. "You silly, thoughtless girl!" he yelled. "You could have been killed!"

He raised up his hand to slap her but his wife caught it in mid-air. "Robert! Can't you see she's terrified?" she lashed.

Angela was deadly pale as she looked at her furious father, and was unable to do anything other than cower and tremble in her mother's arms. She had never seen her papa so angry before, and indeed, Robert was usually an easy, indulgent parent but the shock of seeing his beloved daughter under the hoofs of an enraged animal clouded all his good judgment and common sense. "Indeed she has reason to be terrified!" he stormed menacingly. "After I'm done with Bill, I'll deal with that foolish daughter of yours accordingly!"

"Oh no!" blurted out the poor girl before she could help herself, "you're not going to fire him Papa, are you? His wife has just had a baby!"

"Don't trifle with my patience, Angie," said Robert in a low dangerous tone, which did not manifest itself often, but which even his bold wife dreaded.

Ben could contain himself no longer. "It was my fault Uncle Robert! It was a dare, I told her to ride that new horse! I forced her to do so," he lied desperately.

Robert turned his gaze slowly towards the son of his cousin, not really knowing how to react. "Flee to your room," he ordered, leaving no space for argument. "We'll have a talk later."

Ben did not need to be told twice and fled immediately, absolutely terrified of his uncle's temper but, at the same time, convinced that he had done the right thing, especially when he turned round, and saw Angie's adoring gaze directed towards him.

Part 1 Chapter 5

Posted on Friday, 22 September 2000

Ben threw himself down on the bed as he waited fearfully for his uncle to come up to his room to have "the talk". The boy had never seen anyone so angry before, and was absolutely sure that he was in for a good beating, a prospect that he was not quite looking forward to.

Better me than Angie, he thought with a sigh, as her terrified face came into his mind. He dreaded to think what her father might have done to her, had he not taken the blame; though, he added to himself sadly, he was to know very soon. Uncle Robert had always given him the impression of being a very easy, amiable man and his reaction had been quite a shock. Ben wondered if he was maybe one of those people who rarely lost their temper, but when they did they made up for any past negligence. Come to think of it, his Uncle Bingley was like that too. In the course of all those years in which he had been a frequent visitor at Linton Hall, he had only seen his uncle get angry once, and it was James who had borne the brunt of his father's rage. His Papa was not like that, he reflected, and although he scolded him quite often, his anger was handed out in "smaller doses". The boy had to admit to himself that after this afternoon, he would probably be quite willing to have a daily reprimand instead of facing such ire as that which he was about to witness!

"I wonder how long it will take me to be able to sit down again," he said out loud, even managing to smile at the mental picture of himself after his uncle's thrashing. He was remarkably able to find an amusing side to all kind of catastrophes, and with a little laugh even managed to steel himself against the very worst.

He had been in his room for almost an hour now, and to his bemusement, there was no sign of his uncle. Was he trying to calm down before coming up to his room? Ben earnestly hoped so, but it was getting to be rather boring on his own up there. If things had to be settled, he'd rather confront Uncle Robert and get it done with. The summer heat, as well as the tediousness of the time he spent alone made him sleepy and as he was settling down for a little nap, he held the voice of his sisters calling out for him from outside.

"BeeeeEEEN! BEEENNY! We know you're locked in your room, come out and talk to us!" cried a scornful voice.

Ben scowled and put his head out of the window. "What do you want?" he snapped.

One of his sisters stared at him, looking like a martyr with her hands clasped in front of her, and a pained look in her eyes as she gazed at her big brother. "Are you lonely up there? Would you like me to bring you something to eat?" she asked anxiously.

The boy's expression softened into a grateful smile. "No, thanks Jenny, but it's very nice of you to offer," he replied gently.

"Can you keep the window open while Uncle Robert is beating you up?" asked Clara immediately afterwards. "It will be really fun to hear scream and howl," she added, rather heartlessly.

Her brother gritted his teeth and glared at her in anger. "Just you wait, Clara," he called out in warning, "as soon as I'm out of here I'll slap you silly!"

Clara made a face at him. "You can't touch me," she goaded unmercifully. "Mamma and Papa always say that a real gentleman never hits a woman, so there!"

"You're not a woman, you're just a --!" Never more in his life did he wish to be able to use that delightfully rude epithet James Bingley had taught him some years before. However, he was already in his uncle's bad books, and yelling vulgar names from the window would certainly not help regain his favour. So, with a great effort, he let matters go, and very soon his sisters walked off, Jenny waving apologetically and Clara sticking out her tongue at him.

Just as he was closing the window, the one next to him opened, and the tear stained face of Angela popped out quickly. "Ben, are you still at the window?" she whispered almost frantically.

"Yes yes I'm here," he replied soothingly. "What have you been up to so far?" he asked, wondering what had happened after his retreat from the stables.

Angela looked down and brushed away a tear. "Thank you for taking the blame back then," she began tearfully, "it was very generous of you," she added.

"Don't mention it. It was a pleasure," he replied gallantly. It hadn't been a pleasure -- far from it -- especially now that he was awaiting his sentence, but he didn't want the girl to feel guilty.

"However, I owned up as soon as you left," she continued. "It was too bad for you to be punished for something that was my fault. I shouldn't have tried to ride that horse, and I caused a lot of trouble, and therefore I deserve all that I got for punishment."

These penitent words were not lost on Ben, and they seemed so honourable that he suspected, correctly, that she was probably quoting her father, on this subject. However, the girl was still not finished from her apologetic speech. "Anyway, Papa should be coming to your room any minute now. He said that he wanted to apologize for being so angry with you back near the stables."

An apology from his uncle, however, was not foremost in Ben's mind. "Was he hard on you?" he asked anxiously. "Did he spank you?" When he sighed in relief on seeing Angie shake her head, he realized that he had been holding his breath in apprehension.

"No, he didn't," replied the girl. "He did yell a lot though."

"I didn't hear anything," replied Ben in some surprise. The walls weren't so thick as to block out the shouts of an enraged father.

"He did all the yelling by the stables, by the time we got here he seemed to have calmed down," explained Angela, and then sighed. "Poor papa, I never saw him so angry! He got all red in the face, and I was really scared he would have a heart attack or something!"

The boy couldn't help grinning. The probability of his thirty-three year old uncle having a heart attack because of his daughter seemed rather remote. Angie found his smile contagious and returned it with one of her own. "Mama would have been rather angry with me if Papa had had a fit don't you think?" she added, chuckling slightly, forgetting the penitent speech of two minutes before.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Ben phrased out what was still the major thought in his mind. "Did Uncle Robert punish you?" he asked anxiously.

Angie propped her face in her hands and looked ahead of her, at the tree on which they had been sitting down almost two hours before, and sighed loudly. "He said that I am to spend the rest of my life in my room, isn't that crazy?"

"Do you think he really meant it?" demanded the boy, rather incredulously.

"Believe me, I didn't dare ask him that! But isn't it awful? How will I spend the time in here?" wailed Angela. "I've been here for only half an hour, and I'm bored stiff! There's nothing to do in a bedroom!"

Ben had to agree with that. "How did you pass the time so far?" he asked curiously. He suspected that any ideas from her part upon this subject would certainly be profitable to him in a not so remote future.

The girl mulled the question over. "Well...I brushed my hair - a lot - I looked at myself in the mirror - a bit - and tried to count the cracks on the ceiling, only I remembered that Papa had my room redecorated just last winter!" she complained. Angie didn't tell Ben that she had also completed her novel in the meantime, though it hadn't taken her that long to formulate the conclusion.

Angelica was ordered by her father to spend the rest of her life in her bedroom, so now she can't go to Bath and break the heart of many suitors.

FINIS

It wasn't really the sort of abrupt conclusion she would have liked for her tale, which still lacked a name. However it seemed as if the fates had turned against her most beloved heroine, just as she stopped wanting to find ways of getting rid of Benedict, particularly now that he had become a prospective hero. However, there was nothing to do, her Papa had managed to shatter her life long ambition.

"I'm sorry Angela," said Ben in honest sympathy. "But if you want I'll try to convince Uncle to let you out earlier."

"Can you try and convince him to free me at least on my eighteenth birthday?" she pleaded.

"I'll do my best, I promise."

So much were the two children intent on their conversation, that they didn't hear the door of Ben's room open. Robert walked leisurely to the window, giving a big fright to the boy, and a split second chance to the girl to escape.

"Uncle Robert! I nearly fell off the window!" reproached Ben.

Robert gave him a small pat on the back. "Sorry son," he replied in his usual friendly tones. Then he stuck his head out of the window and called out for his daughter, without receiving an immediate answer. "Angie, come to window, I won't bite, I promise," he cajoled.

A blue eye, and a tip of a nose were suddenly visible. "I was contemplating what you told me, Papa," fibbed his daughter, sounding surprisingly truthful. "I agree with you," she added demurely, "I really am a naughty girl."

Robert rolled his eyes in disbelief, and tried to keep his face straight. "Mamma is coming to talk to you, I hope you haven't made a mess in your room," he cautioned trying his best to appear stern.

"Of course not, Papa, now I'll just sit down and wait for Mamma to come," she replied in a soft sedate voice.

Robert moved away from the window and closed it behind him. "Angie's hair did seem unnaturally shiny, didn't it?" he asked of Ben.

"She brushed it a lot in this last half hour, Sir," replied Ben by means of an explanation.

His uncle nodded and stood for some moments in silence in front of him. "I'm sorry for that spectacle outside," he said suddenly.

"Uncle, you don't have to apologise to me."

"Yes I do," replied Robert. "Even if you're just a boy, and you're under my responsibility, I still owe you an apology if I behave unfairly towards you."

Ben gave him a small smile. "You did look a bit scary," he admitted. He could have sworn that his uncle looked also a little pleased with himself. Robert Darcy probably didn't assert his authority very often in the household, especially with two rather hardheaded females who refused to obey without dispute.

"I can assure you, Benjamin," Robert said, "that this sort of outburst doesn't happen much at Haydon."

Just as you suspected!
Yes! Am I good or am I better?

"I'm sure of it, Uncle. You are a very nice chap ... fellow ... erm, Sir!" replied Ben incoherently.

You're certainly the best at blundering even the simplest of phrases!

"But," he continued, "is Angie really going to spend the rest of her life in her room?"

Robert looked surprised. "Did I tell her that?" he asked, completely confused.

Ben nodded solemnly. "She is rather bored," he confided seriously.

His uncle grinned widely. "I certainly cannot blame her," he admitted. "But she has to be punished, she could have got herself killed by that horse!"

"But Uncle, why are you punishing her for not dying? Shouldn't you be happy?" asked the boy innocently.

Robert paused for a moment to mull that over. "Yes, you are right in a way," he conceded. "But Angie has to learn that she can't scare the hell --" Ben's eyebrows shot up. " - the life! out of me every time she feels like it! Can you understand that?"

The boy nodded, but looked dubious. "I'm not too sure," he whispered cautiously, not really trusting his uncle's temper.

Robert stood up to go, and looked at the boy affectionately. "When you have children of your own, you'll know exactly what I mean, lad," he assured him.

Ben threw himself back on the bed in a sign of resignation. "To be honest, I think it's a bit of hassle to stay punishing children, don't you think?" he asked with a mischievous smile. "I'll just stand back and leave that to my wife!"

"You're young, Ben, but you're smart, I'll give you that!" answered his uncle with a wink. He opened the door and looked back at him. "You can go join Phillip and your sisters anytime you want," he offered.

Ben looked at him apologetically. "What about Angie?"

Robert lowered his voice. "She'll be out before dinner, but don't tell her that!" he warned. He then walked to the window and opened it wide. "By the way, there is a latch here for the window," he explained as he showed it to the boy. "Now when you talk to Angie you don't have to keep it open with your hands. Another hassle avoided, see?"

"Mama, Ben is not so bad, don't you think?" asked Angie as she was being cuddled by her mother. While Robert was visiting Ben, Julianne had decided to go and have a little talk with her daughter; firmly believing that her husband's raving and ranting had done nothing to educate the girl. In fact, only now did Angie understand her parents' anger and promised "solemnly" not to make them worry again. Julianne greatly doubted the resolve behind that promise, but nonetheless, it was definitely a start.

"I think that Ben is a very fine boy to have as a friend," agreed Julianne. "The fact that he was going to take the blame for something that was your idea says quite a lot about his character. Be sure to be nice to him from now on."

Angie nodded vigorously. "Of course Mamma, I'll be his best friend now, whether he likes it or not!" she said with great determination.

Julianne rolled her eyes. "That I will leave you both to determine," she replied with a weary sigh. She kissed her daughter and left the room, thinking that the arrival of Ben Darcy was the best thing that could have happened to her young family. He and her daughter would knock off the sharp corners of each other's character, and both children would benefit from an eventual friendship. The budding relationship of Ben and Angie reminded her of her childhood days; when she and her twin brother Jeremy used to roam the lush, green lands of Scotland. Jeremy had been a brave, generous boy just like Ben, and the times when he had got her out of trouble were innumerable.

Being left alone, Angela rushed to her writing desk, scratched off the conclusion of her novel, and filled a page with Benedict Darby's merits. She was particularly proud of the one line, in which she described Benedict's good humour as a "ray of light in Angelica's melancholy darkness". She stopped only when she heard Ben's voice calling her from his room, and with a happy smile, she rushed to the window, determined to coax the boy into becoming her best friend.

Part 1 Chapter 6

Posted on Friday, 29 September 2000

Dear Mamma and Papa,

Uncle Robert told us that this letter will reach you only when you will be almost on your way back but Clara and Ben and me decided to write to you anyway. Is Europ nice? (you see Papa I know that it is with an r now but Ben says that there is another e at the end so now I will go to Uncle BLOTbert and ask him but I don't think he's as clever as you anyway, but papa he is nice as well!) How are you Mamma? are you feeling better now? if you still feel sad when you BLOT back I'll tell Clara to be good and not to fuss about everything and I will not cry a lot but only a bit and then I will tell BLOT to be good and just stay alone in his room so he doesn't bother us any longer, shall I do that Mamma? Now Clara wants to write something.

Dear Mamma and Papa

Jenny writes awfully long sentences, doesn't she? So I will write short ones. Like this. Can I have a violin? (Angie has one. I want to learn to play and be better) Papa will say no. But I am asking Mamma. Can I Mamma? With my name carved on it? So that no one else could use it. Just me. Jenny has stained her dress with ink. She wants a new silk dress. Like the one we saw in the picture in London. She said please. Can she have one Mamma? Can you tell papa? Ben doesn't want anything because he says he is not a greedy pig. Am I a greedy pig, Mamma? I don't know. Now Ben wants the pen. Ben is always with Angela. They go around saying they're best friends. We think Phillip is nicer. He is a boy. He is very sweet.

Dear Mother and Father,

I hope that your trip is as nice as you told us it would be. I am having a lot of fun here, and I made friends with Angie, though at first she hated me. Isn't it funny? But I still miss you a lot and I hope that you will be here for my birthday (You promised papa!). Did you know that Angie's birthday is a few days before mine? Auntie Ju says that we can have a little party. That would be nice, wouldn't it? ? Angela has a horse called Blaze, and she lets me ride him sometimes. I think it must be very agreeable to have a horse to call your own. Wouldn't I look dignified and nice on my own horse? Just like you Papa! I think you like having a horse don't you? I think I'd like it too.

Clara says that she read in a book that the Turks are going to invade Europe...what are Turks? Why do they want to invade Europe? I don't think Clara understood the book, because Uncle Robert is laughing and he says that that was a long time ago. I always knew that my sisters are stupid. I miss you. Come back soon. Please.

We love you!

Ben, Clara and BLOTifer.

PS. Why does Ben's name always come first? Do you think it's fair?

"Oh Fitzwilliam, I miss them so," sighed Elizabeth after reading the letter out loud to her husband for what seemed to him the tenth time. They had received the letter two days before, and Elizabeth insisted on carrying it around and reading it with increasing tenderness every time. Darcy had been pleasantly surprised by their children's letter, and missed them very much too, but the following day they were to leave Venice for their long journey home, and it really seemed a waste of time to him to reminisce about England on their last day in one of Europe's most romantic cities.

"I really don't understand what I pay their tutor and governess for," he joked pulling his wife closer to him as they stood on one of the many bridges, watching the reflection of the setting sun on the Canal Grande.

Elizabeth met his teasing glance with a small disapproving frown. "I think they are very clever children," she told him defensively. "They can express themselves exceedingly well for so young an age!"

Darcy took the letter in his hands, chuckling once more as he reread it. "They can certainly express their wishes very well!" he scoffed. "Other boys might want toy soldiers, or even a puppy, but no! our son wants a horse. Where does he expect me to get a horse from, the Vatican?"

"And don't forget the violin with our daughter's name carved on it, and the silk dress," put in his wife, starting to see the funny side of it as well.

"A butcher's knife and my steady hand should do the trick," answered Darcy, "and I assure you that Clara will never notice anything!"

Elizabeth laughed slightly and put her arms round her husband's neck, kissing him lightly. "You're a too kind a father to do that, Mr. Darcy," she whispered softly in his ear.

"I try to be," he replied grinning once again as he sought his wife's lips. He was feeling uncharacteristically light-headed as he stood on that bridge in the company of the woman he loved with all his heart. He took in the mesmerizing sight of the canals and the majestic palaces as they all turned the same colour of the golden sky, wondering wistfully why these past weeks had passed so quickly.

Elizabeth sighed blissfully as she snuggled even closer to her husband. "Fitzwilliam, I'm so happy, thank you," she said suddenly.

"It's certainly wonderful to see you smiling and laughing again," replied Darcy honestly. "I was so worried about you after your father ... passed away," he added with a worried frown.

"I feel better now," she replied softly, "you always make me feel better. This trip has been like a dream come true, I will never forget it."

It really had been like a reverie, reflected Elizabeth. Spending a whole month in the sole company of her husband had made her relive the wonderful months of courtship, as well as the happy days of their first year as husband and wife, when their only care had been to make each other happy and discover new traits in character to love and admire. When Benjamin was born, they had adapted quickly to their new role as parents, but the times when they could be alone, really alone, had become very few, especially after Clara and Jenny had come along, and stress and fatigue had often ended up taking a toll on them. Especially after Mr. Bennet died, Elizabeth had to bear the responsibility of comforting her mother and Mary, since Jane was once again expecting a baby and had to return to Linton as soon as possible, Catherine's husband could not leave his patients in London and she could not travel alone for long with their young children. Lydia didn't particularly care, and hadn't even shown up for the funeral. So it had been up to Elizabeth and Darcy, with the help of Bingley, to find a suitable home for Mrs. Bennet and Mary, and it was only to Elizabeth that her mother complained about her "discomfort" and grief. Darcy had noticed that his young wife was tired and melancholy all the time and had thought that some time away from her family, even from their country, would give her some of the lost cheerfulness.

To his great relief and satisfaction, he had been right. Elizabeth looked healthy, happy and enthusiastic with all that surrounded her, just as she once was. He loved the care with which she used to dress up, just for him, when they went to the Balls in Vienna, just as he loved her when she looked at him with that light shining in her beautiful eyes when he was explaining the history of Venice. It took all his English breeding not to take her in his arms, in front of the passion loving Italians when she furrowed her brow in concentration to grasp the difference between the calli and the rii, or when she graced him with her adorable look of astonishment when he had told her that the whole city was built over one hundred and twenty islands and on the twelve million tree trunks with which the original Venetians had tried to render their city more stable.

Darcy was sorry that the trip was to come to an end, but as they stood embraced on the deserted bridge, with only the sound of an occasional gondola, gliding leisurely on the water, to disturb them, he was resolved that nothing would change once they were back in England, and he would try harder to spend more time with his wife, and deal with the management of his estate more quickly and efficiently. Nothing was or could ever be more important to him than Elizabeth and on their return, he wanted to make sure that everyone who knew him would be made well aware of that fact.

Elizabeth's thoughts were pretty much the same as her beloved husband kissed her once again. She thanked God for all the happiness she had found in marrying this man, and all the love he, and their children, showered her with all the time. Just that morning, she had been disappointed by the fact that she would not be able to break Darcy's promise to Ben, at least for time being, but at that very moment, not even the fact that they might not have any children after the twins was enough to ruin the magical moment she was experiencing.

Two children who happened to pass inconspicuously beside the embraced couple looked at each other and rolled their eyes. "Always the same," whispered Giulia in the vulgar tongue. All Italians still refused to speak the language of the ruling Austrians between them.

"Venezia is always like that," replied little Paolo rather incredulously, "all we see is foreigners hugging and kissing on the Canal Grande or in Piazza San Marco!"

The two young Venetians shrugged, and with a smile took one last look of the Inglesi innamorati, thinking how wrong their father had been when he had told them that the English were not as passionate as the Italians.

One morning, about a week prior to the expected arrival of Darcy and Elizabeth, Julianne was sitting in the breakfast room, calmly sipping a cup of tea and enjoying the few moments of solitude that preceded the onset of the Haydon throng. Sure enough, before five minutes had elapsed her husband burst confidently in the room, exchanged "good mornings", received a kiss and sat down dutifully to enjoy his newspaper. The patter of running feet immediately followed, and five cheerful children rushed to their breakfast, each expecting Julianne to listen to what they had to say, totally ignoring the fact that the patient mother and aunt had to grasp five different conversations going on at the same time.

Robert, who had been oblivious to the children's entry, suddenly found his newspaper being snatched away by his affable daughter, who immediately hopped onto her father's lap and pasted on his cheeks a heartfelt kiss. Angela had forgiven her father for his attempt at punishing her and for being so "horrible" after the horse incident and three weeks from then, she still felt that her Papa ought to be made conscious of that fact, many times throughout the day. "Good morning Papa," she cried happily, reaching out to give him a hug. Robert turned to his wife and gave her a smug smile; Julianne was the one who was usually the most "cuddled" by their children. Sure enough, Phillip, escaping from the grasp of his adoring twin cousins, and not wanting to be less cordial then his big sister, jumped on his mother's lap to give her the same treatment. Jenny was inclined to be sentimental, and sighed sadly at the thought of her parents, who were still so far away from her, but she cheered up somewhat when Clara offered her a bit of buttered toast.

"Ben and I made a list of the people invited to our birthday party," announced Angie proudly, while Ben beamed and nodded his head.

The young parents looked at each other and bit their bottom lip. The invitations to the party had been sent a week before, but neither of them had found the heart to deny the two children the opportunity, albeit useless, of being helpful. Angela produced the list proudly, and to Robert, under whose nose it was stuck in lieu of the newspaper, it was immediately apparent that his generous daughter had invited all the children from Stanhope as well.

"Angie, dear, half of the people in the list have to be crossed off," he began cautiously.

His daughter's eyes narrowed into a glare, and she looked hastily at Ben, silently begging for support, only to find the boy totally absorbed in the discarded gazette. Huffing in impatience, she turned once more to her father, who was doing his best not to squirm under her close scrutiny. "Just why should that be, Papa?" she asked in a menacing whisper, pausing threateningly after every word.

Robert cleared his throat. "What did I tell you when we were planning this party?" he asked diplomatically.

"You told me to invite family and friends," replied Angie primly.

"Quote me. Word for word, dear," urged her father, knowing that, for once, he had the winning hand.

Angela took a deep breath, knowing defeat when faced with it. "You said that I was to invite, grandmamma and grandpapa, my aunts and uncles, and my cousins," she conceded, trying desperately not to cry.

"And that is what you will do," said Robert triumphantly.

His daughter scrambled off his lap, and let escape a little sniff. "I don't think I love you that much anymore," she confessed angrily.

Having heard this declaration innumerable times, Robert did not take her seriously. "Unfortunately for you, I still do," he replied gallantly, and satisfied himself with burying his nose, besides Ben's, in the daily paper.

Mr. Merriman suddenly entered gravely and announced a visitor. "A visitor?" asked Julianne, surprised.

"Maybe it's Mamma!" cried Jenny hopefully.

All the little girl's hopes however, were dashed by the entrance of a young woman and a boy, presumably her son, who entered the breakfast room, before the poor butler could do anything about it. "Lord! You have certainly married well, dear Julianne!" cried the woman, giggling uncontrollably.

Julianne stood up, hardly managing to conceal her shock. "Mrs. Wickham. This is indeed a surprise," she finally said quietly.

"Yes, isn't it? My dear husband went to Town for a few weeks and we were in the whereabouts looking for a new house, and I decided to visit it you for some time, isn't it grand?" squealed Lydia.

Robert and Julianne looked at Lydia, not trusting themselves to say a word. Robert could hardly believe his ears. Bingley had told him that Lydia had the infamous knack of inviting herself at the worst possible time, but to have the cheek to come into his house, the home of a person whom she had seen for no more than a couple of days in her whole life, was completely incredible! "Of course, we'll see about that," he mumbled, "Because, as you must have noticed, we have other visitors at the moment," he added, hoping that she would take the hint.

"Lord! Isn't that little boy the very image of his father?" demanded Lydia looking in astonishment at Ben. "Look at my Neil, he is just like dear George!"

"Yes to his infinite misfortune!" mumbled Robert angrily, only to be elbowed, rather painfully by his wife.

"Don't tell me Lizzy and her husband are here too?"

"Mamma and Papa are in Europe," replied Jenny, hoping to be helpful.

"The wealthy can certainly afford to go to Europe," replied her aunt petulantly. "It surprises me to learn that your dear father is not as mean as he makes himself out to be."

Ben bristled at that and Julianne hastened to clear her throat and invite the children to go outside. The boy didn't protest, but the idea of spending time with Neil Wickham did not really appeal to him. Young Wickham had already eyed Angie, and it was obvious that he liked what he saw. Ben didn't know why, but the attentions he was paying her bothered him a great deal. Noticing his expression Angie crept up to him, and linked her arm with his, whispering,

"Jealous?"

"Yes, if you like him," he replied, much too young to be able to lie about such feelings.

Angie raised an eyebrow and smiled at him happily. "No. I like you as you very well know!"

Neil overheard the girl's honest disclosure, and turned to glare at them resentfully. Seeing that look, Ben promised himself to keep both his eyes and ears wide open, hoping against hope that his cousin would not try to get him into trouble before the eyes of the fair Angie.

Part 1 Chapter 7

Posted on Friday, 6 October 2000

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

Posted on Tuesday, 17 October 2000

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)

Posted on Tuesday, 24 October 2000

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 :).

It didn't take Elizabeth long to find her husband. She saw him sitting down on a bench in the back garden, keeping a careful eye on their daughters while they were amusing themselves, as usual, with the ever-tolerant Phillip. Darcy was doing his best to sound cheerful with the girls, and bore with patience all their enthusiastic questions and disjointed conversations, but Elizabeth noticed immediately that he was in reality very downcast. In fact, she had to allow herself a little smile. Her husband's expression, as he sat staring at nothing on the bench, was exactly like the one she had seen on her son just a few minutes before. It was true that Ben had her eyes and, as she realised today, even her temperament, but the expression, the facial features, and that look of hurt dignity he shared completely with her Fitzwilliam. The fact that they were so very similar endeared them so much to one another, and that was why Elizabeth wanted to mend the breach as soon as possible.

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.

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