A/N: Hello, all! I was blown away by the reception to my first P&P fanfic, so I decided to continue writing. Thank you all so much for your reviews! I hope you enjoy this fanfic as well!

Also posted on Archive of Our Own (AO3) under the same name if you'd prefer to read it there.

Navigating the Ton has never been an easy feat. Edwin Darcy, who loathed being forced away from Pemberley, found himself dreading every new season in town. However, duty demanded it, and a Darcy never shirks their duty. So, every winter, he arrived in London, determined to make his season as short as possible. Still, Edwin was not blind to his fortune. He was well-aware of the fact that many people envied his standing in society, and he himself thanked God that his family didn't have monetary concerns like so many England. He was, in fact, extremely grateful to have so much money in excess as to be able to help those who did have such issues. In material matters, Edwin Darcy was happy.

It was his social situation which displeased him so much. Many would question the reason, or lack thereof, behind such a statement. Was it not the wish of every Englishmen to mingle with high society? When asked this question, Edwin could only laugh; for clearly, the person had not met the people considered "fashionable" in town. In truth, he despised being in the company of the first circles. Every person had an agenda. Their only goal was to better their standing, climb the social ladder - and they would dawn any mask required to do so. People of the first circles considered all those who were less fortunate to be beneath them. Rarely were they genuinely passionate about something, choosing only to pursue things that would benefit them - hobbies and people included.

As one of the wealthiest members of high society, Edwin was fawned over. Men wanted to befriend him, and women wanted to marry him. Of course, none of them cared a jot what he was actually like. They did not seek companionship or love. To them, he was only a very rich man who could be used to raise their already considerable fortunes and help them form more beneficial connections. This disgusted Edwin. He found himself surrounded by people who cared nothing for good character or meaningful relationships. However, reasonably, he knew that not every person could be like that. Surely, even in a sea of pride and pretension, there was some goodness. How was he to find it, though? How was he to know who he could actually trust? The answer came quite unexpectedly.

Edwin had been having a horrible day. The weather was foul, and the company was worse. The universe itself seemed determined to put him in the worst of moods. Despite his ardent dislike for socializing in London, Edwin always strove to be his natural, amiable self - the person he was in Derbyshire. After all, he did not want those around him to feel as miserable as he did. Today, however, he could not muster up the energy to be agreeable. Instead, he sulked in the corner of the ballroom, refusing to dance. Edwin knew his behavior was uncharacteristic, and the Ton's response to it only added to his ire - they didn't care. He was being so disagreeable, yet they treated him the same as they always did. Ridiculous! In his mind, someone should be reprimanding him. Yet, Edwin knew they wouldn't. They didn't care how he behaved. None of them were willing to take the risk of correcting someone whose favor they desperately wished to win...or, so he thought.

It was after a particularly dismissive, perhaps borderline rude comment that a young man approached Edwin. Edwin had seen the man before, but most of his knowledge came from gossip. The man, Henry Stills, was rather new to the Ton. Being from new money, he immediately became the subject of ridicule amongst most members of high society. As if, somehow, the fact that he worked his way up made him less worthy of his position. Edwin disagreed, as per usual. Much to Edwin's relief, Mr. Stills never once vied for his attention, so he was more than curious about why the young man sought him out now.

"I had thought you different," Mr. Stills remarked, a severe look upon his face.

"I beg your pardon?" Edwin questioned after his mind finally caught up with the comment.

"I overestimated your character," Mr. Stills explained.

With burning curiosity, Edwin asked, "How so?"

"You have always stood out to me," he said, stepping closer to avoid eavesdroppers. "I am aware of what these people think of me. I know they think me beneath them...they think most people beneath them. You never seemed to be that way. I always thought you charitable and kind, unpolluted by the pride and conceit of those around you."

Edwin desperately wished to respond, but the man continued.

"I can see now that I was wrong. You are no different from the rest. You have spent the entire evening attempting to ignore all who approach you. Those who persist are treated with a level of contempt I did not know you possessed. I must thank you, sir, for showing me your true character. Good day."

With that, Mr. Stills walked away, leaving an astonished Edwin Darcy by himself. Never before had Edwin been thus treated, especially not by someone in the Ton. Mr. Stills, a man who had everything to gain from Edwin's friendship, had instead chosen to rebuke him for his poor behavior. Had Stills spoken like that to anyone else, he surely would have been cast out. Edwin, however, had never been more impressed. He had finally found someone who actually cared; someone who would not simply agree with everything he did because of his rank.

The day after the ball, Edwin called on Stills at his townhouse. The man was rightfully confused, eventually concluding that the wealthier gentleman was there to exact some sort of revenge. Much to his poorly-veiled surprise, Edwin apologized profusely for his behavior, explaining that it was that very behavior in those around him - the insufferable pride and conceit - which had driven him into such a state. After a bit of back and forth, the two men fell into an easy camaraderie, discussing their similar views of the Ton.

"Perhaps you've cracked the code," Stills said laughingly, swirling his glass of brandy.

"The code to what?" Edwin questioned.

"To finding those in society who are truly good - and brave enough to stand up for it."

"Have I?"

"Indeed. We must be abominably prideful and wait for someone to call us out on it."

The men both laughed, but Edwin soon realized the potential of such a strategy. What did he look for in a friend? Someone of strong character who refused to abandon their morals simply to get ahead in life - someone who would not hesitate to call him out as Stills just did. A person with their own opinions and passions - someone who truly believed in what they said and fought for what they believed in. What a delight such a person would be! And, for the first time in his life, Edwin knew how to find them...he could surround himself with people who cared nothing for his wealth or rank and everything for his character.

By virtue of this method, Edwin ended up with a small group of friends who were worth more to him than his entire fortune. Most importantly, however, was the fact that this method had led him to his wife. She had admonished him most severely during a country ball, and Edwin was smitten. After an explanation, she admitted that his strategy was rather clever, and a friendship blossomed between the two of them. A year later, Edwin happily married the woman who had become his closest friend. Truly, Edwin did not think it possible to love a person so very dearly. He was proven wrong at the birth of his one and only son, George. George used his father's technique for himself, and Edwin eventually found himself with a new daughter-in-law, Anne Darcy. She soon gave him another great joy - his grandson, Fitzwilliam.

Edwin Darcy's method of putting on a proud facade had resulted in two happy marriages and several life-long friendships. It had also allowed them to, albeit unknowingly, thwart a potential villain. Edwin's strategy had granted the Darcy family with a far better understanding of character. There were few who could trick a Darcy into seeing them as something they were not. Thus, when George Wickham began to spend more time living in vice than in virtue, George Darcy was immediately alerted to it. In respect to his steward's memory, he tried to bring the boy back to the path of righteousness. Unfortunately, he was not to be moved, and George Darcy was not to be tricked into trusting a scoundrel. Concluding that nothing more could be done, Wickham was generously given four thousand pounds and was sent to the newly budding nation of the United States to make a life for himself. George Darcy wished he could say that he was surprised when, after only three years, he received news of Wickham, who had been shot and killed over gambling debts in Philadelphia. Though tragic, the incident served to reaffirm the Darcys of their trusted method.

Fitzwilliam Darcy was determined to follow in his grandfather and father's footsteps, surrounding himself only with those who truly cared for him and not for his money. At the age of eight and twenty, Fitzwilliam was more than happy with his small group of friends - all he wanted now was the remarkable woman who would pass his family's test.

All he wanted now was a wife.