Hello! This is my first ever fan fiction and I hope you all enjoy it. I apologize for any grammatical or historical inaccuracies. I have altered the timeline a bit in the sense that Darcy's father dies a little earlier than cannon indicates. Everything else remains the same. Constructive criticism is welcome. :)

Son,

The London physician that your uncle, the Earl, foisted upon me has corroborated the diagnosis made by his predecessors. They all agree that there is a minuscule chance for my restoration to good health. I have accepted that I am not long for this world. In the light of this, I have advised our relations that no further expense be incurred for what is evidently a fruitless endeavour. Needless to say, that some of them are "most seriously displeased" by this pronouncement and even ten sheets of the finest quality paper have proven insufficient for expressing their disapprobation. However, the purpose of this missive is not to expound upon what will surely be communicated to you by the concerned personages at some point in time. This letter, Fitzwilliam, is to offer a few last morsels of fatherly advice that I believe will be of benefit to you.

I would like to begin by saying that you are as exemplary an heir as any man may desire and I have complete faith in your ability to steward and carry forward the Darcy legacy. Upon my passing, you will assume the mantle of the Master of Darcy holdings and even more importantly, you will succeed me as the Head of the Darcy family. It is your duties as the latter that we have not had time to discuss and it is my hope to address them. The disagreement we had before you returned to Cambridge weighs heavily on my mind. While I am sure that Miss Dalton is everything lovely, you must understand why I am against such a match. You are not yet one and twenty and your lack of experience in society must excuse your naiveté. The environs of Eton and Cambridge might be more forgiving to those of lesser rank but the ton does not look kindly upon outsiders (yes, including your friend Mr. Bingley). Despite not being without fortune, Miss Dalton's family is entrenched in trade and not likely to leave it behind in the near future. Even if they were to purchase an estate at this very moment, it will be at least two or three generations before they cement their position among the landed gentry, let alone garner any notice from the first circles. In such circumstances, any alliance with their family becomes insupportable. It is our connections that weaken or strengthen our position in society. The connections that the future Mrs Darcy will bring will not only affect your standing in society but materially affect your sister's marital prospects. Not only that, they would also reflect on your uncle and aunts and have an impact on your children's reception as well.

You must not forget that you are a Darcy. There are expectations and responsibilities attached to this position. You must always strive towards the improvement of our legacy not only in terms of fortune but also prestige. Towards, such an end, it is imperative that you choose a wife of good breeding, adequate fortune and unimpeachable connections. You must not forget that Georgiana's dowry is 30,000 pounds and will deplete the capital available to the estate. As a diligent master, it is incumbent upon you to minimize this loss. Life is unpredictable, son. One cannot be cavalier regarding the solvency of an estate. Your wife's and her relations' deportment in society will affect how you yourself are perceived. Any lack in their behaviour will expose you to ridicule and show you to be a weak head of the family, besides setting a poor example for the next generation. Good connections will make the ton much more forgiving of your shortcomings while also bringing you respect, power and opportunities.

That is not to say that other qualities are not important. Of course, she must demonstrate intelligence, kindness and trustworthiness in order to be a good mistress, wife, mother and sister. If, in addition to all this, she also stirs your passions, then that is even better. It does make the task of begetting an heir much more enjoyable. No, do not blush, Fitzwilliam. It is a fact of life. But you must take care to not be taken in by a pretty face and flirtatious manners. Often, those with vested interest in your fortune and patronage will try to engineer circumstances that will make you honour-bound to offer matrimony. You must, therefore, be vigilant. Keep your distance and do not give rise to expectations you cannot meet. Your behaviour should be irreproachable. When I first entered society, I found eschewing dancing with anybody but the hostess to be a particularly effective deterrent. It seems that nothing gives rise to speculation as quickly as an unmarried gentleman dancing with an unattached lady.

Moreover, son, happiness in marriage depends much more on how one nurtures the relationship than on feelings that may or may not be present before the union. As long as the partners do not hold each other in contempt or bear ill will for each other, there is every possibility of a fulfilling marriage. It is as easy to fall out of love when the bloom of youth has withered as it is to fall in love with sparkling eyes and a pleasing figure. The fact that you believe your heart to be inclined towards Miss Dalton in no way guarantees that she is ideal for you. It is likely that the differences in your station, upbringing and personalities will reveal themselves before long and give rise to resentment. You, Fitzwilliam, are quiet, thoughtful, uncomfortable in company and given to solitude. From what I have heard of Miss Dalton, she is quite your opposite and indeed I would think her more compatible with somebody like my godson, George. I only say this to caution you against allowing your emotions to overwhelm your reason in future. The folly of youth often lends itself to rash decisions. It is my hope that as you gain maturity and experience you will leave it behind.

Your mother and I married for practical considerations and were reasonably happy with our circumstances. She became, over time, very dear to me and I am sure she would have said the same about me. The fact that our union fulfilled the expectations of our families only added to our happiness. She also proved to be a wonderful mother. If I have been even half as good in my role as your father, I consider myself successful. I only add my wishes that you find similar felicity in life. I am sorry that I will not be there to witness your contentment. You are very dear to me, Fitzwilliam. If only we had more time together!

I do not wish for you to read this letter while our earlier disagreement is still fresh in your mind for I do not believe you will consider it as objectively as I desire you to. In the past we have not been able to have such a discussion as it inevitably devolves into an argument. While I am easy enough in conversing on the lighter aspects of life, I am often at a loss as to how to put into words the weightier issues of a personal nature. Therefore, I shall wait for you to return home for the summer and then hand this letter over to you. You may take some time to ruminate upon its contents and then we may discuss it at our leisure.

Your father,

George Andrew Darcy

The discussion had never taken place for his father had passed with a week of writing the epistle. Fitzwilliam Darcy had come home to chaos and received it as a bequest along with responsibilities that threatened to bury him under their weight. Some things his father had written had hurt him for who wants to be told that the woman he desires would prefer his father's godson. Yet, to his grieving heart, this last letter had also been a source of wisdom and strength. In moments of doubt, these last words of his father had been his guiding light and anchor.

As he once again put the oft read letter back into its envelope, Fitzwilliam wished for the umpteenth time that night that his father had never written it. These two sheets of paper had formed the foundation of so much heartache. While he now agreed that what he had felt for Miss Dalton had been merely a superficial sort of infatuation; seven years before, he had been heartbroken. His father's missive had become an embodiment of his dying wishes. So much of his conduct had been moulded by the need to make his father proud of him. In his mind, there had always been a fear of falling short of the standards his father clearly expected him to meet. He had tried so very hard to follow faithfully the strictures laid out in that wretched letter and he had succeeded too, he felt, before Ramsgate and before he met Elizabeth.

Suddenly, what had previously come so easily to him became exceptionally difficult and he had been terrified. He had been terrified of damaging the legacy that was clearly so important to his father. He felt his failure in that moment much more keenly than he ever had. He had failed as a brother, as a friend, as a suitor and even as a son. The words that had once been his inspiration now rang of pretense and overbearing pride. Everybody he knew praised his father as the perfect example of a gentleman. Then how could he have behaved in an un-gentleman like manner by following his advice? Had he misunderstood the path that his father had wanted him to tread? Once again his mind went back to what his father had said regarding his compatibility with Miss Dalton. He had never realised before now the similarities Elizabeth shared with her. Both were cheerful ladies who enjoyed the diversions society offered and were fond of books and nature. Elizabeth, however, was more outspoken, vivacious and in possession of a nimbler wit. Perhaps his father was right in supposing that such a woman would not entertain a preference for him. Why, in comparison to them he was positively bland and dull.

Maybe if he showed the letter to Elizabeth she would understand why he thought he was doing what was correct. She, who is so close to her own father, would surely comprehend his need to feel closer to his own? No, all that would do is make her pity him for being a pathetic nincompoop. He laughed at his foolish hopes, even as he wept for the happiness that had been sacrificed on the altar of duty. There could be no hope anymore. Elizabeth hated him, and rightly so. All that remained was to caution her against the perils of attaching her heart to George Wickham and letting Bingley know that his was not a lost cause after all.

It was just as dawn was breaking over the horizon that he began what he supposed would be his first and last letter to Elizabeth. He prayed it would lead to a happier outcome for its recipient than his father's had for him.