Literature
Just white little lies... - P2
20 years earlier
Fitzwilliam Darcy Sr sat behind his desk brewing. Not happy. Not feeling the least proud. Not like he normally did when it was about his sons, one of them particularly. The oldest was perhaps a lost case by now, unfortunately, but the youngest, his namesake. Normally that boy made him glow with pride. Whispers around the estate had finally reached him. Words about what should not have happened. Of course, looking back at history this had more or less always happened here, in some way or the other. Yet, ever since his own dear fathers wild days with parties on the mansion that was still etched into his memory, Fitzwilliam Sr