Beginning , Section IV

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Chapter 13

Posted on June 14, 2009

Georgiana sat at her dressing table, absently staring into the mirror before her. She was looking forward to the house party and the arrival of their final houseguests. Relatives of Mary's father were due to arrive that afternoon. Georgiana was thankful that Mary would have more houseguests that would be supportive of her. She still found herself blushing as she thought about the treatment of Mary at the hands of her cousins. Seeing Mary's expectant demeanor deflate following her harsh reception was painful to Georgiana; she felt as if the slight were against herself. Despite their argument a few days ago and Georgiana's heartache over the loss of Fitzwilliam, she found herself wanting to comfort Mary. She had thought about going to her room the night before to offer her apologies, but Georgiana could not bring herself to leave her rooms.
While Georgiana did not feel that she could bring herself to talk to Mary directly, she did feel that she could be supportive of Mary and perhaps shield her from some of the Viscountess and Lady Letitia's rudeness. She suspected that Lady Letitia's behavior went beyond her natural snobbery. To act in such a manner towards the ward of one's host was a show of disrespect. Georgiana was well aware of Lady Letitia's designs on Richard; subtlety was not a concept that Lady Letitia could grasp. Women like Lady Letitia felt that the best way to raise their own prospects with gentlemen of quality was to insult other women. Unfortunately for them, this tactic often had the adverse effect of driving away their intended target. Georgiana wondered how Lady Letitia had so quickly determined that Mary was competition.

Lady Letitia had always been cordial to Georgiana, sometimes overly so. Perhaps there was some artifice and calculation behind that. Georgiana had plenty of experience dealing with mercenary women using similar devices to win her brother's affections. She was suddenly struck by the realization that while Lady Letitia had instantly perceived Mary as a threat to her plans, the lady had never appeared to fear such competition from her. Georgiana wondered at this disparity in treatment. While one could argue that one way to curry the favor of a gentleman would be to be kind and solicitous to their ward, it would also be counterproductive to heap effusive praise on another woman of marriageable age in that gentleman's presence.

Perhaps Lady Letitia had never viewed her as competition for Colonel Fitzwilliam's affections because she had not truly been competition. Nothing in her behavior towards Colonel Fitzwilliam would suggest more than a sisterly affection for an older cousin. Likewise, nothing in his attentions towards her would suggest more than a brotherly affection for a much younger cousin and ward. For a woman as observant as Lady Letitia, at least when it came to the subject of Fitzwilliam, it would be readily apparent that the gentleman held a regard for Mary that went beyond the platonic or filial. Georgiana was ever mindful of the shared looks and covert glances that passed between Fitzwilliam and Mary and she did not doubt that Lady Letitia had observed them as well.

Had Georgiana come to this conclusion a few weeks prior, the mortification that she felt when she discovered Mary and Fitzwilliam's relationship would have been reduced. While this realization caused Georgiana some pain, she found that it helped to alleviate some of the residual animosity that she felt towards Mary. Georgiana had blamed her friend or the loss of Fitzwilliam's affections. However, as his affections had only been of the brotherly variety, and she was confident that those sentiments remained, Georgiana began to see the uselessness of harboring any ill will towards her friend. Added to this was Georgiana's natural propensity to seek peace. It had been quite a trial to maintain a frosty attitude toward Mary. Forgiveness, or rather seeking forgiveness as there was little for which Mary had to repent, was much less exhausting than holding onto anger and hurt. Georgiana had missed her conversations with her friend and their time spent in companionable activity. She was eager to renew those bonds of friendship, but she was unsure of what words to say to heal the breach between them.

Giving herself one last look in the mirror, Georgiana rose from her vanity and made her way down to the breakfast room. Until she found the proper words and the courage to say them, she was resolved to act as the loyal friend that Mary needed.

Mary made her way to the nursery for her daily appointment with Sir Little Bits. Behind her back she held a surprise for her first and most loyal. Upon entering the nursery, Mary was surprised to discover that her audience had grown. Ronald stood upon her entrance, bowing slightly at the waist in greeting.

"Good morning, Miss Farthington," the young boy her greeted formally. "Would it be acceptable for me to join William for the story?"

Mary smiled and laughed good-naturedly at the request. "Why of course. However, I must insist that you call me Mary."

"No," William protested as he ran over to greet her. "You must call her Princess Mary because she is a princess."

"No she isn't," Ronald protested. "I will do no such thing."

"She is a princess and if you want to hear her stories you shall call her by her proper title!" William crossed his arms and glared at his cousin. He took his job as a knight very seriously.

"You don't have to call me princess," Mary soothed as she took a seat on the settee. "William and I simply like to play pretend. It is great fun. I am his Princess and he is a knight in my court."

"Yes, you must see my armor, Ronald. I have a sword and everything. Uncle Richard is also a knight. Princess Mary named me Sir Little Bits," William piped up excitedly. He was anxious to have his older cousin take part in his games.

"Does Uncle Richard have a knight's name as well?" Ronald asked, suddenly more interested in joining the fun knowing that his uncle also took part.

"Yes, he does," Mary replied, thinking quickly of a suitable name. "He is called Sir Gallant."

"Does my lady have need of me?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked as he stepped into the room. He had been standing at the door for quite sometime watching the scene with amusement.

Mary turned towards the Colonel, her face wreathed in a broad smile. "Yes, Sir Gallant. I bid you to come attend to the telling of the tales with Sir Little Bits and Ronald."

"Princess, why can't I have a proper name like Sir Little Bits and Sir Gallant?" Ronald pouted, abandoning his previous position in order to emulate his uncle.

"Do you wish to join my court, Ronald?" Mary asked, doing her best to suppress a smile.

The boy nodded his head eagerly. William clapped in triumph and ran to retrieve his sword from the chest where he kept his toys.

"If he is to be knighted, you will need this Princess," William stated very seriously as he handed Mary his small wooden sword."

"You are quite right, Sir Little Bits," Fitzwilliam replied. "It is good that you are attentive to knightly protocol."

Mary laughed lightly as she took the sword from William. She bid Ronald to kneel before her.

"Do you, Ronald Fitzwilliam, promise to uphold the office of knight, serving your Princess and protecting the kingdom from all manner of fell beast and Viking raiders?"

"Vikings?" Fitzwilliam whispered to Mary.

"Yes, Vikings are an ever present threat to my kingdom, Sir Gallant. Do not interrupt," Mary whispered in return.

"I promise, Princess Mary."

"Very well. Then I dub thee Sir Kelvin the Red."

Mary tapped Sir Kelvin on each of his shoulders with the blade of the sword before commanding him to rise. Sir Little Bits clapped and shouted in appreciation.

"Now, Sir Kelvin, are you ready for a story?"

At the boy's eager nod, Mary turned to retrieve the presents that she had made Sir Little Bits from underneath the pillow where she had hidden them.

"You are in luck, Sir Kelvin, as today's story comes with a special surprise."

Mary brought out two cloth puppets sewn onto wooden spoons. The spoons she had acquired from the kitchens as castoffs and the puppets she had sewn and stitched herself. The puppets were of a handsome prince and a fearsome red dragon.

William squealed in delight, jumping from his seat to grasp the puppet of the dragon.

"Princess Mary, are these for me?"

"Yes, I made them special for you, Sir Little Bits. I thought they would make our stories more fun. You can have the dragon and Sir Kelvin can play with the prince."

Ronald took the prince puppet from Mary, a smile lighting up his face as he thanked her. Forgetting his previous reluctance, Ronald dashed off to join William in his play.

"Is there no present for me, Princess?" Fitzwilliam asked in low voice as not to be overheard by the boys or the nursery maid.

"I did not know that you enjoyed playing with puppets, Colonel Fitzwilliam," Mary replied with a grin, matching his tone.

"Is it Colonel now?" Fitzwilliam asked, his smile fading.

"Ah, you are right. Forgive me Sir Gallant," Mary smirked up at him as Fitzwilliam joined her on the settee.

Fitzwilliam grinned. "I suppose that shall do. When did you come up with that name for me, Princess?"

"I admit that I just thought of it today in order to convince Sir Kelvin to join my court," Mary blushed slightly as her brown eyes met his. "However, I think the name suits you well."

"Yes," Fitzwilliam agreed as he pulled a smug face. "I have been told by some that I do look quite dashing in my red dress uniform."

Mary laughed. "While I do agree that you are handsome both in and out of uniform…"

"Madam!" Fitzwilliam interrupted with mock alarm.

"Oh, you teasing man! You know my meaning," Mary replied, hitting Fitzwilliam lightly on the arm. "I was going to say that you are chivalrous, noble and valiant."

Fitzwilliam considered these descriptions for a moment, before leaning over to whisper huskily in her ear.

"Is not gallant another word for paramour, Princess?"

Mary swallowed thickly before nervously calling Ronald and William over for their story. Fitzwilliam chastised himself for discomfiting her, but he could only feel a modicum of contrition as he observed the becoming red flush that accented her brown cheeks. Twelfth Night could not come soon enough.

With the afternoon came the remaining houseguests for the Twelfth Night house party. Mary was especially excited to see Mr. Brambles again and to meet her cousins Mr. and Mrs. Peterson. Although she had never met them, Mary was confident that she would soon grow to esteem them both. From Mrs. Peterson's letters, Mary already knew that her father's cousin was a warm and generous woman with a good heart, although perhaps a bit prone to gossip. Her letter to Mary had been filled with warm greetings and her expectations for a lovely summer spent together in Brighton. However, she had also included a few tidbits about the personal lives of their Brighton neighbors. Mary already knew that a Mr. Gregory was exceedingly fond of wine, so much so that at a ball they all attended last summer, he had managed to fall asleep in the middle of a set. Mary also knew that Mrs. Peterson's best friend Mrs. Darmont was now forced to wear wooden dentures as the last of her teeth had fallen out due to her addiction to drinking tea that Mrs. Peterson swore was two parts sugar to one part tea and her aversion to daily teeth cleanings.

"Mr. Brambles, Mr. Derek Peterson and Mrs. Beatrice Peterson," the footman announced the newcomers to the Darcy and Fitzwilliam family assembled in the sitting room.

"Welcome back to Pemberley, Mr. Brambles," Darcy stepped forward to greet him, grasping the elder gentleman's arm firmly.

"It is good to see you all again," Mr. Brambles replied warmly. "And how are you my dear?"

"Very well, Mr. Brambles," Mary replied as she stepped forward to give her friend a warm hug.

Mr. Brambles laughed. "Good, good. You look very well, my dear. Let me introduce my friends and your cousins. Miss. Farthington, may I present Mrs. Peterson and her son Mr. Derek Peterson."

Mrs. Peterson was a short round woman of fifty some years with curly brown hair and kind grey eyes. Her dress was fashionable and well made, although not as ostentatious as that of Lady Letitia.

"Oh, it is lovely to finally meet you, dear," the woman exclaimed before engulfing Mary in a warm embrace, which was eagerly returned.

"It is lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Peterson. I confess that I am quite anxious to know more of my father's family."

"We are your family too, dear. And I will not hear of you calling me Mrs. Peterson. You must address me as Beatrice."

Mary readily agreed and bid Beatrice to call her Mary. This won her another warm hug.

Mary had to stifle a gasp when meeting Derek Peterson. The young man of three and thirty was almost the splitting image of her father when Lord Farthington was a young man. He shared her father's bright green eyes and wavy blond hair as well as his tall broad shouldered frame.

Mr. Peterson was less intimate but no less warm in his greeting.

"Your father has told us so much about you, Mary, that I feel that I have known you these last nineteen years," the older man stated as he held her hand in both of his and smiled down at her gently. "I am sure that we shall get along famously."

Mr. Darcy completed the introductions of his family to Mary's relations. Mary noted with some distaste the indifferent greeting that the Viscountess and Lady Letitia offered. As soon as the introductions were complete, the ladies excused themselves begging the need to rest before dinner. The Viscount, however, was much more affable in his greetings to those assembled and expressed his desire to engage in a game of billiards with Mr. Peterson after he rested from his journey. Fitzwilliam was just as cordial in his greeting as Mary expected. He decided to join his brother and Derek in the promised billiards match and cajoled Darcy into joining in as well. He even managed to make Beatrice blush prettily with a well-placed compliment.

"Oh, you young people," Beatrice exclaimed as she waved away the compliment on her appearance.

Mary noted with some degree of surprise the becoming blush that spread over Georgiana's features when she was introduced to Derek Peterson. For his part, the gentleman seemed to linger a bit longer than was proper over the lady's hand. Mary's eyes quickly found Elizabeth's, whose look of intrigue matched her own.

"Let me show you all to your rooms. I am sure you are anxious to rest and refresh yourselves. If you like, I could have tea brought up to you. However, I thought that you might like to have a light repast in the blue sitting room with Mary, Georgiana and myself when you are ready."

The party readily agreed to those arrangements and Mary thanked Elizabeth for her thoughtfulness. She was very eager to get to know her relations better.
Elizabeth bid the Petersons and Mr. Brambles to follow her to be shown to their rooms.
Mr. Brambles, however, declined and requested a private word with Mr. Darcy on matters of business. Elizabeth consented to the scheme and informed him that she had placed him in the rooms he had occupied when he last stayed with them.

Mary watched the two men exit to make their way to Mr. Darcy's study with some concern. However, she was soon distracted by Georgiana's approach.

"The Petersons are lovely people. I look forward to knowing them better. You must be pleased to meet your relations, Mary."

"I admit that I am beyond pleased," she replied as she turned towards her friend. "Did you not think Derek to be quite handsome?"

Mary smiled knowingly at her friend's becoming blush. "I had not noticed. But, now that you mention it, he is quite well favored."

"Hmmm," Mary replied. "I believe he found you to be quite well favored, as well."

Georgiana looked as if she would reply with some retort before thinking better of it. "Do you think so?"

Mary smiled even wider. "Well, as I have only known the gentleman for five minutes, I cannot speak with confidence as to what his feelings may be," Mary paused and made note of the slight deflation of Georgiana's posture. "However, he did appear to be very reluctant to let your hand go."

Georgiana smiled at this, regaining some of her previous buoyancy.

"Now, you have not told me what you are planning to wear to the ball." Mary skillfully redirected the conversation as she took her friend by the arm and led her up the stairs to the family wing. Mary was very happy to meet her relations but even more pleased to have the rift between herself and Georgiana begin to heal.

Chapter 14

Posted on June 22, 2009

Mr. Darcy led Mr. Brambles to his private study. Darcy could not help but to be curious as to the nature of the business that Mr. Brambles wanted to discuss. He realized that it must have been of some import or urgency for Mr. Brambles to request an audience so soon after his arrival from town.

"Would you care for a scotch, Mr. Brambles?" Darcy offered the man once he was seated comfortably in an armchair by the fire.

"Why, yes. Thank you." Mr. Brambles accepted the drink gratefully before taking a generous draught from the glass.

Darcy sat in the chair across from him, clasping his hands in his lap.

"So, what is it that you would like to discuss, Mr. Brambles? Was your business in London accomplished to your satisfaction?"

"Yes…and no. It is my business in London that I wish to discuss," Mr. Brambles replied as he finished his drink and sat back wearily in his chair.

"As you are well aware, Lord Farthington, having no natural children of his own, settled the bulk of his estate onto his adopted daughter Mary. The estate in Sussex is not entailed and can thus be settled upon whomever Lord Farthington willed it to. As you can imagine, his decision to leave most of his property to an adopted daughter and the son of a close friend to whom he was nearly a stranger did not sit well with some members of Farthington's family."

"I confess, I had wondered about Lord Farthington's decision. Mr. Peterson and his mother seem like fine people. Could he not have left his estate and Mary's protection in their hands?"

"Yes, the Peterson's are good people and Lord Farthington left them a generous bequest. However, the Petersons have a substantial estate and several properties of their own. Lord Farthington had originally contemplated leaving Mary in the care of the late Mr. Peterson should anything untoward happen to him. But, the elder Mr. Peterson passed some ten years ago and Lord Farthington had some reservations about leaving Mary in Mrs. Peterson's care long term. Likewise, he thought it inappropriate for Mary's guardian to be a single man."

"I see. It does not appear that the Peterson's harbor any resentment regarding Farthington's decision."

"Oh, heavens no. They both have expressed to me that they think the Sussex estate is the rightful inheritance of Miss. Farthington. No, the trouble is from Farthington's American relations."

"American relations?"

"Yes. Sometime before the rebellion, Lord Farthington's great-uncle, Lewis Farthington went to the America's to seek his fortune as he was the second son. He settled in Virginia and married a wealthy tobacco plantation owner's daughter, a Miss Nancy Adams. As Nancy was the only child of Mr. Adams, upon that gentleman's death, Lewis Farthington inherited the Adams Plantation, which was quite extensive.

"Lewis's decision to move to the Americas and become a slave owner did not sit well with his brother Robert and the two did not speak to each other for several years. Upon his father's death, Robert Farthington inherited not only the estate in Sussex, but sugar plantations owned by his father in the Caribbean on the isle of New Sussex. Robert ended the practice on New Sussex and instead instituted a landlord-tenant system in which his former slaves were given homesteads of their own where they grew sustaining crops in addition to sugar. In an effort to assuage the sins of his fathers, Robert also became a very vocal opponent of the slave trade in the colonies and of slavery here in Britain.

Matthew Farthington, being routinely exposed to the abolitionist speakers and activists whom his father financially supported and hearing the gruesome details of the accursed institution from a young age, was moved to do more than financially and politically support the cause, as you are well aware. He became an active abolitionist himself, choosing to settle permanently in New Sussex. Matthew Farthington petitioned his father to further reform the landlord-tenant system in New Sussex by giving the freemen ownership of the homesteads on which they worked and granting them equal status as the whites who worked on New Sussex. He brought in teachers and opened up a school and encouraged New Sussex to move from a plantation to a proper town. His vision was for New Sussex to be a model of the abolitionist movement, an experiment of sorts. He would create a community where the colored man and the white man lived as equals while still sustaining an agrarian based economy that was both profitable and equitable."

"That sounds quite radical indeed. The implications of such an experiment go beyond the issue of slavery," Darcy noted.

"Yes. Matthew's stance was radical for the time, and is still quite radical today. At times he was at odds with his father as the idea of New Sussex caused a bit of a stir in Parliament. However, his father gave Matthew a good deal of deference when it came to the management of New Sussex.

Upon Robert Farthington's death, Matthew came into his full inheritance and diverted more of his wealth to the abolitionist cause. All of the profits from New Sussex's crops went to the support of a ship, Liberty, and a team of abolitionists whose primary goal was to document the institution of slavery throughout the colonies and the slave trade itself, in order to provide the press with first hand accounts aimed at swaying public opinion toward abolition.

One of his first trips on the Liberty was to Virginia and the plantation owned by his cousin Jacob Farthington. Matthew contacted Jacob in an effort to heal the breach between the two sides of the family. He was welcomed to Adams Plantation. While there, he worked to gather first hand accounts from the slaves and learned all that he could about the institution in the American colonies. He even tried to convince his cousin to emulate the model of New Sussex or to at least commit to freeing his slaves in his will.
During the months of his visit to Adams Plantation, Lord Farthington met and befriended Dinah, Miss Farthington's mother, who worked as a slave in the Adams household.

Lord Farthington was unsuccessful in healing the breach in the family or in convincing his cousin of the rightness of the abolitionist cause. The cousins parted on less than amicable terms. However, Lord Farthington managed to purchase Dinah, who by the time of his departure was heavy with child. He intended to settle Dinah in New Sussex as a freewoman. However, she died in childbirth before reaching New Sussex. The rest of the history is known to you."

Darcy sat back in his chair and took a generous sip of his scotch.

"While I find this history to be fascinating, I fail to see the connection to Miss Farthington's legitimacy as Lord Farthington's heir. From what you have related, the estate was not entailed and Mary's closest relations, the Petersons, have not contested the will."

"Exactly. Jacob Farthington's son, Peter Farthington, through his agents, first attempted to challenge the will based on an argument that since Mary was not the natural legitimate daughter of Lord Farthington, any claim she had to the estate was second to Peter Farthington's. When they failed based on this argument, they put forth an alternative. Peter Farthington's attorneys claimed that the sale of Dinah to Lord Farthington was not legitimate and that at the time of her death, Dinah remained the property of Jacob Farthington. However, even if the sale was legitimate, the purchase price did not include Dinah's child, who had been conceived while Dinah was the undisputed property of Jacob Farthington. Under this reasoning, Mary Farthington would be the property of Peter Farthington and any property in her possession belongs to her master."

"Good God. Such arguments are insupportable! We are speaking of a woman, not a mare!" Darcy interrupted, disdain evident in his tone.

"Yes, you and I both agree that such language is quite inappropriate. But to the slave owner, a slave is merely another category of cattle and not a person.

Fortunately, I was able to persuade the court of the foolishness of such an argument and presented the original bill of sale proving the legitimacy of Lord Farthington's purchase."

"I wonder that such proof was even necessary," Darcy exclaimed as he rose from his seat. "Slavery was outlawed in Britain years ago. I would think that a slave owner has no rights which a British court ought to respect."

"Yes, the trade has been outlawed, but the institution is still allowed to prevail in the colonies and territories. However, there is no need to fear. Miss Farthington's status as a free citizen in Britain is indisputable. I shared this information with you because, as her guardian, you should be privy to every legal challenge that may arise concerning Miss Farthington. As this suit was quite sudden and unexpected, and the exact nature of the challenge was not revealed to me until I had already arrived in London, I took it upon myself to see to the matter as part of the final settlement of Lord Farthington's estate. I hope that I was not in error in making such an assumption."

"No, your judgment was sound, Mr. Brambles. The successful settlement of the challenge is proof of this. However, in the future I would like to be informed as soon as possible of any legal challenges that impact Miss Farthington."

Mr. Brambles sighed in relief before giving his agreement.

"My audience with you today was not just to inform you of this legal situation, Mr. Darcy. I also thought you should be made aware of the delicate nature of Miss Farthington's future. The rift between Lord Farthington and his cousin was a great one, indeed. There was much animosity between the two gentlemen that I fear may have also carried onto the son."

Darcy's brows rose in alarm at this statement. "Are you suggesting that Miss Farthington is in some sort of danger?"

Mr. Brambles finished his scotch before answering, his brow creased with worry.

"I am not confident of the nature of the danger to which Miss Farthington may be exposed, but I fear that this is not the last we have heard from Mr. Peter Farthington. Although the gentleman acted through his lawyers and was not present at the hearings, I have received word from him. The gentleman is in London and he was quite upset by the court's decision. I have no evidence of this, but my feeling is that he could resort to means outside of the legal system to fulfill his objectives."

At this, Darcy took to pacing the room, his look dark.

"What 'means' do you suspect he would utilize?"

Mr. Brambles shook his head. "Of that I cannot know. However, there are more ways for him to get his hands on Miss Farthington's inheritance than by a legal challenge. While she remains unwed, her fortune remains vulnerable."

Darcy stopped his pacing and regarded the man warily.

"Are you suggesting that Mr. Farthington would seek to wed Miss Farthington in order to gain her estate? I apologize, Mr. Brambles, but such a tactic seems rather farfetched."

"Have you not heard of fortune hunters, Mr. Darcy? Mr. Farthington, as far as I could determine, is unmarried. Also, Miss Farthington's estate makes her quite attractive to a certain set of men even if Mr. Farthington would not seek to marry her himself. The London gossip columns are already full of speculation about the new Farthington heir and her possible eligibility. I only bring this to your attention to caution you to take extra precautions in whom you allow to court Miss Farthington. Also, if you could arrange for a reputable gentleman to wed Miss Farthington, her estate would be secure."

Darcy mulled over this last bit of information. His cousin Fitzwilliam's intentions toward Mary began to look more desirable. While somewhat in need of a fortune of his own, Fitzwilliam was a good man and in no way a fortune hunter. Darcy was sure that his affection for Mary was genuine and that he had been honest in his pledge protect her. His objections to the match had been based on his desire to shield Mary from harm. He had not considered that encouraging the match could serve the same purpose.

"I thank you, Mr. Brambles. You have given me much to think on," Darcy stated as he firmly shook the man's hand. "Now, I am sure you are much desirous of the opportunity to refresh yourself after your long journey."

Darcy watched the gentleman depart his study before sitting behind his desk and refreshing his drink. While Darcy was still confident of the rightness of his objections to Fitzwilliam's suit, he began to realize that they were only one factor of many that he had to consider.

With the arrival of Mary's relations, the group for the house party was complete. Three days of planned activities and frivolity awaited them before the commencement of the ball. Upon meeting Richard's family, Mary had expected those three days to be quite a trial. Lady Letitia's animosity towards her and the Viscountess' scorn had been difficult to bear. Yet, the addition of the Petersons and Mr. Brambles to the party significantly lessened Mary's anxiety. After refreshing themselves briefly in their rooms, Beatrice and Derek joined Mary, Elizabeth, Georgiana and Fitzwilliam for tea and refreshments. They made quite a merry party, with Beatrice regaling a captivated Mary with stories about her late father from his childhood interspersed with anecdotes about Mary's escapades as a young girl that she had learned from Lord Farthington's frequent letters.

Elizabeth noted during this time how Georgiana's eyes often strayed from Beatrice and her animated story telling to admire Derek Peterson from who sat across the room debating politics with Richard. Elizabeth was pleased with Georgiana's apparent interest in the gentleman, as her sister had so seldom expressed any interest in eligible members of the opposite sex. While Georgiana was still young and Elizabeth had not inherited her mother's preoccupation with matchmaking, Elizabeth had begun to worry that Georgiana might be disinclined towards matrimony. She decided that she would do what she could to provide them both with ample opportunities to better know one another. Elizabeth made a mental note to alter the seating arrangements for dinner that night.

"That was very beautiful, Miss Farthington. You have very talented fingers."

"My lord, I had not noticed you," Mary exclaimed, startled by the presence of Richard's brother. She made to rise from her seat, but was stopped by the Viscount.

"Would you indulge me with one more song, Miss Farthington?" he asked as he crossed the room and came to stand behind her.

He busied himself with the music on the instrument before her, leafing through the offerings until he found a piece to his liking. Mary found herself growing uncomfortable by the closeness of the Viscount. She could feel the heat from his body on her back and the fabric of his coat brushed against her shoulder as he reached around her to select the music.

"Would you be so kind as to play this song, Miss Farthington. It is my particular favorite," the Viscount placed a few sheets of music on the stand before her, leaning down over her so that his breath fanned across her forehead.

"Of course," Mary replied, shuddering involuntarily.

"Thank you. I shall turn the pages for you," he announced as he sat at the instrument beside her.

"That…that is not necessary, my lord. I know this piece by heart," Mary offered, her voice catching strangely.

"Indulge me," the Viscount chuckled. "And please, no more 'my lord.' Gregory will do."

Mary stiffened at this request. There were very few gentlemen with whom she was so familiar. She did not feel comfortable addressing the Viscount by anything other than his title and she was scandalized by the request. Mary knew that she was expected to give the Viscount permission to address her in a similar manner, but all of her good breeding and intuition rebelled against the idea. Mary felt that the Viscount deserved a stiff reprimand at the insult, but she held her tongue and began playing instead.

Mary endeavored her best to attend to her playing, however she was ever conscious of the Viscount's close observation of her person. The gentleman gazed at her intently, his eyes moving from her own eyes to her lips before traveling lower.

"My lord, I feel that you are neglecting your duties as page turner," Mary informed him, keeping her eyes fixed on the keys before her.

The Viscount chuckled again, his face so near Mary that she could feel his bourbon scented breath on her cheek.

"You are performing admirably despite my inattention to the pages," he replied.

Mary could hear the leer in his voice and flinched involuntarily. Rather than recoiling at her response, the Viscount pressed himself closer to Mary.

"My lord," Mary pleaded, hoping to convey her discomfort but not knowing how to word her request that he cease his behavior. She felt as if she were frozen, confusion and a rising panic warring for control of her emotions.

"Gregory," he replied, abandoning all pretext of decorum and reaching towards her to fondle the simple necklace that adorned her neck. His fingers lightly grazed the top of her bosom, causing her to shudder in disgust.

"Are you cold, Mary?" he queried mockingly as he repeated the gesture, confusing her tremor for one of pleasure.

Mary stopped her playing and stood abruptly from the instrument.

"You should not address me so, my lord," Mary stated, her voice surprisingly firm.

The Viscount simply smiled at her, his eyes suspiciously bright. He stood as well, effectively blocking her exit from the room.

"How should I address you, Mary?" he asked as he stepped toward her. "Call me Gregory and I shall call you by whatever name you wish."

"Gregory!"

The Viscount turned to regard his brother standing in the doorway. His complexion was high and both of his hands were curled into fists as he stalked towards them.

"Richard," the Viscount replied brightly. "Miss Farthington and I were just discussing music."

Fitzwilliam looked at his brother, anger burning in his gaze. "I believe that your conversation was finished," he ground out.

The Viscount smirked as he observed his brother's barely concealed rage. Richard's mouth was set in a thin firm line, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glittering dangerously.

"Thank you for a most enlightening conversation, Miss Farthington," the Viscount said, his eyes never leaving Fitzwilliam's face. "I hope to continue our discussion another time."

Fitzwilliam glared at his brother before stepping aside and allowing him to pass.

Once he heard the door shut behind him, Fitzwilliam strode towards Mary and caught her up in a crushing embrace.

"Did he touch you?" he ground out through gritted teeth.

Mary shivered. She was relieved by his timely entrance and felt somewhat avenged by his ire. However, she had never seen Fitzwilliam so angry before and his aspect frightened her. The look in his eyes told Mary that he would gladly inflict physical violence upon his brother in that moment. Mary was ashamed to realize that she would gladly watch such a display.

"No, he did not compromise me."

Fitzwilliam released his hold upon her to catch her face in his hands. He searched her face before asking her again.

"Did he touch you?"

Mary looked into his eyes, which had begun to cool from anger to deep concern.

"Yes," she whispered.

The fire returned to his eyes.

"Please, Richard. I am alright," Mary smiled a watery smile as she brought her hands to cover his. "He merely touched my necklace, nothing more."

"He will not touch you again," Fitzwilliam stated firmly.

"No, he won't," Mary agreed.

She reached for him, twining her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck as she brought his face down to hers. She caressed his lips softly with her own, moving them delicately until he responded in kind. As the kiss deepened, Mary could almost feel his anger subsiding. His hands came to rest lightly on her waist and he pulled her flush against him as he feathered kisses across her cheek and jaw towards her neck. He stopped there, nuzzling her neck with his face.

"Forgive me, Mary."

"You are not responsible for the actions of others," Mary countered as she caressed his scalp with her fingers.

Richard sighed as he relaxed under her administrations.

They held each other for a few moments longer. Mary would have gladly remained in Fitzwilliam's embrace until the disgust and anger caused by the Viscount's actions had completely fled her.

"How do you do it?" Fitzwilliam questioned as he pulled back slightly from her embrace in order to look her in the eye.

"What do you mean?" Mary replied, a soft smile lighting her features.

"I had meant to comfort you and instead I am the one being consoled," he explained as he tucked a stray loc of hair behind her ear.

"Why would you think that this does not comfort me?"

Fitzwilliam smiled gently down at her before capturing her lips in another kiss.

"Are you truly well, Princess?"

"I will be."

Richard dressed for dinner with efficient haste. The image of a frightened yet determined Mary being accosted by his brother was firmly fixed in his mind's eye, causing his blood to boil anew. Richard had been aware of his brother, Gregory's past dalliances. When they were still young men living at Matlock, Gregory had taken a few maids to bed, one of whom had become with child and had to be sent away. Their father had been furious. However, his fury was not for the reasons Richard would have liked. Rather than punishing Gregory harshly, Lord Matlock had instead taken them both to London were he engaged the services of courtesans for each of them. Gentlemen of quality, his father had told them, do not force their attentions on lowly maids and instead engaged the services of professionals. Dealing with the bastard children that resulted from trysts with servants and the daughters of tenants caused unnecessary entanglements. However, courtesans knew how to plan for such risks of the trade.

Despite this lesson and Gregory's regular use of courtesans, stories still reached Richard's ears of his brothers continued dalliances with maids and young women who were similarly unprotected. Enraged over having to arrange for another young girl to be sent to Scotland and their family paid to remain silent, Lord Matlock had forced Gregory to marry or suffer the ignominy of being disinherited. Within six months Gregory was married to a woman of significant fortune and status who understood that the marriage was one of convenience. Gregory continued his affairs, although now he was much more discrete.

After checking his reflection in the mirror and determining that his appearance was acceptable, Colonel Fitzwilliam left his rooms with determined strides. After inquiring about the whereabouts of his brother from a servant, Fitzwilliam made his way to the billiards room.

"So, have you come to lecture me, little brother?" the Viscount questioned as he took a shot at the billiard's table, his eyes never rising from his task.

"I have come to do no such thing as it would only be a waste of breath," Fitzwilliam replied darkly as he stepped more fully into the room.

"You were always so self righteous when it came to such matters," the Viscount continued as if Fitzwilliam had never spoken. "You always behaved as it you were above such 'base' desires while you simpered and made love to half the ton."

"I have come to warn you, brother," Fitzwilliam spit out. "It would be better for you if you left Miss Farthington alone."

"And why would I do that? These house parties and balls are always such tedious affairs. I must have something with which to amuse myself and Mary is an obliging diversion."

"You are only to address her as Miss Farthington. I am sure that the lady made that very clear to you this night," Fitzwilliam stated firmly.

The Viscount let out a bark of laughter. "Lady Mary, indeed! I do not understand why you and Darcy are so keen to play along in this farce. Farthington was a bewitched fool to make slave his heir and attempt to make her a proper lady. It is all quite singular. Even my son is caught up in the delusion. Do you know he and the Darcy moppet call her a princess?"

"Brother, you would be wise to hold your tongue."

"You know, the only proper explanation that I have been able to come up with these past few days is that the chit is really his by-blow. I can hardly blame the old fool. The negro is known to be quite passionate..."

"You forget yourself, Gregory!" Fitzwilliam cut him off angrily as he stepped close to his brother, his color high. The Viscount regarded his brother closely, a conspiratorial look soon overtaking his features.

"It seems that I have struck a nerve. Perhaps this is not your usual prudishness, is it brother? No, it is not at all. I take it that you already know of what I speak. You always did have trouble sharing your toys as a child."

Fitzwilliam's fist connecting with the Viscount's jaw soon ended the discussion. Caught off guard, the Viscount fell to the floor from the force of the blow. Fitzwilliam stood over him, rage radiating off of him like a furnace.

"If you so much as think of touching her again, I shall forget that we are brothers. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly," the Viscount snarled.

Without another word, Fitzwilliam turned and left to join the others for dinner leaving his brother to nurse a sore jaw and ruminate over his brother's uncharacteristic behavior.

Chapter 15

Posted on September 29. 2009

The next day saw the house party in full swing. Various activities were planned to amuse the party throughout the day. The men were scheduled to indulge in a fox hunt with the ladies riding out to observe the proceedings. Darcy, Fitzwilliam, the Viscount and Mr. Peterson were to join a few gentlemen from neighboring estates. The ladies of the house were to accompany the gentlemen on horseback, save for Mary who did not ride, Beatrice who found hunting rather tiresome and Elizabeth, who had learned to ride since her marriage to Mr. Darcy but felt herself too poor a horsewoman to navigate her mount through the snow. Mary contented herself with sitting in Georgiana's room as she donned her riding habit in preparation for the morning's activity.

"You must be sure to tell me if anything interesting happens," Mary stated as she fiddled with a bit of ribbon. "I wish that I could ride out with you all."

Georgiana smiled at her friend. "It is I who envy you, Mary. I find watching the men hunt to be rather boring myself. Truly, I think we are only to accompany them to massage their egos and praise them for their masculine efforts."

Mary laughed at this, although she had to admit that she would not mind watching Richard ride through the snow, his mind bent to the task of capturing prey for the evening meal. Mary was broken from her thoughts by Georgiana's laughter.

"Hmm, I wager that I can guess the bent of your thoughts, Mary," Georgiana said smilingly, causing Mary's cheeks to warm with embarrassment. "I promise you, although it sounds rather romantic, there really is not much too it. I shall have to suffer the simpering of Letitia and the haughtiness of the Viscountess all on my own."

Mary frowned. Lady Letitia's attentions toward Richard were becoming a source of annoyance for Mary. She was thankful to be spared the spectacle of Letitia's insincere praise of Richard and her barely veiled insults towards herself.

"Well, at least you will have the opportunity to ride out with Mr. Peterson," Mary offered after a time. "And I am sure that some of the wives of the neighboring gentlemen will accompany you."

Mary was pleased to see Georgiana smile shyly at this.

"I am sure I will have little opportunity to converse with Mr. Peterson. Yet, perhaps the other ladies will provide some sort of buffer to Letitia and the Viscountess. If anything interesting should happen, I'll be sure to tell you of it."

Mary accompanied Georgiana down to the foyer where the party was assembling before the hunt. She smiled as her eyes met those of Richard. He returned her grin with a wide smile of his own and made his way towards her.

"It is unfortunate that you will be unable to join us, Miss Farthington."

"Yes, but as you are well aware, I do not ride and it cannot be helped."

"I suppose that it would be improper for you to share my stead as we did once before? I assure you that Beauregard is up to the challenge," Richard whispered, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Mary grew warm at the memory of being held securely to his body as they rode towards Pemberley, her fear of falling overriding any maidenly reserve that would have put distance between them.

"I fear that it would be quite difficult to maintain your grip upon your gun and my person," Mary replied in hushed tones.

Richard's heated look was Mary's reward for her boldness.

"It would seem that you have become quite the accomplished flirt, Princess," Richard whispered as he stared at her lips. "Lucky for you that the company and hour prevent me from delivering the punishment you deserve."

Mary gasped in genuine shock, earning a triumphant smile from Richard.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam," the honeyed voice of Lady Letitia sounded out, "Will you be so kind as to escort me to my mount?"

Richard winked at Mary surreptitiously before turning towards Lady Letitia.

"But of course, Lady Letitia. May I say how lovely you look?"

Letitia blushed and fluttered her lashes in a manner she thought becoming.

"You are too kind," she replied as she smoothed down her dark red riding habit. She threaded her arm around Richard's before pulling him towards the door, ignoring Mary's presence entirely.

Mary frowned as she watched them walk away.

"Oh, why the long face dear?" Beatrice asked as she came to stand beside Mary to watch the hunting party depart. "Trust me, we girls shall have a grand time here in the warmth of Pemberley. I couldn't give three straws about missing the chance to watch the men muck about in the snow."

"I am sure you are quite right," Mary replied with a small smile before taking Beatrice by the arm to walk to the solarium. Elizabeth had organized a late morning of painting for those who would not be attending the hunt. Mr. Brambles had been kind enough to offer to pose for them all. Mary and Beatrice were quite delighted at the sight that greeted them upon their arrival. Mr. Brambles stood by the fountain in the center of the room arrayed in the costume of a Roman god, a crown of ivy upon his head, a false beard upon his face and a staff in his hand.

"Apparently I am to be Zeus to Miss April's Hera," Mr. Brambles announced with a laugh.

Beatrice and Mary exchanged glances before erupting into laughter.

"Yes, it was a most impressive display," Lady Letitia went on. "Colonel Fitzwilliam is quite the accomplished rider and huntsman. Why, he caught two foxes himself and I am sure that he would have had even more success had it been earlier in the season."

"Well, enough talk of shooting things, Letitia," the Viscountess interrupted. "I should like to hear how you all entertained yourselves while we were away."

"We had a grand time of painting and indulging in hot chocolate," Beatrice supplied. "It was infinitely more pleasing that riding about in the snow."

"I take it that you don't ride, Miss Farthington," Lady Letitia addressed her, ignoring Beatrice's statement and her cousin's attempts to change the conversation.

"No, I never learnt," Mary replied with a smile. "The carriage and my own two feet were always sufficient means of transport in New Sussex."

Elizabeth chuckled. "I was of the same opinion, Mary, until I married Mr. Darcy and was cajoled into taking lessons. I still prefer to walk, but I must own that there is much enjoyment to be had in a good brisk ride."

"Every lady of breeding knows how to ride, Miss Farthington," Lady Letitia continued, insensible or uncaring of the insult to her hostess. "It is regrettable that your guardian overlooked that aspect of your education."

Mary felt her anger rise from deep in her belly at this insult to herself and her father. She made to reply but was cut off by Beatrice's conciliatory tones.

"When you come to us in Brighton this summer, I am sure my Derek would be delighted to teach you, Mary. I have the gentlest mare that would do quite nicely."

"I thank you, Beatrice. I shall consider it."

Lunch continued much in the same vein with Lady Letitia offering various thinly veiled insults towards Mary with Beatrice, Georgiana and Elizabeth doing their best to deflect the barbs. Mary was quite relieved when the luncheon was concluded and the ladies were permitted to separate and indulge in individual amusements.

Being much desirous of fresh air, Mary took the opportunity to take a walk. As snow still covered most of the grounds, Mary was obliged to confine her walk to the rose garden paths that had been cleared of snow. Donning a heavy wool cloak, Mary set out for the gardens at a fast pace delighting in the feel of the cold air against her cheeks and the warmth of exertion that spread through her person. After walking for a short time, Mary was delighted to encounter her cousin Derek Peterson on the path ahead of her. Mary called to him and Derek turned to regard her with a delighted smile.

"Cousin! What an unexpected pleasure," Derek stated happily as he offered his arm. "I had thought that you would be indulging in an afternoon of beauty sleep like the rest of the ladies."

Mary smiled brightly at the appellation. She still found herself inordinately pleased to be someone's cousin. "Are you suggesting that I am in need of beauty sleep, Cousin?"

"Heaven's no," Derek responded with mock horror. "Indeed, if you took much more rest your beauty would be so great as to render us all blind and dumb."

Mary laughed. "Did you have much success in the hunt, cousin? According to Lady Letitia, Colonel Fitzwilliam shot the entire pack of foxes single handedly."

Derek grinned sheepishly. "Well, I fear that the lady exaggerates. But, no, I did not have much luck in the hunt. Can I share a confidence with you, Mary?" He whispered, looking around him dramatically for eavesdroppers.

"Of course. I trust it is not so dastardly as all that."

"I hate the sight of blood. Indeed, I abhor hunting altogether. Except for the necessity of putting meat on the table, I cannot understand the amusement one is supposed to derive from running down some poor frightened creature."

"That is not so very a bad thing. Actually, I think it quite noble. It shows that you have a kind soul and a good heart."

Derek blushed. "Well, it is a not a thing to be so proud of if you are striving to be a proper gentleman. It seems that every amusement designed for gentleman centers around fisticuffs or pistols of some sort."

"Well, your secret is safe with me," Mary laughed as she patted her cousin's arm.

"It is fortunate that we should meet on this path," Derek began after a few minutes of amicable silence. "I was just lamenting the lack of opportunity to converse with you properly. I fear that my good mother has selfishly kept you to herself our entire visit."

"Beatrice is a dear sweet woman. I am so happy to have had the opportunity to meet you both. I know so little about my father's family. On New Sussex it was just the two of us. Granted, my father spoke of you and your mother, but not in great detail and he did not mention other family members. I could not even get him to speak much of my mother. I suppose the subject brought him too much pain."

"Well, I shall endeavor to rectify that. Ask me any question at all and I shall answer to the best of my ability."

"I know that your mother is Lord Farthington's first cousin. However, I have not heard him speak of any other cousins or siblings. Does your mother have brothers or sisters?"

"Well, Lord Farthington was an only child, so it is only natural that he did not speak of any siblings," Derek began. "I believe he had a sister Caroline that died in infancy after whom you were presumably named. My mother had a brother who passed away without a family of his own. My mother is your father's first cousin, as you know. She was born to Lady Gertrude Lawrence, the sister of Lord Farthington's father Robert. Robert Farthington had another sibling who moved to the America's and started a family there. However, I do not know much about that branch of the family tree."

Mary looked thoughtfully at her cousin for a moment. "Do you know where in the America's my father's uncle settled?"

"If my memory serves me, I believe he settled in the colony of Virginia."

Mary gasped. "My mother was born in Virginia."

"Indeed? It could be possible that she was connected to the family somehow…other than through your father, of course. However, as I said, I know very little about that branch of the family; only that there exists a great deal of bad blood between their side and ours."

They walked in silence for a while as Mary considered all that Derek had told her. She knew from her father that her mother had been a slave but he had never said from whom he had liberated her. Before Mary could consider the puzzle much longer, Derek began to ask her questions about her life on New Sussex and her time in England so far. Interspersed were subtle inquiries concerning Miss Darcy, which Mary answered with enthusiasm. They were thus happily engaged until the cold weather and the hour bid them return to the house.

Dinner that evening found Mary again separated from Fitzwilliam, much to her displeasure. He was seated to the left of Lady Letitia at the far end of the table. Upon looking toward Elizabeth, Mary noted her own confusion as to the arrangements that evening. However, she was heartened to be seated near Georgiana who offered her an encouraging smile when she caught her eye. They both conversed happily with Mr. Peterson and Mr. Brambles until the end of the meal and the separation of the sexes.

The interval between their separation and the men rejoining their party was blissfully short. Elizabeth had planned a series of entertainments for the evening. The party was to engage in a round of charades, a game to which Mr. Darcy appeared strangely adept. Mary could barely control the fit of giggles that sought to overtake her at the sight of Mr. Darcy attempting to act out The Marriage of Figaro. Following charades, the party broke off into various card games while Mary and Georgiana made silhouettes of whomever was willing to sit for them. Mary made no effort to suppress the smile that crossed her features upon noting Georgiana's becoming blush when Mr. Peterson sat for his silhouette.

"Miss Farthington," Colonel Fitzwilliam addressed her as she finished taking Elizabeth's silhouette. "Would you do me the honor of allowing me to take your silhouette?"

"I thought that silhouette making was a woman's occupation?" Elizabeth teased as she quitted her seat before the screen.

"As my brother can attest, growing up in a house full of unruly brothers were our antics often found us confined to the nursery, we learned to take up a number of pastimes usually thought of as being fully in the province of women."

"Good God, Richard. There are some stories from our childhood that should not be bandied about," the Viscount protested from his seat at the whist table across the room.

"Now I am intrigued," Elizabeth laughed. "I must hear all!"

"My brother would have me swear to secrecy, but I will confess a few exploits if it will please Miss Farthington," Fitzwilliam offered as he took Mary by the hand and led her to the seat Elizabeth had just vacated.

"I must confess that I am intrigued as well. Do tell us one story if it would not bring your brother too much pain."

Fitzwilliam squeezed her hand briefly before planting a kiss on her fingers. "If it will bring my Princess pleasure than I am obliged to comply."

Mary ducked her head in embarrassment, so sure was she that the entire room heard his comment. When she looked up her eyes met the narrowed gaze of the Viscountess.

"When we were quite young, I but six years old to the exalted Viscount's twelve years, we took much delight in terrorizing the scullery maids by secreting frogs, snakes and other creatures obnoxious to females into the kitchens. These deeds often found us confined indoors during choice spring and summer weeks with most of our toys taken from us. So, to pass the time we took up needlepoint and embroidery of cushions."

The room broke out in laughter at this pronouncement.

"Next you shall declare that we took up lace making," the Viscount protested with mock outrage.

"If I remember correctly, your work was quite good," Darcy commented. "I remember one occasion when I mistook one of Richard's pillows to be Anne's handiwork."

"And I am not ashamed to accept the compliment. I was quite accomplished for my age," Fitzwilliam replied as he seated himself in Mary's former chair. "I do not think my skills at the silhouette are quite as refined and I have been out of practice these last fifteen years, but I shall make a go of it. Besides, this provides me with an excellent excuse to closely observe an example of feminine beauty without fear of censure."

Mary's cheeks heated anew at this pronouncement and she was unable to mask the pleased smile that broke out over her face. Mary's face did not return to its normal temperature for the duration of her sitting. Fitzwilliam made a great show of correcting her posture and adjusting the tilt of her chin or the set of her shoulders with his hand. Whenever she happened to move out of position in the slightest he would make a great deal of protest about her movements reducing the quality of his work and how he was obliged to begin again. This would lead to another round of posture and position adjustments that most of the party found quite diverting. In total, Mary's silhouette took a full hour and a half to complete. Elizabeth and Georgiana declared the finish product to bear an uncanny resemblance to their friend.

The party dispersed to their respective quarters after the eleventh hour. Mary went to bed pleasantly tired and filled with expectation for the coming day of amusement.

Darcy sat in bed watching his wife brush out her long chestnut locks by the fire. They were still wet from her bath and the heat of the fire slowly dried them as she worked the boar bristled brush through the strands. While her maid could have easily and happily handled the task, Elizabeth insisted on completing it herself especially as she knew that her husband derived much pleasure from watching the activity.

"Fitzwilliam. I was wondering if you could solve a conundrum that has been perplexing me all evening."

Darcy did not have to see the arch of her brow to know that his wife was not pleased with the alleged conundrum and that said conundrum was not perplexing in the least.

"I am at your service," Darcy replied as he sat up straighter in the bed.

"This house party and upcoming ball has been the work of many weeks. The planning of where to house whom, what to serve for the meals and teas, what flowers to have brought in from the hothouse and where to place them, the choice of dinnerware, the entertainments…Well, I am sure you can begin to see how much work and detail has gone into this event."

"Of course, my dear. And may I say that the party has been a splendid success so far."

"Thank you, my dear. I know. You can understand then, that any derivation from the plan does not go unnoticed and can in fact cause a great deal of distress. Why, this very evening the seating arrangements during dinner were different from what I had so carefully planned. Lady Letitia was moved from beside the Viscount to be seated to the right of Richard while Richard, who had been seated to the left of Mary, was moved to the left of Letitia. This left their side of the table to be seated girl, boy, boy, girl, girl, boy. Not to mention, I was left with at least two dinner guests who enjoyed the meal to a considerably lesser degree than they would have under the planned arrangement. This happened tonight as well as the night before. What could have possibly gone wrong?"

Darcy squirmed slightly under the covers. "Well, as I am sure you have already determined, I altered the seating arrangements."

"Yes, I know. What I do not understand is why you chose to do so. Was not the planning of the house party and ball to be completely under my direction?"

"Yes, you are quite right and I apologize for not consulting you before I made the changes."

"Well, I cannot determine if I should accept your apology, husband, until I know why you changed the seating."

Darcy sighed. He knew that Elizabeth would not like his explanation.

"I placed Richard next to Letitia because I did not think it proper for Richard to be always seated next to Mary especially given our expanded party."

Elizabeth stopped her brushing and turned to face her husband, her aspect anything but pleased.

"And why would it be improper for Mary to merely sit next to Richard during an evening meal?"

"Come, Elizabeth. You know my objections to the match. While I promised to consider it further, I did not promise to encourage them," Darcy explained as he quit the bed and walked towards his wife. "Besides, Lady Letitia would be an excellent match for Richard and I thought that he should be given the opportunity to consider his options before making his choice."

"Lady Letitia is vapid and spoiled, as you well know, and Richard merely tolerates her for the sake of his brother."

"Elizabeth!"

"Well, it is the truth! That would be a horrible match no matter the amount of fortune or connections Letitia would bring to the union. Richard would be miserable."

"Well, it does not signify because it is clear to me that Richard has already made his choice and from his behavior tonight he shows no signs of concealing his preference from his brother's family," Darcy continued as he took the brush from his wife's hands to complete the task.

"Oh, Richard was just engaging in some harmless fun for which I am grateful. Everyone found it very diverting. Mary did not appear to enjoy herself very much today until after dinner, which is a shame because this party is really for her."

"Is it merely for her amusement, Elizabeth, or are you engaged in some matchmaking scheme of your own?"

Elizabeth made to protest but Darcy merely waived her off.

"What is done is done. I begin to see that my interference will do little to dissuade him and Mary seems to accept his attentions with pleasure. I have also began to reconsider my opposition to the match…"

Elizabeth clapped happily at this pronouncement and made to embrace her husband.

"Please, Elizabeth, hear me out. I have only begun to reconsider; I have not yet decided to grant Richard the permission he seeks. I still maintain that should they marry they will face a great deal of opposition from our relations and society at large. It would not be an easy marriage and Richard would have to give up much to which he has become accustomed. What I had not considered is the sort of protection Richard might bring Mary through their union. There is some information that Mr. Brambles shared with me the other day of which you should be made aware."

Elizabeth listened to Darcy's explanation with increasing alarm.

"Is Mr. Brambles quite certain that Mary would be in danger from these relatives?"

"No, he only speculates. He fears that her estate rather than her person would be the likely targets of their ill will. There is no need to be alarmed. Now that we are aware that there exists those who would do Mary harm, we can take steps to protect her and her estate," Darcy sighed as he ran the brush through her curls.

"I had considered that Mary would be the target of fortune hunters once she is introduced in London but I admit that this did not factor into my reasoning regarding Richard's intentions. We know Richard to be an honorable man who has sincere affection for Mary. Also, while he has no fortune of his own, he is not desperate for funds."

"You must also allow that the union would make Mary and Richard very happy indeed," Elizabeth.

"Of course. Yet, all this still does not outweigh the trouble such a union would bring them both. And besides, I am sure there are a few honorable gentlemen of our acquaintance whom would be adequate matches for Mary whom also have the benefit of a relatively inconspicuous social status."

Elizabeth thought to argue the point with her husband but chose to hold her tongue. The very fact that Fitzwilliam was considering the advantages of a marriage between Richard and Mary was a great deal of progress.

"Fitzwilliam, can you please promise not to alter the arrangements I have made for this house party or the ball without consulting me first?"

"Yes, dear," Darcy replied as he leaned towards his wife to give her an apologetic kiss. He was grateful that this seemed to be the end of the discussion.

Mary ran through the halls of Pemberley with as much dignity as she could muster. The party was engaged in a game of sardines and she did not have long before Elizabeth would be done with her counting. Mary was determined to find an excellent hiding place and emerge victorious. She knew this would not be an easy feat, as Elizabeth surely knew the best hiding places in her own home. They had the entire house save for the servant's quarters, kitchens and laundry at their disposal. Here and there she could see the other partygoers ducking into various rooms and broom closets. Even the children were allowed to partake in the afternoon's entertainments. Sir Little Bits and Sir Kelvin had chosen the more obvious place of Mr. Darcy's study to hide.

Mary ran up several flights of stairs to hide in the less used fourth floor guest rooms. She was very surprised that none of the other players were choosing a similar hiding place. Making sure that she wasn't being followed, Mary ducked inside a vacant guest room and made for the armoire in the corner of the room. After several minutes of hiding, Mary heard the door to the room creak open and shut. Sure that she would be found, Mary held her breath so as not to make a sound.

"Really, I do not know why we have to participate in these childish amusements."

"We must strive to be obliging guests, Letitia. Besides, what did you expect from a woman who has spent all of her life in the country? I am sure in Meryton or whatever hamlet Darcy found her in that this is the height of sophisticated entertainment."

The Viscountess and Lady Letitia shared a bit of derisive laughter.

"Besides, soon this family will be your own family and you know that the Colonel is inordinately fond of Darcy and his country bride. You shall have to learn to endure these family gatherings a few times out of the year."

Mary gasped audibly before quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

"Of course you are right, Daniela. However, when we are finally wed I hope to limit our attendance of such gatherings. I do wish that Richard would hurry and speak with papa. This long understanding is so tiresome. I do not understand his need for delay or secrecy."

"Oh, Letitia dear, I do understand your impatience. However, you must understand the ways of the world. Richard is still relatively young and a military man. I am sure that he is just indulging in his last bit of fun before settling down in a life of respectability. Besides, few men are able to resist the allure of an exotic."

"Yes, it is quite abhorrent how he carries on with that Farthington girl," Letitia replied with a huff. "You would think he would be more discrete with his arrangements."

"I am sure that he usually is, my dear. Darcy would not knowingly allow him to carry on a flirtation with his ward. He is such a stickler for decorum. Perhaps he just had a bit too much to drink while the gentlemen were separated."

"Perhaps you are right, cousin. You are always so wise about such things. However, I shall speak to him about his behavior. If we are to marry he must know what I expect of him."

"Come, Letitia. Let's find another hiding place. I fear that we shall be at this game forever if we remain here."

Mary listened as Lady Letitia and the Viscountess exited the room. Once she was sure that she was alone, Mary stepped out of the armoire on shaky legs. Gathering as much composure as she could muster, she quietly made her way from the room towards her own by way of the servant's stairs so as she would not be found. She no longer cared much for participating in the game. When she arrived, she rang for April and instructed her to tell Elizabeth that she was not well and would be resting for the remainder of the afternoon in her rooms.

Once she was alone, Mary allowed herself to give way to her tears. She could not credit what she had heard but she could not discredit it either. What purpose would Lady Letitia and her cousin have in concocting such a story to tell among themselves. She did not think that the ladies were delusional and there was no way they would have known she was secreted away in the armoire. Mary was sure that she was not followed when she chose her hiding place.

However, Mary could not believe that the alternative was true: that Richard had deceived her so completely. All of his actions and words to her where made with such sincerity and depth of emotion. He had pledged his heart to her. Yet, it had been several weeks and he had not spoken to Mr. Darcy to seek his consent to the match. They did not have a formal courtship arrangement and there had been no proposal. If his heart were truly her own, why the need for secrecy? Elizabeth's warning and Georgiana's accusation returned fresh to her memory.

Mary flushed with shame at the liberties that she had allowed him. While he had not taken her as a mistress outright, if their activities were known she would be thoroughly compromised. How foolish she had been!

Mary wept for many minutes before she was interrupted by a knock at the door. Mary hastily wiped her face dry before bidding her visitor to enter.

"Mary, April said that you are unwell," Elizabeth said as she made her way to the bedside, Georgiana and Beatrice in tow. "Should I send for the doctor?"

"No, Elizabeth. I…I just have a headache. I merely need to rest," Mary replied truthfully. She had wept herself into quite a nasty headache.

"Have you been weeping, dearie?" Beatrice inquired, her face drawn in concern.

Mary shook her head in denial. "I just need some rest, that is all."

Elizabeth and Georgiana exchanged a doubtful look.

"I will have cook send up some tea and I will check on you in a few hours. If you are not much improved, I will call Dr. Roberts no matter what you say."

Mary sighed before nodding her acceptance.

"Rest well, Mary." Georgiana kissed her friend on the forehead before leaving the room with Elizabeth.

Beatrice shared a discrete nod with Elizabeth before moving towards the side table where she wet a cloth with the pitcher and basin before seating herself on the bed beside Mary. She silently took the cool cloth and gently wiped Mary's cheeks, brow and eyes. Mary sighed under the ministrations.

"I shall be fine, Beatrice. You should not miss out on the rest of the afternoon's amusements on my account."

"Pish, posh," Beatrice tutted as she set aside the cloth to stroke Mary's head. "I would much rather be up here with you. Elizabeth and Georgiana are lovely women, but I will gladly avoid the pleasure of the Superior Cousin's company any day."

Beatrice laughed lightly until she noticed that Mary had begun to cry anew.

"What is the matter, dear?"

Mary shook her head in the negative, finding it too difficult to speak.

"I may not have had any daughters of my own, but I was once a young lady of not quite twenty myself. Come, child, you can tell me what is wrong. I promise to keep everything in the utmost confidence. I cannot be easy knowing that you are so miserable."

"Oh Beatrice, I have been so foolish!" Mary sobbed.

Beatrice merely coaxed Mary to rest her head in her lap and tell her everything as she continued to pat her head and back. Mary revealed the entire tale, from her first meeting with Colonel Fitzwilliam to the overheard conversation that shattered her entire world. Beatrice listened without interruption and refrained from speaking until Mary's sobs had quieted and she lay limply in her lap. She dared not offer any admonishments for Mary's behavior as Mary heaped plenty upon herself.

Lady Letitia practically floated into the Viscountess' rooms.

"Oh, Daniela, your plan worked better than you anticipated," Letitia trilled as she fell upon the settee.

"Do comport yourself with some dignity," the Viscountess chided her cousin as she dismissed her maid and finished placing her jewelry herself.

"Miss Farthington has become unwell and shall not be joining us for dinner. She must have believed every word we said!"

"As I knew she would. She is really just a simple girl and too trusting by far. I must give you some credit, Letitia, for seeing what I had refused to notice until last night. You can rest easy now knowing that the chit won't presume to aspire to catch the Colonel's interest. If his intentions towards her were honorable, she will now have none of it being convinced he is a cad."

"It is all so perfect," Letitia laughed before sobering quickly. "But, are you very sure that he won't learn of our trickery?"

"How would he know? Miss Farthington will most likely be too ashamed to confront him and if she does, she would hardly admit to eavesdropping."

The Viscountess rose and smoothed out her skirts.

"Now everything is up to you, Letitia. You must secure him."

"Oh, but the house party is almost over and even if Miss Farthington is no longer a concern, there is still no guarantee that he will take notice of me. Stupid man."

"Now, now Letitia. That is no way to speak of your fiancée. You still have one more day of the house party and the ball to secure him. Mrs. Darcy had planned a few activities perfect for matchmaking. Tomorrow we shall just do a bit of arranging of our own to throw you into each other's company."

Chapter 16

Posted on October 20, 2009

"Oh Mary, my child. I do feel your pain," Beatrice soothed as she continued to stroke Mary's hair. "However, everything might not be so terrible as you have thought. I may not know Colonel Fitzwilliam very well, but he strikes me as an honorable man who is very much enamored with you. I just cannot imagine such a pleasant man betrothing himself to such a harpy! There must be another explanation."

Mary's lips formed a brittle smile at Beatrice's choice of words. While Lady Letitia may not have quite been a harpy, she was a rather unpleasant and mean sort of woman and Fitzwilliam had never shown much interest in her. Mary's heart also rebelled at the very notion that Fitzwilliam would purposefully use her in such a way.

"Lady Letitia did say that the engagement was long standing and secret. Perhaps Richard pledged himself to her when he was very young. It may be that Lady Letitia was much more pleasant then."

Beatrice gave a very unladylike snort at that. "I have met women like Lady Letitia before. If they are vicious harpies at five and twenty they were also ill tempered as youths! No. I wouldn't trust a single word that passed through those painted lizard lips."

Mary laughed out right at this, lifting her head from Beatrice's lap.

"Beatrice, you are quite wicked," Mary replied as she wiped her wet cheeks and shook her head. "I would like to believe that every word she spoke was a lie. Indeed, I would. However, I cannot see why they would speak in private to each other in such a way. Richard has also made his intentions towards me quite clear yet he still has not proposed nor spoken with Mr. Darcy."

"I told you that I have known harpies like Lady Letitia and the Viscountess before. When they are in pursuit of a husband there is no limit to their schemes."

Beatrice turned to face Mary, taking both of her hands into her own.

"However, I must be frank with you, Mary. It is not proper that you continue this clandestine courtship with the Colonel. I know that you mean well and that your love for him is sincere. I also believe that he may sincerely care for you as well. Do not loose all faith just yet. I advise you to speak with him and ask him when he plans to speak with Mr. Darcy. If he continues to prevaricate or gives some excuse as to why he cannot do so, then you must do what is right and end things then and there."

Mary nodded her head in acceptance. She knew that Beatrice was right. She only prayed that she would have the strength to walk away if the situation called for it.

"Please do not tell Mr. Darcy, Beatrice. I've only spoken with you and Georgiana about Richard. I know I have acted foolishly. I could not bear for Mr. Darcy to know and look on me with disappointment."

"I will not speak with Mr. Darcy, Mary. You have my word. But please, I cannot bear to hear you speak so harshly of yourself. You are still a young woman and you have had to handle your first love without the benefit of a mother to guide you. On top of all this, you have had to deal with two harridans."

Mary smiled again.

"So, no more self abuse, dear girl," Beatrice continued as she hugged her close. "If you have need of me, you only need to ask. I do enjoy giving advice."

With that, Beatrice quit the bed and went to her own rooms to prepare for the evening meal. Although speaking with Beatrice improved her spirits somewhat, Mary did not feel up to the task of enduring another dinner with Lady Letitia's smug looks and thinly veiled insults. Nor could she endure Richard's heated glances or compliments.

"Princess," little William cried as he ran towards Mary. "Momma said that you had a hurt head and that you needed to sleep. Is your head all better?"

Mary laughed as she stooped down to hug the small child. "Yes, my head is all better, Sir Little Bits. I would not miss fireworks for the world!"

Fitzwilliam watched in contentment as William led Mary into the room, pulling her along by the hand towards the windows where the rest of the party was gathered. As the evening's entertainment was special and the noise would have woken the children anyway, William and Ronald were allowed to enjoy the spectacle with the adults.

He smiled as he walked towards her and offered her his arm.

"I am pleased that you are well enough to join us, Miss Farthington. Your presence was missed at dinner."

His smiled slipped from his face as Mary mumbled her thanks and continued to walk with William, her eyes downcast.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam," Lady Letitia purred as she made her way towards him. "Is this not a lovely bit of amusement?'

Fitzwilliam swallowed a groan before turning towards her and offering a placid smile. "Quite."

"Shall we join the others?" Letitia asked as she threaded her arm through his.

Fitzwilliam nodded absently as he continued to watch Mary. She stood surrounded by the children and her relations. Mrs. Peterson noticed his perusal and met his stare with one of her own. She frowned at him most openly before turning back towards the window and wrapping one arm about Mary's shoulders in a motherly fashion. Before Fitzwilliam could wonder at the action, the fireworks began and he found himself pulled hurriedly towards the windows by Lady Letitia.

Despite the spectacle of the fireworks display before him, Fitzwilliam's gaze remained fixed on Mary. For her part, she endeavored to ignore his pointed stares, looking at him once, only to blanche as her eyes came to rest on Lady Letitia who clutched unpleasantly to his arm. He wondered where had gone his teasing girl of the day before. He longed to speak with her privately but found no opportunity that evening to do so. Yet again he lamented the fact that he lacked the privileges of a fiancé.

After the fireworks, the party gathered to partake of hot cider and cakes with the exception of the children as Elizabeth despaired them ever falling asleep should they be provided sugar to further fuel their excitement.

"I find that I am quite tired," Mary announced to the room as a maid gathered the children for bed. "If Sir Little Bits and Sir Kelvin so wish, I could tell them one story to usher them off to bed."

"Oh, yes please! A story would be most wonderful," Ronald pleaded as William bounced up and down.

"Are you sure that you are quite up to it, Miss Farthington? Perhaps you should rest instead," Fitzwilliam offered with genuine concern. He could find no other explanation for her peculiar behavior.

"I am quite fit for a story, I assure you," Mary replied in a clip tone, looking him in the eye for the first time that evening.

Fitzwilliam was stunned by both her tone and the look of anger in her eyes. He was about to make another protestation before Mrs. Peterson interrupted him.

"I could do with a bit more rest myself, dear. Let me help you with the young gentlemen. I should like to hear one of your famous stories myself," Beatrice said with a smile.

Mary smiled at her gratefully before taking William by the hand. Fitzwilliam watched dumbfounded as Mary and Beatrice bid them farewell for the evening.

The Viscountess Daniela examined herself in the mirror, adjusting her nightgown and pinching color into her pale cheeks. Her auburn hair was loose about her shoulders and down her back, the thick curls arranged in such a way as to appear most enticing. Her bosom was freshly powdered and her best perfume delicately applied to her wrists and behind her ears. As she examined the pleasing picture before her, she sighed dramatically. She hoped that her cousin came to appreciate the depths of her affection for her. She disliked asking anything of her husband almost as much as she disliked sharing his bed. However, Letitia was not getting any younger and she had to marry. For reasons that the Viscountess still could not understand, Letitia was determined to have Richard Fitzwilliam, despite his position as a second son with average looks. While her plans to remove the threat of the Farthington chit had been a splendid success so far, more drastic intervention was needed to secure the Colonel. So, as a devoted cousin, the Viscountess felt it was her duty to do all that was in her power to secure the future happiness of her beloved Letitia. After adjusting the scandalously low-cut bodice of her nightgown one last time, she made her way towards her husband's chambers.

The Viscountess bore the caresses and vigorous attentions of her husband with feigned impatient desire. Thankfully, her husband's attentions were of a short duration. As they lay in bed, her husband content in the afterglow of their activities, the Viscountess made her move. She sighed dramatically.

"What is the matter, Poppet?" the Viscount asked sleepily as he fondled one of her silken locks.

The Viscountess cringed inwardly at her husband's endearment. "I am simply worried about our dear Letitia. She has been so despondent lately. I had hoped that this little party would cheer her, but I fear that it has just brought her pain."

"How so?" the Viscount asked distractedly as his wife lazily traced patterns on his chest.

"I had thought that being in the company of our dear brother would cheer her. You know how she admires him so. But I am afraid that he has quite ignored her, much to Letitia's regret."

"Ah. Miss Mary does provide an enticing distraction. I daresay my brother is quite besotted with her. He absolutely refuses to share."

The Viscountess' movements stilled for a moment. She had not known of her husband's interest in that slip of a girl. However, she had known his tastes to always venture into the exotic and new. Of course he would desire to pluck a hothouse flower. The Viscountess resumed her languid attentions to her husband. His interest in the girl could prove useful.

"If only Miss Farthington were somehow out of the way, I know Richard would pay Letitia the attention that she so craves."

"What can be done for it?" the Viscount asked as he grew restless under his wife's traveling fingers. "My brother has never shown any interest in your cousin."

"I know," the Viscountess replied as her questing hands slipped beneath the covers. "However, if we gave them a moment alone, Letitia would at least have an opportunity to catch his eye. And perhaps…"

"Yes?" the Viscount prodded, his voice roughened with reawakened desire.

"Ad perhaps you could have a moment alone with Miss Mary. Away from prying eyes and uninterrupted."

"What would you have me do?"

Mary dressed herself with care for the afternoon's planned entertainments. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had arranged for the party to take part in a sleigh ride tour of Pemberly's grounds and of local points of interest in the vicinity. Mary hoped to use the sleigh rides as a chance to speak with Fitzwilliam. She would take Beatrice's advice and learn the truth for herself. After breakfast, Beatrice had informed her that Elizabeth had arranged the groupings for the sleigh rides so that Mary would be paired in a sleigh with Richard with Beatrice acting as their chaperone. Beatrice conspired to delay their sleigh so that it would be the last to depart and then to make herself scarce at the last moment before their departure so that she and Richard could speak in private. Mary thought the plan was rather clever.

The party was all gathered in the foyer being assisted by various staff members in donning warm attire for the afternoon's sleigh ride. Young William and Ronald chatted excitedly as they shrugged into their winter coats. Mary accepted a hug from each boy as she entered in the foyer.

"Will you ride with us, Princess?" William asked excitedly. "I can show you my favorite hiding places in the spring, but I think the snow may have hidden them all."

"I would love to see your hiding places, Sir Little Bits, but I think that your mother has assigned me to another sleigh. But, when the weather is warm and the grass is green, I promise to go with you to all your hiding places."

William pouted dramatically before running over to his mother to ask that Mary be put in his sleigh as the Princess would need the protection of her knights.

"Does not your queen require your protection, William?" Elizabeth replied, with a smirk.

"You will have Papa to protect you. But who will protect the Princess from bandits and thieves?"

"You and Ronald are surely not the only knights pledged to the Princess?" Elizabeth replied.

"No," William answered as he looked down thoughtfully. "Sir Gallant can protect the Princess!"

Elizabeth watched William run over to his uncle with a bemused expression before walking over to Mary who stood laughing as she watched the scene unfold.

"I suppose that Colonel Fitzwilliam is Sir Gallant?" Elizabeth asked smilingly.

"Yes," Mary replied, her cheeks warm with embarrassment. "As a knight of my realm he required a proper name. I thought that Sir Gallant suited him."

"Indeed it does," Elizabeth agreed as she squeezed Mary's hand fondly.

Shortly thereafter, the entire party made their way to the carriages. Mary looked around for Fitzwilliam as she was handed into the equipage by a footman. Beatrice stood by the sleigh engaged in a similar search. Soon, all but Mary's sleigh and that of Lady Letitia remained.

"I'll go and see what's keeping him, dear," Beatrice offered before walking back into the house.

Mary sat in the sleigh for several moments, snuggly wrapped in furs. She used the minutes alone to think over what she planned to say to Fitzwilliam and to steady her nerves. Her stomach rebelled at the fearful thought that Fitzwilliam would only confirm what Lady Letitia and the Viscountess had said. She wondered if she would indeed have the strength to let him go if that was the case. The feel of the sleigh dipping under the weight of a new occupant broke her from her reverie. Mary turned expecting Fitzwilliam before starting at the sight of the Viscount entering the sleigh.

"Your Lordship!" Mary exclaimed.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting, Mary," said the Viscount as he settled into the seat across from her. "And, we agreed that you would address me as Gregory."

"Where is Richard?" Mary asked, looking around frantically as the sleigh began to move.

"Ah, he is riding with Lady Letitia," the Viscount replied with a smile. "He asked me to switch places with him as he needed to discuss some private matter. I confess that I leapt at the opportunity of being in your fair company, Mary."

Mary regarded him with a look of contempt and disbelief.

"Richard would not do such a thing," she retorted hotly, remembering his anger following her previous encounter with the Viscount. "I demand that you turn this sleigh around at once!"

"Oh, but we have barely left sight of the house, Mary, and I so looked forward to your company."

Mary began to grow uneasy under the Viscount's rapacious smile. "Driver, please return us to the house at once!"

"That will never do," the Viscount replied after the driver ignored Mary's demand. "You see, Sam is under my employ and I do not wish to end our lovely ride so soon."

Mary sat with her mouth agape, disbelieving the Viscount's audacity.

"Well, I do wish to end our ride. If you are a gentleman, you will instruct your servant to return us to the house at once."

The Viscount laughed. "Oh, I am afraid that your notion of what makes a gentleman is woefully limited, Mary. I am a gentleman, but I have no intention of returning you to the house just yet."

The Viscount quit his seat across from Mary to sit beside her in the sleigh. Mary's anger soon gave way to fear and she clutched the furs tightly to her body.

"What do you want with me?" Mary asked, her voice wavering slightly.

"Only to spend time in your lovely presence, Mary."

"You do not have leave to call me by my Christian name, my lord," Mary replied as she inched further away from the Viscount.

"Gregory, Mary. Gregory. I do not wish to tell you again," he replied as he closed the distance between them.

"If I call you Gregory will you return me to the house?"

"Perhaps," he replied distractedly. "It is quite cold, Mary. Will you not share the furs with me?"

"That would not be proper, Gregory. There are furs enough for you on the other side of the sleigh."

The Viscount smiled at Mary's capitulation. "Oh, but I prefer to share with you, Mary."

The Viscount lifted a corner of the furs from Mary's body and slid underneath as he pulled Mary against him.

"Much better," he commented. "I begin to see my brother's fascination with you. You are so bewitching in your feigned innocence. But I know that passions run deep in your people."

"I…I don't know what you mean. Please, release me. This is not proper," Mary pleaded.

"Whatever my brother has offered you, I can more than double, Mary. Come to me this season in London and I will lavish you with luxuries and attentions that my staid and poor brother could never offer. I have a little house in London with servants who are paid to be discrete. I will arrange everything."

"You…you think I am his mistress," Mary gasped. "What you propose is despicable! I have no need for money and would never degrade myself in such a way."

"I can offer you more than money, Mary," the Viscount continued, his questing hands moving from her shoulders to caress her form. "My brother is so prudish and unschooled. I could teach you things and show you pleasures that he could not imagine."

"I demand that you release me at once," Mary commanded through gritted teeth.

"Who knew that you had such fire?" the Viscount laughed as he turned Mary forcibly so that she was pressed against his chest. "But you will not deny me."

With that, the Viscount crashed his lips down onto Mary's. She screamed and pushed against his shoulders forcefully, but he would not release her. Mary felt his tongue seeking entrance into her mouth. She allowed him in before biting him firmly on the tongue. The Viscount yelped as he pushed Mary away from him. Hearing his master's cry of pain, the driver stopped the sleigh to attend to him. Sensing her chance, Mary quickly climbed down from the sleigh, falling to her knees as she hit the snow covered ground. Before the Viscount could follow her, Mary picked herself up and ran into the woods.

"Should I follow her, my lord," the driver asked as he leapt from the sleigh.

"No, leave the blasted chit," the Viscount bit out as he spat blood from his mouth. "Return to Pemberley without her.

Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped into the foyer angrily shrugging off his coat followed by a sheepish Lady Letitia. He disliked being bamboozled. He had been looking forward to the sleigh ride with Mary and was quite put out when he found himself placed alone with Lady Letitia instead. He immediately suspected that his brother's sudden desire to have a private word with him just as they were due to embark on the tour was related. He spent the entire sleigh ride seated as far from Lady Letitia as possible. He had been in no mood to indulge her mindless chatter and rebuffed her flattery with a coldness that he seldom displayed to the fairer sex. His ire had been further stoked when Letitia mentioned that his brother Gregory was riding with Miss Farthington. In response to his uttered curse at that bit of news, Letitia became angry herself and began abusing Mary abominably.

"I do not know why you are so concerned after the chit," Letitia went on. "She is hardly better than a servant and not worth your concern. She's such a dark coarse thing, no more than a bastard parading around like a proper lady."

"That is quite enough, Letitia," Fitzwilliam barked out, stunning Lady Letitia into silence. "You have no right to speak of Miss Farthington in such a way. The lady is everything that you are not. Miss Farthington possess more true grace and beauty in her little toe than you do in your entire body. Despite all your breeding and education, you are nothing more than a vapid shell of a woman who pales in comparison."

"How dare you speak to me in such a manner!"

"I dare say that you deserve far worse, but I shan't waste my breath," Fitzwilliam replied. Ignoring Letitia's indignant splutters, Fitzwilliam instructed the driver to return them to Pemberley at once.

As soon as Fitzwilliam divested himself of his coat, he was approached by a concerned Darcy.

"Richard, have you or Lady Letitia seen Miss Farthington?" Darcy asked, his brow knit with worry.

"Not since this morning," Fitzwilliam replied. "Whatever is the matter?"

"Your brother returned to the house without her. He claims that she jumped from the sleigh for no reason claiming that she had to return to the house. But that was over an hour ago."

"I hardly believe that she leapt from the vehicle without provocation," Fitzwilliam replied darkly.

"Do you think that he imposed on her in some way?" Darcy replied, his tone matching his cousin's.

"I do not know, but I would not put it past him. He has demonstrated an unsettling interest in Miss Farthington," Fitzwilliam replied before calling for his coat. "We can deal with my brother later. It will soon grow dark and Mary is hardly attired for a trek through the snow."

"You are correct of course," Darcy replied, ignoring Fitzwilliam's familiarity with his ward. "I have already called for every available footman to gather to form a search party."

"I will join the search as well."

Fitzwilliam turned to see Peterson already dressed in his coat and riding boots. "She is my cousin, afterall."

Fitzwilliam clapped him on the back. "Good man."

"Well, lets be off then," Darcy announced as he donned his hat and headed for the door.

Mary shivered as she sat on a rock deep in the woods surrounding Pemberley. She was completely lost and began to despair of ever finding her way back to Pemberley before it became too dark to see in front of her. As it was a new moon, Mary knew that she would have no source of light to guide her steps. The coat she donned that afternoon had been sufficient for a two hour ride in an open sleigh complete with furs and warming blocks, but it was woefully inadequate for an impromptu nighttime hike through snow covered woods. She began to regret her decision to run into the woods rather than along the road when she made her escape. However, Mary had been too bewildered and frightened for rational thought. She only wanted to get away from the horrid Viscount.

Mary rose from her perch and continued to trundle through the woods, hoping to come across a road or a stream that would lead her to civilization. She wondered how such a man as the Viscount could be the brother of her Richard? He was such a vile and presumptuous man. She recalled the taste of his mouth upon hers with a shiver of disgust. However, if what Lady Letitia and the Viscountess had said was true, then their being relations was not quite so surprising. Oh, but Richard was nothing like the Viscount. She knew this in her heart. He had not approached her as if he was entitled to her favors nor handled her so roughly. Richard was a good man and Mary hoped that it was all just a great misunderstanding.

Mary was heartened when she came upon a clearing that bordered a lake. If this was indeed the lake she was familiar with, she knew that if she walked along its bank, eventually she would come upon a familiar path that would lead her to the house. That is, if she found the path before the sun completely set. Mary began to wonder if she was near the place where she had first met Richard. How long ago that seemed! So much had transpired since then. Mary longed for those simple carefree days before the Viscount and his awful family darkened Pemberley's doors. Well, not all of his family was awful. Ronald was a dear sweet boy whom she hoped would grow to be a fine gentleman despite his parents. Mary sobered at the realization that if the desires of her heart came true, she would have to name the Viscount as brother.

Panic began to overtake her as she began to despair of ever finding her way before nightfall. The sun was rapidly setting and Mary found her path becoming more and more difficult to determine. Panic began to overtake her as she began to despair of ever finding her way before nightfall.

Richard rode through the woodland paths surrounding Pemberley at a moderate pace, calling for Mary as he made his way. He had been occupied with his search for three quarters of an hour and had no luck. Daylight was becoming scare and he despaired of finding Mary before he was due back at the house to reconvene with Darcy and Peterson to modify their search before redeploying with lantern bearing servants. Pain gripped his heart at the idea of Mary lost and frightened in the woods. The picture of her shivering and helpless in the snow was the only thing holding back the rage he felt for his brother. He knew that Mary would not take flight without provocation and he knew his brother's disposition well enough to be confident that he had tried to impose himself on Mary in some way. He had hoped that his last conversation with Gregory on the subject would have dissuaded him from continuing with his unwanted advances. Richard concluded that a more serious lecture was in order.

All too soon, the sun disappeared from the sky and Richard was forced to make his way back to the house. He directed Beauregard back to the house, calling for Mary all the way back in the off chance that she had wondered near to his route within the past hour. As he approached the house, he was heartened to spy Mary being helped down from a horse by Peterson. Richard swung down from his horse, tossing the reigns distractedly to a nearby footman before trotting towards her.

"Mary…Miss Farthington, I am so glad that you are alright," Fitzwilliam exclaimed, taking Mary's cold hands into his.

"Yes, I am well, thanks to Derek," Mary replied, smiling brightly at her cousin as she pulled her hands from his embrace.

"Thank heavens you are found!" Beatrice exclaimed as she hurriedly made her way down the steps towards them, Elizabeth and Georgiana hot on her heels.

Richard soon found himself separated from Mary, as Elizabeth bundled her off into the house with Beatrice and Georgiana fussing over her along the way.

"She is in good hands," Darcy said as he patted his cousin on the back. "I am sure that between the three of them Mary won't be allowed to even blow her nose unassisted."

Richard nodded his head in agreement as he watched the ladies' retreat. While he longed for the privilege of taking Mary into his arms to assure himself that she was well, he was too relieved at her having been so quickly found to offer any complaint.

"Thank you for finding her, Peterson," Fitzwilliam said, his voice thick with gratitude and relief as he held out his hand to the man.

"It was my duty and my pleasure, Fitzwilliam," Derek replied as he shook the offered hand.

"Now to deal with my brother."

Chapter 18

Posted on January 14, 2010

Mary rose early with the sun. She found sleep difficult given the events of the previous day. Although she knew she should emulate the members of the household and sleep late in preparation for the evening's masquerade ball, she could not remain in bed a moment longer. She dressed herself in a simple morning gown and tied her hair into a messy bun that rested at the nape of her neck. She quietly made her way to the breakfast room, greeting maids and footmen that she passed along the way who had long since risen from their beds to prepare for the ball. A few footmen stopped to tell her of their relief that she was well which earned them her earnest thanks and a gentle smile.

Mary was relieved to find the breakfast room empty. She did not yet feel up to facing certain members of the household and she looked forward to the chance to enjoy a light breakfast in solitude. There were no tea things or breakfast foods arranged on the sideboard as Mrs. Reynolds rightly did not expect any of the family or their guests to stir before noon. Mary thought to make her way towards the kitchens in the hopes of finding a sweet roll and a bit of cheese, not wanting to add to the workload of the staff. However, she had not gotten far from the breakfast rooms when a harried April appeared before her.

"Miss Mary," she curtsied, her voice a bit breathless, "Lucy told me that you were up. I'm sorry that I was not in your rooms to attend to you this morning. I thought that you'd be wanting to rest more."

"Please, don't be anxious on my account, April," Mary replied with a smile. "I was quite capable of dressing myself. At least I think so. I don't look a fright, do I?"

"Oh no, miss. You look lovely as usual. I didn't mean to imply…"

"It is alright, April. I was just teasing you. I was just on my way to the kitchens for a bit of breakfast. Don't let me keep you from whatever you were doing."

"Oh, it is no bother, miss. Why don't you have a seat in the breakfast room? I'll see that some food is brought up for you."

Mary made to protest as she was shepherded back into the breakfast room, but April would hear none of it. Mary walked towards the window to look over the eastern woods that stood bare of vegetation and covered in snow. She recalled the fear and panic that she felt as she tried to make her way through the woods back to the warmth and safety of Pemberely. Her feet had been numb from trudging through the snow-covered ground in naught but her slippers and she shivered due to her lack of wool wrap, forgotten in her haste to escape the sleigh. While her physical discomfort and anxiety had been great, it had not compared to the ache in her heart. Even the morning after, her mind reeled with shame and disgust over the Viscount's attack and presumption. His words had been as hurtful as his actions. While Georgiana helped Mary to dismiss the Viscount's aspersions to her character, she could not so easily disregard the implications he made regarding Richard's attitude towards her. Georgiana had told her of Fitzwilliam's response to the news of his brother's actions. He was as enraged as she expected him to be and his ire served as a rebuttal to the Viscount's claims that she was nothing more than a flirtation. The last several days had been fraught with doubt and sorrow and Mary felt herself to be nearing her limit.

Mary turned at the sound of the doors being drawn aside, expecting to find servants laden with trays of tea things and pastries. She was surprised to find Richard entering the room instead, his dark blue eyes immediately coming to rest on her figure. Mary noticed the dark circles under his eyes, bearing witness to his own inability to find rest the evening before. His lips broke out in a smile at the sight of her and in two long strides he was before her wrapping her in a tight embrace.

"Mary, it has been far too long since I've held you," he murmured into her hair as he tightened his hold upon her.

"Richard," Mary sighed as she relaxed into his arms. She thought to say more, but found that her words caught in her throat. She pressed herself tighter against him, taking comfort in his familiar scent and strength.

"Are you well, Princess?" Richard asked after a time. "You cannot begin to know how I've worried after you."

"I am uninjured, Richard."

Richard released her and brought both of his hands up to cup her face. "He did not hurt you?" he asked as he searched her face.

"No, Richard. As I said, I am well."

Richard looked at her closely for a moment more, nodding once he was sure of her health, his eyes suspiciously wet.

"I have scarcely known such fear as when you were lost, Princess. Nor have I known such fury as when I heard how my brother imposed himself upon you. I beg your forgiveness for exposing you to such treatment."

Mary sighed and stepped away from him. "You are not responsible for your brother's actions."

"Perhaps not, but I am responsible for my own. I fear that my brother assumed that you…that you were without protection," Fitzwilliam explained. "I have played the role of fiancé without the title and as a result made you vulnerable to the cruel imaginations of wicked people. I allowed my desires to get ahead of the demands of duty and honor. For that I beg your forgiveness."

Mary sharply inhaled and struggled to blink back tears at the words "duty" and "honor," her doubts suddenly confirmed. She felt as if a hot poker had been thrust into her side.

"Oh God, " she whispered, stepping back and turning from him as she shut her eyes tightly. "Its true."

"What is true, Mary?"

"You are secretly engaged to Lady Letitia. You have been long before I met you. I didn't want to believe it, but you have admitted it to be true," Mary choked out as she worked to keep her tears at bay.

"Mary," Fitzwilliam exclaimed as he approached her, catching her about the shoulders. "Who has told you these things?"

"I heard it from your fiancé's own lips," Mary cried as she shrugged out of his grasp and turned to face him, her eyes accusing. "Do you now presume to deny it?"

"Yes, I do deny it," Fitzwilliam replied fiercely as he grasped her arms once more. "I have never been engaged to Letitia and I never shall be. It is you whom I love."

Mary shook her head in denial. "No. You claim to love me, yet you have not spoken to Mr. Darcy to ask for me. Your family thinks that I am your whore. Even Georgiana doubted my honor." Mary swallowed thickly at the memory of her confrontation with Georgiana and her staunch defense of Fitzwilliam. "Elizabeth warned me to guard my heart, but I did not listen. What a fool I've been."

Mary tried once more to free herself from his hold, but Fitzwiliam only wrapped his arms around her, bringing her close to his chest once more.

"Please, let me go," she begged as she pushed against his chest, her tears now falling steadily. "You don't have leave to hold me so intimately."

"Mary! Please hear me," Richard pleaded, his voice desperate. "Letitia has told you a lie. The only woman whom I would ever wish to marry is you. Indeed, I've fought for weeks to gain Darcy's blessing. If not for that, I would have long ago claimed you as my wife."

Mary stopped her struggles and fisted her hands into the fabric of his waistcoat as she processed his words. Fitzwilliam held her close, his hold now gentle as he murmured his love and devotion into her hair as she continued to weep. April chose that moment to enter the room with a tray of foodstuffs but soon reconsidered when she realized the intimate moment on which she had intruded. She silently backed from the room at Fitzwilliam's look of dismissal. Soon Mary's tears quieted and she lifted her head from his shoulder.

"Then you are not engaged."

"No, and I have never been."

"And you wish to marry me."

"Nothing would please me more," Richard replied with a gentle smile.

Mary began to cry again causing the smile to drop swiftly from Richard's lips. His brow wrinkled in concern as he looked down at her.

"Princess, what is wrong?"

"Oh, I have completely ruined it," Mary cried.

"Ruined what, my love?"

"This moment! I shouldn't be standing here crying like a blithering idiot. I must look a mess."

Richard tried and failed to suppress the merry laugh that bubbled up from his chest.

"You have never looked more beautiful, Mary," Richard replied honestly before kissing her briefly on the lips and laughing once more. "You have yet to answer my question, Princess."

"I don't believe you asked me properly," Mary smiled as she wiped at her cheeks.

"Then let me try one more time."

Richard dropped to one knee then thought better of it and kneeled on both causing Mary to giggle. He took her right hand in both of his and kissed her knuckles before clearing his throat.

"Miss Mary Caroline Farthington, I have loved you almost from the moment I nearly trampled you with my horse."

Mary laughed again through her tears earning herself a pleased grin from Fitzwilliam.

"We have not been long acquainted, but it only took me a moment to realize that the beauty of your face and form could only be outshone by the beauty of your spirit. Your bravery, kindness and grace have made you the mistress of my heart. I once pledged my fealty to you as a knight of your realm and offered you my heart, now I offer you my hand and all that I am. I know I have wronged you and been a fool. Indeed, the knowledge that I ever gave you cause to doubt my devotion pains me like a mortal wound. I know that I do not deserve your regard, but I beg your grace all the same. Will you make me the happiest of men and consent to be my wife?"

Mary gazed at Richard's earnest face, taking in the sight of his moist eyes and furrowed brow. She wiped her eyes with her free hand and tried and failed to stop her tears of relief and joy.

"Yes. Yes, I will marry you Richard Fitzwilliam," Mary replied with a huge smile before falling to her knees to pepper his face with kisses.

Their combined laughter soon gave way to silence as they employed their lips to better pursuits.

Mary could barely make it through tea with her composure intact. Richard was speaking with Darcy about their engagement at that very moment. She was finally engaged to Richard and she would soon be Mrs. Mary Fitzwilliam. Mary thought that the name had many fine qualities, not the least of which was the happy coincidence that she would not have to re-embroider the initials on her handkerchiefs. It would be a very convenient union. So great was her joy that not even the disdainful stares of the Viscountess and the thinly veiled insults of Lady Letitia could dampen her mood.

"My dear, I am so happy to see you so well recovered," Mr. Brambles whispered to her as he sat down on the chaise beside her, a plate of finger sandwiches balanced in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

"You are too good," Mary replied with a wide smile as she gently relieved him of his teacup to place on the small table beside her. "There have been enough pleasures today to ensure my good mood for a decade."

"Yes, the ball should be a most singular event," Mr. Brambles replied before he bit into a cucumber sandwich. "I'm going as a Moorish sheik! What will your costume be?"

"You shall just have to wait and see," Mary declared before taking a sip of her tea.

The opening of the drawing room door drew Mary's attention. She set down her cup, expecting to find Mr. Darcy and Richard returned from their conference to announce the happy news. Mary had to swallow her disappointment when a servant entered the room instead. The footman made his way over to where Mary and Mr. Brambles were seated.

"Miss. Farthington. Mr. Brambles. Mr. Darcy requests your presence in his study."

"Thank you, Walter."

Mary rose from her seat and quickly but calmly left the drawing room, Mr. Brambles trailing in her wake.

"I wonder why Mr. Darcy asks to speak with us," Mr. Brambles stated once he had caught up with Mary on the stairs.

Mary remained silent, suppressing a wide smile as they made their way to Mr. Darcy's study.

"Mr. Brambles. Mary," Darcy greeted as they entered his study. He was leaning against his desk, his ankles crossed and his arms resting on his chest. "Please, have a seat."

Fitzwilliam rose from his seat and was at Mary's side in three long strides. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles before turning to face a surprised Mr. Brambles.

"Well, I suppose I should just come right out with it," Darcy replied, somewhat amused by Mr. Bramble's open-mouthed stare. "My cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam has proposed to Miss Farthington. She has accepted him and I have given them my consent."

Mr. Brambles sat speechless for a moment, before bounding up from his chair, his face split in a smile.

"Congratulations, Colonel," Mr. Brambles said as he vigorously shook the young man's hand. "Oh, what a wonderful turn of events."

Mr. Brambles then shook Mary's hand before grasping her in a warm hug. "Congratulations, Mary. Your father would be pleased with your choice, I daresay. You have chosen yourself a fine young man."

Mary squeezed Mr. Brambles' hand before releasing him, conveying her appreciation. "I only wish that father could have met him. I am sure he would have liked him very much."

Fitzwilliam smiled down at Mary warmly, before grasping her hand tightly in his.

"Well, I expect you'll be announcing the engagement at the ball tonight? Capital!"

"No," Darcy replied as he went to take his seat behind his desk. "Which is why I wanted to speak with both of you in private."

Mary looked questioningly at Fitzwilliam who smiled at her sadly before leading her to a chair. He stood behind her, one hand clasped reassuringly on her shoulder.

"We…Richard and I have spoken at length and we both agree that it would be best to keep your engagement secret for a time. After we have removed to London for the season and you've been introduced to the ton, then we will announce your engagement to his parents prior to a general announcement," Darcy explained.

"I do not understand why we must delay," Mary replied. She turned to look up at Fitzwilliam, confusion writ over her features. "Is not the ball meant to be my first introduction into society?"

Richard gave her a searching look before turning angrily towards Darcy. "Blast! This was your condition, you explain it to her!"

He quit his place behind Mary's chair to stand by the fire, a pose Mary had come to equate with his being anxious or upset.

Darcy glared at his cousin's retreating form before sighing and turning to Mary once more. "I simply think that it would be better to delay the announcement until you have had the opportunity to mingle with more of the ton. Then, once you've made a reputation for yourself amongst the ton, we would introduce you to Lord and Lady Matlock. This would give them the opportunity to come to know and admire you on your own merits. Then, after a reasonable passage of time, we would announce the engagement to the family and in the papers. Once they see how society has welcomed you, they can have no objections to the match."

Mary looked from Richard to Darcy to Mr. Brambles, a frown marring her features as she began to understand their meaning. This was an obstruction that she had managed to allow herself to forget. Had she not told Georgiana that this very impediment made her an unlikely candidate for Fitzwilliam's affections? However, she allowed herself to be so swept up in the thrill of new romance that she had dismissed the objections of the rest of the world, that is until the Viscount and his family darkened Pemberley's doors. They daily ensured that she would not forget how proper English society viewed her prospects.

"Ah, I see," Mary sighed as she rose from her seat to come to stand behind Richard. "It is my person that your parents would find unsuitable."

Richard turned to face her, grasping her gently by the shoulders. "I don't care one jot about what my parents may or may not think. It is I who do not deserve you. If I had my druthers, I'd tell all of England of my intentions to make you my wife."

"Lord Matlock is quite steeped in his notions of family rank and status," Darcy explained. "They had strong objections to Mrs. Darcy when our engagement was first announced. They felt her family lacked the status and wealth common to our circle. But they soon overcome those objections when they came to know her. It is my hope that with a bit of judicious delay, they will come to welcome you into the family as well."

"Lord Farthington did not lack for status or wealth," Mary replied as she eyed Fitzwilliam sadly. "But, unlike Elizabeth, I am not the daughter of a gentleman and I am not white. Status may be overcome with a few well-planned soirees and appearances at St. James. The hue of my skin and the accident of my birth cannot."

The men all looked very grave, causing Mary to smile mirthlessly.

"Come, now. I may be naïve about many things, but I am not a simpleton. My father sought to keep me ignorant of many of the less pleasant things of this world, but these past few months in England have been quite an education."

Mr. Brambles stepped towards Mary and patted her hand gently. "Your father was a good man, Miss Mary. He loved you a great deal, but I fear your assessment is correct. Perhaps, in seeking to protect you so completely he did you a disservice."

"No, I would rather have disappointed hopes than none at all," Mary replied kindly.

"Mary," Mr. Darcy began, his voice grave. "You must understand what you may be exposing yourself to by aligning yourself with Fitzwilliam. The ton can be cruel and society may not welcome the news of your upcoming union."

"I have done well enough without such society so far," Mary replied. "I shan't regret the loss of their favor."

Fitzwilliam took her hand from Mr. Brambles and kissed her fervently on the knuckles. "Nor shall I with such a wife by my side."

Darcy regarded them somberly. "I know that this is an imposition, but I believe it is for the best. You shall have to wait a few months at the very most. You could marry in the spring."

Mary squeezed Richard's hand. A few months seemed like quite a long while, indeed. However, they were finally engaged. For now, that was all that mattered.

"I can accept your conditions, Mr. Darcy, if Fitzwilliam can."

Fitzwilliam smiled at Mary sadly, before turning to face Darcy. "I must insist that we announce our engagement to our immediate family before the ball. There must be someone to share our joy."

"Yes," Mary agreed. "Beatrice and Elizabeth must know and it would not be fair to keep Georgiana in the dark."

"I see no problem with that scheme. The Petersons, Georgiana and my wife will be told. However, I think it best not to inform the Viscountess or Lady Letitia."

Richard squeezed Mary's hand at her sigh of disappointment.

"There is another matter you should be made privy to, Darcy," Richard began. "The Viscountess and Lady Letitia have been spreading false rumors as to my engagement to Lady Letitia. It is my belief that they may have even had some hand in the debacle with my brother last night."

Darcy's eyes widened in surprise. "Spreading rumors? To whom?"

Mary stood numbly, barely hearing Richard's explanation of the Viscountess and Lady Letitia's deception and his suspicions regarding how his brother came to share her sleigh in his place. All Mary could think about was their scheme to delay the announcement of their engagement. Mary feared what might occur if Lord Matlock did not approve of her and refused to recognize their engagement. While legally his parent's objections would have little meaning, would Darcy rescind his blessing? Suddenly she longed for nothing more than to remain at Pemberley with Richard, far from prying eyes, scornful words or judgmental parents. If only they could marry now and avoid the coming trials of the season.

Mary's levity was soon restored when they returned to the drawing room. Thankfully, Lady Letitia and the Viscountess had already retired to attend to their preparations for the ball. Georgiana was just about to make her way from the room to do the same, when they entered. Darcy stayed her exit with a gentle touch to her back.

"If I could, I would like to make an announcement of some import," Darcy began once Georgiana retook her seat. "This morning my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam proposed marriage to Miss Farthington. She happily accepted and I have given them my consent."

Richard took Mary by the hand as they awaited the reaction of their friends and family. The company was stunned into silence for a short moment before Beatrice's cry of delight and Elizabeth's enthusiastic clapping provoked the room into action. Mary and Richard soon found themselves swarmed by their friends. There was much laughter, slaps to the back, vigorous handshakes, warm embraces and kisses to the cheeks and hands. Mary found her disappointment quite overwhelmed by the joyful response of her family. Georgiana's affectionate embrace and heartfelt smile further warmed Mary's heart. She glanced over Georgiana's shoulder to see Derek watching them, his green eyes warm. Mary hoped that she would be in the position to offer her friend similar congratulations in the near future.

"Before we all retire to our preparations," Darcy continued once the expressions of felicity died down, "I would like to make one request. Please keep your knowledge of the engagement private. We will make a formal announcement to the family and in the papers sometime before the spring."

Elizabeth regarded her husband with a look that expressed her intention to have more words on the subject at a later time. Beatrice looked confused for a moment before she stepped forward and patted Mary's shoulder reassuringly.

"Well, you can be assured that I'll keep my own counsel, Mr. Darcy," she replied as she looked from Darcy to Mary. "I am just so happy for you, dear. Have you both thought of when you'd like to marry?"

"As soon as humanly possible," Fitzwilliam replied, earning himself a delighted laugh from Beatrice and a grin from Mary. "By the end of the spring, at the very latest."

"Oh, then that would mean you could not summer with us in Brighton," Beatrice replied, genuine disappointment turning down the corners of her lips.

"I must admit that I have not even thought that far ahead," Mary confessed. "I still cannot believe that we are actually engaged! I fear it is all a dream and I shall wake on the morrow a disappointed woman."

"Forgive me, Mary. I fear I am just a selfish old woman," Beatrice smiled. "Of course you have not yet considered such things. Oh, you shall be Mrs. Mary Fitzwilliam. How well that sounds!"

"You and Mr. Peterson are more than welcome at Darcy House this season," Elizabeth offered. "I am sure that Mary would appreciate your presence and advice when it comes to all of the wedding planning."

"Oh, yes, Beatrice," Mary enthused. "I would so love the chance to know more of you and Derek even if we are to be parted this summer. Consider it, please."

After several assurances from Beatrice and Derek that they would do just that, the party dispersed to their respective chambers to begin their personal preparations for the ball. Mary lingered behind with Fitzwilliam, inordinately pleased that they could now conspire to have a moment alone without fear of censure. As soon as Elizabeth exited the room, a pleased smirk playing about her mouth, Mary grasped Fitzwilliam by the lapels to bring him close for a proper kiss.

"I hope you believe me when I say that this is not what I would have wished," Fitzwilliam began once they parted. "I would rather we both be away to Gretna Green than abide by these conditions. I have been a very patient man as it is."

Mary ran her fingers through the black curls at the nape of his neck. "And I would gladly go with you to Scotland. But, it will all be worthwhile when we are finally wed with our friends and families in attendance."

Richard closed his eyes and sighed at Mary's gentle attentions, before dropping his chin to rest his forehead against hers.

"I suppose that you are correct, my lady," he murmured, causing Mary to chuckle. "But once we are wed, I reserve the right to abscond with you to whatever foreign land I please."

"I've always been curious to visit India," Mary mused.

"Perhaps, but I fear I am less curious about the heat and mosquitoes," he quipped. "I was thinking more about a lovely villa on the Greek isles far from the rush and noise of London and the ton. We'd go swimming everyday and I'd have my wicked way with you every night."

Mary gasped and hit him playfully on the chest. "We could go to New Sussex," Mary replied after a time. "The sands are just as white and the waters just as clear. We could walk the shore every day and sleep in the open air."

Richard cupped her face as he gazed at her, his blue eyes bright with affection.

"I would find such a scheme more than agreeable. Perhaps we could go there and leave England far behind."

"Are you sure this plan will work, Daniela," Lady Letitia whined as her cousin worked to gently loosen the stitching along the bodice of her gown.

"For the hundredth time, yes," the Viscountess replied, her tone thick with irritation. "If you follow my instructions to the letter the plan cannot help but be successful."

The Viscountess stepped back and observed her handiwork with her hands resting on her hips. "Now, that should do nicely. With one good tug the fabric should rip cleanly and leave you sufficiently exposed."

"Really, Daniela, is this necessary?"

"You are the one who insists on having the Colonel, not I," the Viscountess replied as she donned her brightly feathered mask. "Since you could not hold your tongue long enough to seduce him properly, we are forced to act as pirates. Now, tell me what you are to do."

Letitia sighed dramatically before rolling her kohl-lined eyes. "Just prior to the supper set, I am to make my way to the library which should be quite deserted. You will have a servant call Colonel Fitzwilliam to the library. When he arrives, I fall into his arms and rip my dress."

"And then I arrive with Darcy to discover my brother-in-law's scandalous behavior. Darcy is outraged and forces him to offer for you."

"And we live happily ever after," Letitia finished with a flourish.

"Hmmm," the Viscountess replied as she moved to examine her costume in the mirror. "Something like that. Just be sure that you are not seen when you make your way from the library."

"How I am supposed to manage such a thing as that?" Letitia complained.

"Goodness! I can't do everything for you. You'll just have to manage. Do your part, dear cousin, and you'll get what you deserve."