Tapestry of Lives ~ Section XVII

    By Jean M.

    Beginning, Previous Section, Section XVII, Next Section

    Chapter 56. Companion of his Future Life.

    Posted on 2012-07-30

    June 1819

    The Right Honorable Richard Fitzwilliam arrived at Derwent House with the force of a windstorm. It was only after a footman admitted him that he realized the Darcys might not be alone. Indeed, it was quickly obvious that there was a dinner party taking place and he had arrived at the very moment when Mrs. Darcy was leading the ladies away to the drawing room.

    Richard's face displayed a sudden uncertainty that was not part of his usual temperament. He was accustomed to arriving on his cousin's doorstep at odd times, almost always without warning. However, that was before William had married and he suddenly realized that a house with a mistress might require greater courtesy.

    Allowing her guests to precede her, Elizabeth paused in the hall and smiled at her husband's cousin with pleasure, although her eyes searched his keenly. "Richard, welcome! William shall be very glad to see you, sir."

    The gentleman's expression became grim. "Yes, I can imagine." He attempted to evaluate the situation and finally simply admitted the truth; "The Earl and I have just returned from Essex; I had hoped to speak with you and Darcy privately, but obviously you are entertaining. I apologize; I shall leave immediately." He tried not to think of where he would go for he currently had no desire to return to his father's house.

    Mrs. Darcy must have caught some of his frustration, for she immediately offered a more appealing alternative. "If you wouldn't mind waiting an hour, I should be able to move our guests along. Would you care to join the gentlemen at their port? Or perhaps you would prefer a quiet meal and a chance to wash up? We would be very pleased if you could stay the night."

    Richard grinned back, his relief obvious. Executing a small bow, he responded, "Thank you. I would appreciate the offer of hot water and good food more than you can know." To himself, he acknowledged that the ability to make polite conversation to an array of strangers and indifferent acquaintances was quite beyond him at the moment.

    Elizabeth arranged it all with admirable efficiency and in short order Mr. Fitzwilliam was shown to his usual room even as a servant quietly alerted Darcy to his cousin's presence in the house. As a result, the gentlemen joined the ladies with remarkable promptness and the entire party was treated to performances by Miss Darcy and two other young ladies. Just as Elizabeth had foretold, the clock had not long struck ten before the evening was brought to a close.

    Once the last guest was fare welled at the door, Georgiana confessed to fatigue and begged leave to retire. Left alone, William turned to his wife and immediately asked, "Did Richard say anything?"

    Elizabeth shook her head even as she drew him toward the stairs. "Nothing except that he and the Earl had just returned from Essex. He looked tired, and none too happy, either."

    William pulled at his cravat to loosen it. He would have liked to stop in their own rooms to change out of formal evening wear but was too eager to hear his cousin's news to suggest it. Surprisingly, when they reached the chambers where Fitzwilliam usually stayed, a footman directed them further down the hall to the apartment that Lady Almida and her son had occupied since their arrival at Derwent House.

    The scene that met the Darcys' eyes in the Viscountess' sitting room was certainly unexpected. Richard Fitzwilliam was lounging in a comfortable armchair, his legs extended out before him in a supremely casual attitude. His sister-in-law was more formally posed, but even so she appeared far more relaxed than the Darcys would have expected given the pair's previous interactions.

    Richard spoke first, "Ah, and here are our hosts. I suppose I shall now be required to tell the whole, sad saga again. Perhaps it will improve in the re-telling, but I cannot say that I have much hope."

    His cousin's drawl had Darcy glancing suspiciously at the gentleman's nearly empty brandy snifter and wondering how many times it had been refilled. William kept his peace, however, for he rightly suspected that his cousin had not had an easy week. "It is good to see you, too, Richard," he responded dryly.

    Fitzwilliam acknowledged him with an offhanded salute before greeting Elizabeth more seriously. "Thank you again for your hospitality. I happened upon my young nephew in the hall and he very cordially invited me in to meet his mother." He glanced toward Lady Almida and caught her eye. "We have been having a very interesting chat."

    "I fear that Reggie has been missing Tommy Gardiner's company," said Almida inconsequently. The genuine amiability of the Gardiner children had done more than any reassurances on her part to reduce her son's fearfulness. To her eternal surprise, she had even found herself thinking about taking Reggie to visit his new friends in Gracechurch Street now that they had returned home with their parents.

    At the moment, however, Darcy had little patience for small talk. "What news do you bring, Richard?"

    The other gentleman sighed to himself, but obediently began again. "After we left your home last Sunday, it took rather more time for us to depart London than I had hoped on account of the large number of letters that the Earl determined critical to write before leaving Town. The benefit to this delay was that I was able to track down Andy Dunn, my old batman, and bring him along."

    Darcy nodded thoughtfully, remembering Dunn's admirable place in his cousin's war stories.

    "We stopped at a posting inn near Epping Forest for the night and finished our journey in the morning. Though it was nearly noon when we arrived at Ravenswood, the house was quiet as a tomb," continued Richard.

    He caught Lady Almida's flinch and turned to her with a contrite expression. "Forgive me, I did not think…"

    "No," she held up a hand. "I am perfectly well. Please carry on."

    Richard did so, though silently resolving to choose his words more carefully. "The servants were surprised to see us, as you can no doubt imagine, but once Father explained who we were they at least allowed us entrance. It took a bit more to force our way in to see Ashbourn, but, well… we managed it."

    Richard paused to sip the last of his brandy; his brother's appearance had shaken him more than he cared to admit. "Edward had not left his bedchamber since the altercation with Lady Almida--to be honest, I don't think he even understood that they had gone."

    Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and exchanged a look with Darcy. Although they had not dwelled on it, both had felt the danger of a half-mad Viscount attempting to force his way into Derwent House since that man's wife had sought sanctuary with them. Lady Almida and her son had determinedly kept to the upper floors of the house to avoid being seen through the windows by passers by.

    Richard caught the exchange and asked with a sort of fatigued insight. "Did Father not write to you?"

    "I fear that the Earl neglected that communication," said Darcy tersely, but then waved off the other gentleman's apologies and indicated for him to continue.

    Richard sighed. "It was immediately obvious that he suffered from paranoia and was only barely kept under control by the tincture his valet was administering. In general, I do not countenance the application of any sort of opium, but in this instance… well, anyway. Your Dr. Tolmach is a saint, by the way. He needed the assistance of Dunn, myself, and Edward's valet to restrain my brother long enough for an examination."

    Fitzwilliam fell silent for a minute, his thoughts returning to the unpleasant scene. Sensing his agitation, the others waited until he regained his composure.

    "Dr. Tolmach was rapidly convinced that my brother is indeed suffering from syphilis. From questioning his valet about the lesions, he believes that Edward probably contracted the disease less than a year ago. Unfortunately, his condition appears to be deteriorating very rapidly, probably due in no small part to his penchant for heavy drinking and an otherwise unhealthy lifestyle."

    When Richard spoke again, his voice was still tight although he attempted to keep his tone neutral. "Father, of course, took some days and a second opinion before he would even consider the possibility." He glanced guiltily toward Lady Almida and added, "Given his subsequent actions, perhaps I should have acted differently."

    His sister-in-law only shook her head tiredly and murmured, "It is not your fault, Richard. Just an ungodly hideous situation."

    If anything, Fitzwilliam became even more grim. "I will not argue. My father, however, has turned his attention toward maintaining our good name--it would not do to have it known that the future Earl of Matlock is mad with the French disease!"

    "So what has been done for Edward--does he remain at Ravenswood?" demanded Darcy impatiently. Elizabeth covered his hand with her own but his tension lessoned only marginally.

    Richard directed a fierce look at his cousin. "He is to be settled in an isolated hunting lodge in Scotland that the Earl inherited from some distant relation. I received an express requiring my immediate presence at Whitehall, and Father determined that he could no longer neglect his duties in the House of Lords or parliament would fall to ruin."

    William and Elizabeth remained silent but both felt that they would have put such a family crisis before any other duty. Oddly, it was the Viscountess who defended the Earl. "Had Lord Henry remained out of sight any longer, someone would have guessed something and I can only imagine the living Hell that such a scandal would create for all of us."

    Richard eyed her, trying not for the first time that night to fit together his previous image of the Viscountess with the lady he was now facing. Shaking his head slightly, he turned back to the Darcys. "To summarize, Dunn and several of Father's most trusted menservants are escorting Edward and his valet to Scotland as we speak, under the cover that he suffers from tuberculosis. We are sending a specialist to tend him, but Tolmach holds out little hope."

    The four were silent for some minutes, considering the painful death that the Viscount was likely to suffer as well as the irresponsible behavior that had led to it. Eventually Darcy spoke; "Well, it is not unexpected, is it? I would not wish such a miserable fate on anyone, but frankly my sympathies are for Lady Almida and her son."

    "No, it is just as you say." Richard sighed. "Except that Father fears that the disease will pass to Reggie and wishes to make me his heir."

    "Oh!" breathed Elizabeth in astonishment, even as she noted that her husband did not look particularly surprised.

    Almida spoke tiredly. "Really, Richard. I would be very happy to take Reggie and retire to Ravenswood forever, as long as Edward is kept away. My social ambition has been quite burnt out of me.

    Richard shook his head grimly. "It is not so easy as that. For the title to pass over your son, it would take a Royal injunction proclaiming him mentally incompetent, and that would stay with him for the remainder of his life."

    Almida's eyes widened slightly and she blanched. For all her assumed worldliness, before this moment she had not comprehended the full implications of her father-in-law's plans. Suddenly she was swept by a wave of exhaustion. "Forgive me, but this is all a great deal to take in."

    Elizabeth had already been wondering how much more the other woman could possibly take. She stood and spoke kindly, "Of course. You are still recovering and should sleep. We can talk more in the morning."

    The Viscountess expressed her thanks quietly and then excused herself. She was glad to see her son curled up in her own bed as he had done since they came to London. She spent some time simply watching him, and when she did eventually fall asleep, it was not terribly restful.

    The others removed to the Darcys' private sitting room. Before the door had even shut, Richard burst out, "Dash it all--I will not have that lad's life destroyed before it even begins. I talked to him for some time, and he has none of the meanness and spite that Edward thrived upon as a boy."

    Forgetting his previous concerns, William poured out three glasses of wine and handed them around.

    "And besides, I belong in Whitehall, not snoozing my hours away in that blasted gentlemen's club they call the House of Lords, regardless of what Father wants," grumbled Richard, accepting the glass.

    Darcy eyed his cousin speculatively for a moment and then asked carefully, "What is it exactly that Lord Henry wants from you?"

    Richard settled deeper into the armchair and stared morosely into his glass. "Not surprisingly, he has had to pay out a great deal of money to cover Edward's debts over the years, even more than I had realized, and he rightly fears that more will come to light when it becomes known that the Viscount is deathly ill." He paused and took a large swallow of wine.

    "Father has determined that I must marry very well so as to refill the Matlock coffers. He appears to have finally accepted that you will not sacrifice Georgiana to that role, but he has a short list of others whom I am to select among, as soon his banker has verified their families' financials."

    William remained silent. Not so many months ago, he would have considered the Earl's thinking to be justifiable and perhaps even well-reasoned. Since Elizabeth, however…

    Perhaps not surprisingly, it was Elizabeth who responded first, and then it was with a decidedly teasing tone. "And this is your affliction? A horrible fate, indeed!"

    Richard was forced to smile. He knew that she was well-aware of his feelings for Mrs. Collins, and it lightened his mood immeasurably that she was so confident in his loyalty to her friend that she could joke about the situation. "Indeed--I fear that I am failing in my duty as second son to salivate over my brother's position."

    He sighed and allowed his empty glass to dangle from his fingers. For all of his easy manners, he was not one to express his innermost feelings. However, if ever there were confidantes perfectly designed to help him attain his heart's desire, they were before him.

    After some minutes of silence, he began, "My recall to Whitehall was to receive my first civilian assignment. I'm to serve as attaché to the British ambassador in Spain; the envoy is to leave on the tenth of July." He blushed slightly but continued determinedly, "Charlotte shall have mourned her husband for six months by then, and I had hoped that we might marry in a small ceremony and then leave for the continent together without too much fuss."

    Elizabeth's approval was easy to see in her sunny smile, but Richard was rapidly convinced of William's support as well, even though his question was entirely practical. "How much of this did you tell the Earl?"

    Angered by his memories, Fitzwilliam burst from his seat and went to stand at the mantel, bracing his arms against it and kicking the grate. "All of it, for all the good it did me. Father barely listened; he was too eager to lay out his own plans for my life. Young Reggie is to be declared mentally deficient; he and Almida shuffled off to some remote Irish manse. And I… well, suffice it to say that the widow of a country parson with no connections or wealth of her own is not at all the sort of bride he desires for his heir. And said heir is certainly not to be risking life and limb on the continent, regardless of the reason."

    The three were quiet for several minutes considering the situation until finally Richard spoke again. "I could have handled it better, I admit, but I had hoped that my own news might lift his spirits--certainly my father needed something. I had…" his voice caught and he paused for a moment before continuing in a softer tone. "I had hoped that he would be happy for me." Richard thought vaguely that he sounded like a boy in short pants looking for his parent's approval, but if anyone would understand it was the couple currently looking at him with heartfelt sympathy.

    In the end, it was remarkably easy to agree upon a plan. The Countess was expected at Derwent House the next day to visit Lady Almida and Reggie. Richard was relieved to have the opportunity to talk to his mother away from the Earl and they all hoped that Lady Eleanor would be of help in negotiating a truce between father and son.

    Regardless of that outcome, however, Darcy would help Richard begin the process of applying for a special license and then Fitzwilliam would ride for Bath. Bashfully, he admitted that although we was absolutely certain that Mrs. Collins returned his affections, he had not actually spoken the words that that would bind his honor to the engagement.

    Elizabeth's eyes twinkled but she refused to disclose any of the hopes that her friend had confided to in their shared correspondence.

    Lady Eleanor proved to be sympathetic to her second son's preference. She had met Mrs. Collins while visiting Miss de Bourgh's new establishment in Bath, and had been pleased to find an unpretentious, sensible girl who was far more concerned with setting Anne's household in order than taking advantage of her position in Society. If Eleanor's support for Richard's position was also propelled by a deep and profound affection for her grandson, no one minded at all.

    The Right Honorable Richard Fitzwilliam and Mrs. Charlotte Collins were married in a quiet, solemn ceremony in Bath, followed by a small wedding breakfast at his cousin's house. The bride wore black bombazine trimmed with white lace and her young son giggled happily when his new stepfather tossed him in the air while they waited in the garden for the carriage.

    Although convinced to accept the arrangement, the Earl was determined to resist the young lady's charms. However, all his years in Society had not prepared him for the sensible woman whom his son had chosen. It would take Lord Henry some time to treat her as warmly as Mrs. Darcy, but the first step was taken when he observed the genuinely warm hug with which Charlotte greeted her childhood friend.

    The newlyweds' reception in Meryton went much as Elizabeth predicted to her husband. Sir William Lucas was stunned to near silence by his new son-in-law's pedigree and not even Richard's determined charm could induce that gentleman to speak more than a few sentences before he was struck dumb with awe. Lady Lucas managed the meeting with admirable composure, and if she did express amazement that Charlotte had managed to capture not just one but two husbands well above her station in life and at such an advanced age, at least she did it in private.

    Elizabeth could only dream of such discretion from her own mother, but unsurprisingly spent most of the visit cringing at Mrs. Bennet's tactless discourse.

    The Darcys had accompanied the newly married Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam to Hertfordshire while the Countess escorted Lady Almida and Reggie to Matlock and the Earl returned to London, hoping to forget his failure to enforce his will within his own family by flexing his political muscles in the waning days of the parliamentary session.

    Elizabeth had hoped that she might be able to maintain some level of civility when the Fitzwilliams visited Longbourn, but Mrs. Bennet was far too upset to be constrained. That Charlotte Lucas had not only stolen away Mr. Collins, a man who had rightly belonged to one of her daughters, and then had the audacity to give birth to a son (a fete that Mrs. Bennet had never been able to manage), had rankled. For her to parade that child, now Longbourn's heir, and a new husband (the son of an Earl, no less!) through Longbourn was insupportable.

    Needless to say, her uninformed polemics on the unfairness of entails combined with her usual nerves and flusterings made Longbourn House uncomfortable for even those who had grown up there.

    Thankfully, Charlotte was familiar with Mrs. Bennet's ways and met her slights with steady courtesy. Richard might have taken offence on behalf of his wife, but much of his visit was spent in Longbourn's library.

    In contrast, Mr. Bennet was well pleased by Charlotte's new husband. He had learned to respect Colonel Fitzwilliam when the gentleman had assisted in the matter of George Wickham and their subsequent interactions since Elizabeth's marriage had only cemented his positive opinion. With such parents, Thomas had every hope that his heir would grow up to be a sensible and well-informed master for Longbourn. He was more than content to begin educating the child's stepfather as to the running of the estate, regardless of his wife's harangues.

    In the end, the visitors' departure from Meryton was greeted with relief on both sides. The residents of Longbourn hoped that once the object of her wrath was removed from sight, Mrs. Bennet's nerves might subside to their usual level of volatility. The Fitzwilliams had been invited to stay at Derwent House upon returning to London and were happy to have some days to themselves before their departure to the continent.

    The Darcys left for the sanctuary of Pemberley with sighs of relief all around, as well as an unexpected addition to their party.

    Lydia had been home for nearly two weeks when the Darcys arrived in Hertfordshire. Her manners were better and she was not so silly as she had been before, but her fundamental nature could not change; she was just as gay and outgoing as ever. Mrs. Bennet delighted in hearing all about the young ladies attending Lydia's school and soon appeared to know every detail about their families and concerns.

    It was Kitty who had grown less insipid during the sisters' separation and she found herself entirely unwilling to spend her hours listening to Lydia's gossip. As a result, she sought Elizabeth out even before the Darcys had been at Longbourn for a full day and begged for permission to visit Pemberley. "Please Lizzy? I shall do anything you want--put me in the maid's quarters and have me scrub pots and pans--just don't leave me here with Mama and Lydia for the summer! I swear that I shall be fit for Bedlam before another fortnight has passed!"

    Remembering all the times that the Gardiners had provided her with temporary refuge from Longbourn's tumult, Elizabeth proved sympathetic and in short order it was arranged. The trip would prove especially beneficial for Kitty, for Mr. Darcy had engaged one of the foremost portraitists to spend the summer at Pemberley painting Elizabeth's portrait for Pemberley's gallery, in addition to some other less formal poses for the family.

    Although the gruff artist was as eccentric in his character as he was serious about his art, Miss Bennet's unassuming enthusiasm (such a contrast to the insincere tributes he was so often showered with by London's ladies) could not but charm. Kitty would never produce any truly great works, but he was not averse to seeing her attempts and providing helpful critiques on her brushwork and composition.

    By the end of the summer, Kitty had produced a respectable series of watercolors depicting various flowers native to Derbyshire which she bashfully presented to Lizzy. William had helped her arrange to have them framed by a craftsman in Kympton without her sister's knowledge and the genuine admiration her work received when Elizabeth hung them in the mistress' study did more to raise Kitty's self-confidence than any admiring glances she had ever received at an assembly.

    Chapter 57. A Love is Born.

    Posted on 2012-08-19

    September 1819

    "Oh Jane, he is perfectly beautiful… just like you!" whispered Elizabeth as she tucked in a loose corner of the newborn's blanket where he lay cradled in his mother's arms. It was true: Jane may have labored all night to bring the next generation of Bingleys into the world, but even her sweaty hair and tired eyes did not diminish the new mother's glow.

    "Oh Lizzy… 'Tis too much! By far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh! Why is not everyone as happy?" Jane had turned to her sister as she spoke, but her eyes soon drifted back her son as if by a magnet.

    Elizabeth only smiled. "Shall I summon your husband then, dearest?"

    If possible, Jane's expression became even more beatific. "Oh yes! But Lizzy, is Mama still resting?"

    Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth moved away toward the door. "I am quite certain that she shall inform us herself the very moment that she awakens." Having insisted upon being present for her eldest daughter's lying in, Mrs. Bennet's nerves had deteriorated steadily through the night. By two o'clock in the morning, her flutterings and wailings on all the worst possible outcomes of the birth had begun to affect even Jane's unshakable equanimity. Finally, Mrs. Darcy had taken the doctor aside and soon after, her mother had been provided with glass of wine liberally dosed with laudanum.

    Once Mrs. Bennet was settled in the adjoining sitting room, the birth had proceeded with remarkable ease. Even the midwife had proclaimed that young John Thomas Bingley (named for both grandfathers) was the sweetest and quietest babe she had ever seen.

    Elizabeth shared an understanding smile with Jane before leaving her sister to the temporary care of a maid and going in search of the gentlemen.

    Charles Bingley had begun the previous evening with a bottle of fine Scottish whiskey that his own late father had tucked away for a special occasion. Darcy had begun watering the wine as soon as it became clear that his friend's increasing inebriation would be marked by remorseless crowing over being the first of them to sire a child.

    Conscious that Bingley's less proper comments were precipitated by genuine anxiety for his wife, William might have allowed his friend to speak freely had Mr. Bennet not also been present. Before Charles began expounding upon his methods for guaranteeing such a success, his brother-in-law deftly turned all attention to the older gentleman and they spent the remainder of the night listening to stories of Jane and Elizabeth's childhood.

    As the sun's first, milky rays flowed out across the landscape, young Master Bingley was brought out to be admired by his many relations, an undertaking which he submitted to with the placidity one would expect of a child born to Jane and Charles. After being petted and cooed over, the small family was finally left to themselves while everyone else retreated to their own rooms, hoping to gain a few hours of sleep.

    Darcy had not entirely forgotten about his friend's boasts, however, and noting a thoughtful look upon his wife's face as she moved about their bedchamber, he asked softly, "Do you mind it? That they have a babe when we do not yet?"

    Elizabeth turned from her dressing table and, seeing the concern writ upon her husband's face, went to him directly.

    "I cannot say that seeing him does not make me wishful, but I trust that our own time will come soon enough. It has been such a busy year that there has been little time to worry over it, in truth." Running her hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders, her eyes twinkled with mischief. "In fact, I believe that I have learned something very important by observing Jane's travails."

    Not a little concerned, William looked at her questioningly.

    "When my time comes, my mother is not to be allowed within ten miles of the house!"

    Husband and wife were still chuckling when they extinguished the candles and went to bed.

    Three days later, two carriages could be seen departing Holloway Manor. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were attended by their daughter, although a different Miss Bennet than the one who had traveled with them from Hertfordshire. Having spent her summer days at Longbourn, Lydia had traveled north with her parents and been deposited at her school without complaint, having found Meryton's entertainments sadly lacking given her recent, broader experiences.

    Southbound, the hours on the road left Mr. Bennet pleasantly surprised by Kitty. Having spent so much time with the well-mannered and naturally quiet Miss Darcy over the summer, his second youngest no longer felt the need to be constantly competing for attention.

    To pass the time in the carriage, Kitty shyly brought out her portfolio and let her parents leaf through it. Though her mother was loud in exclaiming over her daughter's accomplishments, it was obvious that Mrs. Bennet cared little for the art itself and soon returned to complaining about the dust of the road and discomfort of the carriage.

    In contrast, Mr. Bennet's response was notable for its very restraint. Longbourn's master spent no little time studying his daughter's sketches and watercolors and his obvious pride made it relatively easy for Kitty to ignore her mother's periodic disparagements. To himself, Thomas vowed to encourage this new talent in the girl whom he had so long derided as silly and ignorant.

    Meanwhile, the three Darcys were very happy to return to the peace of Pemberley, although it was to be for less than a fortnight. William would have gladly ignored the Little Season, but Georgiana was showing signs of missing her friends in London and even Elizabeth had begun to mention several performances and exhibits that she wished to take in.

    The early days of autumn were busy. Darcy spent long hours in the saddle, riding the fields and checking on the tenant farms, even as Elizabeth worked with Mrs. Reynolds to see that Pemberley's larders were replenished with the cheeses, preserves, dried herbs and root vegetables from the home farm that would see them through the winter. Not a few times, the family found themselves discussing crop rotation and sheep sheering at the dinner table with such intensity that Georgiana could not help but laugh at them.

    Miss Darcy found herself participating in these activities far more than in past years as her new sister made a concerted effort to educate her on those duties for which the mistress of a great house and extensive estate was responsible. Georgiana applied herself to these new lessons with the diligence one would expect of a Darcy, although she found herself hoping that her own future would not involve a house quite so great, nor an estate quite so very large for she would much rather play and sing all day.

    As a result, the family settled into the most comfortable of the Darcy carriages for the trip to London with something like relief. "For what is 150 miles of good road? An easy distance, would you not call it, Mr. Darcy?" inquired that gentleman's wife impertinently.

    William attempted to look stern. "Pray do not remind me what I said then, for in hindsight I am well aware that my reasoning was perhaps not entirely... sound."

    "What can he mean, Georgiana? What could possibly leave your brother's mind in such disarray?"

    Elizabeth's teasing made William wish that his sister and her companion were miles away so that he might stop his wife's mouth in the most effective way he knew. Instead, he said only, "A pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman, as you are well aware, my dear."

    With her husband's dark eyes focused on her with such intensity, Lizzy quite forgot whatever teasing response she had planned to make.

    Georgiana, having become relatively inured to Elizabeth's sporting manner and her brother's undeniably affectionate responses, merely smiled at the pair before turning to Mrs. Annesley and inquiring if her companion's niece had recovered from her cold.

    The trip passed without event, thanks to good roads and favorable weather. Elizabeth found herself greeting the sight of Grosvenor Square with a great deal of fondness and much less anxiety than the previous spring. This time, there would be no royal audiences or grand balls to host, only some small gatherings with family and friends and such excursions as they chose for their own entertainment.

    Even so, they had been in Town for but a week when Mrs. Darcy found herself alone in her study one afternoon feeling exceedingly restless. Her husband was away until supper, meeting with her Uncle Gardiner and several other businessmen to consider a new investment opportunity.

    Lizzy considered the possibilities. She had finished checking the household accounts and finalized menus for the week. Neither books, nor embroidery, nor letters held any appeal. Really, she had no desire to sit at all. Unlatching the window, she gazed out upon the rear garden of Derwent House and finally realized what had her feet twitching--the sun was shining out of a clear blue sky and there was a delicious hint of autumn in the breeze.

    Now, how to take advantage of it? She preferred to leave the town landscaping to the gardeners, focusing her energies on her flowerbeds and rose garden at Pemberley where nosey neighbors wouldn't peek across the hedge and see Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy happily digging in the dirt, petticoats and sleeves six inches deep in mud. She considered a walk in the park, but she knew better than to take the sort of solitary ramble that was her habit in the country--she had faithfully promised her husband never to walk in a London park alone, which meant she would have to take a footman to follow her and that quite defeated the point of a solitary ramble.

    Besides, she rather felt in need of a goal.

    Chewing her lip, Elizabeth turned and surveyed the room, looking for inspiration. Her eye fell upon a cushion handsomely embroidered with every flower imaginable by her sister-in-law. Grinning to herself, she re-latched the window and headed down the hall to the music room. Opening that door quietly, she smirked at the sight before her. The normally proper Miss Darcy was currently slumped over the piano forte, leaning her chin on one hand, staring unseeingly out of the window while the other hand doodled upon the keys.

    "I don't believe I've ever heard that melody, Georgiana!" Elizabeth grinned with mischievous pleasure at seeing her sister jump.

    Reflexively sitting up straight (what would her brother say at such posture?), a series of easily readable emotions flickered across the younger lady's face. "Oh, oh… I… I was just… erm…" But her sister's sunny, amused smile allowed Georgiana to let go of the fear of being imperfect and smile back. "Oh Elizabeth, I just can't concentrate on anything. I want to be able to play this concerto at the Staffords' dinner party next week, but I just can't focus long enough to get through the first page, let alone the first movement!"

    "Ah, yes. I'm afraid I find myself afflicted by the same restlessness. I've considered the situation carefully and have concluded that the winds of change are blowing. Clearly, the only solution is to leave this house and fill our lungs with the fresh autumn air!"

    Georgiana giggled. "Where are you planning to go? The park will be rather muddy after all the rain last night."

    "Actually, a more urban excursion occurred to me. What say you to walking over to Piccadilly and perusing Mr. Hatchard's shelves? And of course we would also need to go next door and check if Senior Romano has any new music sheets--it would not do to arrive at the Staffords' without being aware of Herr Beethoven's latest!"

    Miss Darcy sprang to her feet and clapped her hands, bouncing on her toes and looking about twelve years old. "Oh that would be wonderful!"

    "Excellent!" said Elizabeth decisively. "Well then--I suppose we should change and gather what feminine accoutrements are necessary. Shall I meet you in the front hall in a half hour to commence our expedition?"

    Giggling happily, both ladies left for their rooms to be aided by maids in exchanging their comfortable day dresses for gowns smart enough to be seen by the ever watchful eyes of society (but still appropriate for an outing on London's rather dirty streets).

    The maids were efficient and the ladies eager, so it was perhaps not surprising when the two met at the top of the stairs, ready to depart ten minutes early. Both checking their watches, they smiled conspiratorially and descended the stairs with more enthusiasm than the stately town house had been accustomed to before the arrival of its newest mistress.

    Reaching the front hall, the ladies donned their wraps and greeted the manservant who was to accompany them. "Ah John. Excellent--shall we be on our way?" Elizabeth pulled on her gloves and smiled her thanks to the butler for opening the door.

    Reaching the front walk, both ladies drew deep breaths simultaneously, and, grinning at each other, started with eager steps in the direction of Mayfair.

    "Georgiana--that color does lovely things for your complexion," noted Mrs. Darcy.

    "Oh--thank you. I've always loved periwinkle. Well, almost always--I went through a lavender phase when I was thirteen, but fortunately it did not last long."

    "Ah, yes. It takes a rare woman who can wear lavender well. I've always thought it unfortunate that we must dress in black and lavender in times of mourning. Really--when does one need the comfort of cheerful colors more?"

    "Richard once told me that in China they wear white for mourning, and yellow in India. Oh--and red is the color traditionally worn by brides!"

    "It makes one think, doesn't it? I always imagine our ambassadors traveling to distant lands and dealing with the intricacies of language and politics, negotiating diplomatic treaties and trade agreements. But imagine all the little details that could sour the relationship. I wouldn't think twice before wearing a yellow gown to a ball, but I imagine that in India it would be as inappropriate as wearing black to an English assembly."

    Miss Darcy's thoughts had continued along more familial lines. "I hope that the Fitzwilliams' trip is going well. I know that Richard is there on assignment for the War Office, but I do wish that he and Mrs. Fitzwilliam have some time to see the sights."

    "Ah… in fact I received a letter from Charlotte only this morning--you may read it when we return home if you wish. She writes that, although your cousin has been quite busy during the day, they have enjoyed the theatre and any number of entertainments during the evenings. Not to mention a ball at the Royal Palace!"

    "But what does she do during the day when Richard is at the negotiations? Surely she doesn't have to stay in their rooms at the hotel?" worried Georgiana. She quite liked Charlotte Fitzwilliam's calm, practical outlook and was exceedingly pleased with her guardian's recent marriage.

    "Oh, no. Charlotte has befriended several of the other diplomats' wives and together they have visited the museums, academy exhibits, and whatnot. They even took a day trip to picnic by an old Moorish castle in the countryside! You must read her letter--she wrote it sitting at a café one afternoon, watching people strolling along the canal. It sounded most agreeable."

    Georgiana thanked her and the ladies continued their amiable chat until they neared their goal. Pausing outside the bookshop, Miss Darcy hesitated. "Elizabeth, would you mind terribly if I went to Romano's first? I fear that I am quite impatient to see what new music is in."

    Elizabeth smiled at such eagerness. "Of course, my dear. You see to your precious music, I'll see to my beloved books, and whoever is done first shall join the other, agreed?" Her sister nodded in understanding and moved quickly to the renowned purveyor of all things musical, the door tinkling its bell as she entered. Mrs. Darcy turned to the faithful footman. "John? I would say that we will be an hour, but I know myself well enough to warn you that it may be longer. I believe that Mr. Hatchard keeps a room with a fire and tea where you might wait, or perhaps you would prefer to enjoy the autumn air?"

    The man's face showed his appreciation for her thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Ma'am. I believe I'll stay right 'ere by the doors and watch the world go by, as it were."

    Mrs. Darcy smiled in understanding and turned to enter the bookstore.

    John Potter had been chosen out by Mr. Darcy as the appointed guardian for the Darcy ladies' excursions in town. Tall and broad-shouldered, the man had a face that might have looked more at home at a bare-knuckled boxing match than as a footman for the always respectable Darcys. However, his brawn was merely camouflage for a gentle giant. The man was well known in the kitchens for nursing a bedraggled kitten back to health after finding it starving in the mews. The kitten had grown into a superlative mouser but still sought John's bed for naps. Born the same year as Fitzwilliam Darcy, John was eight when his parents died in a house fire and his aunt (the Darcy's cook) brought him into the townhouse as a boot boy. As a result, John was deeply loyal to the Darcy family took his job as bodyguard seriously. Once the ladies were safely inside, he took a position by the wall where he might keep an eye on both doors. John's secret passion was horses, and an hour of watching the fine horseflesh moving along Piccadilly was a joy.

    More than an hour later, the doors of both shops opened simultaneously and the two ladies burst into laughter at their timing. With John following faithfully, they turned their steps toward home and began comparing purchases.

    Inspired by their discussion of the Fitzwilliams' recent travels, Elizabeth had discovered James Silk Buckingham's newly published memoire, Travels among the Arab Tribes. She was particularly pleased with herself because she knew for a fact that her husband had not yet been able to find a copy.

    Georgiana was bubbling over her own purchase of a new Haydn composition. She always enjoyed the lightness and humor of the composer's works and her fingers itched to attempt the melody. As they turned onto the graveled path to cut across _______ Park, she gave into temptation and loosened the string binding the folio for another peek.

    "Oh, Georgiana… be careful… I'm not sure…" But Elizabeth's words of caution were of no help when a gust of spring wind caused Miss Darcy to put one hand on her bonnet to keep it from blowing away, loosening her grip on the folio. The wind promptly plucked the Haydn score from her grasp and playfully blew it along the path. Lizzy moved quickly enough to snatch one page and Georgie rescued another from a young boy out for a walk with his nurse. The two ladies looked around to see John extracting a third page from a helpful bush.

    Shuffling the folio together, Georgiana continued to peer about anxiously. "Oh, thank you-- how could I be so clumsy? But there was a fourth page--did either of you see where it went?" Just then a flash of white caught her eye and she turned to see the final piece of parchment floating toward the duck pond. Without a thought, Georgie rushed toward the water although there was little hope of capturing the page before it was soaked.

    At the last moment, however, a gentleman walking by made a quick move and captured the sheet before it could be wetted. Thinking only of the music, Georgiana stepped up to the gentleman with none of the shyness that typically defined her interactions with strangers. "Oh, thank you so much, sir. I was so afraid I'd lost that page through my carelessness."

    The gentleman turned to look at her but made no move to return the pages. "Oh, yes, yes, of course. It was not a problem at all. But… if you will pardon my inquisitiveness… This is surely by Joseph Haydn and yet I do not recognize it all. Could this be some new composition?" He had looked back at the score in his hands while speaking but raised his eyes to the young lady.

    Somewhere Georgiana's mind noted automatically that he was a fairly young man, with wavy brown hair and serious blue eyes, yet her excitement over the recovered music carried her beyond her usual shyness. "Yes--I just found it at Senior Romano's. He said that one of Herr Haydn's students was going through his teacher's papers and found this forgotten sonata for piano. It was just a draft, but nearly complete so the student transcribed the final copy and it was only just published."

    The young man's excitement was palpable. "Magnificent! This is the first I have heard of it! I've always adored Haydn--his double variations--he has an ability to take a simple melody and use it to take you to so many different places."

    Georgiana could not help but respond. "Oh yes, and his humor! His 'Surprise' symphony is one of my favorites."

    At this point the pair noticed Mrs. Darcy joining them. Intrigued with the sight of the normally shy Georgiana in animated conversation with an unknown gentleman, she had slowed her steps, both to observe the interaction and to give the pair a few more moments to converse. She observed a slim young man in his mid-twenties, perhaps not classically handsome but with a certain honest joie de vivre in his eager face that she could not help but like. He was dressed in a conservative fashion but a closer look made her think the impeccable tailoring and high-quality fabrics were of a standard that even her fastidious husband would admire. This thought of her husband reminded her that she should be taking a more active role in chaperoning her newest sister.

    "Well Georgiana, I see that your afternoon of musical rapture has been saved by a white knight guarding the duck pond from flying folios."

    "Elizabeth! We've just been speaking of Mr. Haydn's work. Oh, I should make introductions. This is my sister, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy… but, oh dear… I do not know who you are at all, sir."

    "Lord Jonah Somerset, at your service ladies," he said with a grin and a bow.

    Elizabeth smiled in approval. "Excellent--and allow me in turn introduce you, Lord Somerset, to my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy."

    After the conversation of Haydn had continued for some minutes, Elizabeth checked her watch and determined that her husband would be returning home soon. Reluctant to put a halt to Georgiana's unabated enthusiasm for her new acquaintance, she waited for a pause in the pair's conversation to interject, "Lord Somerset; we must be getting home but I wonder if you might join us for tea? Perhaps we might even take it in the music room?"

    Georgiana seconded the invitation eagerly. "Oh yes, do come. The townhouse is just over on Brooke Street and my piano forte was tuned only this morning."

    Without hesitation, the young gentleman agreed. "Thank you, Mrs. Darcy, Miss Darcy. I cannot think of anything I would like to do more."

    The happy couple started in the direction of the Darcy townhouse, still chattering about music and followed by a contemplative Elizabeth and a watchful John. Elizabeth recognized Somerset as the family name of the Duke of Grafton, but not knowing any of the family she was not certain how Jonah might fit into the family tree.

    Upon arriving at Derwent House, the ladies and gentleman handed over their wraps to the waiting servants. In truth, Georgiana barely paused and soon swept her new acquaintance away to the music room. Elizabeth paused to inquire after her husband (still not home) and ask for tea before picking up her new book and following in Georgiana's footsteps to do her duty as chaperone.

    Lord Somerset was admiring the various instruments in the room while Georgiana gave their history. The piano was a fine Broadwood, less than five years old, a gift from her brother. When he admired the harp, the young lady's smile softened. "It was my mother's. Brother has offered to buy me a new one--one of the pedals tends to stick--but I cannot part with it. It has such a warm sound that it makes me feel as though my mother is smiling down upon me when I play. But you will think me fanciful…" Georgiana lowered her eyes in embarrassment and was turning away when Jonah spoke softly.

    "Not at all! You shall know me to be equally fanciful when I tell you I am quite certain that instruments have personalities. The piano in my sister Dora's house, for example, is quite pompous and dislikes me immensely. Which is quite unfortunate because whenever I am there for a supper, she asks me to play. I doubt if even Herr Mozart himself would recognize his own compositions!"

    Georgiana raised her eyes and, feeling reassured, managed a smile and so he continued. "Did your mother pass on recently?"

    She shook her head sadly. "No, it was soon after my birth. Truly, I have no memories of her other than those stories told by my father and brother. She was very musical, so I suppose that is why I am so sentimental about her instruments."

    At this moment the tea arrived, prompting the pair to move over to the chairs where Elizabeth had already settled herself. "I myself have recently spent several months with my own dear mother as she recuperated from an illness; I can only imagine the pain of losing a parent," admitted Jonah.

    As Georgiana made sympathetic noises, Elizabeth joined the conversation while handing the gentleman his cup. "I hope your mother is now recovered?"

    Nodding his thanks for the tea, Jonah answered with a faraway look in his eyes. "Yes, Mama is a force of nature--it was a shock to see her ill. She was bedridden for much of the winter and spring and I did my best to keep her entertained. She has not much talent but a great enjoyment of music, so I've been in Gloucestershire much of the last year, doing what I can to keep her amused."

    The conversation continued comfortably until the refreshments were finished and, with Elizabeth's permission, the young couple moved back to the piano and began exploring the new Haydn composition. Elizabeth settled down with her new book, deciding that in the situation of Georgiana Darcy comfortably interacting with a newly met and seemingly respectable young man, she would happily ignore Society's conventions for the proper length of a visit.

    Some time later, Fitzwilliam Darcy arrived home and was pleased to hear that his wife and sister were in the music room. Opening the door quietly, he noted Georgiana at the piano but his eyes were all for his wife.

    Feeling his eyes on her, Elizabeth looked up and smiled as her husband strode toward her. She stood to meet him and he took both her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs along her knuckles and kissing her cheek. Looking into his warm eyes, Elizabeth commented softly, "You seem pleased to be home, my love."

    Darcy squeezed her hands. "Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. Walking here from Alfred's, I was struck by how much my life has changed for the better. Instead of a cold, lonely house where I probably would have retired to my study to lose myself in work for the evening, I had the warmth of a home to look forward to. My lovely wife, you cannot know the changes you have made around here." He rested his forehead against hers.

    Elizabeth was recalled to the present by the sudden silence at the piano. Still holding his hand, she turned her husband's attention to the other side of the room. "Sir, we have been entertaining a new acquaintance this afternoon."

    Smiling to Jonah who was currently seated at the piano, she amended, "Or perhaps I should say that he has been entertaining us? Lord Somerset, please allow me to introduce my husband, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Mr. Darcy, this is Lord Jonah Somerset. He has performed your sister the great service of saving her new music sheets from being lost to the ducks in the Hyde Park pond."

    After the gentlemen performed their bows, Jonah eagerly engaged the taller gentleman. "Mr. Darcy, I don't believe we've ever met--I fear I'm not much for Society--but you might know one of my elder brothers? Granville? Perhaps from the fencing club? We were supping together the other night and he mentioned how much he admired your skill with a saber."

    Despite his wife's assistance and his own attempts to practice, Fitzwilliam Darcy remained uncomfortable conversing with strangers, and most particularly those who might represent suitors of his baby sister. However, the young man before him reminded him distinctly of Charles Bingley in his friendly and open manner. In addition, the topics contained in Jonah's first conversational gambit could hardly have been better chosen to please him.

    In short, Elizabeth Darcy had the very great pleasure of seeing her husband smile at the strange gentleman.

    "Well, as my wife and sister will tell you, I am not much for Society myself. I'm not closely acquainted with your brother, but we do share a fencing master and have matched blades a number of times. Do you fence yourself, sir?"

    "I learnt as a boy, but I'm afraid that I haven't stuck with it. I tend more toward riding and athletics for my exercise. My father often jokes that Granville and my elder brothers quite beat any interest out of me by using me as a practice partner during our youth. Honestly though, my interests turned to music at a young age and little can tempt me away from my practice." Jonah shared a shy smile with Miss Darcy.

    "Brother--I found a new composition by Mr. Haydn at Romano's this afternoon. Lord Jonah and I have been working our way through it."

    Darcy could not help but be pleased with the look of guileless pleasure that bloomed on both young faces before him.

    Before the conversation might continue, however, the door opened for the housekeeper to enter. When she enquired of Mrs. Darcy as to when supper should be served, Jonah checked his watch and, seeing that the time was past five, sadly announced that he must depart. Before doing so, he expressed his desire to call again on the Darcys and a time and date was quickly arranged.

    After Jonah was shown to the door, Georgiana chattered happily to her brother for a few minutes and then left for her rooms to change for supper. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy retreated to their own suite and were soon happily ensconced on the chaise before the fire, Elizabeth's head resting upon Darcy's shoulder and his arms wrapped around her waist.

    Tilting her head to look up at his handsome face, Elizabeth raised a hand to stroke his cheek and noted, "That is a very thoughtful look you have on your face, my love. I hope you are not going to say you have heard ill tidings of our recent guest. He seemed a respectable, intelligent gentleman and I must say, I've never seen Georgiana so easy with any young man, even those of significantly longer acquaintance."

    Will sighed, then kissed the top of his wife's head, tightening his arms around her. "No indeed. The Somersets are highly respectable and what little I've heard of Lord Jonah has been positive. I will ask around, but my only concern is how his family might react. He is one of the Duke of Grafton's younger sons, and the Fitzwilliams have a history of desiring the connection but being rebuffed."

    "Oh dear. I would hate to see family pressure hamper such a promising beginning. Do you know if it is a recent quarrel, or one whose subject is lost in the mists of time while the ardor is carried on from father to son?"

    Darcy smiled and kissed her brow again. "In fact, I believe it has to do with a woman named Elizabeth."

    He waited until his own Elizabeth looked up at him and quirked her eyebrow before continuing. "She was the only daughter of a Baron, favorite niece of the Duke of Grafton, beautiful and intelligent but also well-used to being the apple of her father and uncle's eye. The Earl of Matlock's eldest son attempted to court her, but she chose a friend of her brother's, a poor and unconnected vicar. At that point, the Fitzwilliams were still regarded as nouveau riche, and they took great offence at what they perceived as a slight. In truth, I like to think that the Somersets' consideration was more for the young lady's affection than any suitor's consequence. My grandmother Darcy knew her, you see, and told me a very different version of the story than I had heard from the Fitzwiliams."

    Lizzy merely smiled and squeezed her husband's arms closer.

    He sighed before continueing in a resigned tone. "Well, nothing may come of it, but I will admit that I've never seen Georgie so happy with a new acquaintance." With that, Fitzwilliam Darcy pulled his wife into his lap and set out to reacquaint himself with his own Elizabeth.

    Chapter 58. Increasing Incivility.

    Posted on 2012-09-17

    September 1819

    Lord Jonah was as good as his word, calling at Derwent House the very next day and spending no less than an hour with Miss Darcy discussing music. Elizabeth was unable to be present during his third visit but Mrs. Annesley reported that the pair had been entirely proper in their behavior (if inattentive to their companion once focused on the instrument).

    Mrs. Darcy shared a smile with the older woman. "Well, I have always believed that increasing incivility to others is an excellent indicator of the strength of a couple's affections."

    A week later saw them meeting again at the Hilliards' ball. Standing with her brother and his wife, Georgiana' face lit up with pleasure upon seeing Lord Jonah eagerly making his way toward them through the crush. After making his salutations to her companions, he requested Miss Darcy's hand for the next set and soon the dowagers were wagging their chins over how handsome the pair looked together.

    Happily, the young couple remained blissfully ignorant of this general observation.

    Darcy did his best to suppress a rather mawkish sigh at the sight of his sister's pleasure but could not entirely hide his maudlin sensibilities from his wife. Understanding him completely, Elizabeth laced both hands around his arm in comfort and he attempted a weak smile.

    William was about to reassure her of his equanimity when a wrinkled nose expanded to such an expression of barely masked disgust on the face of Mrs. Darcy that he was left looking around to see if the pigs had somehow gotten loose in the ballroom.

    "Good heavens--what on Earth is that odour!?!" exclaimed Elizabeth, only barely managing to keep her voice to a whisper.

    Darcy admitted that he could detect nothing but took note of a rather portly, foppish gentleman who had just joined a group nearby. In his experience, such sartorial extravagance was too often associated with immoderate applications of eau de parfum and so he adeptly guided his wife in the opposite direction.

    For her part, Elizabeth was wild to move, fearing that if she remained one second longer she would be forced to burrow her face in her husband's coat.

    When Lord Jonah led Miss Darcy off the dance floor at last, both had happy smiles and pink cheeks. They discovered her brother and sister at the punch table where Elizabeth had appropriated a sprig of mint and was holding its crushed leaves under her nose while teasing her husband over some oddity in their company. The foursome launched into an easy conversation about the orchestra playing in the balcony and the acoustics of the ballroom.

    After some minutes, Mrs. Darcy noticed a tall, stately gentleman with graying hair and an impressively aristocratic nose approaching with a plump woman on his arm, followed by two younger ladies closer to Elizabeth's own age. The gentleman had a generally serious demeanor but was clearly amused to be was propelled along by the surrounding females. When they reached the Darcys, Jonah took immediate notice and greeted them with genuine pleasure, acknowledging his father with sincere respect and kissing his mother's cheek tenderly.

    "Son, would you do us the honor of introducing your friends?"

    "Of course, sir. Allow me to present Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, his wife Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy, and their sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy. Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, Miss Darcy, may I introduce my father, Lord Henry Somerset, Duke of Grafton, my mother Lady Alice Somerset, and my sisters, Lady Isabella Tripp and Lady Violet Hubbard."

    After the various bows and curtsies were made for such a portentous introduction, the Duke entered into some mild conversation with Mr. Darcy, having heard from his elder son of that gentleman's skill with a foil. After ascertaining some detail of Darcy's training, His Grace admitted that his own participation in the sport had been limited to observing his sons' bouts since an injury several years prior.

    Lord Henry looked with obvious affection toward his duchess. "My wife informs me that I am not allowed to complain, however, as it was entirely my own fault. You see, I decided to ride my young new thoroughbred at our annual fox hunt instead of my reliable old hunter."

    "He was trying to impress his friends," Lady Alice whispered loudly, prompting laughter from the ladies.

    Obviously long accustomed to her teasing, the Duke conceded easily; "The colt was a superb jumper but once his blood was up he began seeing monsters behind every shrub and fence. In the end, he returned himself to the safety of his barn, leaving me in one of the lower fields with a broken leg. I was quite lucky that my physician was riding with me--otherwise the hounds might have mistaken me for the beast of the chase!"

    His wife continued her commentary. "That might have been the better solution. As it was, he was bedridden for two months and could not mount a horse for nearly six. You have never seen a more impatient patient than Grafton with a houseful of guests at the beginning of hunting season!"

    After the laughter subsided, the gentlemen's conversation turned to horse breeding while Lady Alice addressed the ladies. "Every so often I offer to have his bed moved out to the stable, as he spends so much time there. I sincerely hope that your husband has already danced with you, Mrs. Darcy, because mine will not release him until they have dissected the ancestry of every last horse in both of their stables and anything new coming up for sale at Tattersall's."

    Elizabeth exchanged a genuine smile. "Honestly, I have rarely seen Mr. Darcy so happily engaged in conversation at a ball."

    Georgiana could not help but interject; "Oh, but Elizabeth, he is so much improved since he met you. My cousins tell stories of how he would glare at everyone and refuse to dance."

    Lizzy laughed. "Yes Georgiana, that was precisely what he was doing when we first met and I will admit to his success--I had absolutely no interest in speaking with him!"

    By now Lady Alice was well pleased at the open affection exhibited by Mrs. Darcy for her husband. She had seen too many of the matches among her circle turn sour, marriages of convenience that placed foremost importance on finances and connections. She was very sure that her younger son could never be happy in such an arrangement and was determined to know more of this family. "You are recently married, Mrs. Darcy?"

    The lady blushed lightly. "Our first anniversary will be at the end of the month."

    "And how did you meet?"

    "Mr. Darcy's friend had leased an estate adjacent to my father's in Hertfordshire. We met at a country assembly where he was glowering down at the local populace. I fear that it took me some time to get over that first impression." Smiling at the memory, Elizabeth caught the eye of her husband and Lady Alice observed them silently communicate.

    As Jonah and Georgiana moved to discuss a recent operatic performance with his elder sister, Lady Violet took advantage of the pause in conversation to interject her own question. "Mrs. Darcy, I believe that you are acquainted with my friend, Lily Davenport, or Mrs. Trevor I suppose I should say now."

    Elizabeth could not help but be pleased. "Such a small world! How do you know Lily?"

    "We were dear friends at school."

    Lady Alice smiled affectionately at her daughter. "Ah yes, one of your fellow jardinières."

    Violet blushed but felt obliged by Mrs. Darcy's puzzled expression to explain. "Four of us arrived at school with floral names--Miss Lily Davenport, Miss Lavender Owen, and Lady Marigold Pettigrew. The older girls mocked us no end, but we discovered that we liked each other so well that we were happy to own those names that they considered to be Aunt Sallies."

    Elizabeth laughed aloud, well pleased with this lady. "Well then, at some point I hope that you will allow me to introduce my aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner."

    This happy conversation was broken up after not many more minutes when some other personages appeared to claim the attention of the Duke and Duchess. Before she turned her attention away, however, Lady Alice arranged a day for the Darcy ladies to call upon her.

    So it was that on a Friday morning not many days later, Mr. Darcy opened the door to his wife's study, having knocked but hearing no response. He was not tremendously surprised to find her standing at the open window, looking out onto the rear garden with an unfocused gaze.

    Guessing at her mood, William stepped behind her so that he might rest his hands on her shoulders. "I can guess the subject of your reverie."

    Lizzy nearly jumped out of her skin but found that the look of boyish gratification that lit up his face at surprising her made it impossible to reprove him. She settled for a raised eyebrow. "I should imagine not."

    He smiled at the challenge. "You are considering how insupportable it would be to spend many more days in this manner--in such society! The insipidity and yet the noise; the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people! In short, you are wishing that we might leave for the country as soon as the trunks can be packed."

    Elizabeth laughed aloud, thinking not for the first time that if she had understood his true tendencies with regard to town and country, they might have come to an understanding much earlier in their acquaintance. "Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. Though I cannot argue with the notion; the air in London is particularly disagreeable this autumn," she said as she moved to close the window.

    Turning to face him, Elizabeth smiled impishly and ran her hands up the lapels of his coat. "I have been thinking that we ought to host a dinner party next week." She was pleased when he did not tense--he would never be lively, but with her guidance he was becoming less unsocial.

    "And why on Earth would we want to do such a thing?" He kissed her pert nose to show he was teasing.

    "Well, Richard and Charlotte are to return on Monday. I had thought that we might invite Lord Jonah and the Somersets."

    Looking up into his dear face, Elizabeth saw his usual solemnity on the subject flood her husband's eyes. "Will--I believe that Georgiana and Jonah are well on their way to falling in love. As much as I despise my mother's bellicose style of match making, I am not opposed to making sure that they have opportunities to know each other better."

    Seeing that Darcy continued to look grim, she added, "As her other guardian, Richard should meet Jonah and, given what you have told me on the relationship between the Somersets and Fitzwilliams, we need to do what we can to help Georgiana be accepted by the Duke and his family."

    Darcy held her silently for some minutes while staring out of the window, deep in thought. Understanding his need to consider the situation, Elizabeth remained silent, amusing herself by guessing at the emotions that flickered across his face.

    Eventually, he recalled his place and, recognizing her patience, kissed her hair. "Thank God I married you, Lizzy." Seeing her quirked eyebrow at such a heartfelt statement, he explained his thinking further. "You are absolutely correct--Georgiana seems to like Lord Jonah a great deal and the dinner party would be an excellent way to smooth the connection between the families. I was just reflecting that Richard and I would never have thought of such a thing. Or if it had occurred to us, I am not certain how we would have gone about it. As much as I love Aunt Eleanor, I can't help but believe that it would not be wise to introduce the Earl to the Somersets just yet."

    Elizabeth only laughed at his conclusions. "I am certain that the pair of you would have managed perfectly well. Well, as long as you did not chase off all of her suitors--I suppose that Georgie might have ended up a lonely spinster haunting the Pemberley attics until some brave gentleman managed to pass whatever trials the pair of you conjured."

    "Should I have been King Minos then, and had Daedalus design a labyrinth for the park?"

    Giggling, she responded, "I suppose that if you claim to be Minos, it follows that you consider your cousin eligible to play the Minotaur; I shall be sure to inform Richard of that when I see him next."

    William could not help but chuckle at the picture her words painted. After some minutes of silly banter littered with increasingly ridiculous references to Greek mythology, they eventually returned to the original subject.

    "So, when shall this momentous dinner occur?" he inquired, pretending a stern demeanor and feeling amply rewarded by his wife's sunny smile.

    "Would Wednesday next be too soon, do you think? She moved to her desk and picked up an envelope. "I was reading Kitty's letter just before you came. Papa has agreed to bring her to London so that she may view an exhibit of Mr. Turner's watercolours at the Royal Academy, so long as he may spend some time loitering in our library."

    William smiled at his wife. "Am I guessing that the price will be his attendance at your dinner party?" At her decisive nod, he chuckled. "Well done, my love. Your father will be happy to see two of his favorite daughters in all their finery, and, if I'm not mistaken, you are thinking that his dry wit might do well in entertaining Grafton?"

    "Only if the Duke manages to tear himself away from your cousin--they are equally horse-mad, I believe," she responded with great satisfaction. It went without saying that Charlotte's good-humored calm and Richard's lively intelligence were a blessing to any hostess attempting to mesh together an unknown assortment of personnel around her table.

    Darcy laughed aloud, for indeed it had come as no surprise to any of the family when his cousin had chosen the cavalry. "Well then, it appears that you have everything well in hand. I have an appointment at my club this afternoon, but I hope to hear all about your tea this evening?

    At her agreement he kissed her again. "What would I do without you?"

    "Hmmmm… lean on mantles and glower at the populace? Stare out of windows and fiddle with your signet ring? Insult young ladies in want of a dance partner?"

    "Minx." After a long, heated kiss, Mr. Darcy added another promise for after supper that evening before departing.

    Not much later, Mrs. and Miss Darcy departed Derwent House for their call on the Somerset ladies. After several minutes of silence, Lizzy noted that her sister's anxious fingers had twisted her handkerchief into a knot. Reaching over, she squeezed her sister's hand, smiling gently.

    "Oh Lizzy, I am soooo nervous."

    "Really Georgie, I never would have guessed," teased her sister as she extracted the abused piece of frayed linen and hid it away in her reticule, handing the girl a pristine replacement. "You have met them before."

    "But Jonah was there. I just realized how much I want his family to like me. I'm so afraid that I will say something wrong. But if I'm silent, then they might think I'm a proud. Oh Lizzy, what am I to do?"

    Elizabeth realized that the poor girl was rapidly working herself into a bundle of nerves. Checking her watch and thinking quickly, she leaned forward in the open carriage and called to the driver. "James--could you take us in a loop around the park? Perhaps ten minutes, and then to Somerset House?" Seeing the driver nod, she turned back to Georgiana.

    "Georgie, dear. I want you to close your eyes and take three deep breaths, and then open them and look around you. Look at the trees, the leaves turning autumn colours, the birds. The sky and the sun and those puffy white clouds scudding across the blue."

    Seeing Georgiana do as she instructed, she noted some of the tension leaching out of the girl. "Now, in your heart, you know how you feel about Jonah, and your heart knows how he admires you in return. That is your foundation. We are going to meet his mother and sisters and I hope that they are of a quality to become more than acquaintances but, in the end, it is Jonah that matters, yes?"

    Georgie sat quietly for some minutes, until a soft smile grew slowly on her face. "Thank you, Lizzy." She looked shyly at her sister. "I feel such an affection for him, you know. Not like my silly infatuation with George Wickham--I think I was in love with the idea of being in love then. But with Jonah--I can see us having friends over to our home for evenings of music… I can see us alone enjoying each other's company… Oh Lizzy, I want to grow old with him."

    Elizabeth smiled at her sister and, in the middle of the park in the middle of the day, gave the girl a hug. "That, my dear, is exactly how I feel about your brother, and we will do everything in our power to ensure your happiness."

    Georgie smiled happily and squeezed the other woman's hand. "Thank you, Lizzy. You are right--Jonah cares for me, and I can face anything knowing that."

    Lizzy smiled and squeezed back. "Excellent, my dear, because there is no turning back, now!" The carriage had arrived at Portman Square and a footman wearing the Duke of Grafton's livery stepped forward to open the door. Stepping down from the carriage and squaring their shoulders, the Darcy ladies entered the House of Somerset for the first time.

    They were shown to a drawing room and Lizzy's first impression was of light and femininity--there were several pots of autumn flowers around the room and a set of French doors were opened onto a rear garden. Smiling with pleasure, she turned her attention to the occupants.

    "Mrs. Darcy, I am so pleased that you could come," said the Duchess with genuine warmth as she came forward to take her guest's hands in a friendly gesture of welcome. "And Miss Darcy--what a lovely gown. You will think that I had this room decorated just for you."

    The ladies laughed and Georgiana's cheeks pinked, seeing that her dress of light fern green did indeed match the colors of the room. The Duchess patted her arm and leaned closer to whisper, "It has been my favorite colour since childhood. Though all of my daughters despise it."

    Violet had come to stand by her mother and added, "Well, you could hardly expect otherwise, Mother. From our nursery walls to our quilts to our dresses--I remember Harriet joking that she wanted to paint the walls of her room black because it was the only color in which she wouldn't see shades of green."

    Elizabeth joined in good naturedly, "Consider yourself lucky. My mother was (and is) terribly fond of a particularly bold shade of pink. I remember one time in particular when she attempted to dress me in it from head to toe with matching bonnet, ribbons and lace."

    The other ladies groaned. "Yes, you can imagine. She was extremely angry when I was so clumsy as to knock an ink well over, staining the bodice and skirt before I'd ever had a chance to wear it out."

    By now, all the ladies were laughing. The Duchess shook her finger at them with mock severity. "Just you wait until you have daughters of your own--see what sorts of fashions they come to you with, then you shall understand what we mothers go through."

    As the laughter subsided, Lady Alice took charge. "Well now, Mrs. Darcy, Miss Darcy, you know Violet and Isabella, of course, but I don't believe you have met my eldest son's wife, Lady Lavender Somerset--they have just returned from the country."

    As the ladies greeted each other, Elizabeth did her best to control her amusement but the younger lady saw her lips twitch and turned to her mother-in-law with mock severity. "Mother Somerset!" Turning to Lizzy and Georgiana, she continued with a mildly pained expression, "Please, I go by Ava--I don't know what my parents were thinking--Lady Lavender, indeed! It sounds like a character in a gothic romance novel… or perhaps a comedy"

    Lizzy smiled, immediately liking this slender lady with the twinkling eyes and sensible hairstyle. "And I am Elizabeth, or Lizzy. Please not Eliza!"

    With a sudden burst of sisterly camaraderie, Georgiana added "And I am Georgiana, or Georgie."

    With much laughter, the ladies sat down to tea, exclaiming over the variety of cakes. Georgiana was drawn into conversation with the Duchess and Isabella who encouraged her to tell of her childhood at Pemberley and love of music. Ava, Violet and Lizzy had settled opposite and quickly found that their initial impressions showed all signs of growing into a true friendship.

    After nearly an hour of conversation and laughter, Elizabeth remembered one of her goals of the visit. At the next pause, she turned to the Duchess. "Lady Alice, Mr. Darcy and I are planning a small dinner party next Wednesday and wondered if you and your family might honor us with your attendance? My husband's cousin, the recently retired Brigadier General Richard Fitzwilliam, is returning from the negotiations in Spain this weekend. I hope that we shall be a merry party with much interesting conversation."

    The Duchess' twinkling eyes met Elizabeth's. "Why thank you, my dear-- that would be lovely. Mr. Fitzwilliam is Miss Darcy's other guardian, is he not?"

    Elizabeth very nearly laughed out loud. Clearly she had a collaborator. "He is, indeed. He wrote to my husband that he and his wife are planning their return trip so as to visit several horse farms on the way home. Charlotte fears that they may have to convert the ground floor of their new townhouse into stables."

    The Duchess and the other ladies chuckled as Theodora responded, "Oh nothing could keep Papa away now! I believe his greatest complaint about Napoleon was that the war blocked import of horses from the rest of Europe! I fear we shall hear nothing else from him all night!"

    "Andrew as well!" added Isabella.

    "Oh for goodness sake, Izzy, please don't let my husband hear of this idea of converting the house to stables… I've only just redecorated the drawing room!"

    They all turned to Mrs. Darcy who was trying so hard to control her laughter that she had only succeeded in tearing up. Dabbing at her eyes, she waved her hand and apologized; "It is nothing really. Just that my family has always called me Lizzy, and I can already imagine the amusement that my father is going to have with Izzy and Lizzy sitting down at the same table!"

    After much laughter, attendance for the dinner party was sorted out and the Darcys took their leave. Georgiana was relieved beyond measure that the Somerset ladies appeared perfectly amiable and chattered with bubbly abandon all the way home.

    Elizabeth listened with empathetic amusement, for it was not so long ago that she herself had felt much the same upon being presented to the Fitzwilliam family. Though she would never suggest as much to her husband, she began to consider how lovely a summer wedding at Pemberley might be.

    Chapter 59. Inferior Connections.

    Posted on 2012-11-14

    September 1819

    "And with the Gardiners, that makes us twenty," said Elizabeth, running her finger down her list for the upcoming dinner party. "I still find it amazing that Lord Jonah has eight brothers and sisters--I suppose we should be relieved that not all could attend or we would barely be able to see each other down the table!"

    Darcy was still considering the invitations, however. "The Gardiners? Are you certain that is feasible?"

    "Why ever not? I am not speaking of the children, only Aunt Maddy and Uncle Edward." Suddenly Elizabeth's animated demeanor melted into exasperation. "Or are you suggesting that my relations are to be hidden away now that your sister is being courted by the son of a Duke?"

    Had William not been looking at his wife's face, he honestly would have thought that she was teasing. However, he recognized the look in her sparkling eyes from those expressions she had cast his way in the early days of their association. Casting his mind over their recent conversation, he found himself more puzzled than affronted.

    "You misunderstand me, Elizabeth. I questioned the Gardiners' invitation only because I had believed that they were still in Kent. Surely you know how highly I regard your aunt and uncle?"

    Fitzwilliam Darcy was not a man to do things by halves; once Miss Elizabeth Bennet had forced him to examine his prideful attitudes, he had made it his practice to eradicate those failings in his character. He looked on, concerned, as his wife shut her eyes and rubbed her forehead, sighing, "Forgive me--I know not why I said such a thing."

    "Not at all--I am not offended, only concerned that you believe I still harbor such sentiments."

    Elizabeth stood and flung her hands out. "But I don't! I am only being silly and missish." She managed a chagrined smile. "I nearly took Tilly's head off this morning. Shall I complain about my nerves now so that I may fully manage the transformation into my mother?" Rubbing her forehead again, she murmured more quietly, "Soon I shall not be fit to live with."

    Sensing that his wife was truly experiencing some discomposure of spirits, William moved to take her in his arms. "No offense to your mother, dearest, but you are nothing like her."

    Unable to repress the tears that suddenly welled up, Lizzy pressed her face into his shoulder and sighed deeply. "And you are the best man I have ever known." It took several more deep breaths to steady her emotions before she forced herself to step away. "Now, I must speak to Cook about the menu. You will consider my idea about hosting a hunting party and harvest ball at Pemberley in November?"

    Seeing her husband's unenthusiastic expression, she laughed and pressed a quick kiss on his cheek. "Think of it as a way to complete all of your social obligations to our country neighbors in a single weekend, rather than stretched out over months."

    Darcy could not help but chuckle and agree that such an approach would be well in keeping with his own disposition. Even so, he watched Elizabeth leave his study with some uneasiness, still uncertain what he had done to produce such misgivings in his wife.

    Elizabeth's seemingly boundless energy since arriving in London had taken him by surprise. Though it was only the Little Season, he had found himself escorting her to any number of dinners and balls, exhibitions and walking parties. In addition, Elizabeth had thrown herself into charity work, determined to visit all of those institutions that the Darcy family had traditionally supported as well as several others she desired to add.

    Initially, William had found such devotion pleasing and entirely in keeping with the caring nature that he had long admired in her. However, he began to question the ambitiousness of her plans after listening to her enthuse about the fundraisers she was arranging over breakfast one morning. "Are you certain that you have time for all of this, my dear? We had only planned to be in town for a few more weeks," he had inquired carefully, not wanting to diminish her fervor.

    Elizabeth had merely laughed lightly, assuring him, "And yet I am determined! I have a list and I am resolved to complete it before we leave!" And with that, she gave her husband a peck on the cheek before fairly skipping out of the room.

    Darcy had begun to worry that, despite her reassurances, his lively wife had found the quiet life that he and his sister led at Pemberley to be too dull for her nature. Determined to see her happy, he resolved to quell his unsocial tendencies and increase their interactions with the neighboring estates when they returned to Derbyshire; the first step would be to host a harvest ball. He found that the plan was much less unpleasant now that he could look forward to dancing with his wife.

    After a few minutes of musing over the very great pleasure he derived from seeing Elizabeth in a ball gown, William turned to his own source of anxiety; an invitation from the Duke of Graften to dine together at that gentleman's club.

    Mr. Darcy was not a man given to anxiety over his position in Society but the prospect of dining with a peer of such elevated status would be daunting to anyone, particularly as he was well aware that a poor performance on his part might well diminish his dear sister's chances of making a match that appeared to be increasingly necessary to her future happiness. He remembered hearing his Uncle Henry and Aunt Catherine lament over the Fitzwilliam family's lack of connection to the Somersets and their own inability to gain entrance to that family's intimate circle. Though not of royal blood, the Duke of Graften's wealth and properties were extensive, as were the family's power in politics and Society.

    After descending from his carriage, Darcy paused for a moment to admire the architecture of the building that housed Brooks's, that most exclusive of gentlemen's clubs. He, like his ancestors before him, held a membership at White's as a matter of course although he rarely visited, preferring the quiet, intellectual atmosphere of Alfred's to the notorious gambling of the others. For the first time, it occurred to William that his discomfort with White's might also stem from the conflict of his own, more liberal beliefs against those espoused by the other members of what had become the unofficial headquarters of the Tory party.

    However, he soon reminded himself that the present was not an appropriate time to meditate on such issues and turned his focus toward his current appointment. Presenting his card to the doorman, Mr. Darcy noted, "The Duke of Graften is expecting me."

    Once admitted, he turned over his hat and coat to an attendant before following an elderly manservant through the lobby, past several noisy club rooms and along a quieter hallway to a private dining room. "Mr. Darcy, sir."

    "Ah Mr. Darcy--excellent!" exclaimed the Duke, rising from his seat to shake his guest's hand. "Now, have you met my eldest, Andrew, Marquess of Worcester? He and his wife have just arrived in town from Gloucestershire."

    As the two younger gentlemen exchanged courtesies, Graften turned back to the manservant. "That will be all for now, Abernathy. Please see that our luncheon is served in a quarter hour." Once the servant had departed, silently closing the door behind him, the Duke turned back to the two younger gentlemen and offered Darcy a glass of wine.

    "Thank you, your Grace. And thank you again for your invitation," responded William in a measured tone.

    "Of course, of course. Let us drink-- to new acquaintances," Graften raised his glass in a toast.

    Once the three gentlemen tasted the wine and complimented the vintage, the Marquess spoke first. "I hope you do not mind that I invited myself along, Mr. Darcy. I find it odd that we have never met before, although I am acquainted with your cousin."

    Worcester was about six years Darcy's senior, tall and lean with the appearance of a man who spent a great deal of time out-of-doors but with nothing otherwise very remarkable about his features. As they became better acquainted, William would come to understand that the Duke's heir was perfectly content with that state of affairs, vastly preferring to fade into the crowd and avoid the Ton's attention whenever possible.

    With a sinking feeling, William inquired as to which cousin the Marquess was referring.

    Studying the other man intently, Worcester responded, "Matlock's eldest son, Lord Edward Fitzwilliam. I was a year behind him at Eton, although I would not say that I was ever particularly well acquainted with him or his friends."

    Though widely known for his inscrutability, Darcy could not prevent some of the distaste he felt from flickering across his face and responded only, "Ashbourn and I have never been particularly intimate. His younger brother, however, is one of my closest friends."

    "Ah yes, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam--no, it is Brigadier General Fitzwilliam now, is it not?" responded the Duke.

    William's demeanor warmed somewhat. "Yes, although he has recently retired and gone to work at Whitehall."

    "Some would have expected you to be more intimate with Lord Ashbourn, given that you are both heirs to great estates--he is great friends with Guy Westinghouse--the new Earl of Corning, is he not?"

    Darcy's patience with the Marquess' questioning was waning. He had come expecting some inquiries with regards to his sister's dowry that, while distasteful, would have been more welcome than the current interrogation. After taking a moment to sip his wine and steady his temper, he responded in a relatively calm manner. "As I said, I am rarely in company with Ashbourn. Fitzwilliam, however, shares in the guardianship of my sister, Georgiana."

    Before his son might continue, the Duke interceded; "Of course. I believe you mentioned that Mr. Fitzwilliam is returning from Spain? Has he been there long?"

    "Nearly three months. He is assisting the British envoy while Spain negotiates with the Americans over a territorial dispute. The timing was excellent as he was recently married and his new wife was eager to see some of the continent."

    "Ah, so congratulations are in order. Do we know the lady?"

    The hint of a smile ghosted across Darcy's face. "I would be very surprised if you did; she is the widow of my aunt's clergyman, a Mr. Collins, and a childhood friend of my wife, née Charlotte Lucas."

    The other gentlemen shared a look before the Duke spoke, "Ah yes, Mrs. Darcy. I must admit that we were quite surprised upon meeting her."

    William remained determinedly silent. He would do a great deal to ensure his sister's happiness but that did not include allowing any man to disparage his wife, strawberry leaves or not.

    Fortunately, Graften appeared to sense this and elaborated; "I mean no criticism against Mrs. Darcy--indeed, she seems to be a most excellent lady."

    Less concerned with diplomacy, Lord Andrew spoke up. "We were under the impression that you were intended for Miss Anne De Bourgh."

    Darcy was not at all pleased to discover that Lady Catherine's fancy had been spread so far beyond his family party. "You were misinformed, sir. My late aunt had hopes in that direction but there was never any understanding between my cousin and I. I care for her as a close relative but the choice of a wife has always been my own."

    Annoyed with such impertinent questioning, William would have liked to depart immediately but there was no way to do so without causing offence. Even so, he stepped so that he might look out of the window for a moment before turning back and placing his glass of wine on the table. Joining his hands behind his back, he looked each gentleman in the eye.

    "Sirs, allow me to be frank. Although I hope that I will always give my relations the respect that they are due, I am my own man. My choice of a bride was perhaps not according to what Society deems as conventional, but I consider my personal happiness to be far too important to sacrifice for the cold comforts of a marriage based on wealth and connections."

    Far from being affronted, the two Somerset gentlemen appeared rather pleased.

    Before his father could speak, Worcester declared, "Mr. Darcy, I appreciate your candor. I am well known in my family for my almost total lack of tact and my father will probably ask me to apologize for my impertinence any number of times before the afternoon is over."

    "Indeed," interjected the Duke with some exasperation.

    "However," continued the younger man with a smile to his father that was only mildly repentant, "my youngest and most unworldly brother appears increasingly determined that your sister is necessary to his future happiness. Please understand, sir, that I know little about Miss Darcy and nothing that is not complimentary. Of you, however, I hear such different accounts as puzzle me exceedingly."

    Not a little affronted, Darcy wisely chose to remain silent.

    Worcester continued in a slightly milder tone. "Please understand that even the younger children of a man such as my father receive a great deal of attention from those with deceptive intentions; as the eldest I consider it my duty to look after my siblings and I fear that the experience has left me deeply cynical. Jonah has a very gentle, trusting nature and I would do anything to keep him from being hurt, even if it means offending you."

    Although still nettled over having to defend his character, Darcy recognized that the Somersets' determination to protect their son and brother was well matched to his own sentiments toward his sister. The entrance of the butler and two footmen to serve their luncheon gave him several minutes to settle his emotions. Perhaps not surprisingly, his thoughts turned to Elizabeth and by the time the servants had departed, he was more prepared to speak.

    "Gentlemen, perhaps if you were to acquaint me with those faults of which I have been accused, I might better defend myself."

    The Duke eyed the younger gentlemen with increasing respect. "To be honest, I have heard of no vices particular to you, and indeed, the Darcys have always been respectable. It is your close connections to the Fitzwilliams and de Bourghs that concern us." Graften paused a moment to study his son before adding, "You should also be aware that our family has a close relationship with the Duke of Rutford; Andrew especially looked upon the late Lady Alice as almost a younger sister."

    With this explanation, much of Darcy's ire eased for he began to comprehend their concerns quite clearly and now had only to determine how much of his own concerns to reveal. Swallowing a last bite of lamb, he set down his silver with great deliberation and touched the napkin to his mouth before settling back.

    "I have the greatest respect for the Annesleys; indeed, Mrs. Jane Annesley (Rutford's cousin) is my sister's companion. We were all deeply saddened to hear of Lady Alice's passing; please accept my condolences."

    The Somerset gentlemen exchanged glances, clearly surprised by the connection. Darcy, however, did not wait for a reply.

    "My other association with the Annesleys is somewhat irregular and unknown beyond my immediate family, so I will ask for your word as gentlemen to keep my confidence."

    Such a beginning could only excite curiosity and Darcy's audience readily agreed, where upon he told them an abbreviated version of how he and Elizabeth had rescued Lady Alice's maid from Lord Westinghouse's attack just that past spring. "I assure you, sirs, that I feel nothing but disgust for the current Earl of Corning. Tilly is now serving my own wife and I can arrange for you to interview her if you desire further confirmation."

    Lord Andrew did not delay in his response. "Indeed, that is not necessary, Mr. Darcy, I assure you. I had heard nothing of the incident but it is entirely in keeping with what I know of that man's vicious character. Although Alice would never admit it to me, I suspected that he abused her on a regular basis. My wife and I were considering how we might take her away when we received word of Alice's death." He paused before admitting in a hoarse voice, "I cannot express the guilt I feel for not acting sooner."

    "Son," responded the Duke, gripping the younger man's shoulder. "Do not berate yourself; the responsibility rests just as heavily upon my own shoulders. However, rather than wallow in our regret, we must harness these emotions to help drive through new legislation that will give women the legal right to escape such cruelty rather than live as the very property of their husbands."

    Therein followed some discussion of a bill being advanced by Graften and the probability of its passage by parliament. Although Darcy found the conversation stimulating and agreed with much of what the gentlemen espoused, he did not wish to leave the previous conversation unfinished. Waiting for an appropriate pause, he spoke with a gravity that immediately caught the attention of his hosts.

    "I can empathize very well with your personal feelings on the issue, sirs, as I recently had a lady and her young son come to my own home for sanctuary. My regret is particularly keen as I never suspected the abuse, although I have known of my cousin's immoral behavior since we were children."

    The Duke was clearly shocked by this revelation but it was Lord Andrew who responded. "You are speaking of Ashbourn? Good Lord--I had no idea! How is the woman--Lady Almida, wasn't it? And his own son?"

    Darcy nodded and soberly summarized the sad tale, leaving out only his uncle's attempt to disown his grandson in favor of his younger son and Richard's subsequent rebellion. Once the Somersets' questions had been answered and their sympathy accepted, William turned to the other concern Worcester had mentioned.

    "As you are obviously aware, my late mother's elder sister married Sir Lewis de Bourgh. Indeed, that gentleman and his two sons died in the same epidemic as my mother while the de Bourghs were visiting Pemberley." He forced away the melancholy that always threatened to overwhelm him when he thought of that time. "I was but a child and cannot remember meeting Sir Lewis more than once or twice.

    "Lady Catherine was not an easy woman to know, but I have done my best to maintain the relationship with her and her daughter out of respect for my own dear mother." He waited for the other gentlemen to voice their sympathetic understanding before continuing.

    "However, my family's connection to the de Bourghs has recently become closer, albeit in a most unexpected way. My wife's aunt by marriage is Mrs. Madeleine Gardiner, née de Bourgh. Her father was Reverend Jonathan de Bourgh, a most principled gentleman who held the rectorship of one of the Darcy family livings." In a few short but moving sentences, William summarized the tragic death of the family and Madeleine's subsequent life with her mother's relations.

    "The Churchills?" exclaimed the Duke. "Of course--that would be Sir Paul Churchill! I remember how pleased he was with Rebecca's match--this was the same young clergyman who founded St. Elmo's, was it not?"

    Darcy agreed, pleased to introduce some relations for whom there was no need to blush. "We have only recently discovered that just before his death, Sir Lewis named Jonathan de Bourgh as his heir should his own sons pass on without issue. As a result, the Gardiners' eldest son is now the heir of Rosings Park."

    "I say, that is a remarkable story," exclaimed the Marquess. "It gives me some hope that the virtuous among us may not always loose out to the immoral."

    "Take care, Andrew," counseled the Duke, "that speech savours strongly of bitterness." He turned to Darcy. "You will find that my son tends to take prodigious care of those who have earned his loyalty, whether or not they desire his interference."

    Darcy could not help but smile and admitted that he himself had been accused of just such an attitude. "Although I have attempted to avoid those intercessions which might be considered officious, I fear that it is the natural tendency of an eldest child and particularly an eldest son to be protective of those to whom he feels a responsibility."

    The Duke and his heir were unanimous in their assent. After some further discussion on the topic, William referred to the upcoming dinner party. "I shall be pleased to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner as they have recently returned from Kent; they are truly excellent people and I am proud to call them family." It was as explicit as he was willing to be in warning the Somersets that condescension toward the Gardiners would not be tolerated, tradesman or no.

    He need not have worried; the Duke sincerely believed in his party's platform and his eldest son was even more Whiggish than his sire.

    When the plates were finally cleared and the gentlemen stood to bid their farewells, Lord Andrew shook Darcy's hand with every evidence of good will. "Thank you for bearing my questions with such equanimity, sir. I look forward to knowing you better."

    Darcy found himself honestly returning the sentiments and the party broke up with great civility. When William later recounted the occasion to Elizabeth, she was clearly pleased. "I am so glad that you found Lord Andrew's company to be tolerable, for I liked his wife, Ava, a great deal and would be very happy for us all to become better acquainted."

    William only smiled and pulled her into his lap so that he might kiss her. To himself, he congratulated himself once again for marrying one of the few accomplished ladies of his acquaintance who could honestly express such a sentiment without any consideration for the rank of those whom she hoped to befriend.

    Indeed, when the day of the fateful dinner party arrived, the mistress of Derwent House was entirely calm; a sentiment that was entirely foreign to Miss Darcy and, as a consequence, that young lady's brother.

    Joining her sister in the mistress' study after luncheon, Georgiana turned her attention to the seating arrangement. "Elizabeth, are you certain it is prudent to seat Richard and Lord Jonah so close together? Perhaps we had best exchange him with the Marquess."

    Smiling, Elizabeth responded gently, "I fear that you shall have to allow Richard speak to him at some point, Georgie; he is your other guardian, after all."

    The younger lady looked as if she might argue the point when they were interrupted by a rather timid knock. "Lizzy? Are you there?" asked Miss Catherine Bennet tentatively.

    Mr. Bennet had arrived in London with his middle daughter just in time for luncheon. That gentleman was now happily ensconced in the Darcys' library and Elizabeth could easily see that her sister was growing bored. "Yes, Kitty; come in. Are you feeling rested from your travels?"

    Thankful that her sister and Miss Darcy appeared to welcome her, Catherine came further into the room. "Oh, I am perfectly well. You have a sweet room here, Lizzy, and a charming prospect from the window."

    Elizabeth smiled, for however much Catherine had improved over the last year, she could rarely hide her emotions from her elder sister. Thinking quickly, Mrs. Darcy thought of a way to kill two birds with one stone. "Georgiana, it is so lovely outside. Why don't the two of you go for a walk? There is really nothing left to do for the party--Mrs. Wilkins will only become agitated if we try. Kitty--did you not wish to purchase a new sketch book and charcoals while you were in London?"

    Miss Bennet's enthusiasm quickly won over Georgiana's misgivings and the pair was soon off to the shops, footmen in tow. Somewhat envious, Elizabeth turned back to the letter she was attempting. The Bennets had arrived with not one but two epistles from her mother and Lizzy was determined to finish her reply in time for her father to carry it with him when he and Catherine returned to Hertfordshire.

    Mrs. Bennet's letters had been increasing in both volume and frequency over the last few months, although Elizabeth could not speak to the value of their content. Indeed, that woman's obsession with finding good matches for her daughters appeared to have abated only to be replaced by a passionate desire to see them reproduce.

    If Lizzy had once cringed at her mother's advice with regard to catching a husband, she now discovered that there was indeed another subject on which Fanny Bennet could spout an infinite variety of "wisdom." In Elizabeth's mind, the only ameliorating factor of the situation was that, given the distance between Longbourn and Derwent House, it was unlikely Darcy would be present to hear his wife subjected to an embarrassing lecture.

    After some minutes, Elizabeth reminded herself that it was not worth dwelling upon her mother's idiosyncrasies. After sharpening her pen, she proceeded to fill a page with such chatty nothings as she knew Mrs. Bennet might enjoy.

    By the time Mrs. Darcy had sanded and addressed that letter and added to the pile another for Lydia, she deemed herself more than deserving of a respite. Not surprisingly, she found her husband and father comfortably settled in the library and happily joined them until it was time to dress for dinner.

    As the family gathered in the drawing room to await their guests, Elizabeth was pleased to see that Georgiana's time with Kitty appeared to have settled her nerves somewhat. The arrival of the Fitzwilliams and Gardiners almost simultaneously added to the conviviality of the group. Charlotte had such a contented glow about her that made all her old friends from Hertfordshire very glad, and Richard's obvious pleasure in his wife made his somewhat homely face nearly handsome. The couple was immediately peppered with questions about their recent travels and had such amazing stories to tell that it came as something of a surprise when the butler announced the Somersets.

    Elizabeth and Darcy moved immediately to greet the Duke and his family and then turned to begin introducing the other guests. Before they could commence, however, something astonishing occurred. Mr. Bennet had been standing by the fire in conversation with the Gardiners. Although Elizabeth stood on the other side of the room, she recognized the mischievous twinkle in her father's eye as he turned to the new arrivals. She was not, however, prepared for what happened next.

    "Tommy Bennet, as I live and breath!"

    As the rest of the room froze in stunned silence at the Duke's outburst, Mr. Bennet chuckled. "Hullo Harry." The two men met in the center of the room and the Duke brushed aside his old friend's outstretched hand to embrace him, thumping his back enthusiastically. When they stepped back, each with suspiciously glassy eyes, Elizabeth's curiosity overcame her surprise.

    "Papa, you never told me that you were acquainted with His Grace," she accused with an amused smile.

    "Ah, well, my dear. I cannot say that I know the Duke of Graften. Harry Somerset, on the other hand-- I could tell more than a few tales about him." Seeing his daughter's beseeching look, he became a bit more serious. "We roomed together for a time at school, my dear, but lost touch soon after university. Life intruded, I'm afraid."

    "And by life, Mrs. Darcy, Tommy means that he preferred to live in his philosophy books and was afraid I would drag him into the Battle of Graften," smirked the Duke.

    At this point, most of the company was arranged in a loose circle around the two older gentlemen and Mrs. Darcy. This last comment caught the attention of the Duke's eldest son, recognizing his father's euphemism for the last, messy succession of the title. "Whatever do you mean, Father?"

    The Duke rolled his eyes in a gesture that several in the room found startlingly reminiscent of Mr. Bennet's sardonic mannerisms. "So quickly do the children forget their history, eh, Tommy?" Turning to his son, the Duke prompted. "Andrew, who was the first Duke of Graften?"

    Still confused, but well versed on his family history, the Marquess replied "Henry…. Bennet." At which point his round eyes turned to his father's old friend even as that gentleman was shaking his head and making shushing motions with his hands.

    "A distant relation, if at all." Seeing the Duke opening his mouth to argue, Mr. Bennet continued. "Now, now Harry. Surely we have more interesting history to catch up on than that of some king's bastard three hundred years dead? Let us start with some introductions. That, I suppose, is your son?" He waggled his eyebrows in such a way that Graften could not help but laugh.

    "Indeed. My eldest, Lord Andrew Somerset, Marquess of Worcester and my heir. Let me see. His wife, Lady Ava. My daughter, Isabella, and her husband, Sir Robert Tripp. My second daughter, Violet, and her husband, Mr. Wendell Hubbard. My youngest son, Lord Jonah. And this is my wife, Lady Alice.

    "Alice, my dear, allow me to present my oldest friend, Mr. Thomas Bennet. Please do not believe a word he says about me." The Duke grinned crookedly to his wife as she greeted Mr. Bennet.

    Holding out her hand, Lady Alice smiled. "So you are Tommy! I cannot tell you how many stories I have heard my husband tell that begin with 'I remember that time when Tommy and I…' It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

    "The honor is mine to meet such a lovely lady. Particularly one with the bravery to marry my old friend here. At times in our youth I honestly believed that the only bride Harry would ever abide would have four legs and a tail!"

    As the laughter died down, Mr. Bennet gestured to Lizzy. "Well, well… allow me to introduce my own progeny. My daughter Elizabeth, now Mrs. Darcy, and her husband I believe you have already met. This is my second youngest, Catherine." And my wife's brother, Mr. Edward Gardiner, and his wife, Madeleine. But I suppose you know them, as well?"

    "All I know about this family is from the Darcys-- I might know more of them if you had ever bothered to respond to my letters, you old goat!" responded Graften with feigned churlishness and the two chuckled like the old companions they were.

    Elizabeth watched as her father bantered with his friend and felt herself close to tears. For the first time that she could remember, she could see that he was honestly proud of his family. She took her husband's arm and smiled softly.

    Darcy was still attempting to recover from the shock. When the Duke of Graften had greeted William's father-in-law, only years of training had kept him upright. From his earliest memories, he could remember hearing his Fitzwilliam elders plotting over how to gain a connection to the august Somerset family. And here, he had seemingly secured one of the closest degree through his marriage to a woman his Aunt Catherine had once dismissed in the most vile of terms. He could barely repress his chuckle.

    Elizabeth eyed her husband's mirth suspiciously. "Will?"

    His eyes twinkled mischievously but he only squeezed her hand. "Just enjoying the moment, my dear. I only wish Lady Catherine was here to see it." He smirked as she rolled her eyes.

    By now, Mr. Bennet had guided the Duke and his wife around the room in order to introduce Richard and Charlotte. Seeing his old friend stiffen at the name Fitzwilliam, Lizzy's father tutted him. "Now, now, Harry. None of those silly old familial prejudices.

    "Their son is the heir of Longbourn." Catching his old friend's questioning look, Bennet waved his had dismissively. "Five daughters, no son, and an entailed estate. A long story that has turned out much better than I had any reason to expect-- I shall tell it to you another time. For now, I believe you will be far more interested in hearing their more recent history.

    "Fitzwilliam here was in the Horse Guards and I daresay even you will appreciate his eye for horseflesh. He and Mrs. Fitzwilliam have just returned from the negotiations in Spain and he was just telling me of his visit to the Spanish Riding School in Vienna."

    This caught the Duke and his eldest son's full attention. "The Lipizzaner? I have never had the pleasure of seeing one but the accounts I have heard all say that they are magnificent!"

    Thus started a conversation that continued into the dining room. By the end of the evening, the two horse-mad Somerset men had arranged to meet Mr. Fitzwilliam at the docks the following week to meet the ship carrying his new acquisitions.

    When the conversation turned to where Richard was planning to keep his new acquisitions, Charlotte took the opportunity to tease her husband again that he planned to convert her newly decorated parlor into stalls. This stimulated some lively banter between the sexes.

    Such a convivial atmosphere prompted Mr. Bennet to make an offer that surprised even him self. "Fitzwilliam, as you know, less than half the stalls in Longbourn's stables are currently in use. If you like, you are welcome to house your new horses there for as long as you please." Turning to his younger daughter, he teased, "It will give us quite the cachet, to have such fine horseflesh occupying Longbourn's barn, will it not, Kitty?"

    Miss Bennet had been intimidated to near silence for much of the evening but did manage a shy acquiescence.

    Charlotte and Richard were warmed by the older gentleman's offer, understanding (perhaps even better than he) how much it reflected his acceptance that they would serve as Longbourn's next master and mistress while Mr. Collin's son grew to adulthood.

    Fitzwilliam was determined not to press such generosity too far, however, and insisted that he would cover all of the expenses, in addition to providing a man to see to the horses' care and training.

    "Lieutenant Wright served with me and has a near magical touch with horses. We met again this past month in Spain as he was being invalided out and I was pleased to employ him to oversee my horses' transport to England. He is one of the best men I have ever known, but he had a hard time of it toward the end of the war." Richard exchanged a serious look with his wife before turning back to Mr. Bennet. "If you are willing, some quiet time in the country might be just the thing to revive his spirits."

    Mr. Bennet agreed before going on to joke that, between Mr. Wright in the stables and the steward that his son-in-laws had insisted upon hiring, Longbourn would quite manage itself without any effort on his part. Meanwhile, not a few of the company looked upon Mr. Fitzwilliam with approval for his obvious determination to aid one of his former regiment even after he had resigned his command.

    The evening continued in just such a congenial manner. Georgiana's worries were assuaged for, although Richard did make a genuine attempt to speak with Lord Jonah, the former cavalryman was continually distracted by the other gentlemen's discussion about horses and the interrogation she had feared never had a chance to occur.

    Upon discovering the Bennets' purpose for being in London, the ladies quickly decided that they would accompany Catherine to the art exhibition the next day, allowing the Mr. Bennet to spend some time reminiscing with his old friend.

    When it finally came time for the guests to depart, the Duke shook his host's hand heartily. "A most excellent evening, Mr. Darcy!"

    His eldest son was equally fervent in his pleasure. "I am glad to have met you and your family, Mr. Darcy," said the Marquess. "Please forgive me that I ever thought to hold your mother's connection with the dastardly de Bourghs against you." Lord Andrew exchanged a merry look with Mrs. Gardiner with whom he had been partnered at dinner. Having discovered what a delightful lady she was, Worcester was determined to redress all former slights.

    "Really, Harry," scolded the Duchess good-naturedly. "Dastardly de Bourghs, indeed. Do not run wild like you normally do in front of our new acquaintances; we are trying to leave a good impression."

    On that happy note, the party departed with no little laughter.

    Some time later, when the Darcys had retired to their rooms, William settled tiredly on the bed and watched as his wife braided her long hair for the night. Thinking over the evening, his smile gave rise to a chuckle. By the time Lizzy snuggled in beside him, he gave up and erupted into a full belly laugh.

    Once his mirth had subsided slightly, Will leaned back into the pillows and pulled his wife across his chest. He sighed deeply. "Oh Lizzy, I can't even begin to tell you… You know how long it took me to see your family's open manners and warmth for the treasure it is. When I think of the cold, lonely existence that Georgie and I were drifted through… Well, you know Lady Catherine's response to our marriage. And even though my Uncle Henry has recognized you and such, I still feel the condescension… he is proud of his open-mindedness in admitting someone of your connections into their Society. And now…"

    Here William had to pause to wipe tears from his eyes, he was laughing so hard. "And now, he will be faced with the fact that you are the favorite daughter of the Duke of Graften's oldest, dearest friend… and possibly even a distant relation! Oh Lord-- 'tis too much!"

    Chapter 60. New Traditions.

    Posted on 2013-03-24

    October 1819

    The morning after dining with the Sumersets, Mrs. Darcy moved purposefully to the library, conscious that her sisters were waiting.

    "Ah, here are my gentlemen, just where I knew I would find you…" The amused look Elizabeth wore suddenly crumpled into disgust. "Papa, what on Earth are you smoking?!?"

    Mr. Bennet removed his pipe and made a great show of examining the bowl. "It would appear to be tobacco, my dear, although I suppose it is possible that the shopkeeper slipped some other herb into the mix."

    Lizzy wrinkled her nose and then covered it with her hand. "Well, it smells like an old chamber pot. Please do put it out, Papa." She moved quickly to crack open a window in the hope that it might dispell the odour.

    Mr. Bennet's eyes twinkled but he tapped out his pipe obediently. Before he might tease her, however, a footman appeared at the door. "Mrs. Darcy? The carriage is at the door, when you are ready, Ma'am."

    "Thank you, John. We shall be there just now." It had been decided that Elizabeth would accompany Catherine and Georgiana to the exhibition so that her sisters might have time to sit and sketch at the masters' feet. Despite his good intentions in bringing Kitty to Town, neither of his daughters could imagine their father's patience lasting more than an hour, no matter how fine the artwork on display, and Mr. Bennet saw no reason to exert himself when the situation was settled so easily to his own comfort.

    Darcy had put aside the broadsheet he had been reading when he rose to his feet; "Did you hear back from the Somersets?"

    "Yes, indeed," she replied. "We shall meet Ava and Violet at the museum… and you and Papa may expect the Duke and Lord Jonah to call at some point this morning."

    Elizabeth gave her husband a pointed look as she had already guessed at the younger gentleman's purpose. William's grimace indicated his comprehension, if not acceptance. Seeing that he meant to escort her to the coach, Lizzy turned back to her father.

    "Farewell, Papa!" She stepped closer as if to kiss Mr. Bennet's forehead goodbye but was too overcome by the stench. "And no more of that filth you call tobacco. If you must have it then go into the garden--the fresh air would do you good, anyway!"

    The reprimand appeared to have absolutely no effect for soon after the departure of his daughter and son-in-law, Mr. Bennet was observed by a footman to have returned to his previous occupation, puffing away without a care for the Mistresses' sensibilities. He did not, however, return to his book, preferring now to stare into the fire and chuckle to himself.

    The servants had decided amongst themselves that Mr. Bennet, while congenial, was an eccentric gentleman and therefore felt no compunction to report this most recent example of odd behavior to their master.

    As a result, Mr. Darcy was quite unprepared to be the focal point of his father-in-law's amusement when he returned to the library some time later. "Mr. Bennet?"

    Longbourn's master addressed his son-in-law with a twinkle in his eye. "Do you have anything you wish to tell me, young man?"

    When Darcy continued to look at him blankly, the older gentleman chuckled and continued, "I fear that you are in for it, lad. Elizabeth's mother would get like this, as well."

    As he was indeed concerned about his wife's recent behavior, Darcy was not quite as diplomatic as usual. "Elizabeth is not of a nervous disposition, sir. I fear she is suffering some sort of illness-- she has lost weight, as well. I suggested that we call my physician, but she will not hear of it. If it continues many days longer, however, I shall have to insist."

    Mr. Bennet's amusement prompted a reproachful glance from his host. "Calling in a doctor would not be amiss, although Lizzy has always been a healthy girl." Finally recalling that Mr. Darcy had lost his mother at a young age and had only a much younger sister to acquaint him with feminine concerns, Thomas became more serious. "Perhaps I should mention that Mrs. Bennet acted this way on occasion… on five occasions, to be precise."

    William continued to look lost, which Mr. Bennet took as reasonable excuse to continue. "Could not abide the smell of tobacco, mutton, or fish of any type. I even had to change my soap as Fanny claimed it was so sweet-smelling as to curdle her stomach from across the room."

    After several moments of contemplation, Darcy finally began to catch on. "You mean when… she was… was with child?" His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper and his expression appeared more like terror than pleasure.

    "Indeed," responded Mr. Bennet. Seeing Darcy's countenance, he took pity on the younger man and expanded, "For three or four months early in her confinement, she would be very sensitive to smells and tastes. I understand that most women struggle with nausea, particularly in the morning. As far as I know Fanny rarely purged her stomach, if ever; she was merely more… energetic… and there were any number of smells and tastes that she found highly offensive. Most of which had never bothered her before… nor since, come to think of it."

    While the older gentleman amused himself with his recollections, Darcy attempted to block out the vision of a more energetic Mrs. Bennet. He remained absolutely still and silent for some minutes. Those who did not know William well might have thought him to be remarkably calm. However, stillness is not indicative of relaxation, and silence may belie tumultuous thoughts.

    His mind full of midwives and nursery refurbishments, accoucheurs and travel plans, Mr. Darcy barely remembered to thank his father-in-law before fleeing the library, already making lists in his mind.

    Alone, Mr. Bennet chuckled before re-filling his pipe and reaching for a particular volume he had had his eye on. Rather than begin reading, however, he amused himself by speculating upon Mr. Darcy's reaction should Lizzy begin acting like her mother.

    To Bennet's surprise, these imaginings brought him little pleasure. His impatience with Fanny's tribulations had found their outlet in sarcasm but Thomas found that he could not like the idea of Elizabeth being derided in a similar fashion. She was his favorite child and he could not abide the thought of her being treated with such disrespect… and, he had to admit, because he had come to esteem his son-in-law and such behavior would greatly lessen his respect for Mr. Darcy.

    Thomas Bennet was not a stupid man and the irony of his feelings did not escape him. His amusement drained away and left him in a grave contemplation of his wife and their marriage that would occupy to him for some time.

    Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy's mood was far from contemplative. He had departed the library with no clear intentions except that something must be done, and rapidly. Had Elizabeth been at home, he would have immediately whisked her away to their rooms to be scrutinized and cosseted. Instead, he was faced with the Duke of Graften and His Grace's youngest son being admitted to the front foyer.

    In later years, Mr. Darcy would endure a great deal of ribbing that he approved Lord Jonah's request to court Miss Darcy with so little interrogation… indeed, far less than any of his daughters' suitors would claim to have suffered.

    For better or worse, Richard Fitzwilliam appeared at the door to Derwent House not long after the Somersets' arrival and, upon admission to the library, did his best to terrorize his young cousin's suitor, much to the amusement of Mr. Bennet and the Duke. Darcy felt it his duty (if perhaps not his preference) to lead his guests in a toast to the young couple. Some combination of the unaccustomed liquor so early in the day, the unprecidented situations he was faced with, and the companionship of several older gentlemen more experienced in the ways of the world led William to be much more open in his concerns than usual.

    As a result, Mrs. Darcy returned home with her sisters and new friends some few hours later to discover that, not only was there a physician whom she had never seen before in her life waiting to examine her, but her entire household appeared to have been alerted to her possible condition before even she herself was aware of it.

    Not a little flustered, Elizabeth insisted that the doctor's examination could wait until after the late luncheon she had planned for the Darcys' guests. This was perhaps not the wisest decision, for the gentlemen were nearly in their cups by that point and it was not long before the entire company was made aware of Mr. Bennet's speculations. Georgiana and Lord Jonah were happy to cede the limelight and received something of an education on those symptoms that husbands noticed their wives display during confinement.

    As a result, the physician's confirmation of her condition meant less to Elizabeth than her husband's preparations for them to leave within the week for Derbyshire where she hoped that she herself might control the flow of information, at least for a little while.

    Georgiana's disinclination to leave London (and her new beau) almost caused an argument between the Darcy siblings until Elizabeth suggested Miss Darcy might remain at Derwent House chaperoned by the Fitzwilliams. Charlotte and Richard were happy to accept the invitation as the town house he had recently purchased had been long unoccupied and required extensive renovations before it was even marginally habitable.

    Darcy suffered some guilt over leaving his sister alone at such a time in her life, but it was agreed that the Fitzwilliams would bring their charge north in time for the hunt ball in a month.

    Mrs. Reynolds began receiving daily expresses that provided her with no little private amusement. Mr. Darcy had detailed instructions with regard to the nursery, even as Mrs. Darcy's correspondence focused on the ball, guest rooms, and prospects for the hunt. When the family finally arrived at Pemberley (the journey having been extended an extra day to assuage Mr. Darcy's caution), the housekeeper was treated to the amusing sight of her master hovering and her mistress rolling her eyes with good-natured exasperation.

    That very evening, Elizabeth's maid made her her way to the housekeeper's parlor to share a pot of tea. Though of different generations, both were privy to many of the family's secrets but were too loyal to the Darcys to gossip with the rest of the staff. Tilly took one careful sip of tea before she caught Mrs. Reynolds eye, whereupon both slid into such laughter as left them gasping from pain in their sides. Had they not been assured that the closed door ensured their privacy, it might have led some of the lower servants to worry that they were fit for Bedlam.

    To the joy of all, the nursery was easily aired, painted, and furnished with an array of artifacts including a cradle said to have been carved by Gowan Darcy himself. Prepartions for the hunt and its accompanying ball caused a bit more disquiet among the servants, as only the eldest among them could recall Pemberley last playing host to such an event. However, their innate pride in the family produced such a desire to see the estate presented to best effect that even the most persnickity guest could not help but be impressed.

    While Elizabeth considered menus and seating charts and Darcy read every book he could find on the nascent field of obstetrics and child rearing, Richard Fitzwilliam met the ship carrying his Spanish horses at the dock, accompanied by the Marquess of Worcester with whom he was developing a firm friendship.

    Upon seeing the man who had accompanied his new stock during their travel, Richard exclaimed; "Ah, Lieutenant Wright! Excellent--how are you? How was the passage?"

    The younger man was obviously tired but he shook his former commander's hand vigorously. "Fairly well, sir. It got a little rough yesterday, but the stock seem to have come through it well enough. The mares could use a day or two rest before heading on, but those two yearlings you liked so much are climbing the walls."

    Fitzwilliam grinned with pleasure. "Capital, capital! We'll take them round to the stables at Derwent House for a day, and then a nice easy trip into Hertfordshire."

    "Hertfordshire, sir?"

    "Mmmm… yes. Remember I told you that Mrs. Fitzwilliam's son is heir to an estate? Well, its current master has invited us to use the stables there."

    Wright looked thoughtful. "That's very good, sir."

    Richard smiled with understanding. "Mr. Bennet also has an empty cottage. Are you still willing to stay on and look after the lot? Begin their training and so forth? The stables shall need some work, as well--there are twenty stalls and some excellent pastureland, but Bennet has not used more than a quarter of them in decades."

    Wright recalled hearing Charlotte Fitzwilliam speak about the quiet village in which she had grown up and nodded his agreement. He was a soft-spoken, gentle young man whose boyhood on a small estate near Chelmsford in Essex had done little to prepare him for the horrors of war. Then-Colonel Fitzwilliam had recognized the young man's soft touch with the horses and kept an eye on him. Even so, after five years immersed in the evils of man on his fellow man and perhaps worse, on innocent beasts, it had been a private relief when the doctors declared his injury too severe for him to remain in active service.

    At present, Aaron Wright's only desire was for some time to heal and pray that the nightmares would fade. Fitzwilliam's proposition could not have come at a more propitious time.

    In the end, the establishment of the Fitzwilliam horses at Longbourn was accomplished with remarkable ease. Mr. Bennet could find little to mock in such a quiet young man and, once Mrs. Bennet was informed that Mr. Wright had retired his red coat and had no prospect of any inheritance, she lost all interest in the man and refocused on the perceived invasion of her domain by the Fitzwilliams. Although three of her daughters were well-married (two especially so) and the entail no longer represented a threat to her lifestyle, Mrs. Bennet could not look upon Charlotte's healthy baby boy as anything less than a personal insult. Even Lady Lucas' usually indefatigable sympathy for her neighbor's nervous complaints was wearing thin.

    As a result, the Fitzwilliams departed Meryton with some relief. Mr. Bennet found himself regretting this turn of events as he had come to enjoy having Richard's jovial wit and Charlotte's sensible mien at Longbourn. After spending an afternoon in his book room contemplating the matter, he rose the next morning with new determination and Kitty was treated to the extraordinary sight of her parents strolling through the garden, arm-in-arm.

    Some weeks later, Elizabeth was amused enough at her sister's astonished recitation of this event that she read part of the letter aloud to her husband one morning. Although Darcy shared his wife's pleasure in seeing her father make such an effort, his own recent contemplations on fatherhood made him less sympathetic than usual. Deciding that his own matrimonial harmony would be better served by silence on this particular subject, William turned the subject to their upcoming house party. "Have you heard from the Fitzwilliams?"

    Lizzy smiled with genuine pleasure. "Indeed--they expect to arrive tomorrow afternoon with Georgiana. Charlotte says that your sister is not so happy to be leaving London."

    William made a noise sounding suspiciously like a snort. "With the Somersets arriving next week, I predict that she shall not pine for long."

    Elizabeth's eyes twinkled. "Yes, but for all of Pemberley's charms as a superior setting for a courtship, I believe that she worries about introducing Lord Jonah and the Somersets to her uncle."

    This time William did snort. "I cannot say that I blame her; I can only hope that between Aunt Eleanor, Richard, and ourselves we can keep him from… er…"

    Unable to find polite words that expressed his concern over the Earl's truckling behavor toward the Duke of Graften, Darcy trailed off. Understanding him completely, Elizabeth crossed the room so that she might lean down behind him and press her cheek to his. "I am sure that all will be well--His Grace has met Uncle Henry on any number of occasions and besides, any friend of my father's must be accustomed to dealing with eccentric characters."

    William grimaced, uncomfortable that he must worry over members of his own family exhibiting poor breeding. "In the House of Lords and over matters of parliament, yes, but we both know His Grace has avoided socializing with the Fitzwilliams until now."

    "And you are well aware that Graften and his Duchess are far more concerned with their son's happiness than avoiding the Earl of Matlock."

    "Or his son," added Darcy grimly. "I received a letter from Scotland this morning; Edward's health has worsened so much that they do not expect him to survive the winter."

    Elizabeth tightened her arms around his shoulders. "I am sorry." When he began to protest, she shushed him. "Whatever your cousin's faults, he is still blood and you shall mourn his passing, if for nothing else than the man he might have been."

    William sighed and shut his eyes, unconsciously leaning back so that his head rested against her. "I have been pondering what our child might be like… what I should do if he turns out like Edward or George Wickham…"

    "Or if she were to turn out like Lydia or Caroline Bingley" added Elizabeth.

    The pair exchanged a look of mutual understanding and Lizzy moved around to sit in her husband's lap, head tucked under his chin. "I suppose that all parents must feel so, but no matter how many times my Aunt Gardiner reassures me, I cannot help but worry."

    "You can have no such concerns; you shall be an excellent mother," said Darcy with complete assurance. "I have no such confidence in myself, however."

    "In your ability to be an excellent mother?" Elizabeth teased. Pleased to see a smile soften his face, she continued. "You are the best man I have ever known, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and I am absolutely certain that you shall be an outstanding father. Had I any doubts, I would never have married you," she ended with a smirk.

    Seeing that he was preparing to argue, she added, "You would not question my ability to sketch your character, would you, husband?"

    William could not help but chuckle at how well she had hemmed him in and conceded defeat. After several minutes contemplation, he said, "I have always believed that George Wickham's story might not have turned out so poorly if my father and his had not been so lenient. And yet, I cannot think that my cousin Edward was treated much differently than myself."

    "Oh William," sighed Lizzy. "Certainly a child raised without proper instruction on proper behavior, spoiled as to their every whim, is likely to run wild." Seeing her husband grimace slightly, she considered her words again. "Silly man, I was thinking of Lydia! You were given good principles and merely ran astray for a time in their application. My sister has been spoiled since birth and I can only pray that our recent attentions to her poor behavior shall prove her character is not permanently warped." She sighed.

    "I fear that I shall love our child so much that I will not be able to see their faults," confided William softly.

    Elizabeth turned so that she might kiss his cheek. "Dearest, there is a vast difference between spoiling a child and loving them. You have already proven that you are perfectly capable of balancing the two with Georgiana. You cannot argue that you have had a major contribution to her education since her birth, even before the death of her father, and has she not turned out well?" She sighed. "Certainly I cannot claim such an accomplishment with my own younger sisters."

    This prompted William to disagree and so, rather than bicker over their respective families' behavior, the pair agreed to turn their attention back to the preparations for the house party.

    Not long after the Fitzwilliams arrived with Georgiana, the day arrived when carriages from near and far began rolling through Pemberley's woods to deposit happy guests upon its steps. Many had not visited that place since Lady Anne had been mistress and were full of compliments for the new Mrs. Darcy. Elizabeth gracefully deferred to her husband's fine taste, saying that she had found little that needed changing.

    Though the Darcys had arranged their invitations with the idea of assembling a pleasant company, there were still a those among the guests who looked for opportunities to criticize. Even they, however, were forced to recognize that the household ran like a well-oiled clock and the former Miss Elizabeth Bennet managed it with an effortless style that could not but be admired. Guests were shown to their rooms to find their luggage already delivered and unpacked and hot water appeared with near miraculous efficiency to wash away the road dust. Even the most disapointed Derbyshire matrons were forced to admit that neither Pemberley nor Mr. Darcy appeared to be suffering.

    Later, Fitzwilliam Darcy watched his guests move along the dining table looking for their place cards with unexpected contentment. The double doors normally kept closed to make the formal dining room into a more comfortable space for smaller groups had been thrown open such that the table now extended down the entire gallery. The light glittered and gleamed from the polished silver and ladies' jewels, their perfumes like small eddies to the citrus-scented candles Elizabeth had ordered placed around the room. For once, he felt no qualms over being the center of attention and when he raised his glass in a toast there was a nostalgic cast to his countenance.

    "Honoured guests, friends and family; it gives me great pleasure to welcome you into our home. I have been attempting to recall when Pemberley last hosted such a happy gathering and my best recollection is a time when Richard and I evaded my governess and snuck down the back stairs so that we might peek in." Darcy paused for the chuckles to subside before continueing; "I know that my parents would be glad to see so many of those same faces here tonight, as well as so many new. Of course, it is likely that none of you would be here if it were not for my dear wife who suggested such an event and weathered all of my unsocial protests." After some further laughter, he raised his glass and all the company could see the devotion with which he looked toward his wife. "To Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy."

    Elizabeth could not help but blush as the compliment was repeated up and down the long table, but it was the warm look she shared with her husband that made her heart beat quicker.

    The dinner was a great success and it gave Darcy no small pleasure to watch his wife at the far end of the table, mediating between the Duke of Somerset at her right and the Earl of Matlock at her left. Both gentlemen appeared well-entertained and if William saw her occasionally share an amused look with His Grace (much as she often did with her father), he could not blame her. At his own end of the table, it was rapidly clear that those gentlemen's wives were well known to each other through shared charity work and their conversation flowed smoothly.

    Darcy took the opportunity to observe his sister's transparent happiness as she interacted with her equally besotted suiter, although Richard and Charlotte made sure that the couple did not completely neglect their company. Though Georgiana's happy situation was everything he could have wished for her, he could not suppress a small pain in his heart at the knowledge that she would soon be leaving his care. A loving look shared with Elizabeth brought him back to the present, however, and though it did not go unnoticed by the two kind women at his elbows they did not allow their amusement to show, instead taking care to include him in the conversation for the remainder of the evening.

    The evening came to a close not long after the company removed to the drawing room, for the guests were eager to recover from their travels so that they would be well-rested in preparation for the morrow's activities. After some last conference with Mrs. Reynolds, the Darcys were pleased to follow.

    Once William had prepared himself for bed, he dismissed his valet and went to find his wife. After congratulating her again on an excellent evening, their conversation turned to the guests.

    "If you could be kind to Lady Forsythe, especially--her background has left her unprepared…"

    Darcy stopped speaking so abruptly that Lizzy turned from her dressing table to look at him questioningly. "William, what is it? You look as if you have swallowed a bee."

    The gentleman rubbed his eyes as if that might gain him some form of mental clarity. It was a moment before he answered and then it was in a slower tone than he was want to use. "I was about to say something that would give you justifiable reason to despise me."

    Recognizing her husband's tendency to sink into a mire of self-reproach, Lizzy held out a hand and drew him to the sofa that was set before the fire where she arranged herself on his lap. "My love, while we both know that my temper will never be termed serene, I would like to believe that some poorly thought out comment about one of our guests would incite my hatred."

    William kissed her hair and felt some of his anxiety drain away, although a rumble of disquiet remained to trouble his conscience. "Forgive me, I am only just now realizing how badly we've treated that poor woman."

    He appeared ready to descend into his discontented thoughts again before Elizabeth prompted him, "Which lady is this? And how has she been mistreated?"

    William took some minutes to arrange his thoughts before responding. "Lady Forsythe… Miss Jane Pritchard as was. The Fitzpatricks have, as a rule, spent more than they saved and, though the estate is a fine one, the last Earl of Forsythe found himself in particularly dire straits. Miss Pritchard is the only child of a very successful brewer who made his home in the same village. From what I have heard, she played with the Earl's only daughter when they were children and shared lessons."

    "That would be Lady Caroline?" Elizabeth querried, thinking back over what she had learned on their guests' backgrounds.

    "Indeed," responded Darcy and then added in a slightly lighter tone, "Promise me that we will never consider that as a name for any daughter of ours… it appears too often attached to those whose characters I cannot abide."

    Lizzy giggled and then proceeded to amuse her husband for some minutes, imagining Miss Bingley's reaction should that lady come to believe that Mr. Darcy had named his child after her. Eventually her wit subsided and she requested that he return to the Forsythes' story.

    "Though we travel in the same circle, our families have never been very close. I had not been in Lady Caroline's company for some years before I attended her coming out ball. I remember wondering if the sole purpose of ladies' seminaries was to take otherwise pleasant girls and mold them into the sort of hard-eyed, simpering young ladies that populate Society." He sighed, his mind drifting to his own possible offspring once again before a poke in the stomach from his wife brought his attention back to the present.

    "The old Earl arranged for Lady Caroline's marriage to a wealthy widower whose primary interest was in having a young, well-connected wife who might still give him an heir. Able to scrimp on his daughter's dowry, Forsythe sent his younger son off to the Navy at little expense to himself and then began to search in earnest for wife for his heir, his primary object being the infusion of funds such a marriage would bring.

    "Miss Pritchard had attended the same finishing school as Lady Caroline, though I've heard the latter lady moved quickly to distance herself from her childhood friend." He grimaced before admitting, "I am ashamed to admit that I listened to her tale with sympathy at the time, having only recently separated myself from George Wickham and assuming that Miss Pritchard's avarice might have been awakened in a similar manner, though I had never met the lady."

    Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow in question. "From our brief meeting today, I found Lady Forsythe to be perfectly pleasant, if rather timid."

    Darcy agreed ruefully. "Indeed. The truth is that the Forsythes gladly took her 50,000 pounds into the family's coffers but I fear they have never let her forget her origins. I fear that… in hindsight, I… I have been just as guilty as the rest in treating her as if… as if she were less than us..."

    Elizabeth studied her husband for a moment but decided that he needed no help from her in identifying his mistaken attitudes. "I thought that your families weren't very close?"

    He shrugged slightly. "I would not say that I know them well, but we usually see each other several times a year in the country, in addition to the London Season."

    "And?" she prompted, feeling him hesitate.

    "And… Lord Forsythe, having heard such positive reports of you, inquired if you might spend some time with his wife."

    "Which I would be happy to do," she interposed. "I am always happy to make a new friend."

    "Yes…" Darcy hesitated a moment but decided that full disclosure was necessary. "It was not so much that he thought you might befriend her; more that she might benefit from your guidance."

    When Elizabeth remained silent, he rubbed his chin before continueing. "The arrogance is preposterous, I know. I cannot believe I never recognized it before… It could even be said that I sanctioned it… endorsed it! I have always considered myself to be a liberal man and after you… we… After Hunsford, I had thought that I comprehended how far I had strayed from those principles with which I was raised but once again I find myself staggered!"

    Sensing his increasing disturbance, Elizabeth took one of his hands and squeezed. "You are not that man anymore, my love. Or rather, you are still the same man with those same good principles, just with a bit of the tarnish scraped off."

    The pair smiled at each other and William took the opportunity to steal a kiss. "Tarnish that you scraped off, my dear."

    "With my sharp tongue and intemperate words, I fear."

    Another kiss and he reassured her, once again, that everything she had said had been deserved. After some further intimacies, it was agreed that they would remember the past only as it brought them pleasure and Elizabeth returned her attention to the Fitzpatricks. "I shall be very pleased to befriend Lady Forsythe, although the outcome may not be quite what the Earl is expecting."

    Having made their plans, the Darcys soon removed to their bed and blew out the candles, finding that Pemberley's thick stone walls made it quite easy to forget even a whole houseful of guests.

    Continued In Next Section

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