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Part Eleven

Posted on Sunday, 16 July 2006

“How did you sleep?” Darcy quietly asked his wife as they made their way downstairs for breakfast.

“As well as can be expected,” was her reply in a voice which gave nothing away.

Darcy nodded. There had been no further discussion between them the previous evening. Once Fitzwilliam had departed, Darcy had returned upstairs to find a tray waiting for him in his room; the dinner they had missed. He knew it meant that Sophia did not want to see him again that night.

Acknowledging that she needed the time to digest all that he had said, to decide if his word was to be trusted, Darcy was nevertheless intent on pursuing the matter following breakfast. Too much time spent dwelling on painful thoughts and hurt feelings was fruitless and he wanted to regain the ground he had lost now that his own feelings were known to him.

I was deluding myself for so long. His gaze never left Sophia’s face as they sat silently at the table. He felt he was seeing her for the first time, through a lover’s eyes, and he drank in the vision in all her minute details.

He declined a final cup of coffee when he saw she was done. “Sophia?” The one word finally brought her eyes up to meet his for the first time that morning. Darcy rose and walked over to stand beside her chair, extending a hand to her. “Please join me,” he said very softly.

Sophia dipped her head in assent, taking his hand and allowing him to lead the way. Darcy paused in the hallway, dismissing various rooms as unsuitable before deciding on the sitting room they most frequently used. He did not release his wife’s hand until she was seated, then pulled his own chair closer to make a more intimate setting.

For a moment he simply looked upon her, feeling anew the novelty of knowing this woman held his heart. Then he began. “Do you have any questions?”

She blinked. “Have you more to tell me?”

“Yes,” he said. There was much more to say. “I wanted to make sure there was no misunderstanding before I go on.”

Misunderstanding? Don’t you mean disbelief? “Perhaps,” she said carefully, “you might clear up a little discrepancy between your claim to love me while your attention was so captivated by our governess’s presence?”

It was then that Darcy realised the full extent of his position. There had rarely been anyone who would challenge his opinions and beliefs, dare to accuse him of being wrong, but for Sophia to imply that he had lied to her had shaken him. “My word means nothing to you,” he said with obvious regret. “I can offer only honesty now, fearing it may be too late. I deceived myself more than anyone else, however. I believed I had everything I needed. I was wrong and never knew it until last night.”

Sophia swallowed her fear to ask, “What do you mean?”

He had spent most of the night preparing himself for this; sleep had been a luxury he could not afford. “Let me start further back, although I am sorry to cause you more pain but it cannot be helped if I am to be honest with you.” Darcy waited for her to say she was ready before he went on. “My infatuation for Miss Bennet was, at the time, very real for me. I thought I was in love, felt all the passions and devotion of a man who loves a woman beyond reason itself. Her rejection cut me and it was some time before I was able to look upon the incident without bitterness. She was correct, though. The strength of my initial objections to the match did overcome my affections. They were not true, not love, but a shallow relative that would never have lasted past the first few months of marriage. We would both have been miserable had she accepted me.

“I have already told you of my reasons for marrying you. I have had not one moment of regret in my decision and am ever thankful for yours in agreeing to become my wife.” Darcy paused, licking his lips. His mouth was dry, anticipation of what was to come next bringing with it no little anxiety. “If I said I was surprised to find Miss Bennet here upon my return from Pemberley it would be shockingly understated. I had no notion of her family’s misfortunes which resulted in her having to seek out employment to support herself, but to have her end up in our home was unacceptable. Her discomfort with the situation was at least as great as mine and I immediately began enquiries into the circumstances surrounding her placement here. What I discovered was disheartening but, as it is not my intention to engender your sympathy for Miss Bennet, I shall not elaborate on that. Suffice it to say that with her already in possession of your approval and no reason to have her removed from our employ beyond my prior history with the young lady, something I hope you understand I was loath to reveal to you, I was at a loss as to how to accomplish it.” He finally had to look away, unable to witness her reaction to the rest. “I must confess here that there was also a part of me that did not desire her removal. Seeing Miss Bennet again had disturbed my orderly existence and, as unbearable as it was, I found myself reluctant to let her go. There were... feelings I had thought long since dispensed with that arose again, not entirely unpleasant. I now have the luxury of knowing those feelings were not real, that they are not real, but in the cold certainty of daily exposure and the trial of finding a solution to an insupportable situation, along with my own guilty conscience, I was deceived by my imagination. As you observed, at no time did Miss Bennet encourage me but I was unable to prevent myself from reliving much of my past behaviour in her presence.”

Turning to face her once again, Darcy continued. “Sophia, this is the most difficult part for me to relate. I beg of you to listen to me without interruption.” He fully expected his wife to exercise her anger upon him with his confession and knew that it would give him some measure of satisfaction to feel her hand strike his face if it would grant her some relief. “I behaved most shamefully the evening Fitzwilliam dined here with us. I had found it impossible to reconcile Miss Bennet’s change in status from servant to guest in our home, then to have my cousin confirm their engagement and know that her profound dislike of me was the complete opposite of what she felt for him... My weakness was inexcusable. I thought I could lose myself in the brandy I drank and perhaps nothing would have come of it but for Miss Bennet’s unfortunate choice to visit the library before retiring. I had no control of my tongue and grossly insulted her with improper suggestions. I admit that I do not recall the exact details for my senses were too far gone to function, however, the prospect of taking her as my mistress was not far from my thoughts or expressions.”

At this Sophia choked out a small gasp, the only emotion she had displayed during the entirety of Darcy’s speech. He waited for her to speak but she steadfastly remained silent. He sighed imperceptibly, wishing for some indication of her opinion, then picked up the tale once more. “I awoke yesterday morning in as dignified a position as I had any right to expect; face down on the carpet of the library, the taste of my evening’s dissipation strong in my mouth and my head. I had no doubt of my guilt, despising myself for it from the very moment my mind comprehended my surroundings. Fitch alone knew where I had spent the night and performed his duties with more grace than I was entitled in returning me to my bed.” The rest of that day was not worth repeating for nothing but Darcy’s own thoughts had played a role. The call from his cousin was important, though, and he felt the argument between Sophia and himself vital to revisit. “Your appearance in my dressing room frightened me. It was a novel sensation, Sophia. I have been afraid of nothing in my life, nothing except losing those dearest to me. My mother, my father, Georgiana... and suddenly I was afraid of losing you. Still, I was too blind to recognise it. No,” he corrected, “I was too determined to silence it. Can you imagine my surprise when you said you love me? I had not imagined the possibility but after you voiced it I felt it the most natural desire in the world to be loved by you. I wanted it. I had always wanted it and refused to believe. Such arrogance I possess! Have you ever known a man to think himself above needing love?” At least she responded with a shake of her head at this question. Darcy dropped his face into his hands, speaking the last from within the curl of his fingers. “I disclosed the whole of my dishonourable scene with Miss Bennet to Fitzwilliam last night. Had he chosen the gentleman’s right I would have met him this morning at dawn and admitted to the world of my sins. He did not wish to dirty his hands in even that manner of retribution.” Darcy fell silent at last.

For several minutes Sophia sat unmoving, her gaze shifting from her husband to the objects in the room and back again. When she spoke it was not the voice of anger nor of sorrow. A cool tone of mild surprise declared, “That explains the final piece of the puzzle, then; the letter I found in your study. Did you intend to post it after receiving Miss Bennet’s answer?”

Darcy blinked, comprehension eluding him. “Letter?”

“Yes, my dear,” she said with impatience. “The letter to your solicitor about a house purchased in Miss Bennet’s name. Do you not remember it, or do you deal in so many properties that this one has slipped your mind?”

“No,” he replied, swallowing his indignation at her sarcasm. “That I can explain with no need to feel guilt or shame.”

Her eyebrows rose in adamant disbelief. “I’m waiting.”

“The house purchase is part of a more extensive plan of Bingley’s design. It is not Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s name to whom it was to be entrusted but her sister, Lydia.”

“I do not understand.” Sophia’s confusion was less pronounced than her relief, however. She was truly interested in hearing the details if this last difficult obstacle could be removed.

“In the course of my investigation into Miss Bennet’s misfortunes my agent discovered a tragic set of circumstances involving the youngest of the Bennet sisters, Miss Lydia. I cannot help but take on at least a portion of the blame for it was George Wickham who misled her and caused her eventual misery.” This history brought Darcy much grief for the wasted life that might have been different had he been more forward thinking with regard to his old friend. “Miss Lydia was struck by a carriage which resulted in her being reduced in mental capacity to that of a five year old child. She resides in the care of a near disreputable institution for that was all her family could afford. It was Bingley’s aim to provide better medical care for the young woman and he asked for my assistance. I arranged for the purchase of a house so that Miss Lydia might be moved there, placed under the care of a physician who is known for his progressive approach to such cases, and that her mother and any unmarried sisters could be accommodated as well. Naturally, I did not want my involvement to be known to Mrs. Bennet, nor to any of the family, thus my request to keep the ownership of the property confidential. Should anything untoward happen to me, the house would be maintained in trust for Miss Lydia Bennet to ensure that she and her remaining family are not thrown into the hedgerows to starve.” His lips curved up in a wry grin for a moment, then Darcy became grim once more. “Bingley will provide the funds for Miss Lydia’s care. You may enquire of him if my explanation is not to your satisfaction.”

Sophia had no idea what to say. She had always known Darcy was an honourable and generous man, the scope of which she was only beginning to comprehend. “I have been a fool.”

Immediately he was before her, Sophia’s delicate fingers between his hands. “You were never the fool. It was I, a fool from the very start.”

There was so much to absorb, so much to forgive, and her heart ached hearing the frankness of his words. Sophia longed to kiss him and forget it all, caught up in the power of her love for him, but she knew that was not realistic; too many others were involved in this to ignore the implications. The least she could do was to offer him hope, or perhaps it was for herself that she decided to break the tension. “I told you that I love you, Fitzwilliam. That has not changed, nor will it ever.”

His eyes closed tightly for several seconds before he was able to speak. “You cannot know what joy you have given me,” he whispered, lips pressed to her hands. “I will not disappoint you, Sophia. Never again.”

Hand paused at the bell, Bingley took a deep breath and reconsidered, then rang it. Darcy’s servants were always prompt; the door opened and he was ushered inside, conducted to the Master’s study to wait. It seemed an unusually long time before his friend appeared and one look told Bingley that Darcy had been under more strain than normal. The man was pale, drawn and his eyes looked haunted.

“This might not be a good time,” he said, involuntarily voicing his thoughts aloud.

Darcy frowned slightly, the motion making his eyes look even darker. “A good time for what? I presume you have come for the letters. I have them here.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a sheaf of papers, all folded and duly sealed.

Bingley stared at them, unseeing. Accepting the stack, he said, “Actually, there is another matter.”

“Another matter.” Darcy wondered how much more complicated his day could become.

“Georgiana...” Bingley hesitated.

Suddenly recalling the catalyst for his argument with Sophia, Darcy suppressed a groan. “I was supposed to speak with Georgiana yesterday but did not. I’m sorry, Bingley. I know she is upset and I should not have put off my visit.”

Bingley had practised this speech several times but it refused to get any easier. “Darcy, I am going to discuss this with Georgiana later today but I wanted to give you some advance warning. She’s feeling a little overwhelmed right now, I think, and is having some second thoughts about getting married. Now, don’t be alarmed. I’m sure that it – .”

Darcy’s waving hand interrupted him. “Bingley, I know she has voiced a wish to break your engagement. Until I speak to her I cannot guess at the possible reasons she has for such an action.”

Bingley’s apprehensions fell aside. He looked his friend straight in the eye. “I think she is too young. She needs more time before taking on the commitment of marriage.”

Darcy exhaled sharply. “Sophia agrees with you. I cannot ignore the opinions of two people I so highly respect.” He glanced at the other man. “Have you discussed with Georgiana the ramifications of breaking your agreement?”

“Darcy, I have no desire to lay any claims should we choose to put an end to it. It will be by mutual consent even if Georgiana is the one to request it. I will not let it be known otherwise. If need be I will accept all blame for breaking the engagement.” He was adamant.

“That is precisely why I value your friendship, Bingley.” There was nothing left to say. Until Georgiana and Bingley came to a decision there was no action to take. Darcy wanted to reassure his friend on one more matter, however. “If this is truly what Georgiana wants then I will not stand in your way. Neither will I voice any opinion one way or the other. The decision is for both of you to make but I will listen to either of you should you feel the need to express your thoughts and feelings.” He rubbed the fingers of both hands against his temples. “I am hardly in any position to judge,” he muttered.

Bingley studied his friend for a moment before saying quietly, “Is there anything I can do to help you, Darcy?”

“Thank you, but no.” Shaking his head, the other man gave a wry smile. “I’ve created my own problems and hope that I’ve made a good beginning on rectifying them. Time will tell.”

Offering a comforting hand upon Darcy’s shoulder, Bingley said, “Sophia loves you, I’m sure of it. I’m sorry to add to your burden, though.”

“It’s nothing less than I deserve for I interfered in your affairs with regard to Miss Bennet and encouraged you with my sister. I should have kept out of it.” Once again his smile was almost forced. “How is it that everyone else could see Sophia’s feelings but me?”

“You never sought them.”

Darcy could only nod reluctantly. Bingley was more perceptive than he had ever realised.

“I shall take these,” Bingley said, holding the letters aloft, “to the solicitor’s immediately. I would like to see this plan begun as soon as possible.”

Darcy interrupted his sister’s late breakfast. She was astonished when he arrived barely moments after she had sat down to the table.

“Fitzwilliam!” she cried. “Is something wrong? Is someone ill? Tell me it’s not Edwin!” She flew from her seat, grabbing his arm in concern.

“Calm yourself, Georgiana. I have come, actually, at your request, or had you forgotten about your petition to Sophia?” He looked into her face, seeing the anxiety change to embarrassment as her thoughts completed the circle.

“I’m sorry. I had, indeed, forgotten.” She covered her mouth, eyes wide. “I mean, I forgot that I’d asked Sophia to speak with you. Oh, Fitzwilliam, are you very angry with me?”

Darcy patted her hand reassuringly. “I am not angry with you at all, my dear. Come, let us sit down where we may speak more freely.”

They left the dining room for the greater privacy of the parlour where a pot of coffee was set out. Georgiana dismissed the servant, pouring out the coffee herself. Her brother accepted his cup, sitting down next to her on the sofa.

“Bingley came to see me this morning,” he began. “Admirable of him, unsurprisingly, to try to divert any negative response away from you and upon himself. Neither of you need worry, however. Whatever agreement has been settled between you I will not oppose.” For a moment his brow clouded. “I only wish I could have been the kind of brother you would have felt easy in approaching with this matter. I am sorry that I failed you, Georgiana.”

“Failed me?” she repeated in amazement. “You have not failed me, Fitzwilliam. It is I who let you down, first with George and now with Charles.”

“You are young. The fault lies with me. I will hear no more argument from you, my dear girl. The matter is closed.” He sipped at his coffee while they were silent. Finally, placing his cup in the saucer, Darcy asked her to tell him her wishes with regard to Bingley. “It is entirely possible that the wedding be postponed indefinitely if you prefer.”

“Oh, no!” cried Georgiana. “That would be so unfair to Charles!”

“I am interested only in your wishes at the moment. Do you feel a reluctance to marry now or is it in marrying Bingley?” He took her hand firmly. “Long engagements are not unheard of. If you merely want more time it can be arranged. If, on the other hand, you would prefer to settle on another suitor eventually, then we shall move forward with formally dissolving the engagement between you.”

Her head had fallen lower and lower as he spoke until her chin almost came to rest against her breastbone. “I do not want to marry Charles,” she quietly said.

Darcy nodded slowly. “Very well,” was all he said.

She peered timidly at him. “You truly are not angry with me?”

“I am not. I am very sorry to have pressured you, Georgiana. I should not have been so quick to grant approval to Bingley’s request despite my own wishes. I do not blame either of you. It was entirely my own mistake.” His gaze softened as he looked upon her. “Can you forgive me for causing you both such grief?”

Georgiana dared to contradict him in her soft voice. “You did what you thought best for me. I cannot fault you for that. If you need me to forgive you, then I shall.”

“Would that all my transgressions were so easily absolved,” mused Darcy, patting her hand. Fortunately his sister did not hear the remark, or else chose not to pursue it, for she thanked him instead.

He did not wish to stay long once the most important business with Georgiana was complete. Darcy was eager to return to Sophia, although not so eager to return to the painful subjects that must still be discussed. The meeting with Bingley had brought more information to trouble his thoughts. Bidding his sister goodbye he returned to his carriage for the trip home.

Placing a hand against his head in a vain effort to ward off the pounding within, Darcy leaned against the back of the seat, wishing he dared pray for the happiness of everyone involved. He counted the number of people made miserable by the decisions he had made, directions he had chosen, and winced at his own ignorance in believing he knew what was best for them.

I didn’t even know what was best for myself!

Again his thoughts turned to Sophia with the crushing weight of despair.

“You need never see him again. I’ll not mourn the loss of his companionship.” Fitzwilliam’s anger had not waned but he remained able to temper his words for Elizabeth’s ears.

Her troubled gaze was fixed on him. “That is not my wish, that you lose a friendship you’ve valued so highly all for the sake of his.... drunken rambling.”

“The insult to you far outweighs any value I could place on our friendship! I will not have any man place you in such a position!” He took hold of her hands, pressing them to his forehead. “Elizabeth, if you can truly forgive Darcy then you have more kindness within you than I had realised. How came I to deserve such a lady?”

“I am not so wondrous as you would declare, sir,” she said with feeling. “Please, Richard. He was in the wrong and has admitted it, confessed his error to you and risked everything, even his own marriage, when he need not have said a word. I think he will punish himself more than anyone else can punish him.”

Fitzwilliam searched her expression curiously. “You must have felt offended at his words, though!”

“Yes, of course! I was incensed but reason was soon restored to me when I saw he was not in possession of any. It is no excuse, to be sure, but I think most other men in his condition would not have been as... restrained.”

“Restrained!” burst from his lips. “I cannot be so generous, Elizabeth. He was contemplating how to take you as a mistress while his wife slept sweetly above stairs!”

“It was the brandy,” she weakly protested.

“It was his –!” Fitzwilliam stopped and ground his teeth together in frustration. “I am too much of a gentleman to say it.”

Elizabeth sank down into one of the chairs. Wearily she said, “Perhaps you do not know the whole. I am responsible for a great deal of your cousin’s pain. It was unintentional and I thought long buried when misfortune saw fit to settle me in service under Lady Sophia’s hand.”

“If you are referring to your refusal of Darcy’s marriage offer then you may spare your breath. He told me of it.”

“Did he? Well, he cannot know why I had refused him for he did not ask, nor did I elaborate. The simple fact is that I did not like him, but later events in my life showed me that I had misjudged the character of one man whose words I allowed to prejudice my opinion of Mr. Darcy.”

“Wickham,” whispered Fitzwilliam.

Elizabeth’s head lowered in shame. “Yes. He filled my head with stories of abuse at the hand of your cousin, stories I readily believed because I wanted to. By the time I discovered Mr. Wickham’s true character, too much damage had been done. I understood that my estimation of Mr. Darcy may have been equally wrong.”

Fearful of the answer, the Viscount asked, “Without Wickham’s interference would you have accepted Darcy?”

Elizabeth’s reply was prompt. “No. I did not like him, regardless of Mr. Wickham’s tales. I might perhaps have come to respect him eventually but at the time he proposed Mr. Darcy had not made any effort to win my affections, let alone earn my respect.”

Fitzwilliam’s laugh was short but loud. “What a hard woman I am to call my wife! I delight in fancying you like me, at least!”

She blushed prettily. “More than a little,” she bravely announced, chin held high. Her heart beat a bit faster when he requested a kiss to reassure her of his love.

It was a brief touching of their lips but enough for Elizabeth to taste the longing that lurked behind his polite words. Her face must have given away the direction of her thoughts for he leaned close to say in a secretive voice, “I dare not give in to the feelings you invoke, my dear Elizabeth. Your uncle would have me thrown out immediately.”

She laughed in a mix of amusement and uncertainty. “I believe he would grant us some leniency, being that we are engaged.”

“Yes,” mused the Viscount. “I am reminded that I must see to the publishing of the banns as soon as possible.

“There cannot be a need for haste now, surely?”

“Haste? Not at all. I merely wish to make public what we have already decided between us.” He appeared apprehensive as he said, “Unless you have changed your mind?”

“No,” Elizabeth quickly reassured him. “I’m sorry to have caused you alarm. I wanted to be certain that recent events have not influenced your choice.”

“The only recent event to influence me is your acceptance of my hand,” he said, bringing hers to his lips and placing a soft kiss upon the back. “Now I find myself impatient to make it a fait accompli.”

“My Lord!” she exclaimed, but the light in her eyes proclaimed her delight in his attentions.

A moment later the door to the parlour opened and Mrs. Gardiner entered. She did not look directly at them, not for a moment or so, to allow an opportunity to collect themselves. “Well, Lizzy,” she finally said. “Did you write to your mother? I shall have it posted with my letters this morning if you did.”

“Oh! I have not but it won’t take me a minute.” Elizabeth jumped up to look for some paper and a pen in the desk near the window.

“It would not do to have her read it in the papers,” admonished her aunt.

“I shall arrange for a carriage to take you there so that you may inform her in person,” offered Fitzwilliam.

“Thank you but that is not necessary. Believe me, a letter is much easier.”

“I insist.” His smile was full, believing Elizabeth was merely being polite in declining the trip.

She knew he was right yet the thought of her mother’s reaction being the Viscount’s introduction to his future mother-in-law was disheartening. Nevertheless, Elizabeth felt a sudden longing to leave London behind after all the tumult of the previous weeks and even the prospect of Mrs. Bennet’s nervous outburst could not completely oppress her. “You have convinced me,” she said with a smile of her own. “When would be convenient?”

“Tomorrow?” He laughed at the look of surprise on her face. “If the announcements are to appear in tomorrow’s papers then we should plan to arrive before them, don’t you think?”

“Of course,” agreed Mrs. Gardiner. “Jane will go with you, naturally. I’m sure she would enjoy seeing her mother and sisters again, too.” At Elizabeth’s doubtful expression she said, “Now, don’t worry. I can cope without her for a few days and you certainly cannot go without a chaperone.”

Mindful of the gentleman’s earlier display of his feelings, Elizabeth could not disagree.

“If you will excuse me,” said Fitzwilliam, rising from his chair and bowing to Mrs. Gardiner, “I should acquaint my own parents with our news after I have seen to the announcement for the papers.”

“Lizzy, you’ve provided his Lordship with all the necessary particulars?” Mrs. Gardiner enquired.

“Yes, Aunt.”

“Very well. Good morning to you, sir, and shall you be returning later?”

“I do believe my errands may take the better part of today.” He turned to Elizabeth with an apologetic look. “I will come tomorrow after breakfast if that is convenient for you?”

She nodded, sure that whatever needed to be packed could be done quickly and easily. Elizabeth offered her hand to Fitzwilliam, who accepted it with pleasure. “Good luck, Richard,” she whispered, not a little concerned for the impending reaction of his parents.

He gave her one of his most tender smiles, then bid both ladies a good day.

Part Twelve

Posted on Sunday, 23 July 2006

“Sophia.”

He seemed hesitant. Sophia kept her own expression as neutral as possible. “Come in, Fitzwilliam.”

There was only one other chair he could choose that would allow them to comfortably converse, but it necessitated sitting very close to her. He remained standing. “I have just come from Georgiana.”

“I see.” Her gaze dropped to her husband’s hands as he nervously turned his ring around his finger. “What has been decided?”

Darcy let out a long sigh. “The engagement has been broken. Georgiana will not be marrying Bingley.”

“I am sorry.” Sophia closed her eyes, truly disturbed by the unhappy situation. “How is she?”

“She believes herself at fault, concerned for Bingley’s feelings more than her own.”

Sophia found herself nodding. “Yes, she felt that it was unfair to marry him when he loves her but she cannot return the affection.”

“She said that?” Darcy abandoned the security of his position and sunk into the chair. “I have been unbelievably obtuse in determining others’ feelings.”

“You thought she loved him?” Longing to reach out and brush away the frown lines from his brow, Sophia withstood the temptation. “I daresay Georgiana thought the same in the beginning but it was merely an infatuation.”

“Infatuation,” Darcy repeated. “Such a cruel condition of the human mind. I would have subjected her to misery for my own blindness.” His gaze suddenly sought his wife’s compassionate expression.

“Should I go to her, do you think?” she asked.

“I know not what to think anymore. You are better qualified to judge. Have I not brought enough suffering to you both?” He didn’t wait for her answer but rose from the chair and moved toward the window. “Then there is Bingley. I wronged him, also.”

Sophia followed him, stopping just within an arm’s reach. “He cared for her and still does. Perhaps not as much as you thought there, as well.”

“There is much more to it. He loves another and I knew that.” Unwilling to see the reaction his words would cause, Darcy continued to face the window. “I persuaded him of her unsuitability and, more importantly, I convinced him of her indifference toward him. I was wrong and should never have interfered. I was responsible for their separation and heartbreak. I realised this only a few days ago, however. I cannot hope for Bingley’s forgiveness. His friendship is lost to me.”

“I am sorry,” she said again.

This made him turn to face her. “You apologise for my wrongs! I have done nothing to deserve your consolation.”

Sophia shook her head, emotions whirling, and lightly stroked his cheek with her fingers. “I see you are hurt and I cannot bear it. I love you, Fitzwilliam. No matter what has happened, nor what has been said between us, that will never change. I may need time to become more confident in our marriage once again but do not doubt that I will continue to fulfill my role as your wife.”

“After all I have said and done, you cannot bear my pain.” Darcy struggled with feelings of relief that her loyalty remained constant and anger for his own selfish desire to preserve their marriage at any cost. “What can I do to make up for all the ways I have injured you?” He attempted to meet her gaze but his wife’s eyes were averted. “Sophia,” he whispered. “I do not want a wife in name only.”

Lady Matlock was entertaining a few ladies in the morning room when her son enquired, via a footman, of her availability for an audience. This in itself was an oddity. The Viscount was on such terms with his father, the Earl’s awareness being rather questionable of late, but to resort to third party intervention with his mother was enough to awaken her maternal instincts. It was fortunate, then, that her guests’ visiting time had come to an end.

Scarcely a half hour later she was in the sitting room adjoining her chambers, awaiting her son’s appearance. After first observing him closely for any signs of imminent trouble, Lady Matlock commanded him to sit while the servant poured them tea.

“Tell me, my dear Richard, what has you so worried about my reaction that you felt obliged to formality? Request an audience indeed!” She waved the servant away, watching Fitzwilliam sit back, quite relaxed and sipping his tea. “Perhaps you are not concerned for my opinion at all. You certainly give every indication of being satisfied with something.”

He chuckled softly, reaching forward to pat his mother’s hand. “I am always respectful of your opinions, Mother, but you are correct. This time I will not be swayed whatever your view of the matter.”

“This is hardly reassuring,” she said a trifle unsteadily. There could be but one subject, in her estimation, that could make her son dig in his heels in such a fashion.

“I have found a lady who has done me the great honour of accepting my offer of marriage,” Fitzwilliam solemnly declared.

“My word, I knew it had to do with a woman,” the Countess sighed. “I don’t quite know what to think or say.”

“Are you not pleased for me?”

“How could I have an opinion one way or the other?” she cried. “You have given me no warning at all, nor have I any clue to the identity of this young woman! You will insist I be pleased and like her, regardless of my feelings.”

Her son began to apologise for his secretive behaviour. “This is not the result of some torrid affair or ill-considered courtship. I met Miss Bennet more than two years ago and then happened upon her more recently while she was shopping in town. Mother, I would have courted her the first time had I been more than a second son in need of a wife with her own fortune. You see, Miss Bennet has none.”

“Of course.”

That brought him to his feet. “I expected the Earl to offer a comment like that but not you, Mother!”

“Oh sit down, Richard!” Lady Matlock folded her hands together and waited for him to attend her. “Now, who is she?”

He could not remain disgruntled and speak of his betrothed. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She comes from Hertfordshire and is the daughter of a country gentleman.”

“A gentleman with no fortune?” She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “I do not recall any Bennets from that area, nor any Bennets of significance at all. What have you done, Richard?”

“What do you mean?” Indignation at the implication in her question almost made him rise from the chair again.

“Be mindful of your position, Richard,” she replied without sounding overbearing. “A young woman of unknown origin? You are not serious, are you?”

“I am perfectly serious, I assure you.” His expressions softened. “Once you meet her, Mother, you will understand how her lack of fortune is a ridiculous impediment. I have proposed and been accepted. The announcement will be in tomorrow’s papers.”

“Very well, since you are so decided. Do not expect me to intervene with the Earl, however.”

The Viscount rose with dignity. “I shall speak with him directly.” He smiled and thanked her before leaving.

The Earl was to be found bundled in robes, seated near the fire in his chambers. His coughing could be heard through the closed door. Fitzwilliam immediately enquired about his father’s health upon entering the room.

“It is a nasty cold, sir,” replied the manservant who had tended Lord Matlock the last twenty years, “but merely a cold, all the same.”

“Is that your way of telling me I needn’t worry?” The Viscount was sceptical.

“At his age, my Lord, even a cold takes on a violent appearance.”

Fitzwilliam sat down near his father, observing that the older man’s colour was not as worrisome as he’d first thought. “Has the doctor been to see you today?” he asked in a voice louder than usual.

The Earl squinted but did not look at his son. “I’m not deaf, boy. No need to shout.”

There was no point in arguing that he hadn’t shouted. Fitzwilliam tried the question a second time. “What did Doctor Thatcher have to say this morning? Is there some improvement?”

“Oh,” grumbled Lord Matlock. “He speaks nonsense. Tells me there’s no fever. I know that! Don’t need to pay any doctor to state the obvious. What about this cough, I asked him.” A round of just that interrupted his complaints. “There, you see?” he said when it was over. “What’s to be done about that? He gave me some vile substance to swallow several times each day and then states that the cough will last another three days at least.”

“You will take the concoction, thought,” affirmed his son.

“I will not.”

Fitzwilliam shrugged. “If you prefer the company of your coughing then so be it. I have not come to argue with you.”

“What have you come for?”

Assuming as casual an air as possible the Viscount related his news. “I am to marry, sir. I hoped you would find pleasure in the knowledge.”

“Marry?” One eye squinted at his son. ‘I must say, you’re quicker about this than your brother was. Well done! Take a wife, produce an heir and I might get to see him before I’m done on this earth. Who did you pick? One of Ramsey’s nieces no doubt. Didn’t you bring one of those home last year?”

“No, you are confusing me with my brother, and it has been at least three years since those ladies have wed.”

“Oh. Well, no matter.” The Earl was silent for a while, as if organising his memories. At last he looked again at Fitzwilliam. “Married, eh? Glad to hear it. Waste of time, picking over them and looking for flaws. They’ve all got ‘em! Just settle on one and be done with it. Fortune and a good name... or is that name and a good fortune?” Shaking his head dismissively, he went on, “As long as you get a son or two out of her there’s no cause for complaint and you are free to do as you wish after that.”

Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, looking for patience. “I’m free to do as I wish now.”

“Eh?” the older man barked. “What’s that? No, no! You make sure you’ve got legal heirs before you go sowing other fields. If your brother had listened to me –.”

“I’d still be in the army,” finished the Viscount. “I’m glad you approve, anyway.” He rose to leave, not wanting to tax his father’s strength and hoping to escape further questioning.

“You’ll bring her to me tomorrow,” stated the Earl. “Tomorrow, yes. I’ll expect you here before tea.”

“Tomorrow is not convenient.”

“Convenient?” his father huffed. “She’ll do your bidding, mark my words.”

“Good day, Father.” Fitzwilliam bowed and quickly departed.

Jane watched her sister closely as Elizabeth carefully folded the few items of clothing she would take to Hertfordshire on the morrow. Her own bag was already closed and waiting by the door. In spite of her pleasant anticipation in seeing her family again, Jane was concerned that something was still amiss.

“Lizzy,” she ventured, smiling warmly when her sister looked up. “You have not said anything but I sense it did not go well when you left Lady Sophia’s house. Do you wish to talk about it?”

For Jane to broach the subject informed Elizabeth that her efforts to conceal her distress had not been completely successful. There was regret that she’d had no opportunity to confide the truth of her situation; the unexpected discovery of her unintentional intrusion into the life of Mr. Darcy. One moment was all it took for Elizabeth to decide that Jane, at least, should be told immediately. Her sister could, perhaps, help in finding a way to ease the disturbing thoughts and feelings that had troubled her sleep as well as her waking hours.

“If you would rather not, Lizzy, then I shall not press you,” Jane said when the silence stretched out between them. “It’s just that you sometimes look so unhappy and I worry about you.”

Elizabeth shook her head, fond amusement in her countenance. “Oh, sweet Jane. You have suffered as much, if not more, and still you seek to help others over yourself.” She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands falling into her lap while still holding the garment she’d been folding. “I must tell someone and of course it could be no other but you, my dearest sister. I have trusted you my entire life, with my secrets and my fears. Like no one else, you will understand my feelings.” Elizabeth looked up to see Jane’s comforting expression. “Lady Sophia gave me no trouble, neither before nor when I chose to leave. It was her husband who was the cause of my difficulty.”

“Her husband?” Jane’s eyes were wide with innocent confusion. “Was he not in agreement with his wife?”

“Oh, Jane! I don’t know how to say this.” Elizabeth rose and began to anxiously pace the short distance from the bed to the door. “It was the greatest shock to me to discover that Lady Sophia’s husband is none other than Mr. Darcy.” She nodded at her sister’s gasp. “Yes, you can imagine the awkwardness, how simply horrible it was.”

“Oh, Lizzy!” Jane immediately reached out to comfort Elizabeth. “Why did you not leave?”

“How could I have left, Jane? Neither Mr. Darcy nor I knew the truth of the situation until I was already settled in. It seems incredible that I should not have known, or hadn’t heard, but that’s exactly what happened. More than a week had passed before I realised who was the Master of the house and my employer. All was well until then.” She paused to take a deep breath. “Mr. Darcy promised to find a way that I could leave without suffering any ill effect that might hinder my chances of finding another position.”

Jane was shaking her head. “Why did you not tell our aunt and uncle? Lizzy, you know they would help in any way possible.”

“That is true but it would have been necessary for me to relate the events of two years ago to properly explain my reasons for wanting to terminate my employment. I couldn’t do that, Jane. So many things I regret saying and doing for if I had been more temperate and less judgmental so many evils might have been avoided.”

“You refer to Lydia’s misfortunes.” Jane’s soft voice and sensitive expression spoke of her own sadness over that event. “It could not have been prevented, you know. She would have found some other adventure to entertain herself with much the same result, I’m convinced.”

Elizabeth looked upon her sister with wonder. “When did you become cynical, Jane? How did I miss it?” Was it your disappointment over Mr. Bingley that changed you? Mr. Darcy has so much to answer for!

“I have taken a lesson or two from you, Lizzy. I am trying to be more realistic in my outlook. It is for the better.” A reassuring smile accompanied her explanation. “I am responsible for our young cousins now and cannot allow myself to be lax in my vigilance.”

Quickly, Elizabeth drew her close. “Oh, Jane, how I will miss your optimistic views and cheerful forecasts. Now more than ever do I wish things had gone differently.”

“Surely you do not mean you would have married Mr. Darcy!”

“And why not?” quipped Elizabeth, a sparkle in her eye. “Just think of all the opportunities my sisters would have had, being thrown into company with any number of rich young men!” She sighed, all amusement suddenly gone. “No, of course I wouldn’t have married Mr. Darcy. Although I have since discovered many admirable qualities in the man, my initial objections remain. He is too proud and makes little effort to think of others before himself.”

“You could not be happy with such a man.”

“No, and I am determined to be happy.” Elizabeth squeezed Jane’s hand. “I would like to see you happy, too.”

“And I shall be happy,” her sister assured, “when you marry Richard.”

“I like that you call him Richard,” smiled Elizabeth. “Oh, Jane, I am dreading Mama’s reaction tomorrow. If only I could believe she would be sensible and behave accordingly. I fear a scene that will only embarrass Richard and mortify me.”

“I wish I could set your mind at ease, Lizzy, but we both know Mama has not changed so much since Papa died.” This solemn thought brought silence for a few moments. Then Jane spoke again. “He would have been so proud of you.”

One tear escaped before Elizabeth could prevent it. “I miss him, Jane,” she whispered. “Oh, how I miss him.”

A gentle breeze flowed through the open window with just enough strength to set Sophia’s gown fluttering. Darcy’s attention was drawn to the movement, caught in the simplicity of the action. Neither of them had spoken for some minutes. While he had been anxious not to say too much, nor too little, her silence in the wake of his question only brought more uneasiness. Tentatively, he reached out with one hand to touch her arm. Sophia looked up, her eyes filled with something indefinable.

“Please don’t say it’s duty that keeps you here, Sophia. Please....”

So much of herself had already been laid bare she hesitated to speak, but courage welled up from within and she dared to ask, “Did you feel any more than your duty when you asked me to marry you?”

A curious thoughtfulness intruded on Darcy’s senses. “At the time I expressed my respect and admiration for you, did I not? That was not a lie. I suspect I did not say it very well, however. So much has changed.... I did not want any love then. It wasn’t necessary and certainly not expected.” His gaze held hers steadily just as his hands grasped her fingers with a gentle persuasiveness. “I do want it now. The effect your words had upon me... I cannot believe it! You blurted it out so angrily as if loving me was the greatest abhorrence and I heard it without the faintest idea of you ever being so touched. What sort of husband have I been to you, Sophia? How could you not despise me all this time?”

Her sigh was deep and when she spoke it was in a voice heavy with emotion. “I did not despise you because you were all I wanted. I married you without love. As I grew to know you better that is when I fell in love with you. The strong and proud Fitzwilliam Darcy is the one I love; the man who is not afraid to state his opinions and stands by them, even when others disagree. Yes, even when I disagreed with your views I could respect and love you for standing by your own. I would never dream of expressing my opinions, I’m sure you know. That is not the way I was raised nor trained to perform in our society. For that same reason I could never tell you how I felt. It was not part of our agreement and I would not have you thinking I was less than the woman you married.”

“Less? Sophia, you are more than I had believed when I proposed. I expected a wife who could perform those social duties properly and with taste. I discovered you were more adept at handling the evils of our class than I ever suspected. To think that I may never have known such a woman had your first husband survived! It is horrible of me to be thankful for another’s misfortune but I cannot help it. To know that you love me in addition to every other joy you have brought to my life is unparalleled. Please tell me, Sophia... please tell me it is not duty that keeps you here with me now.” His mouth ceased speaking in words and instead sought to communicate his love and desire for her in other ways, beginning with attention to the softest and most vulnerable areas of her throat. He felt her tremble and pulled back, looking at her with apprehension. “Do not be afraid to tell me what you are feeling, what you want me to do. If you wish me to leave...”

“No!” Her voice was quiet yet desperate. “Do not go.” She drew in her breath. “You must know how difficult it is for me to speak thus. I was taught to accept and submit, not to desire or enjoy my husband’s attentions.”

He looked at her in astonishment. “I cannot claim to have been sensitive to your feelings, Sophia, but I never imagined you were merely submitting to my desires whenever we... whenever I came to you. Will you not allow yourself this chance to do as you please?”

“I...” Her gaze left his face, falling upon the cloth folds below his chin. “I have always wanted to do this,” she whispered, touching the soft fabric. Her fingers worked carefully at the knot, occasionally brushing against the skin of his throat. Darcy’s eyes slowly closed, enjoying every sensation Sophia’s touch invoked. Finally, the cloth fell away and he risked opening his eyes again, startled to see the concentration upon his wife’s face. Her mouth was slightly open and, as he watched, her tongue slowly and deliberately slid across her upper lip.

He inhaled sharply, drawing her attention. “Please continue.” His voice was gruff with barely contained desire.

A faint blush appeared in her cheeks. Sophia gathered up her courage, bringing her palms to rest on the slope of his shoulders. There she let them linger a moment before sending her hands further in examining his chest. She stopped over his heart, feeling the strong beat against her fingertips. “Once I begin I may not stop,” she warned.

“I do not want you to stop,” her husband quietly replied, “but it is what you want that concerns me. Do as you will, Sophia.”

“Then I want....”

“Yes?” he gently prompted when she lapsed into silence.

“I want you to want me.” Her breath caught in her throat, fear snatching away the courage that had allowed her to say the words. Sophia immediately realised how much she wanted to be loved again. It had been so long, felt like forever, since she had last heard the words; so long since she could allow herself to show her true feelings, and it left her vulnerable.

Darcy was watching her silently, unsure how to reply to such a simple request. Surely it would not be difficult to convey the strength of his love for her? Had he not been trying to do just that?

“That is no very difficult accomplishment,” he finally said, bringing their lips together to demonstrate just how much he desired his wife. Her body immediately pressed against his and with no effort at all he lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bed and laying her down upon the surface.

Sophia looked up at him, the flush in her cheeks now of a different origin. “This is how I remember our first encounters, Fitzwilliam.” She touched his face with one hand, tracing the line of his cheekbone. “Strong but gentle at the same time. You surprised me then but I can only love you more for it, now.”

Encouraged by her words, Darcy lent his energy to obliging his wife’s request and once again assured her of his love in every way imaginable.

She awoke in his arms, feeling no small measure of contentment. Warmth surrounded her, both in body and spirit.

“Good morning,” whispered a low voice in her ear. “Breakfast has already arrived.”

Raising herself on her elbows, Sophia peered over her husband’s form to see the small table set up in the sunlight spilling through the open curtains. Two chairs were placed on either side and steam escaped the covered platters. “What time is it? How did I manage to sleep so late?”

“Do you really need an explanation for that?” murmured Darcy, nuzzling behind one of her ears.

Sophia felt her face grow hot. “No,” she admitted, another rush of heat coursing through her body. Her mind was a jumble of delightful images and sensations. She blushed again and heard Darcy’s quiet laugh in her ear. “Stop that,” she shyly admonished, wishing more than ever that breakfast was not awaiting their attention. Her husband suddenly moved from her side and the blankets were thrown off.

“Come dine with me,” he said, extending a hand to beckon her from the bed. “I must have something to eat and if you choose to deny yourself at least allow me the pleasure of gazing upon you while I satisfy my hunger.” Leading her to one of the chairs, Darcy ensured her comfort before taking his own seat. “We shall not be disturbed. I left directions with Fitch that interruptions will not be tolerated for any reason.”

“Oh,” she said in some surprise.

“The carriage is being readied for our use this afternoon. I should like to take you out,” continued Darcy. “Do you have any preferences? I was thinking of Hyde Park.”

Sophia smiled. “To see or to be seen?”

“There is always that,” shrugged Darcy with a smile of his own. “Although I would much rather have you to myself all day there is a certain attractiveness in the idea of showing off my wife and knowing that we share a common affection.”

Again she smiled, amused by the understated emotion in his words. “Would you object to taking the boys with us?”

“Not at all!” The notion was more than appealing. “That is an excellent idea, Sophia. Thank you.”

The anticipation of a family outing brought with it a fresh sense of promise. Sophia felt a renewed interest in breakfast and considered where to begin.

Elizabeth could hear the cries from inside the house before her foot touched the ground. Her smile was weak upon meeting Fitzwilliam’s eyes. He handed her down from the carriage, then turned to assist Jane before taking Elizabeth’s arm and wrapping it about his own.

The front door opened and Mrs. Bennet burst out.

“Jane! Lizzy! Oh girls, it is really you!” she cried, rushing forward to take her daughters’ hands and squeeze them.

“Richard,” began Elizabeth, “I’d like you to meet my mother, Mrs. Honoria Bennet. Mama, may I present his Lordship, Richard Fitzwilliam, Viscount Rowsley.”

Mrs. Bennet immediately dropped a deep curtsey, turning her awe filled gaze on the gentleman.

“Mrs. Bennet, it is a pleasure to meet you,” said Fitzwilliam. He noticed the other figures emerging from the house.

Elizabeth had also seen them as well as people peeking out the neighbouring windows. Speaking in a low voice she suggested that they might move indoors.

“Why yes, of course!” whispered an embarrassed Mrs. Bennet. “Please do come in.”

The others in the doorway quickly disappeared and only when Elizabeth’s mother had shown the visitors into the sitting room were their identities made clear for they had already assembled in the chairs.

“My Lord, may I introduce my sister, Mrs. Philips, and my daughters Mary and Catherine. This,” she told the other ladies, “is his Lordship, Viscount Rowsley.”

Mary was the first to speak and for that Elizabeth was grateful. It curtailed her aunt’s usual vulgarity. Mary warmly smiled, an action far more frequent since her engagement, and curtseyed respectfully. “I am honoured to make your acquaintance, sir,” she said.

Kitty promptly followed suit and Mrs. Philips could not allow her nieces to outdo her. She concluded the welcome with an addendum that she had already arranged for refreshments to be served and the hope that his Lordship, Lizzy and Jane would be staying to dine that evening. As no arrangements had been made other than their accommodations for the night this plan was agreed upon, much to the satisfaction of Mrs. Philips and her sister.

“Thank you, my Lord,” Mrs. Bennet eagerly embraced his acceptance. “I have missed my girls so. It is wonderful to see them both again.” There were real tears in her eyes as she looked upon her eldest daughters.

“Would you please excuse me for a few minutes?” the Viscount asked. “I will just have a word with my coachmen and apprise them of our extended stay.” He bowed to the ladies and left the room.

Mrs. Bennet immediately pulled Elizabeth toward her, excited enquiries tumbling out of her mouth. “Lizzy! Where did you meet him? Do not tell me he’s your employer and only doing you a favour in dropping you off here! Oh, such a to-do! Sister! What are we to serve for dinner? Quick, send a note to the butcher to deliver –.”

“Mama, calm down,” urged Elizabeth. “There is plenty of time yet to plan for dinner.” There was, however, very little time to answer her mother’s many questions before Fitzwilliam returned.

In his absence the tea and cakes had arrived, Mary and Kitty seeing to the pouring and serving. After a few minutes of polite conversation, catching up on local gossip and general enquiries with regard to family, Fitzwilliam made ready to divulge the purpose of their visit.

“Mrs. Bennet, it gives me the greatest of pleasure to inform you of the reason for our trip here today.” His gaze was directed toward Elizabeth as he began the next portion of his announcement. “Your daughter Elizabeth has honoured me with her acceptance of my proposal of marriage.” Looking at Mrs. Bennet once more he added, “May we have your blessing?”

The longest silence prevailed, everyone holding their breaths, awaiting the onslaught of delight from the lady. The good woman had been struck dumb, however. Her lips would not open, her tongue could not move but her eyes shifted back and forth, from Elizabeth to the Viscount. Finally, a faint voice emerged. “Is this true? You are not playing with me?”

The Viscount assured her that there was no mistake.

“My Lizzy.... a Viscountess,” breathed her mother and promptly collapsed in a faint.

Posted on Sunday, 30 July 2006

Part Thirteen

Undoubtedly, most of the guests had come out of curiosity, eager to see the unknown young lady who had captured the Viscount. A few had come, however, to genuinely extend their wishes for joy and good health.

After a seemingly endless parade of polite faces, Lady Matlock was pleased to see her nephew and his wife. “Darcy,” she said, warmly taking his hand. “Sophia. Good evening to you both. What a delight to see you. Come, my feet are aching and it’s time I sat down.”

Darcy glanced briefly around them. “Where is my uncle? Has he abandoned his duty, then?”

A shadow fell over Lady Matlock’s face. “He no longer has the strength to cope with these social obligations. It worries me.”

Sophia reached out to place her hand on the older woman’s arm. “It has been a difficult year.”

Lady Matlock smiled weakly, yet her fears were not alleviated. “Darcy, tell me honestly what you feel about Richard’s choice. I’ve barely had any opportunity to get to know Miss Bennet and Richard is adamant. Has he fallen into a trap? She is not of the first circles, nowhere near it. Just look at her mother and her sisters.”

Sophia lowered her eyes, listening for the sound of her husband’s voice and wondering what he would say.

“I grant you that her family is.. not quite as refined as the company we are accustomed to keeping. Yet you may rest easy, Aunt. Miss Bennet is no fortune hunter. Although I cannot verify her feelings for my cousin, I can and do vouch for her honesty.”

“Well, that is a relief! Your opinion is held in high regard here, Darcy.” She turned her attention to her niece. “And do you agree with him, Sophia?”

“I trust my husband’s judgement, Lady Matlock.” She looked directly at Darcy as she spoke.

“Thank you. Thank you both. That eases my mind. Now I must leave you, I’m afraid. I am still hostess and must attend to my responsibilities. Please excuse me.” Away she went, pausing every now and then to make polite conversation with her guests.

Darcy watched her go, then looked to his wife.

“You were generous,” she said.

“I did not lie.”

“No, her feelings are not for any of us to know.”

“Fitzwilliam is satisfied.” Smiling at Sophia, he offered his arm and led her into the next room in search of his uncle. The Earl was not difficult to find, surrounded by several contemporaries who still clung to the hope that their own standing could be improved by association. Thankfully, they moved away upon the approach of Darcy and his wife.

“At least you did not forget your duty, nephew,” Lord Matlock announced without any further greeting. He coughed suddenly, waving away the servant who stood ready to assist him. “What about this woman my son intends to make Countess, eh? A nobody! He’s never listened to me in the past, though. Why should it be any different now? He can do as he pleases and keeps telling me so. Bah!” He brought a handkerchief to his mouth and coughed violently.

Darcy stepped forward to steady him with one hand. With the other he gestured to the servant, telling him to bring some brandy.

“You’re a good lad, Darcy,” said the Earl after a swallow of the brandy. “If your parents had lived they’d have found no fault with you.”

“You are too partial, sir. I am by no means without fault.”

The Earl waved his hand again with a grumbling protest. “I’m not talking about those personal defects we all have. No, I mean they taught you well and you followed their instructions as you ought.” Pointing a finger at Sophia he bid her come closer. “This Lady here. Now, you could not have chosen finer, could you? Breeding, eh? A pedigree even! Beautiful, too. My word, yes! Beauty and breeding. Dear Lady, you have it all.” He nudged his nephew with one elbow. “Beauty certainly makes the notion of breeding more attractive, wouldn’t you agree?”

Sophia politely ignored the remark but her husband bristled. “My Lord,” he said stiffly. “Please remember where you are.”

“Oh, posh!” the Earl barked. “You weren’t her first, Darcy. She’s no naive maiden anymore.”

“Sir!”

The Earl only laughed harder. Sophia quietly told her husband she would find some female company and leave him to his uncle’s amusement. “He is old and unwell, therefore his behaviour can be excused,” she assured him.

Darcy thanked her for her patience but did not regret her leaving. His own patience was thin. “Uncle, it was not necessary to offend my wife in such a manner.”

“Offend her! It was a compliment, Darcy, or has marriage soured what little sense of humour you possessed? Your beautiful wife understood me. She understands a lot, that one.” A sly wink punctuated his words. “I don’t need to tell you that, I wager. Your eyes haven’t left her figure since she walked away.” Lord Matlock laughed again, until a fit of coughing threatened to overwhelm him. When he regained his breath he went on as if there had been no interruption. “Hah! She’s got you where she wants you, Darcy. No sense in wasting pity on you. I can see how the situation lies.”

“You are mistaken.”

His uncle shook his head in amusement. “Darcy, I made a promise before your father died, to keep an eye on you. I know your habits. I must compliment you on your choice of establishments! It cost me a fair sum just to confirm your custom.” He chuckled at the dark expression gathering on the younger man’s face. “I suspect Sophia learned a thing or two from her late husband as you’ve not been back since your marriage. Oh, don’t get so prickly about it! It’s just an old man’s jealousy speaking. If I’d been half as satisfied my heir would have a larger fortune. Hah!”

“I would rather you elaborate no further,” said Darcy in a tight voice. “If you will excuse me –.”

“No, Darcy. There is another matter I wish to discuss with you.” The Earl frowned. Sighing impatiently, his nephew waited. “This woman, this Miss Bennet. Who is she, really? Richard is evasive but he did say that you know as much about her as anyone and could answer my questions.”

The possible directions these questions would lead made Darcy uneasy. “Whatever you wish to know is quite straightforward, sir. Miss Bennet is the daughter of a country gentleman of little means who passed away not long ago. Although she brings no wealth to the match she is perfectly respectable and worthy of Fitzwilliam. He will be happy.”

“Good God, Darcy, I’m not concerned with his happiness! He may find that anywhere, as we all do. She’s pretty enough and that will no doubt keep him amused for a while but what about her lack of connections? He gains nothing in marrying her.”

“With all due respect, sir, Fitzwilliam did not find a suitable lady when he was not free to marry where he liked. Now that he is, I do not understand your reluctance to grant him at least this much license.”

The Earl was visibly surprised by Darcy’s reply. “You could have married where you liked at any time.”

“I could not.” Darcy struggled to keep his gaze steady upon his uncle.

After a moment of silent study, Lord Matlock quietly said, “You have a colder heart than I ever imagined.” His hand made a dismissive gesture. “You may go now.”

Darcy experienced no reluctance in leaving his uncle behind. He bowed respectfully and walked away, his mind occupied with wondering if Sophia had always thought him as cold as the Earl’s accusation had pronounced.

Lord Matlock watched his nephew’s progress until he was distracted by the laughter of Mrs. Bennet. His head turned to find her in the crowd, a slight frown marking his brow. There was something distinctly familiar about the lady but its significance escaped him.

He waved for a glass of brandy and waited for another set of toadying dandies to come begging for his patronage.

Sophia found her husband leaning on the terrace rail, staring out over the gardens. “Fitzwilliam, are you not coming back in for the formal announcement?”

He turned to face her, his mind returning from some distance. “I confess I lost track of the time. The conversation with my uncle was disturbing.”

“You must not let his words upset you,” she said, daring to touch his cheek.

“His opinion of me... I didn’t realise how much my outward appearance disguised my true feelings.” Darcy took hold of her hands and brought them to his lips. “I made every effort to guard myself against revealing any weakness. I know my emotions are strong and would expose me to ridicule, but I had no idea how successful I was until now.”

“What did he say?”

“Oh, I care not what his opinion of me may be but the echo of your sentiments is what pains me. My heart is not unaffected. It has never been unreachable by anyone but perhaps myself. Can you forgive me for leading you to believe I was so cold and indifferent, immune even to your gentle, loving attention?”

She didn’t know what to say in such a public setting. Her smile must have conveyed what was in her heart, however, for she saw the relief in his eyes. “Let us go inside. Your cousin needs our support for his public declaration this evening.”

Darcy nodded and followed her into the house, then boldly led her to the front of the room as Fitzwilliam was preparing to introduce Elizabeth. The Earl and Lady Matlock stood to one side, the picture of unity. Unable to look at them without feeling contempt and pity, Darcy let his eyes wander over the assembled guests who stood nearby. He drew Sophia close, protectively, as if shielding her from his uncle’s penetrating stare. He heard not one word of his cousin’s pretty speech for all the interest he formerly felt in their relationship. The reaction of their peers was his primary concern. This was what Elizabeth would face without the support of the one man who could make it all easy for her. If the Earl would only accept what he could not change instead of seeking entertainment at her expense, all resistance to her humble origins would be erased.

Not one person stepped forward when Fitzwilliam fell silent. Darcy frowned. He felt a pressure on his arm and looked at his wife. Together they approached his cousin and Miss Bennet, Sophia offering a curtsey while Darcy bowed formally to the lady. He then held out his hand to Fitzwilliam.

Their exchange was cooler than at any other time in their friendship, yet the Viscount was not ungrateful for the endorsement Darcy’s actions represented. Several more guests quickly followed his example and it soon seemed that the congratulations would be endless. He and Elizabeth accepted the joyful wishes with all the enthusiasm of a young couple in love.

Darcy had little desire to stay any longer. The encounter with his uncle had soured his mood, the tension between himself and his cousin only emphasised the unpleasantness. The prospect of spending some quiet hours in the company of Sophia was very appealing. With this in mind, he consulted with his wife to gain her opinion and was delighted to discover that she was in agreement.

Just before the Darcys were to leave, Fitzwilliam sought out his cousin. “Darcy, I appreciate your gesture this evening. I realise it’s been an uncomfortable situation all around and I won’t pretend that my feelings have softened with regard to that... incident. You and Sophia appear to have worked out your differences at least.”

A wry smile did little to disguise Darcy’s feelings. “I truly regret causing the distress of so many. I sincerely wish you and Miss Bennet true happiness together.”

“Thank you.” Fitzwilliam shifted his feet restlessly. “I’m sorry I cannot grant you absolution as readily.”

Darcy nodded, accepting the inevitability of his cousin’s opinion. Then he noticed Elizabeth, who was now looking in their direction, too uneasy to come forward and speak with the Darcys personally. “Take care, Richard.”

Sophia took his arm and together they left the ballroom.

An imperial summons was what Darcy called it when the missive arrived from his uncle the next morning, commanding an appearance in the Earl’s presence as soon as possible. Darcy could not imagine what they could have to discuss after the previous evening’s disagreement.

“I know all about it,” the elder man said when his nephew entered the room. “You cannot expect me to believe you have no objection to Richard’s alliance with this family now.”

A few moments to walk the length of the room, take up a cup of tea and then Darcy sat down in a chair across from Lord Matlock. “I have not the privilege of understanding you. To what do you expect me to object?”

“Why, her family, of course! The disgraceful situation is not to be tolerated! Yes, I thought the mother looked familiar. Even her laugh, although only slightly more refined, is similar. How could you allow your cousin to marry such a woman!” The Earl’s hands were shaking with anger.

Darcy frowned, slightly confused. “I know of nothing objectionable about Miss Bennet. Tell me what you have learned so that I may contradict it for it must be false.”

“Oh, there is nothing untrue in this!” cried the other man. “You must have known about her younger sister. What have you to say about that?”

“Her younger sister? She has three, sir, two of whom were here last night. Which one do you mean?”

“The one they call Liddy.”

“Lydia? The youngest,” Darcy confirmed. “Very unfortunate, indeed, but I fail to see how that should affect Fitzwilliam’s decision to marry Miss Elizabeth.”

“So you did know! By God, Darcy, you kept that one close! Don’t tell me you partook of her favours as well? That would be choice! Uncle and nephew; what a coup for her!”

Darcy paled. “What are you saying?”

“Do I have to spell it out? This marriage will not be allowed to take place. I will not see my heir wed to the sister of a common prost –.!”

“Hardly common, sir,” interrupted Darcy in a cold voice, “if she had the privilege of your company. I would venture to add that it is best you keep that knowledge to yourself. Your son knows nothing of Miss Lydia’s history and neither do any of her family, with the exception of her late father, perhaps, and her uncle. I doubt that either of those gentlemen would have repeated the information to disturb delicate female sensibilities.” He added in a far more warning tone, “I would not like to see my aunt’s life turned upside down over this, either.”

“She has never been unaware of my other interests,” the Earl dismissively said.

“That is no reason to rub her nose in it,” Darcy sharply reminded him. “Have a little compassion, at least!”

Grumbling, Lord Matlock chose to pursue his original subject. “I take it you have no intention of saving your cousin from this gross error he’s about to commit?”

Darcy’s chin tilted higher. “With all due respect, I see no error in Fitzwilliam’s plans. This conversation is at an end.” He stood and bowed, stiffly and formally, then made his exit.

If Fitzwilliam was surprised by his father’s sudden lack of interest in his marriage plans he said nothing about it. In fact, so caught up in courtship was the Viscount that he had little time to devote to his many other concerns. Elizabeth attempted to remind him, once or twice, gently hinting that she was not going to disappear and that others required his attention, too. He would laugh at his own dereliction, thank her for the reminder and declare that he could not have chosen a finer lady to complement him.

“With you by my side, dear Elizabeth, I shall perform my office without a misstep.”

The confidence he expressed amused her. “I expect you to learn from your mistakes, my Lord,” she impertinently replied. “I cannot be following you everywhere to ensure you do not get into trouble.”

“I consider myself forewarned,” Fitzwilliam said with an equally impudent manner. He was tempted to kiss her, seeing as he was about to commit himself to several hours of confinement with the correspondence he had been avoiding, and promptly leaned forward to press his lips to hers.

A moment later Elizabeth was alone in the room, eyes closed and a smile denoting her lingering delight in the exchange. When she heard the door open she did not bother to look. Her smile grew wider and a teasing remark was on the tip of her tongue before she heard an unexpected voice.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I understood Fitzwilliam to be in here.”

Elizabeth’s eyes flew open to see Darcy in the doorway, undeniably uncomfortable and embarrassed. She quickly stood, giving a hurried curtsey which only seemed to make him more uneasy. Suddenly realising that she hadn’t spoken, Elizabeth said, “He is attending to some letters which are long overdue, Mr. Darcy. I’m afraid he won’t be free for some time.” Belatedly she thought it might have been better to keep that information to herself for she did not know what to expect from the gentleman before her. He was obviously avoiding her gaze but still he hadn’t moved.

At last he looked up. “Miss Bennet, I regret this intrusion on your solitude. Yet at the risk of causing further offense I beg you to allow me this opportunity to offer you my sincere apologies for my disrespectful and insulting behaviour toward you. I neither expect nor wish for your forgiveness. I want only to make clear that I acknowledge the vile nature of my actions and how deserving I am of your censure. I shall never subject you or any other to such a scene again.”

“Mr. Darcy,” she said after a brief silence. “I do not quite understand you. You say you do not wish me to forgive you?”

Disconcerted, he sought to clarify himself. “I meant... that is, I do not feel that I deserve your forgiveness, Miss Bennet. My honour demands that I apologise.” Darcy shook his head, frustrated with his stilted explanations. Impatient with himself, he met her eyes with the most abject expression Elizabeth had ever seen on his face. “My behaviour was deplorable. I truly want to apologise but please believe that I do not take forgiveness for granted.”

Softly, Elizabeth began her reply, “I accept your apology, sir, and...” She paused, knowing that this man’s great pride would not welcome her forgiveness so easily. “If you would allow me to offer you a small piece of advice, may I suggest you adopt a philosophy of mine? Think only of the past as its remembrance brings you pleasure. Such uncomfortable recollections can only make your life unbearable.”

A rueful smile touched his lips. “Your ever present cheerfulness and lively spirit is now explained, Miss Bennet. I can only envy you that ability.”

Elizabeth frowned slightly, saddened by the defeat evident in his words. Where was the strong and arrogant Mr. Darcy in the man who stood before her? “Surely you could make the effort, sir. It is not so very difficult.”

Unexpectedly, he let out a quiet laugh. “I recall a conversation we had at Netherfield where you called my resentment implacable. In this instance, Miss Bennet, it is myself I cannot forgive for the offenses I have committed.”

“I am disturbed to hear that, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth with feeling. “I fear your punishment will be disproportionate to the crime.”

“Your compassion is admirable considering the treatment you and your family have received at my hands.” Darcy drew a deep breath but said nothing more. His feet shuffled quietly on the carpet.

Once again Elizabeth felt concern for his uncharacteristic spirit. “I feel I must now ask for forgiveness, Mr. Darcy. You came to see your cousin, not me. Is there something I may relate to him when he returns?”

He appeared to consider her offer, then said, “I came only to inform him that I shall be taking Georgiana to Derbyshire at the end of the week. She has expressed a desire to leave London for a while.”

Elizabeth nodded in understanding. “Richard informed me that her engagement to Mr. Bingley has been broken. I hope Miss Darcy will not long be distressed.”

“She is, perhaps, less fortunate than I in that regard,” Darcy quietly replied, then made as if to change the subject. “It was best for all concerned. As Fitzwilliam shares with me the role of guardian I felt he should be informed of our plans to return to Pemberley, personally rather than by note. He may have some questions.”

“But he is not here,” pointed out Elizabeth. “If he has any questions he will, no doubt, send them in a letter.” Her smile was teasing but he did not seem to notice.

“You are right, of course. Perhaps I should return later.” Darcy seemed doubtful on this, however.

Elizabeth retreated to a respectful silence.

“If I may ask that you inform him of our intended departure and that I have no particular date planned for our return, I would be in your debt, Miss Bennet.”

It appeared to Elizabeth that he was impatient to be away. She could not blame him, thinking it must be very awkward to meet her like this, in the home of his cousin and not so very long since he had openly declared his unresolved feelings for her. “Mr. Darcy,” she began with the intention of putting him more at ease. “It would be my pleasure to relate whatever you wish him to hear.”

Darcy considered her meaning, wondering if she was perhaps enquiring if he objected to any disclosure of the other subject they had discussed. “You may feel free to repeat any part of our conversation, Miss Bennet.” He gave a short bow. “Thank you for your audience but I must return home now. I am sorry to have missed Fitzwilliam although the pleasure of your company is more than recompense.”

Elizabeth moved forward to see him out but he stayed her with a single word.

“Please.” With another bow he bid her farewell and left.

Darcy felt the need for air to help clear his head after the unexpected encounter with Miss Bennet, and sent the coach on ahead. He had been ill prepared to deliver his apology despite the number of times he’d rehearsed it in his mind. The opportunity could not be wasted, however, for there was no way to predict when another might arise.

As he walked, he mulled over the advice she had offered and reflected that there was little in their past encounters that she was likely to recall with any fondness, thus she might possibly forget him entirely were it not for their familial connection which was soon to form. In spite of his own painful memories, there remained a warm recollection of their dance at Netherfield and several lively discussions in Kent before his impetuous proposal.

In short, Darcy considered her advice well given and felt assured that he could follow it insofar as Miss Bennet was concerned. It was important to put those memories in their place for they would be meeting occasionally at family events if nowhere else.

There were other unpleasant instances that could not yet be retired. Most were too recent and the other people involved were still suffering. Bingley, perhaps, would not wait long to renew his acquaintance with Miss Bennet. Georgiana, having initiated the dissolution of their agreement, derived no comfort from the realisation of her decision. She had become withdrawn, much as she had after Wickham had taken advantage of her innocent heart several years before. Time and distance would not be sufficient for healing as it was after Ramsgate.

Darcy paused in his stride and frowned. Had it been sufficient then? Considering his recent discussions with Sophia, and her estimation of Georgiana’s state of mind, was his protection of her after that incident more hindrance than help? He shook his head and continued walking. It was time to reveal all of his sister’s misfortunes to Sophia. She would understand far better than himself where he had gone wrong and how to ease Georgiana’s current anguish. How he wished he’d had the benefit of his wife’s counsel at that time!

His thoughts had so consumed his attention that Darcy almost walked past his own house. Only a voice calling his name brought back awareness of his surroundings. Sophia was at the open window, watching him in puzzlement.

“Fitzwilliam, did you lose your way?” she softly called. Her answer was an embarrassed smile. “Do come in and join us. The children are with me and your son is in fine fettle this afternoon.”

Darcy needed no more incentive to draw him in.

Viscount Rowsley stood silently enjoying the sight of his lady, her back to him as she gazed out the window. It was a picture he hoped to see many times in the coming years.

“Would that we were already married, my dear Elizabeth,” he said, crossing the room as she turned at the sound of his voice. “I would carry you up to your chambers at once and reward you for the temptation you present.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened at his candid expression. “Richard! Your mother may have been in here. You did not even look around the room, did you?” She laughed as his face flushed deeply.

“I am so sorry, my dear! I should not have spoken to you in that manner, regardless.” He appeared very disturbed by his lapse in propriety which only made Elizabeth’s smile grow. “Has the Countess not come to see you yet?”

“She has not but did send a servant to convey her regrets. It appears that the Earl required her presence.”

“Ah, yes. It seems that he had a bad spell last night.” Fitzwilliam expressed no further concern in that matter. “I regret that you were left alone for so long.”

“I was not alone the entire time. Your cousin was here briefly.” Detecting a note of tension behind his easy facade, Elizabeth stepped closer, seeking to wrap her arm about his.

Fitzwilliam gave her hand a pat where it rested on his wrist. “Poor Georgiana. With all of your sisters I’m sure you have heard such troubles many times and were able to offer her the comfort she needs right now.”

“It was not Miss Darcy but her brother,” explained Elizabeth in a quiet voice. She felt him stiffen beside her and spoke more quickly. “He came to see you but –.”

“Found you instead! Oh, Elizabeth, I wish you had sent for me. You should not have been forced to face him alone.” The Viscount wrapped his arms about her, perhaps to ease his own distress as much as hers. “I cannot believe his arrogance, to come here and intimidate you, especially after having made so public his approval of our union!”

“I was not intimidated in the least. It was not his intention, Richard.” She looked up into his face, willing him to see forgiveness in hers. “He apologised, most profusely, for everything he has said and done.”

“And you forgave him.”

The bitterness in his voice surprised her. “I forgave him for his conduct that evening in the library and not many hours after it had occurred, but I did not say that today. Richard, I know you are disappointed in your cousin’s behaviour and I am sure it injured you, but I do not understand why you seem to feel so deeply about it. Have I not convinced you that his regard means nothing to me?”

Fitzwilliam’s arms tightened around her. “My discomfiture where Darcy is concerned is of many years’ duration. The man has always been able to do as he pleases, buy what he wants, go where he likes. I did not have that luxury, not until my brother died. Now I have all the power and freedom at my disposal but the only thing I ever really wanted was you, Elizabeth. Having Darcy’s shadow hanging over us is disturbing to say the least.”

“Oh, my dearest Richard,” sighed Elizabeth. “What can I do to set your mind at ease?” Mindful of his comment upon entering the room, she placed her hands on each side of his face and brought it down so that she could kiss him soundly.

Fitzwilliam, shocked but not unhappily so, ensured that the job was thorough.

Epilogue

With Georgiana’s removal to Derbyshire he had taken the brunt of reaction to the news of their broken engagement. That was how he wanted it, though. She deserved to be spared the ugliest scenes society would present. Soon enough there was new gossip to distract and only a few remembered to cast a wary eye in his direction at social events.

“Mr. Bingley!”

The cry came from a group of matrons stationed in one of the best vantage points of the ballroom. Bingley attempted to match the voice to one of the faces when the call was repeated.

“Ah, Mrs. Thwaite,” he said, bowing once he drew near. “Good evening, ladies.” He nodded respectfully to the rest.

“Mr. Bingley,” began Mrs. Thwaite. “I was just saying how delightful it is to see you out again. I do hope you will be dancing this evening. A lovely partner can do wonders for a broken heart.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Thwaite,” Bingley politely replied. He considered the lady’s motivation, something he would never have done a few years earlier, and recalled that she had two daughters available. One was a debutante of the Season just past while the other had spent her third unspoken for. “I assure you that my heart is just fine and as for dancing, I do have a mind to participate this evening.”

An excited chorus of voices greeted his announcement. Bingley bowed again and left them to their speculations.

The music and dancing was inviting and he had deprived himself of enjoyment for longer than originally planned. He wished only to find an unassuming young lady for his first dance of the evening, preferably someone he knew and perhaps was already attached. After that he might choose a partner from amongst the hopefuls, with less danger to himself.

A familiar face did present itself, much to Bingley’s surprise. He hurried through the crowd to catch her before she disappeared from sight.

“Lady Rowsley.” He spoke a trifle too loudly for fear of not being heard above the music.

She turned and smiled. “What is this formality, Mr. Bingley? You know I just as easily answer to Mrs. Fitzwilliam and particularly to friends.”

He could see she was laughing at him. “I had not the privilege of addressing you by that name yet as we have not met since last summer.” He added with a hint of amusement, “Mrs. Fitzwilliam.”

She offered him her hand which he accepted and placed a respectful kiss upon the back.

“Mrs. Fitzwilliam,” he said again by way of introducing his intention, “would you by chance honour me with a dance this evening? Perhaps the next if you are free?”

“Alas, Mr. Bingley,” she cheerfully answered. “I am forced to disappoint you. I am not in any state to dance.”

Bingley followed her hand’s gesture and understood the reason for her refusal. “Ah, congratulations are in order for you and his Lordship, I see! Forgive my failure to observe the change in circumstance.”

“It is not so readily noticeable at present so there is no need for apology, sir.” Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled. “Perhaps I could suggest another partner for you? My sister has accompanied us this evening.”

His interest was keenly aroused with that information. “Miss Bennet?” he asked, then further elaborated. “Miss Jane Bennet?”

“She is currently dancing with my husband.”

Bingley’s eyes quickly sought them out in the couples assembled. “She is beautiful this evening,” he quietly pronounced, more to himself than to his companion.

Elizabeth was satisfied and watched with delight as Richard led Jane toward them when the dance concluded. Her sister’s face was flushed with excitement but when she beheld the gentleman awaiting her return her cheeks burned brighter.

“Miss Bennet,” managed Bingley, bowing low to spare her his staring.

“Mr. Bingley.” Jane’s voice was barely audible and one glance at Elizabeth confirmed the hope that flared within her.

“Bingley!” Fitzwilliam welcomed the young man warmly. “It has been a long time. Forgive my impetuous manners but has my lovely wife told you our news?”

“Yes,” laughed the other man. “Yes, she has but only after I had asked her to dance. You left her all unguarded in the middle of a ballroom. How could I not come to her rescue?”

“Rescue?” The Viscount looked about suspiciously. “Had you been imposed upon, my dearest?”

“Imposed upon! Certainly not.” His wife gave an indulgent chuckle. “Mr. Bingley merely refers to his knowledge of my preference for dancing rather than standing about stupidly.” She noticed that the next dance had already begun and it was now too late for Bingley and Jane to join it. A full half hour might pass before their next opportunity. “Jane, I feel a great thirst. Shall we find ourselves the refreshment table?”

“Ladies, let me get you some punch. Please,” Bingley entreated.

Elizabeth accepted while Jane bowed her head shyly.

“I shall go with you,” said Fitzwilliam. When they had left the ladies far enough behind he said, “I am glad of the chance to tell you that Georgiana is well. We saw her when she visited Matlock last month.”

A relieved sigh issued from Bingley’s lips. “That is good news. She left town in such low spirits. I was afraid she might continue so.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out between you. You are a good man, Bingley. I’m not sure Georgiana will ever.... but that is neither here nor there.” They had reached the refreshment table and Fitzwilliam picked up two glasses.

Bingley looked down at the glasses he held. “Did she happen to mention our godson.. how Edwin is doing?”

“Oh, yes!” grinned the Viscount. “That blasted Darcy pride was evident in every word, too. The little fellow should be talking soon from what she told me.” He noted the change in his friend’s mood, saying, “You are welcome at Pemberley anytime, you know.”

Bingley shook his head. “I have not spoken to Darcy since before he left town last year. Nor have we written.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.” At Bingley’s look of surprise, Fitzwilliam went on. “My friendship with my cousin is not what it once was, either. It pains me to continue in this way but it is for the best. Besides, my new responsibilities take up most of my time and leave little for idle socialising. At least, that’s my excuse.” He grinned ruefully. “Edwin is your godchild, however. No one would criticise you for taking an active interest in his well being.”

“Are they expected in London for the Season?”

“No,” Fitzwilliam carefully replied. “Of course, you would not have heard. Georgiana was at Matlock as Sophia was nearing her confinement. She has probably delivered by now, although I have yet to hear anything of it. That should keep them at Pemberley this year, I think.”

“I did not know another child was expected. I hope all went well.” Bingley turned away to make his return to the ladies. “No doubt you will hear from Georgiana with the details.” He did not hear the other man’s reply as Jane now came into his view and his attention was fully taken up with admiring her.

The ladies gratefully accepted the punch, naturally falling into conversation again. Soon thereafter, Fitzwilliam drew his wife aside. “Did I look so besotted when I first met you?”

“When you met me? No,” smiled Elizabeth. “You never appeared besotted, Richard, not even now when I know you are.”

“Is that supposed to comfort me?” Laughter lingered in his eyes.

His wife spoke even more softly. “Mr. Bingley’s interest in Jane began long ago. I would be very happy to see it finally come to fruition.”

Fitzwilliam stared at her in amazement. “That sounds like matchmaking, Elizabeth! I would never have believed it of you.”

“If all goes well this evening I will relate the whole story to you, Richard. From the beginning.” Smugly, she watched her blushing sister being led to the dance floor by a very pleased looking Charles Bingley.

To any other the late winter landscape could look harsh but to Fitzwilliam Darcy there was nothing more magnificent to behold. As he stood at the window that overlooked the expanse of Pemberley’s grounds he stood tall, shoulders drawn back proudly.

Master of all I survey.

His mouth twitched in amusement. A cry sounded from somewhere above, changing his smile to one of warmth and satisfaction.

Another Darcy has entered the world this day. I never thought anything could make me feel more proud than Pemberley itself but I was wrong.

He inhaled deeply, turning from the window and straightening his jacket. “Come, Robert,” Darcy called to the boy playing with toy soldiers on the floor by the fire. “It is time to go upstairs.” He was eager to see his wife and know if it was a new son or daughter that had been added to their family.

The nursemaid took Robert’s hand when Darcy and the child appeared outside the chamber of Lady Sophia. She nodded briefly to the Master, acknowledging that he was to go inside.

The door opened silently on well oiled hinges. Nevertheless, Sophia looked up as her husband entered the room. His entire expression softened upon seeing her.

“You are well?” There was anxiousness in his words.

“Tired but well.” Her gaze dropped to the face of the infant cradled in her arm. “What name for your son, Fitzwilliam?”

Darcy’s eyes shone brighter. “My son... Our son, Sophia.” He leaned closer to whisper in her ear, his lips touching her cheek in a gentle kiss.

She smiled, relaxing against the pillows. “I look forward to tomorrow, then.”

“Sleep now,” he said, brushing one hand across her brow. He saw her eyes close and could then turn his attention more closely to the babe. As with Edwin, there was no mistaking his parentage. Darcy lifted the infant into his own arms, careful to keep the blanket secure around the tiny form, and held him close to his chest. Glancing back toward the bed, he noted Sophia’s peaceful state.

Yes, I may be Master of all that is Pemberley but my heart... my heart has a Mistress who has shown me what it is to really love.

The End