Fitzwilliam Darcy silently fumed as he oversaw the afternoon meal. Mrs. Reynolds had informed him of Lord Stafford’s request for a tray for himself and Miss Donnel. Darcy understood the man’s concern, but he did not relish the idea of pretending a disinterested calm before the rest of his guests. It was bad enough that in addition to the viscount and his mistress, three others had witnessed what was evidently an attempt to cause someone real harm. Between the recent disappearances, Georgiana’s nighttime “visitor,” and now this staged trap, Darcy’s nerves strained for control.
“I came down thirty minutes earlier,” Mr.Worth bemoaned missing the incident.“I took no note of anything unusual at that time.”
Mrs. Williams sipped her soup. “I pray Miss Donnel suffers no continuing injury.”
“My housekeeper reports that the lady has a badly bruised ankle and a sizable bump on the back of her head, but Miss Donnel should recover quickly,” Darcy assured everyone.
Georgiana offered, “I think it admirable that His Lordship sees to his cousin personally. I imagine that Edward would be as attentive for Anne or me.”
Darcy noted Elizabeth’s questioning stare, but he ignored her silent demand for answers. “Lord Stafford does seem most concerned. The family is suffering with the illness of a loved one, compounded by the inconvenience of being stranded by the storm.”
“I still say the man affects his cousin,” Lady Catherine remarked to no one in particular.
“It should be none of our concern,” Anne said evenly.
The fact that his cousin offered an opinion of any kind caught Darcy off guard. He had no time to intercept his aunt’s response. “One could hardly help but take notice,” Lady Catherine snarled. “And who are you to correct me? Since when do you censure me—your mother—the woman who suffered to bring you into the world?”
“And what a lovely world it is, Mother!” Anne stood suddenly, throwing her napkin on the table. “If you will excuse me, Fitzwilliam,” she mumbled as she rushed from the room.
“Well, I never!” Lady Catherine began.
However, Darcy cut her remarks short.“I am sure,Aunt, that my cousin meant no harm. It could have been Anne or Mrs. Jenkinson or Mrs. Williams or Mrs. Wickham lying in that bed right now or even worse. Anne is sensitive; I beg you not to dwell on her unintended aspersion.”
His aunt said grudgingly, “I suppose, Darcy.
Elizabeth caught Darcy’s eye. “Maybe Mrs. Jenkinson might see to Miss de Bourgh.”
“That is an excellent idea, Elizabeth. Mrs. Jenkinson, please send us a report on Anne’s recovery when you deem her settled.”
“Certainly, Mr. Darcy. Thank you, sir.” The lady gave Elizabeth a quick nod of gratitude and followed Anne to their adjoining quarters.
“Anne,” the older woman called as she came through their connected dressing rooms,“are you well?” Anne lay prostrate across her bed, clutching a lace handkerchief in her left hand—her shoulders shaking with muffled sobs. Mildred Jenkinson sat on the edge of the bed, lightly stroking Anne de Bourgh’s back. “Oh, Anne, my darling girl. I hate having you so distraught.”
Sniffles and sobs escaped as Anne buried her face into the pillow. “I cannot go back there!” she wailed.“I simply cannot return to Rosings.” She sat up suddenly to look at the only friend she had ever had. “If I return to Kent, I must accept never having any freedom until my mother leaves this earthly world. I cannot bear it, Mildred.”
Mrs. Jenkinson slid her arm around Anne’s shoulder. “We will think of something. Maybe Mr. Darcy can convince Lady Catherine to soften her reproaches.” Mildred rarely spoke honestly about what she observed in the de Bourgh household, but she knew that Anne would not chastise her for speaking aloud what they both thought. “Or perhaps the Darcys might extend an invitation for you to remain at Pemberley when Her Ladyship returns to Kent.”
Anne grasped at this hope. “Oh, Mildred, do you believe that possible? Even though Lieutenant Harwood may not be here, it would be heavenly to simply have the peace that Pemberley provides. I could learn to play the pianoforte at last. I have always wanted to play.”
“I know, my Girl.” Mildred tightened her embrace.
Anne closed her eyes as if picturing a different future. “And I could take a long walk if I chose or read a novel by Mrs. Radcliffe or paint a picture.There would be no one to say ‘She is quite a little creature’ or anyone to remark that I might become quite accomplished if I applied myself.” Anne sighed.
Mildred hesitated. “I must offer you a caution: Even Mr. Darcy may choose to accept Lady Catherine’s dominion over you.”
Anne refused to give up on her dreams. She wiped the tears from her face. “Help me to freshen myself. I must speak to my cousin immediately. If Fitzwilliam refuses to help, then I need to know before this storm lessens. I must have all my options present.” She rushed to her dressing room and poured fresh water in the bowl. Taking a folded cloth from the stack on the dressing table, Anne dipped it in the water and wrung it out. Dabbing at her eyes, she looked at herself in the mirror. “I hate the way my lids swell when I cry.” She pressed the cool cloth to her eyes and held it there. It was as if she washed away her troubles. “You will come with me, Mildred, when I speak to Mr. Darcy.”
“I am sure the gentleman would prefer not to discuss familial relationships in my presence.” Mildred watched Anne’s demeanor. She had noted the subtle difference in Georgiana Darcy now that she was under Mrs. Darcy’s care. She would like to see Anne earn some confidence of her own.
Anne came to kneel before her companion. “Oh, Mildred, you must come with me. I would not be able to approach Fitzwilliam without your support.” She took the older woman’s hand and brought it to her cheek. “You are my only true friend; you know my deepest secrets.”
Mildred Jenkinson stood, bringing Anne to her feet also.“Come, my Girl.You know I can never deny you.”
Forty-five minutes later, they sat with Darcy in his study. Mrs. Jenkinson appreciated the kindness that Mr. Darcy showed as he listened carefully to Anne’s plea for asylum. He made no commitment, saying that he would need to speak to Mrs. Darcy and to the Fitzwilliam faction of the family before he chose to involve them in what would likely be another tiff with Lady Catherine.
He questioned Anne regarding Lieutenant Harwood, specifically asking whether the man offered marriage and asking about anything else she might know of him. “It cheered me to know the good colonel was the one who introduced you to Harwood. I trust Edward’s opinion of a man’s character.” Darcy spoke the truth—he did trust his cousin’s judgment. But he also paid Harwood an indirect compliment to gain Anne’s confidence. Attacking the man had gotten Lady Catherine nowhere.
“You would like the lieutenant, Fitzwilliam. One finds the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper. He is just what a young man ought to be: sensible, good-humored, lively, and I never saw such happy manners!—so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!”
“Then Harwood is of family?” Darcy still wanted to know more of the man than his cousin’s idealized opinions.The fact that Harwood had met Anne privately at an inn bothered Darcy.Theoretically, the man compromised his naïve cousin; he chose to learn more of the man because Anne needed protecting.
“The lieutenant is a second son; his brother Rowland will inherit. Robert has two sisters—one still at home and the other married to another officer in the service.”
Darcy steepled his fingers, deep in contemplation. “I see.” He paused before he added, “Anne, I am concerned, and I intend to learn more about the lieutenant. I want you to understand that I do so out of affection for you and not out of some mean spiritedness.”
Anne glanced at Mrs. Jenkinson, who sat obediently in the corner, pretending not to hear. “Mrs. Jenkinson will speak to my conduct, Fitzwilliam. I would wish that you feel free to ask her anything, and I release her to be completely truthful regarding what she knows of me and of the lieutenant.”
Again, Darcy weighed his words carefully. “I do not believe that necessary at this time, but I may consider it as the situation develops.”
“Thank you, Cousin, for listening to me.” She prepared to stand, but he motioned for her to remain.
“Might you tell me what you know of Miss Donnel’s accident?” He sat forward, interested in her account.
“I am unsure of what you speak, Fitzwilliam.”
“Simply tell me the chronological order of the events. Did you see anyone else about? Did Miss Donnel seem aware of what awaited her?” Darcy could not shake the feeling that as Miss Donnel made her living as an actress, the accident held more questions than answers.
“Mrs. Wickham and Miss Donnel were in the hallway when I left our quarters and joined them. When Mrs. Williams opened her door, Mrs. Darcy’s sister and I turned to greet her, but Miss Donnel continued. She came from the opposite direction toward the main staircase.
Impulsively, Darcy’s attention now fell upon his cousin’s companion, a woman to whom he had rarely spoken over the years unless during a game of casino or quadrille. He knew something of the woman’s respectability. Mildred Jenkinson had come to Rosings after losing both her husband and her child in a typhoid epidemic that hit her village in Oxfordshire some fifteen years earlier. A traveling carnival and a group of gypsies had reportedly spread typhoid to three communities in the midlands that summer before the disease was contained. Having traveled extensively with her husband, who served in a diplomatic position, the lady had the disposition and the qualifications to serve as his cousin’s companion. Anne turned to the woman for affection, and the woman protected Anne from Lady Catherine’s frequent censure as best she could. “Mrs. Jenkinson, you were in the hall when I helped His Lordship. Did you observe anything unusual?”
Brought to the center of attention, at first Mildred stammered. “I-I was a few sec-seconds behind Miss de Bourgh, sir, as I returned to her quarters for a shawl. Lady Catherine is most mindful of cold drafts.” It was the woman’s way of saying that Her Ladyship could be demanding, and she simply tried to anticipate her employer’s idiosyncrasies. “There was a man in Pemberley attire blocking the way, and when I could not reach her, I feared for Anne’s safety.” Mrs. Jenkinson paused before telling Mr. Darcy the rest. She was still a servant, even though she shared Anne’s confidences, and she preferred not to report poor service. Mildred did not wish to see the man lose his position.“I hesitate, Mr. Darcy, to criticize this man’s conduct.”
“Was a member of my staff unpleasant, madam? If so, I wish to be informed,” he insisted.
Mildred rose and came closer to the desk, where she might speak without being overheard from the hall. “The man blocked the way, and when I tried to move around him, he refused to budge. I was most anxious to assure myself of Miss de Bourgh’s safety, and I spoke harshly to him, demanding that he move. At that point he told me to beware and called me an old woman.”
“Why did you not tell me, Mildred?” Anne reached out to take her companion’s hand.
“It was really nothing.” She looked away in embarrassment. “The thing was, Mr. Darcy—it was not so much his words, but the pure animosity found in his countenance.”
“Would you recognize him again?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Then I will ask Mr. Baldwin to gather the male staff. If you will indulge me and identify the man, I would wish to speak to him about his rudeness to a guest.” Darcy thought the man’s actions suspicious.
“As you wish, Mr. Darcy.”
An hour later, Darcy summoned Mildred Jenkinson to the downstairs ballroom. Several rows of men and boys stood awaiting her appearance. “Is this everyone, Mr. Baldwin?”
“It is, Mr. Darcy.” He bowed respectfully.“I checked off everyone against my household records.All the men are accounted for, sir, except young Lawson, who rode out with Mr. Steventon to check on the sheep.The boy wishes to apprentice with the steward.”
“How long have they been away?” Darcy wanted the lady to examine the entire staff.
“I believe, sir, that they left at first light. I let the boy go because Mr. Steventon seems to like Lawson’s company.”
Darcy bit down his frustration. “I understand.” He would need to see the lad separately when the footman had returned from his outside duties. “Mr. Baldwin, have each man walk toward us and then return to his duties.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”The man moved off to deliver his instructions.
Placing the woman’s hand on his arm for support, Darcy stood beside Mrs. Jenkinson. “As each man passes, observe him carefully. Once you have noted your unknown opponent, you may tell me then. I will make no comment until we have seen them all. In fact, I will wait until you have returned home before I address the man, so as to remove the blame from you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
Then the procession started. One by one, the men walked past them, and Mildred purposely made eye contact, but after looking at all thirty, she found no one who resembled the man she had seen in the private hallway. “I apologize, Mr. Darcy, but it was none of these men.”
“Yet the man you saw wore the Darcy livery?” They were the only ones left in the expansive room.
“It was the same, sir, as what your men wore today. The man I encountered was near your age and several inches shorter. He had a muscular build and what would have been a pleasant-looking face if he had not been so angry. He had dark, wavy hair, and a square jaw. He spoke fiercely and then moved away to the private family rooms.”
“He entered my family’s quarters?” Incredulity played through his voice.
“I did not see him enter the rooms, but he walked in that direction, and the hall ends with those rooms.”
The situation dumbfounded Darcy. “I want to find this unknown man, Mrs. Jenkinson. At the moment, you are the only person who has seen him.Will you help me identify him?”
She recognized Mr. Darcy’s protective nature: She had observed it on more than one occasion when he dealt with Miss Darcy and even with her beloved Anne.“Of course, Mr. Darcy-—anything, sir.”
From behind the gold-trimmed door leading to the linen closet, James Withey watched. Each of the men employed by Fitzwilliam Darcy as part of the household staff paraded by the opening, which was only an inch or two—but large enough for him to see all he needed to see: the old woman from earlier in the day exited the room on Darcy’s arm. He did not know her—had not expected to confront her as he had made a timely exit. He had taken a chance with the string—wanted to see if it could possibly help him eliminate his target. However, he would need to be more careful in the future. He could not afford for anyone else to see him.
Yet he thought it quite amusing, really, how Fitzwilliam Darcy had always portrayed himself as the kindly master, the man who treated his staff as family. Today, James had walked among that family, and no one recognized him. Even more detrimental for the Darcys, no one had questioned his right to be in the house—to move through the private quarters. James had held conversations with many of them in the execution of his duties. He had even flirted with a chambermaid named Lucinda—Lucy, as she preferred to be called. He might even enjoy himself by partaking of her charms, but not tonight.Tonight he would simply watch and learn. He fancied that he knew the Darcys, but he had not anticipated the others being guests at Pemberley. The storm had driven in the riff-raff; however, they would not keep him from his task.
Adam Lawrence had not joined the rest of Darcy’s houseguests the previous evening. Fleetingly, Darcy had thought to discuss the unknown intruder with the viscount, thinking to solicit Lawrence’s help in apprehending the culprit who had set up yesterday’s accident. Then Lord Stafford ignored Darcy’s request that he and Miss Donnel not let the rest of Pemberley’s guests know of their relationship by staying in the lady’s room all night. Darcy had been forced to instruct Mr. Baldwin to quash any gossip by the household staff and had agreed aloud with Mrs.Williams and Mr.Worth when they praised the viscount’s concern for his cousin. Inside, Darcy seethed with anger at His Lordship’s impetuous actions.
So when the viscount entered the morning room, Darcy fought his natural instinct to chastise the man for his poor choices.
“How is Miss Donnel’s injury?” Elizabeth asked when Lawrence joined the others at the breakfast table.
“My cousin is healing nicely; thank you for your concern, Mrs. Darcy. Please convey my respect to your staff for their tender care of Cathleen’s injuries. I suspect that by this time tomorrow, she will be able to join us for some of the day.” Lawrence speared one of the kippers that he had piled on his plate.
“That is pleasant to hear.” Darcy motioned for a footman to refill Elizabeth’s cup of chocolate. Of late, it seemed to be her morning favorite, and he readily indulged her.
Elizabeth’s eyebrow shot up when the footman approached. “Fitzwilliam,” she said affectionately from across the table, “Lydia and I thought that we might take advantage of the weather. Do you suppose that Mr. Steventon might bring the sleds out of storage? We could use the hill leading to the orchard.”
Darcy had no desire to participate in winter sledding; he had estate business with which to deal, in addition to a “phantom” employee to locate, but he could not deny Elizabeth, and he knew his duty as a host. “That is an excellent idea, my Dear. I will make arrangements after we break our fast. I hope that everyone will join us.” He directed his last comments to the entire table.
“Oh, that sounds entertaining, Mr. Darcy, but I am unsure that a woman of my age—” Mrs. Jenkinson began.
“Mildred, you must,” Anne interrupted.
Mr. Worth took up the cause. On the first evening, he had sat beside Mrs. Jenkinson during the musical entertainment. They had enjoyed a pleasant conversation, which he would not mind resuming. “You will not let these young folks,” he gestured to Lydia and Georgiana, “have all the fun, will you? You may traverse the hill with me.”
His attention caused Mildred Jenkinson to blush. “Thank you, Mr.Worth.” She dropped her eyes in embarrassment.
“You will come, too, will you not,Your Lordship?” Lydia coyly flirted with the viscount.
“I should remain with my cousin,” he insisted.
Elizabeth took the lead. “Please indulge us, Your Lordship. We are greatly lacking in males.” She indicated the abundance of women at the table.“There are only the three of you, and we could use your expertise on the hill. I will ask Betanne to sit with Miss Donnel if you can see your way clear to join us.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Darcy, I will call on Cathleen first and then make my decision.”
While the others prepared for the outdoor activities, Elizabeth followed Darcy to his study. “I apologize, Fitzwilliam, for taking you from your work.” She stood in the doorway, waiting for him to acknowledge her. “I should have asked you prior to announcing my plans for the day.”
Darcy came forward to catch her hand and bring her into the room. “Did you think me angry with you?” He brought her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles.
“You, my Husband, were angry with someone at that table.” She winked. “I have not slept in your arms every night for more than a year without taking note of the nuances of your personality.” Elizabeth and Darcy knew each other well, often communicating without words.
Darcy smiled mockingly down at her. “Since when are you so perceptive, my Love?”
Elizabeth’s hands fisted on her hips.“Do not change the subject, Fitzwilliam.”
He kissed her upturned nose. “Yes, Mrs. Darcy.”
“Yes, what, Fitzwilliam?”
“Yes, I was angry.” A sigh of exasperation escaped his lips.
“And?”
Darcy pulled her into his embrace.“Would you rather not spend time in my arms than talking?” He nuzzled behind her ear.
She moved even closer to him. “This is not fair, Fitzwilliam,” she protested while sliding her arms around his neck. “You know how you affect me.”
“I know how you affect me, Mrs. Darcy,” he murmured into her hair as his hands began to search her body. “I wish to never be without you in my life.”
With a shaky exhalation, she whispered, “I love you, my Husband, even when you refuse to answer my questions.”
Darcy took her mouth fully, just to satisfy his constant need for her. When he finally raised his head, he rasped, “I suppose I will have to tell you, or you will kiss it out of me.”
“If that is what it takes, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth leaned into him. “I would willingly sacrifice my lips for the truth.”
Her taunt made him chuckle. “It would be no sacrifice on my part, my Love.” Darcy kissed her again, only more tenderly this time.
Elizabeth’s breathing became shallow. “We have our best conversations in each other’s arms, but I insist on knowing what is going on. Has it something to do with Miss Donnel’s accident?”
Darcy’s thoughts went to the missing items, and to the Pemberley staffer who had spoken so disrespectfully to Mrs. Jenkinson and likely set up the trap on the stairs. Addressing those issues with Elizabeth created a conflict for him. He felt a need to keep unpleasantness away from her. Finally, he said,“I found it inappropriate for Lord Stafford to spend the evening in Miss Donnel’s room.”
Elizabeth ran her fingertips through Darcy’s hair.“Well, the lady is his cousin.”
Darcy reluctantly released her and led Elizabeth to a nearby settee. “Miss Donnel is not His Lordship’s cousin; she is his mistress. I insisted when Lord Stafford accepted our hospitality that he and Miss Donnel keep their relationship secret. I tried to shield you and Georgiana and the others.”
This revelation surprised her. “I see. I am all astonishment, my Husband, that you would tolerate such a situation.”
“It was not to my liking, but His Lordship is an acquaintance of Edward’s older brother, and I could not send the viscount out on the road with the ice and snow. I would have no man’s death on my conscience—or the death of his mistress.” Darcy paused, debating whether to share his concerns. “I understand His Lordship’s concern for his mistress, while disapproving of his actions. He discovered a piece of hemp strung across the top step—high enough to catch the foot of the person who descended the stairway first. Miss Donnel’s fall was likely no accident.”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam, please say it is not so.” She took his hand in hers. “Do we have any idea who may be at fault?”
“I wanted to speak to Lord Stafford yesterday evening, but he remained with Miss Donnel.” Again he paused, and he filtered out what he did not wish to share with his wife. “Mrs. Jenkinson accosted a man dressed in Darcy livery in the hallway to the private quarters. I asked her to view each of our male staff members, but she could not or would not identify the man.”
Elizabeth leaned forward to assure more privacy. “Why would the lady not wish to label the man?”
“I do not suspect coercion,” Darcy confided. “Mrs. Jenkinson has served Anne faithfully for years, and has been my cousin’s closest confidante. I simply believe that Mrs. Jenkinson is, first and foremost, a servant. I fear the lady might not wish to be responsible for another servant meeting my wrath or possibly losing his position.”
“So you think that she might purposely not identify the culprit.”
Darcy frowned, never liking anything out of the ordinary in his life. “At this point, I am unsure what to believe. If I take Miss Donnel’s accident and combine it with all the other unexplained incidents of late, I am at my wit’s end.”
“Should we not share our concerns with the others?”
“Share what exactly?” Darcy stood to pace the room. “All we have are suspicions—a phantom footman or worker and some missing items. I would not wish to tarnish Pemberley’s reputation by spreading rumors of a disgruntled employee.”
Elizabeth watched him closely; she knew Darcy thought best when he was on the move. “Then we simply become more observant.”
“At the moment, I think that best.”
An hour later, the Pemberley party gathered on the south lawn. Darcy assigned two footmen to help. Each of the three male guests took on the duties of escorting the ladies down the hill. Elizabeth rode with Darcy, and so did his cousin Anne. Mr. Worth squired Mrs.Williams and Mrs. Jenkinson. The fact that Lord Stafford took Georgiana by the arm caused Darcy to bristle, but Elizabeth pulled him to one side, assuring him that the man’s innocent attention would bolster Georgiana’s confidence. The viscount knew Darcy’s’s expectations, Elizabeth explained. And as a gentleman, she continued, His Lordship would not offend Georgiana’s sensibilities. Darcy also felt some qualms about his sister sharing the sled with Lydia Wickham. He did not wish to remind Georgiana of George Wickham’s betrayal, but again Elizabeth saw the advantage of the situation. “Georgiana must face her mistakes and grow from them,” she told him. Reluctantly, he saw the logic in what his wife said, but that did not make it any easier to accept.
Repeatedly, the gentlemen climbed the slopes, tugging the sleds behind them. The footmen helped the ladies settle onto the wooden runners. For Adam Lawrence, the innocence of Georgiana Darcy fascinated him. Some man would eventually earn her love and her devotion and be a very lucky man. He could have done without the clinging Mrs. Wickham. The woman wrapped herself around him when they sped down the hill. He enjoyed physically peeling her fingers from his arm and waist.
Mr. Worth respectfully accompanied the two older women. He found Mrs. Jenkinson charming, for although the woman had earlier declared herself too old to participate in the winter fun, she embraced the experience with an unexpected enthusiasm: She shrieked and giggled like a girl enjoying her first outing. Mrs.Williams, obviously more frightened than Mrs. Jenkinson, closed her eyes tightly and said a prayer as the sled hurtled toward the flat land.
Darcy placed Elizabeth in front of him, spooning her body with his and allowing her to help him steer the sled. He nuzzled her neck while he pulled the ropes to turn the sled as it zoomed to the bottom of the hill. Elizabeth screeched her delight, leaning into him and plastering her back to his chest. “That was magnificent, Fitzwilliam!” she squealed as she scrambled to her feet.
He brushed the snow from her. “Indeed, it was.” He caught her hand to lead her to the top of the slope again. “Are you ready, Cousin?” he asked as he set the sled for his next descent.
“I have not done anything like this since we were children, Fitzwilliam,” she confessed.
“It is time you lived again, Anne.”
She hesitated for only a moment and then seated herself behind him on the slick wood. “I am ready, Fitzwilliam, to be that girl again.”
“Then hold tight, Cousin. I mean to give you the ride of your life.” The footman gave the sled a mighty shove, and they were off, the trees a blur as they sped by them. Darcy listened for Anne’s scream, but it never came. Instead, she sang a note of joy—laughter exploding from her. He found that he liked the sound. If Lieutenant Harwood had given Anne the courage to laugh again, the man had earned a measure of Darcy’s respect.
When he helped her from the snow bank, along which they had skidded to a stop, Darcy leaned down to tell her,“You should laugh more, Cousin:You are beautiful when you do.”
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam. Today, surprisingly, I feel beautiful.”
Once, two sleds raced to the bottom. Darcy and Elizabeth won, just barely edging out the viscount and Georgiana. “That was so close,” Stafford asserted. “If it had been my servants helping to shove off instead of yours, Darcy, I believe the results might have been different.”
Darcy laughed heartily. “Maybe so, Stafford—maybe so.”
As the men returned to the hill, Elizabeth and Georgiana waited for Mrs.Williams and Mr.Worth to reach them.“Is this not great fun?” Elizabeth called as Worth helped the widow to dismount the wooden sled.
“Great fun!” he yelled back genially.“It has been too long since I have done anything so impetuous.”
Mrs.Williams motioned him on.“I wish to speak to Mrs. Darcy a moment.”
Worth turned to the hill and the climb once more.
“Mrs. Darcy,” the woman said as she caught Elizabeth’s arm. “I have a problem.” She glanced around to assure their privacy. “My petticoat, ma’am.The bottom of it has come loose. I caught it on the runner’s edge. I cannot go about with a lace ruffle hanging below my skirt. Do you have a suggestion? Should I return to the house?”
Elizabeth glanced down at the offending garment.“Is it just the lace ruffle?”
“I believe so.”
“Can you simply pull it free?
“I do not see why not.”
“Then how about the storage shed? No one will notice, and you can slip in there and free the ruffle before it becomes entirely unraveled.”
“I would be mortified if that happened.”
Elizabeth motioned to Georgiana to precede her on the climb. “Do you need my assistance?”
The woman glanced toward the small outbuilding. “As long as the door is unlocked, I can manage. If you go with me, it will bring more notice. Just tell Mr. Worth that I needed to catch my breath for a moment; he will not worry so much then.”
“I will do just that.”
Thirty minutes later, they all gathered at the bottom of the slope, shivering, but none of them willing to give up the camaraderie. When Elizabeth scooped up a handful of snow and struck Darcy on the shoulder with it, a melee broke out. Soft snowballs struck them all as a mist of snow filled the air, a splatter of white on a brown and green background. “Enough!” Elizabeth ordered as Darcy picked her up by the waist, threatening to dump her in a snow bank.
Deep baritone laughter and soft soprano giggles indicated everyone’s enjoyment. Lydia Wickham suggested a snowman. Again, teams formed, and they rolled small snowballs over and over, the frozen spheres collecting volume and becoming crude circular masses.
Bases fully formed, the men sat about stacking the globes one on top of another, while the women began to search for branches and nuts to use for decoration.
“Mildred, what are you doing?” Anne said as she came sauntering over.
After breaking an icicle from an overhead branch, the older woman began to suck on the frozen stick.“Have you never enjoyed an ice treat, Miss Anne?”
“Of course, she has,” Darcy called as he straightened from lifting the mass to the second level. “Only my cousin prefers her icicles flavored.”
Georgiana bubbled, “I love flavored ice, too. May we add some flavors, Fitzwilliam?”
Always one to indulge his sister, Darcy sent Lucas to ask Mrs. Jennings to send out some oils of cinnamon and clove and licorice. When the footman returned with the oils, he also brought a small bowl of crushed walnuts and some plum preserves and some loose sugar. Everyone gathered around the tray the man held, each with his own tasty icicle.
“Try this.” Darcy placed two drops of licorice on Elizabeth’s frosty rod.
She let the licorice roll down the short stick, turning it to leave a trail of intense flavor in the ice before placing the coldness to her tongue. “Mmm!” she said in approval.
“This is delicious.” Mildred Jenkinson followed Anne’s lead and spread plum preserves on the side of her frosty rod.
“I knew that you would love it,” Anne teased her companion.
“Here are a few smaller ones,” Mrs. Williams handed out the ones she had gathered.
“This one has sugar already on it.”
“Yes, I thought to use the sugar, but I can fix another one.”
“Are you certain?”
“Oh, my heavens, yes. One or two of these are more than enough for me,” the widow shared.“I prefer my treats warm, in fact.”
“Hot tea sounds heavenly right now,” Lydia declared.
Adam Lawrence slapped his hands to shake off the snow.“Let us finish this snowman and then get everyone inside.”
With a renewed effort, the men lifted and supported the three stacking globes as Elizabeth, Anne, Lydia, and Georgiana smoothed and shaped their creation. However, Mrs.Williams helped Mrs. Jenkinson to indulge in one more frozen treat before Lucas returned the flavorings to the house.
Georgiana found a branch with five pointed twigs to represent the snowman’s fingers. “I think I am as cold as you, sir,” she said to the snowman as she shoved the branch into the side of the middle ball.
“Why do you not return to the house?” Darcy suggested.
“No, I would like to stay, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered.“I want to be a part of the group.”
He argued, “But you could ask Mrs. Jennings to prepare hot cider for everyone.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand in a tender warning to listen to his sister and not exert his will over her each time.
Georgiana swallowed uncomfortably, her throat working up and down, but she stood her ground. “Please, Fitzwilliam. It is important to me.”
Darcy bit back the words, trying to trust Elizabeth—they had on more than one occasion discussed his tendency to be overprotective of his sister. He had served as Georgiana’s guardian for the past seven years—after their father’s passing. He was as much father as brother. “Very well, my Dear,” he whispered softly.
Lydia interrupted, “Well, I will ask Mrs. Jennings for the hot cider.” She made her way to the house.
“What do you think?” Anne asked the group.They all turned to look at their snowy embodiment of a man.
“He looks formidable.” Mr. Worth shook the snow from his coat. A chorus of agreement followed.
“I suggest we partake of hot cider.” Darcy ushered everyone toward the house.
Anne caught Mildred around the waist.The woman still sucked on a flavored ice. “Thank you for coming out with me today. I felt young and hopeful. I know that sound ridiculous, but I have spent a lifetime nearly empty of feelings.This was all new to me.”
“You, my Girl, must never return to being that person,” Mildred said. She spoke unusually candidly. “You are too precious to suffer so. It is not necessary for you to completely defy Her Ladyship, but do not let your mother define you. Be Anne de Bourgh in all her glory.”