“We’ll pray for your safe journey,” Mr. Joseph said. He and his wife and child had come downstairs to say another farewell to the Darcys.
“Thank you.” Darcy helped Elizabeth with her cloak. He banked his irritation: They were getting a later start than he wanted. Elizabeth and Mrs. Joseph had said their good-byes three times previously. “Mr.Washington has assured me that the roads are passable.”
“Most of the other guests have departed.” Mr. Joseph smiled at the two women. “You may need to carry Mrs. Darcy to your carriage.”
Darcy watched his wife caress the child’s cheek again. “Women and babies,” he said with a wry chuckle. “We men cannot always understand the attraction.”
“I have a better grasp now that I’ve held my son.”
Darcy sighed. “I pray for the same pleasure.”
“In the spring, Mr. Darcy. My Mary believes it to be so.” He extended his hand in parting. “Mary and I owe our child’s life to you and Mrs. Darcy. Young William will know of the Darcys of Pemberley.”
Elizabeth caressed the child’s dark hair and then bent to kiss the baby’s forehead. “Babies always smell like a cloud,” she said softly before sniffing again.
“Not always.” Mrs. Joseph laughed as she took the child from Elizabeth’s arms. “Dirty baby cloths, you know.”
Elizabeth laughed softly. “Thunderclouds.”
Mrs. Joseph’s eyes sparkled in delight. “One way to look at it.” Companionable silence returned. “I’ll never forget you, Elizabeth Darcy. My William shall learn of the woman who calmly escorted him into the world. If there is ever anything the Josephs...” her voice trailed off. “All you must do is ask.”
Elizabeth took one last look at the boy. “Just extra prayers for my own child.”
“You’ll send me word of your safe delivery. Until then, my prayers will drown in your praise.”
“Come, Mrs. Darcy.” Her husband stepped behind her. “The winter days are short, and we wish to be at Pemberley by tomorrow.”
“Of course,” she replied. “It’s time.”
Mr. Joseph placed Elizabeth’s hand on his arm and led her from the room.
After watching her depart, Darcy impulsively turned and touched the child’s cheek. “You’ll send Mrs. Darcy news of young William.”
“Elizabeth shall know of my son’s many accomplishments.”
Darcy bowed to the lady. “I’m certain it will please my wife to learn of my namesake’s achievements.”
“And you, Mr. Darcy. Shall you celebrate William’s many firsts?”
Darcy gave her a knowing smile. “I celebrate anything that makes Mrs. Darcy happy.”
“Did you see much of battle, Lieutenant?” Mr. Grange asked. Grange and Mary had joined Southland, Anne, and Mrs. Jenkinson in a small drawing room. The ladies watched the gentlemen play chess. “It must be a grand adventure,” the young man added. “A chance to become a true hero.”
Roman sat quietly for a few moments. He stared intently at the board as if planning his next move, but instead he chose his words. “Despite my eagerness to serve my country and to protect the colonel, there were moments I regretted my decision to follow my commanding officer to America.” A long silence ensued. “The colonel would’ve allowed me to remain in England, to switch posts, but I’d have none of it. Like young Grange here, I thought of heroism.”
“But surely, even in the Americas, a man can find the glory of war,” Grange protested.
Roman touched his knight, but he did not move it. “There’s no glory in war, Mr. Grange.” The lieutenant sat back casually in his chair. “There’s fear and necessity and cowardice and the overwhelming need to survive, but there’s no glory.”
“You speak so harshly, Lieutenant,” Mary observed.
“I apologize if my tone offends, Miss Bennet. I did not mean for it to do so.”
Anne’s soft voice brought Roman from his darker thoughts. “And the colonel? Does my cousin express the same feelings regarding war?”
“A hero’s image is etched in Edward Fitzwilliam’s face. The colonel inspires his men with his own bravery. Your cousin, Miss De Bourgh, is not an officer hiding at the rear. He leads with his own resolve to correct the world’s wrongs.”
“I would expect nothing less from Edward. He was built to protect. Plus, he was the one who always accepted a dare. The Countess spent many sleepless nights nursing Edward’s injuries.”
Roman smiled wryly. “I cannot doubt it. The colonel is not one to withdraw. But he’s also not one to take foolish chances. Everything is calculated for success. If I were to have to face an enemy again, I would choose Colonel Fitzwilliam as my commanding officer.”
“That’s high praise indeed,” Mrs. Jenkinson challenged.
“And every word is true, Ma’am.The man you know as a cousin and an Earl’s son is a military genius.”
“Really?” Anne seemed surprised. “I’d expect Edward to be brave, but I had never thought of his tactical intellect.”
“Then it’s with pleasure that I share something of the man I admire.”
“Shall they be well?” Elizabeth asked as their carriage reached the main road and turned toward Derbyshire.
From the rear-facing seat, Darcy had watched the emotional turns of his wife’s countenance for over a half hour. The desire to stay with the Josephs and the desire to return to Pemberley had warred within her. “Mr. Joseph has assured me that he’d not allow his wife to travel until Boxing Day. They’ll spend Christmas at the inn. The man is cognizant of the fact that it’ll take more than two days to reach Newcastle with a newborn babe; therefore, he must reasonably arrange his family’s passage.”
“What of Mr. Joseph’s mother?”
“His future lies with Mrs. Joseph and young William. Joseph won’t risk their lives to say his farewells. As a clergyman, the man knows that honoring one’s parents doesn’t override ‘cling to her only’ in the marriage vows. He obviously cannot leave Harrogate today.”
Elizabeth nodded her agreement. “It’s too soon for Mary.”
“And they cannot travel on Christmas,” he added.
“Of course, I’d forgotten the implications of the religious celebration.”
Darcy removed his gloves and placed them beside him. “Joseph and I had several conversations about the proper thing to do.”
Elizabeth smiled easily. “In other words, Matthew Joseph asked for your counsel, and you explained the man’s family duty,” she teased.
Darcy’s eyebrow rose. “Would you expect anything less of me?”
“My husband, I’ve never misjudged your consequence.”
“As opposed to my finer qualities,” he countered.
Elizabeth chuckled lightly. “It was part of my grand plan, Mr. Darcy. A man only wants what he cannot have.”
“Ah, now I see,” he said sagely. “Your flirtation with Mr. Wickham was only to pique my interest — as was your denial of your cousin’s proposal. Therefore, it only follows that your constant disdain was to prove that I didn’t understand what I most needed.”
Elizabeth’s eyes misted with tears. “I never meant to cause you pain, Fitzwilliam.”
Immediately, Darcy switched seats. Taking Elizabeth into his arms, he said, “And I never meant to criticize.You must realize I no longer care about the past. It was what it was. As long as we have found each other, nothing else matters.”
Elizabeth wiped away the tears. “I don’t know what came over me. I was enjoying our conversation, and then I thought of the utter pain displayed on your face when I refused you at Hunsford. I did you such a disservice.”
“Could you not instead imagine my countenance at your eventual acceptance?” he teased. With his thumbs, Darcy flicked the tears from her cheeks before kissing her nose’s tip.
Elizabeth swallowed a sob with a giggle. “It would be pleasanter.” She shrugged her shoulders in good-natured self-chastisement. “Of late, I’ve been a watering pot over the most insignificant things.”
“Perhaps the baby,” he said gravely.
“Perhaps.”
Darcy shifted her in his arms. “Perhaps if I share what I did for the Josephs, it’ll bring a smile to those luscious lips.” Unable to resist her, Darcy bent his head for a taste.
Elizabeth stroked his chin line. “Tell me,” she said in a rasp.
Darcy first had to bring his breathing under control before he said, “I secured the room and board until Boxing Day, paid Mrs. Washington for the ruined linens, and left a small gift for William for Christmas Day.”
“How small?”
He removed one of her gloves and kissed her knuckles. “Ten pounds.”
Elizabeth smiled broadly. “You’re the most generous man,” she exclaimed. “Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”
“I also paid the innkeeper for extra blankets for Mr. Simpson and Jasper.”
“And extras for us, as well,” she observed.
Darcy kissed the inside of her wrist. “Yes, I worried for your lack of proper rest. Sleeping in the carriage isn’t ideal, but I wished to see to your comfort as much as possible.”
“Shall you join us, Edward?” Georgiana had discovered him in Darcy’s study. “We’ll take advantage of the ice you’ve seen fit to design.”
“It was all Southland’s doing,” he insisted. He sat back in the chair and smiled at her. “Has someone claimed your hand, Cousin? If not, I’ll seek your company.”
A powerful desire to rush into his arms took Georgiana by surprise. “I can think of nothing that I’d enjoy more. We gather in the main foyer on the half hour.”
Edward shot a quick glance at the mantel clock. “Perfect. The roads are clearing, and I’ve sent word to the Earl of my return, as well as having my report ready for my superiors. However, I’ve one more letter to address.”
“Anyone I know?” she asked teasingly, all the while praying that he didn’t correspond with another woman.
“Not unless you’re familiar with the Prince Regent’s inner circle.”
Georgiana experienced disappointment’s twinge. He hadn’t denied writing to another — perhaps a romantic liaison upon his return to town. Within his entourage, the Prince kept company with many beautiful women. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” With a quick curtsy, Georgiana quit the room.
Edward watched her go and wondered what he’d said that brought the frown to her forehead. “Maybe it’s something I didn’t say. A man’s always on tentative ground with a woman,” he said aloud.
Two things had brought him to Darcy’s study on this day. The first was his continued suspicion that Mr. Manneville wasn’t what he pretended to be. Edward had followed his superiors’ orders in escorting the man to England, but it made no sense that the British government would take an interest in this particular American. So, today he had written a newsy letter to Mercer Elphinstone’s stepmother and father. Admiral George Elphinstone, Viscount Keith, was a friend and distant relative of Edward’s father. He had announced his safe return to England and had mentioned Mr. Manneville. He just hoped that the Elphinstones were in residence in London rather than in Scotland. With luck, Lady Elphinstone would inform her stepdaughter of his letter and word would spread among those who attended the Prince — this simple letter could answer some nagging questions.
The other worrisome issue was his uncharacteristic response to Georgiana. Last evening, he’d dreamed of their waltz in this very study — waking totally befuddled by his reaction to her. “What would happen if I approached my cousin?” he wondered, not for the first time. “Would Georgiana accept me? Moreover, would Darcy allow it?” Edward tossed his letter onto the edge of the desk. “I’m an Earl’s son and have my own fortune,” he argued with an imaginary opponent.
“But you are twelve years her senior.”
“That’s not unusual in marriages among our class.”
“Georgiana doesn’t know her heart. She has had no worldly experience.”
“You know I’ll protect her with my life. Nothing will harm her again. You can trust Georgiana with me.”
Would Darcy entrust him with Georgiana’s future? His cousin would have no fear of her husband ever learning of her foolish attempt at an elopement with George Wickham at age fifteen. Edward already knew of how Darcy had unexpectedly joined Georgiana a day or two before the intended elopement and had foiled Wickham’s plans. She could enjoy her future rather than live in the past. Georgiana’s affectionate heart could grow under his tutelage.
“First, allow me to see if I can win the lady’s promise before I consider facing her brother, a task I may not survive. Perhaps another year on the American front might be less dangerous.” Edward laughed as he stood and reached for the letter. “‘Battle-scarred’ may describe my domestic interactions instead of my military ones.”
Her husband had expected Elizabeth to sleep, but it was he who nodded off. Elizabeth watched as his head rocked gently back and forth with the coach’s sway. Darcy was a magnificent man, handsome and fit, but more importantly, he was a kind and generous person. He had raised Georgiana, had assumed the responsibility of Pemberley, had protected her family even when he’d thought she and he had no future, and he had loved her enough to set aside his former prejudices to give them a chance to find happiness.
First checking Darcy’s sleep again, Elizabeth reached for her reticule. She’d awakened this morning to find another of Darcy’s letters beside her pillow. With the Josephs in the room, she had had no opportunity to read her husband’s words, and had quickly stuffed the missive into her bag. Now, Elizabeth removed it and broke the wax seal. Unfolding it, she adjusted her seat so she could use the afternoon’s sunlight streaming through the coach’s window. With a deep, contented sigh, she began to read.
As they often did when she read his letters, her tears returned, but they were happy tears. By some miracle, she had earned this man’s love and devotion. Instinctively, her fingers lightly massaged her stomach’s swell. Darcy’s child grew within her, and she could think of nothing as precious as the possibilities. She’d soon hold their child. No longer did she doubt that fact.
Noting Darcy’s stirring, Elizabeth quickly dashed away her tears and returned the letter to her bag. It would join the others in her portmanteau to be savored in private moments over and over again.
“Did you sleep?” Darcy asked as he righted his clothing.
“Not yet. I’m too excited about returning home — returning to Pemberley.When shall we arrive?”
Darcy glanced out the coach’s window at the melting landscape. “With no obstacles, midafternoon tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Do you suppose that Georgiana has hung the holly and has addressed the decorations for the Tenants’ Ball?”
Darcy’s eyes flashed in amusement. “You’ve tutored my sister, and she’ll perform to your expectations; but even if Georgiana were not to address her duties, Mrs. Reynolds would see to the task.”
“I forget how dispensable I am as Pemberley’s mistress,” Elizabeth said wryly.
“Your value lies not in the day-to-day running of the estate, Elizabeth. I could hire someone to do that.You’re Pemberley’s heart and soul — as was my mother.”
Tears misted her eyes — watering pot, again, she thought. Darcy had given her the ultimate compliment: He’d compared her influence on Pemberley to that of Lady Anne Darcy. “Thank you, Fitzwilliam,” she murmured. She focused on the changes in Darcy’s countenance from the expression of concern to that of love. “Then we’ll arrive in time for services.”
“Yes, Sweetheart. In plenty of time, as long as you’re not too tired.”
“As Pemberley’s mistress, I must appear at church. People would judge the Darcy name poorly if I shirked my duties.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Your resolve is admirable, but you’ll make your health a priority,” he ordered.
“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” she said contritely. Elizabeth knew she’d attend the services despite what her husband had just said, and her husband knew that as well. They wouldn’t fight over it. It would just happen. Darcy would grumble, especially if Elizabeth appeared travel worn, but he’d allow her to attend Mr. Winkler’s Christmas services. During Mrs. Joseph’s delivery, Elizabeth had thought long and hard on what Mary Joseph had called “Fate.” Elizabeth had never considered the role of fate and prayer. She believed in God’s existence, but not His hand in her daily life.Yet, Mary, a clergyman’s wife, seemed so assured of God’s choices. “Have you thought of God’s role in our earlier losses, Fitzwilliam?” she said softly.
Darcy shifted uncomfortably on the bench seat. “We’ve never spoken of our personal beliefs, have we? I mean, of our thoughts about God’s presence.”
“I don’t know how I can think on it,” Elizabeth admitted. “How can I consider that God in His infinite wisdom chose for us to remain childless? If so, then that means we have been unworthy in His estimation, and as I know your goodness, my husband, it must be I who’s been unworthy.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, do not speak as such. God will see us as parents in due time.”
His voice’s emptiness didn’t escape Elizabeth’s notice. “I want to hear Mr. Winkler’s sermon on the Christ child’s birth. It’s important to me, Fitzwilliam. It’s important to witness God’s hand at work.”
“Were you able to find what you needed in the attic trunk?” Georgiana asked Kitty as they gathered in the foyer. Everyone had donned winter wear.
“I did. Thank you for your generosity.”
“What did you seek, Kitten?” Mr. Bennet asked from beside his daughter.
Kitty’s expression foretold her pleasure in sharing. “Something special for the Foxmour family.”
Mr. Winkler joined them. “What of the Foxmours?”
Georgiana noted the man’s new possessiveness with Kitty. “A simple day dress — one discarded after my time at Ramsgate.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyebrow rose in curiosity. “Surely Miss Darcy’s dress has nothing to do with her brother’s tenant.”
Kitty blushed, but she said, “The Foxmour children drew the perfect dress for their grandmother. I took one of Miss Darcy’s former dresses and with Hannah’s and Meg’s help, I added lace and a bit of embroidery. Then I had Thomas deliver it to the Foxmours. I thought the lady could wear it for all eternity.”
“Miss Catherine, that is all kindness, but the Foxmours aren’t used to such finery,” Winkler warned.
“Thorne, please trust me,” Kitty whispered. To her father, she said, “I chose a plain dark blue day dress — one from Miss Darcy’s schoolroom days. I cut away the beads and trim and added bits of lace to the neckline and cuffs. It’s no longer a dress a fine lady might wear. It is one in which a household’s matriarch might meet God.”
Mr. Bennet squeezed Kitty’s hand. “You were always most clever with a needle. I am certain that you’ve done the Foxmours a great honor.”
“I just wanted Nell and Mavis and Tavia to see their creation come to life. Life, even in Death.” She turned again to Winkler, needing his approval. “Was I so wrong?”
His countenance softened immediately. “No. No, you were the most generous of God’s creatures in this matter.”
“Now that that’s settled,” Georgiana observed, “we should join the others at the pond.”
“Am I forgiven?” Kitty whispered as she accepted Winkler’s arm.
“There’s nothing to forgive, my dear. A man of God couldn’t find fault with a compassionate soul, and as I’m inclined to favor you above all others, I am content simply to have you at my side.”
“Please don’t placate me, Thorne. I must understand where the objection lies. I only wanted to make the girls happy,” she puzzled.
Winkler cupped her hand with his free one. “You will,” he said softly. After a brief pause, he added, “It’s a fine balance a person must walk. One cannot simply rush in to save the world. Instead, a man must extend his hand while not stealing another man’s dignity in the same instance.”
“Did I steal Mr. Foxmour’s worth?” she asked in concern.
Winkler smiled lovingly. “Absolutely not. You gave from the heart.You’re exactly the type of person this community needs — the type of person I need, Catherine.” He allowed the others to outdistance them. “If I were to offer a caution, it would be to remind you that you cannot place one of Mr. Darcy’s cottagers above the others without causing your brother in marriage additional difficulties. Mr. Darcy often must settle disputes between his tenants. If he would rule with Foxmour over another, it would seem that he did so to please his wife’s sister.”
“But Mr. Darcy would never do anything so dishonorable,” Kitty protested.
“I agree, but when a man loses a contested dispute, he often blames others for his failure,” Winkler countered.
Kitty blushed. “I was foolish, was I not? All I wished to do was please you — to prove myself worthy of your attentions.”
Winkler leaned closer to speak to her alone. “I was vain enough to realize that fact when you confessed your secret.” He squeezed her hand. “And you do please me, Catherine, more than you realize.”
“Do I, Thorne? Do I truly?”
Winkler laughed lightly. “Are you searching for compliments, my dear?”
Kitty started to argue but quickly switched to a flirtatious attitude. “I shouldn’t have to seek compliments if I’m of a pleasing nature.You should shower me with them without my prompting.”
Winkler barked a laugh. “You’re too precious. You’ll bring life to my household.”
“I’m happy you decided to join us.” Mr. Bennet escorted his wife toward the pond.
Mrs. Bennet clung tightly to her husband’s arm. “It’s a great sacrifice to spend time in the cold, but a mother must chaperone her children.”
“Jane and Mr. Bingley might serve as chaperones for Mary and Kitty if you should wish to return to Pemberley’s warmth,” he said in that teasing manner in which he’d always spoken to her. Actually, he’d once favored the woman. Captivated by youth and beauty and that appearance of good humor, which youth and beauty generally give, he had fallen for the woman immediately, but early in their marriage, respect, esteem, and confidence had vanished forever, and all his views of domestic happiness were overthrown. But he was not of a disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment which his own imprudence had brought on in any of those pleasures which too often console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice. He was fond of the country and of books, and from these tastes had arisen his principal enjoyments. To his wife he was very little indebted than as her folly had contributed to his amusement. Mr. Bennet readily realized this was not the sort of happiness which a man would in general wish to owe to his wife, but he had often told himself, “Where other powers of entertainment are wanting the true philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.”
“Dearest Jane is all that’s good, but she could easily be called away to tend the twins. Besides, a mother’s care cannot be lessened by convenience.”
“My only care is your own health. Heaven forbid that you should precede me in death,” he said in a taunt. “You cannot expect me to seek husbands for our girls with the same diligence that you demonstrate.”
Ignoring his tone, as she was apt to do, Mrs. Bennet whispered, “I wish Mr. Manneville had sought Kitty’s company again today. I fear she has done the man a disservice, and he’ll not forgive her.”
Mr. Bennet mockingly said, “You find Mr. Manneville the superior choice, my dear?”
“The man has deep pockets, Mr. Bennet,” she reasoned.
“In America,” he reminded her.
Mrs. Bennet shrugged off his objections. “Kitty could have a house as grand as Netherfield Park. Would you not want that for your daughter, Mr. Bennet?”
“I would want Kitty in a relationship in which her husband respected her.” He thought again of his own marriage’s failure. “Jane and Elizabeth have achieved such happiness, and I have hopes for Mary.”
“And of Lydia?” Mrs. Bennet cared best for their youngest daughter.
“You know my opinion of Mr. Wickham,” he warned. “I’ll never understand how Wickham and Lydia can be supported in tolerable independence nor how little of permanent happiness can belong to a couple who were only brought together because their passions were stronger than their virtue.”
“Mr. Bennet,” she exclaimed a little too loudly and had to moderate her objection. “You should not speak so despairingly of your own child.”
“I speak the truth,” he contended. “I won’t give elegance to misfortune.”
Again, Mrs. Bennet disregarded his severity. “And you think this Mr. Winkler a better choice for Kitty?” she asked as she observed how the clergyman leaned closer to say something private to their daughter.
“First, it’s true Winkler will never have the wealth of Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley, but he has a secure situation under Mr. Darcy’s watchful eye. Second, observe how the man protects our Kitty. He’s quite besotted by our daughter’s charms.”
Mrs. Bennet directed her attention to Kitty and the clergyman. “Do you believe Kitty returns the man’s regard?”
“Not totally, but the seed’s been planted. It was Winkler that Kitty chased from the drawing room last evening. It was he that she tried to please with her gift to Mr. Darcy’s cottager. He inspires the best in our daughter.” They walked on in silence for a few moments. “Surely, you remember how foolish Kitty and Lydia once were. I often considered them as two of the silliest girls in England. Now that Kitty, to her material advantage, has spent the chief of her time with her two elder sisters, her improvement has been great. I always said that Kitty had not so ungovernable a temper as Lydia, and removed from the influence of Lydia’s example, she has become, by proper attention and management, less irritable, less ignorant, and less insipid. I find myself quite proud of the young lady that Kitty has become.”
He watched as Mrs. Bennet frowned when he disparaged Lydia’s good sense, but she didn’t argue. They’d had similar conversations on numerous occasions. “Should I encourage the connection? Should Kitty be made aware of Mr. Winkler’s attention? It would please me to have all my girls well settled.”
“If you can suppress your enthusiasm until after Mr. Darcy’s return, I suspect that Mr.Winkler will take matters into his own hands. Elizabeth’s husband will have to give his approval to his clergyman taking a wife and having that wife be Kitty,” he cautioned.
Mrs. Bennet glanced around for privacy. “Would Mr. Darcy object to Lizzy’s sister living at the Lambton cottage? Would the man’s pride deny Kitty a proper marriage?” she asked incredulously.
“I doubt it. However, Mr. Darcy may need to preface their joining. Winkler must be aware that Darcy would prefer to be consulted prior to the clergyman approaching Kitty with an offer.” They neared the pond. “And if Elizabeth’s husband does object, you could always steer Kitty into Mr. Manneville’s arms. Who knows? After my demise, when Mr. Collins takes Longbourn, you might discover yourself in the Southern states. I think you’ll find yourself swept away by an American.” Mr. Bennet winked at her.
“You bam me as you always do. I have no need of another husband. With five daughters, I shall spend my days in contentment, knowing I have done my best by each of them.” She accepted a seat on a wooden bench to which Mr. Bennet directed her. When he started away to join the couples, Mrs. Bennet caught his arm. “Mr. Bennet, I know we’re often at odds over our daughters, but would you do me the courtesy of explaining your dislike for Mr. Manneville?”
It was rare when they spoke honestly to each other — even rarer when he felt empathy for the woman he’d married. “I cannot pretend to know exactly,” he said softly. “Maybe it’s the man’s posturing. Maybe it’s his blatant declaration of his intentions — his descriptions of his wealth. Or…” Mr. Bennet turned to watch Manneville glide onto the ice. “Or maybe it’s his attention to Miss Bingley. The woman hurt my Jane, and not once did she apologize or show any contrition. I do not forget.”
“Neither do I, Mr. Bennet. Neither do I.”