Section I, Next Section

Prologue:

Posted on Sunday, 10 July 2005

"London, England October 10th, 18---

Dear Mr. Darcy,

My name is Thomas Brambles, Esquire, solicitor and executor of the estate of Lord Matthew Farthington. I write you to inform you of an inheritance left to you by Lord Farthington and to relate to you my employer's final request.

Lord Farthington, as a close friend of your father the late Mr. Darcy, with whom he made several charitable and business investments, has bequeathed to you in his death his property on the island of New Sussex in the Caribbean. The property encompasses the entire island of thirty square miles and is rich in farmland. As owner of the entire island, Lord Farthington decreed that New Sussex a free island and its remaining so is a condition of the inheritance. The farms are tended by tenants of freed blacks and whites and clear fifteen thousand pounds a year. The island is currently under the direction of Mr. Krimpton, a capable and trustworthy steward who has served Lord Farthington for over twenty years. I will provide papers formalizing the bequest should you accept and meet with you at a time you may set.

Lord Farthington has also made a final request of a more personal nature. A letter detailing his request is enclosed with this missive written by his own hand. As a loyal employee of Lord Farthington and as a friend I pledge to lend my services to aide you in whatever capacity is needed in order to grant his request.

Please write to me at your earliest convenience informing me of your decision.

Sincerely,

Thomas Brambles, Esq."

"Loland Manor, New Sussex May 15th, 18---

Dear Mr. Darcy,

If you are reading this letter, noble sir, than I have lost my battle with consumption. I write to you as a dear friend and colleague of your father. I held your father in the highest respect and esteem, and was honoured to be made your godfather upon your christening. His innate sense of justice and concern for his fellow man garnered him the admiration of his peers and made him as dear to my heart as any brother could be.

Your father was proud of you, and described you as a gentleman of deep conviction who held fast to the ideals of truth, honour, duty and fairness. It is to these ideals that I now make my plea for assistance.

My request regards a young woman to whom I have given my name and protection, Miss Mary Caroline Farthington. Miss Farthington came into my care and protection in infancy, after the passing of her mother, a most noble and respected woman who suffered greatly at the hands of the institution to which I have devoted my life to defeating. During the time in which I have served as her guardian, I have come to love and admire her as if she were my own flesh and blood. She is a remarkably educated and accomplished young woman, having received the best education I could afford her. She is fluent in Latin, French and German, knowledgeable of world affairs and English politics and laws, and well-versed in philosophy and history. She also takes great delight in literature and also possesses a talent for the English language. She is also artistically gifted; she paints and embroiders, plays the harp and pianoforte with both passion and skill, and sings beautifully.

While I have been able, I have protected and nurtured her as a most beloved daughter. In passing, my greatest fear is that she will be left unprotected at the tender age of 19.

I have left Miss Farthington a generous inheritance. She will have 5000 pounds a year - more than enough to ensure that she is well provided for -- and the family estate in Sussex will pass to her possession upon her twenty-first birthday. Were circumstances different, her inheritance and accomplishments would make her a most desirable match for a gentleman of consequence and ensure her protection. However, Miss Farthington is the daughter of a Negro slave whom I purchased to secure her freedom from a most brutal master in America. Her heritage places her in a most precarious position under English law and I dare not risk leaving her unprotected until she achieves the age of majority. She is without family or friends in England. It is my sincere request that you serve as Miss Farthington's guardian, extending to her the same protection and guidance I strove to offer her.

It would give me great comfort to know that my Mary will not be left so wholly unprotected once I depart from this life. Should you fulfill my request, both my undying gratitude and that of Miss Farthington are yours.

Sincerely,

Lord Matthew Farthington"

Chapter 1

Mary gazed anxiously out of the carriage window as the coach made its way along the lane to Pemberley, her new home. The dreary winter scene that passed before her did little to lighten her spirits. Silent trees with bare branches capped with snow filled brown meadows and dotted gently slopping hills. Mary shivered noticeably at the cold, her feet no longer heated by the now chilled warming bricks placed in the coach four hours ago at the inn. Mary did not know how she would ever adapt to such cold weather; it was so different from the warm climate of New Sussex where the temperature never dipped below the point of needing a light jacket. The sight of snow had been a marvel to Mary, captivating her for many long minutes as she watched it coat the roofs and treetops of London in a thick blanket of white. But as the weeks in London drew long, the allure of snow quickly faded. Piles of brown slush, an unpleasing mixture of horse manure and street filth, soon lined every London road and the prospect of cold toes and wet and muddied petticoats soon kept her from venturing beyond the townhouse without the aid of a carriage.

Turning from the window, Mary nervously fingered a letter from Miss Georgiana Darcy, the sister of Mr. Darcy. Georgiana's letters had been a source of comfort for Mary in her time of transition. As soon as Mr. Darcy sent word of his acceptance of the guardianship of Mary, Georgiana began to correspond with Mary. They had written each other describing their various hobbies, enjoyments and other sundry details of their personalities with Miss Darcy expressing the earnest hope that they soon become good friends. At first Mary was surprised by Georgiana's request, but as there correspondence continued, Mary began to feel its sincerity. Georgiana's last letter had given her helpful hints as to what to expect at Pemberley, from Mrs. Reynolds's abhorrence of muddy footprints in the foyer after a hard rain to Mrs. Darcy's propensity to tease her husband. Despite Georgiana's warm letters, Mary still felt trepidation over her acceptance by the other inhabitants of Pemberley. She wondered if Mr. Darcy was a severe man or how Mrs. Darcy would receive another young woman in her home.

These anxieties succeeded in momentarily distracting Mary from her melancholy. Mary understandably still felt the keenness of the death of Lord Farthington, but to also be robbed of the only home she had ever known and to be ever separated from her friends and acquaintances further compounded her grief. Mr. Brambles, her guardian's solicitor, remained her only tie to her old life. He accompanied her on the arduous trip across the Atlantic and was her companion during her weeks in London. Mr. Brambles was a gentle grandfatherly man of two and sixty with large bushy gray eyebrows, a slight paunch and an easy rolling laugh. Ever conscious of her melancholy, Mr. Brambles often employed himself with the task of cheering her up, whether it was with the present of a new bonnet or some other bauble or the offering of an amusing tale during long carriage rides. While Mary was deeply grateful to him for his efforts and concern, such trinkets and stories affected her mood but little. She could not be persuaded from continuing her mourning in earnest. Concerned for her first presentation to Mr. and Mrs. Darcy at Pemberley that morning, Mr. Brambles tried to convince her to put away her black mourning dress of crape and bombazine in favor of a more becoming green gown with a matching pelisse that he had made for her while in London. It only being six months after her guardian's death, Mary heartily refused, but did agree to wear some ornamentation in the form of a ruby cross.

"Ahh, Pemberley. Is it not a fair sight, Miss Farthington?" Mr. Brambles ventured, breaking the silence that pervaded the carriage for the majority of the journey.

Mary returned her gaze to the carriage window to see the great house of Pemberley finally coming into view. The house was rather large with tall stately columns gracing the façade that faced a sizable lake, now frozen over and silent. The light grey stone of the building melded perfectly with the surrounding snow covered grounds, lending the house a natural quality.

"Yes," Mary replied looking at the house in wonder, "I can't recall ever seeing a home so happily situated. Well, in addition to Loland Manor of course."

Mr. Brambles regarded her thoughtfully, before nodding his head in understanding. "I know Derbyshire is nothing like New Sussex, but it is my sincere hope that in time you can learn to be happy here also, Miss Farthington. It was your father's wish as well."

"In time I shall be happy again," Mary sighed, favoring her companion with a weak smile. "I will try to be so for his sake."

Soon after, their carriage stopped before the main entrance of Pemberley. Several footmen quickly descended upon their carriage, handing down the lady and elderly gentleman and seeing to their trunks and bags. Taking Mr. Brambles offered arm, Mary made her way up the steps of Pemberley following a footman. They were shown into the foyer where Mr. and Mrs. Darcy and Miss Darcy stood waiting to receive them, along with William Bennet Darcy. Mary was surprised at their warm reception, appearing in the foyer to greet them as if they were family. She had expected to be shown into a parlor where she would wait for several minutes for their arrival, not to be greeted by the warm smiles before her.

"Mr. Brambles," Darcy stepped forward taking the man's hand as they entered. "Welcome to Pemberley."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. Your warm reception humbles us," Mr. Brambles replied as he bowed. "Let me introduce Miss Mary Caroline Farthington."

Mary curtsied shyly to the tall dark haired man. Although handsome, his countenance was stern and proud. "Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy. It is an honor to meet you, sir. Thank you for welcoming us into your home," Mary greeted in her soft voice, then made even softer from intimidation.

"You are very welcome, Miss Farthington. In time I hope that you consider it your own," Darcy replied as he bowed ever so slightly at the waist. "Let me introduce you to my wife, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy and to my sister Miss Georgiana Darcy."

A woman about a head shorter than herself with curly brown hair and large sparkling brown eyes stepped forward matching Mary's curtsey before taking both of her hands into hers.

"Let me welcome you to Pemberley, Miss Farthington. I am so sorry for your loss and it is my hope that you will find as much pleasure and peace within its walls and among the grounds as I do."

"Thank you, Mrs. Darcy. I have never seen a house so happily situated or met people so gracious."

"Miss Farthington," Miss Darcy stepped forward with a curtsey. "Welcome to Pemberley. I am ever so pleased that you have finally come! It is my earnest hope that we will soon become great friends."

"Thank you, Miss Darcy. It is a pleasure to meet you as well. I already feel as if I know so much about you from your letters. I look forward to getting to know you more."

Miss Darcy expressed similar sentiments, excitement over Mary's arrival written over her features. Mrs. Darcy smiled warmly at Georgiana, pleased at her attachment to Mary before introducing her son. Little William Bennet clutched shyly at his mother's skirt and peered up at Mary with wide brown eyes and unruly dark brown curls.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, young Mr. Darcy," Mary ventured curtseying slightly. She found herself instantly enamored with the little one, enchanted by his shyness and expressive little eyes. He was no more than three years old, at best, and still unaccustomed to meeting strangers. He stared up at her wonderingly before replying to her greeting with a muffled "good evening" and retreating behind his mother completely. Mrs. Darcy apologized for the boy's shyness while a maid collected the young child to return him to the nursery.

Mary was relieved when Miss Darcy offered to show them to their rooms and happily followed the petite woman up the grand staircase to the second floor. Mary marveled at the décor of Pemberley as they made their way to their rooms. The furnishing and décor, although rich and ornate was also tasteful, a testimony to the elegant sensibilities of several generations of Darcys Mrs. Darcy first took them to Mary's quarters, which were just across the hall from Georgiana's. Miss. Darcy seemed most pleased at these arrangements and was most eager to know if Mary approved of the room. Mary conceded that she could find nothing lacking in her chambers and that she liked them exceedingly. Her quarters consisted of a large bedroom with an ample sitting area complete with a modest writing desk. The dressing rooms were also well laid out and all of the areas featured walls decorated amiable with lavender wall paper adorned with a vine and leaf motif. The bedroom also featured a large fireplace complete with a roaring fire. Mary thought that this was her most favorite feature of her quarters and envisioned spending many mornings and afternoons seated close to the flames in an effort to escape the chill of winter.

After giving Mrs. Darcy and Miss. Darcy her favorable opinion of the room, Mary was introduced to her lady's maid, April. April was a pretty girl of around eighteen with sea green eyes and curly red hair that escaped from underneath her cap.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," April curtsied to Mary.

"April is one of our most trusted and loved servants. Her sister, Betsy, serves as my maid and I am sure that you will get along famously."

"Thank you again, Mrs. Darcy," Mary began, taking the woman's hand in hers. "I am very grateful for your kindness in welcoming me into your home."

"There is no need to thank me, Miss Farthington," Mrs. Darcy began, her brown eyes sparkling warmly. "It is the least that we could do. Lord Farthington was my husband's godfather, afterall. So, we are practically family, are we not? And family is always welcome at Pemberley. On that note, would you be so kind as to call me Elizabeth? Mrs. Darcy is so formal."

"Yes," interrupted Georgiana brightly. "Do call me Georgiana as well, if we can have the pleasure of calling you Mary."

Mary smiled broadly, her first sincere smile of the evening. Tears threatened to escape her eyes as she was so overwhelmed by the welcome. The anxieties that plagued her during the carriage ride began to fade in the light of Elizabeth's sincere welcome and Georgiana's eagerness. Mary took a deep breath, not wanting to embarrass herself with an influx of tears in front of her new acquaintances.

"Of course, Elizabeth and Georgiana, doing so would give me great pleasure."

"Excellent," Elizabeth replied with a gentle smile. "Now, I am sure that you are tired and would like to rest before dinner. I will leave you in April's capable hands."

After Elizabeth, Georgiana and Mr. Brambles left, Mary turned to April with a shy smile.

"Well, I believe Mrs. Darcy was quite correct in her estimation. I am quite tired and long to refresh myself after such a long journey."

"Very well, ma'am. I can ready a warm bath for you, should you desire one and the footmen will have your trunks up here in a few moments. Would you care for some tea in the meantime?"

"Yes, I'd like that very much. Thank you, April."

After a long hot bath, April helped Mary change into her attire for dinner. Upon Mary's insistence, April switched the cream gown she had laid out for a simple black gown with a square cut neckline and long sleeves. April was much displeased by her new mistress's choice of black attire for dinner, yet prevailed upon her to wear some livelier ornamentation in contrast. Mary agreed to this compromise, wearing s delicate silver chain with a mother of pearl pendant that shown brightly against the chocolate colored skin of her chest.

Upon examining herself in the mirror, Mary was happy for the slight compromise, the mother of pearl pendant being a gift from her father upon her sixteenth birthday. Despite the picture of beauty before her, Mary was still found defects with her gown, hair and choice of ornaments, her nervousness over the ensuing meal coloring her judgment. While she was encouraged to find the Darcy's a kind and welcoming family, she did not look forward to the dinner hour which would allow them a closer scrutiny of her character. Mary was especially concerned over Mr. Darcy's opinion of her. She seemed like such a proud and fine gentleman and Mary felt much like a beggar maid with soiled clothes before him.

"Are you nervous, ma'am?" April ventured as Mary readjusted her gown in the mirror for the umpteenth time.

"Yes, I must admit that I am. All of this is so new, April and I am a little frightened by Mr. Darcy," Mary replied as she exhaled deeply.

"Afraid of Mr. Darcy? There isn't any need for that. He may appear proud or stern at first look, but he is the kindest and fairest master I have ever known. Why, I have never heard him raise his voice to anyone, and with his family he is full forever smiling."

This revelation surprised Mary. She could not imagine the stern countenance that greeted her a few hours ago transformed by smiles and laughter. However, she supposed that her first perception could be misguided. Thanking April, she made her way down for dinner, a little comforted by her maid's words of encouragement.

Mary found that the dinner hour was not one to be dreaded, as she had before. Rather than a time for close scrutiny, she found herself engaged in lively conversation and laughing in spite of herself at Mrs. Darcy's gentle teasing of her husband. Mr. Darcy was indeed all smiles during dinner, his eyes sparkling with good humor at his wife's gentle jabs. Mary was surprised by this aspect of their relationship. While Mr. Darcy seemed the picture of pride at first glance, his wife had a way of revealing his warm caring nature to all. Mary also found Mr. Darcy to be a lively conversationalist who was eager to learn more about his new charge, discussing with her a wide range of topics from literature, to music, to memories of her late father. They chatted at length about their mutual interests in literature, finding that they both had a lively appreciation for John Milton. Mary found their exchange a comforting reminder of home. Lord Farthington would often engage Mary in good natured intellectual debates, taking great pride in developing his daughter's cognitive abilities. Mary thoroughly enjoyed those times together with her father, and missed them keenly. For his part, Mr. Darcy seemed most impressed with her voracious love of literature and knowledge and expressed an interest in further conversation. Georgiana and Elizabeth seemed less engaged in this conversation, however, being less inclined to discuss Paradise Lost as they were to learn more about their new family member. When Mr. Darcy was drawn into conversation with Mr. Brambles on the latest debates before parliament and the upcoming sessions, Georgiana saw her opportunity to draw Mary into a conversation of their own.

"You wrote in your letters that you are a lover of music, much like myself. Would you give us the honor of hearing you play?" Georgiana asked shyly, hoping sincerely that her request did not offend her new friend.

"Yes, doing so would give me much pleasure. However, I must beg that you also honor me by playing as well." Mary replied warmly.

Georgiana's face brightened. "Thank you, Mary. I will oblige you and play, although I fear I may not be as proficient as yourself. Now that you are come here, perhaps we could practice together and learn a duet."

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Georgiana," Elizabeth broke in smiling broadly. "Although I fear that you are being too humble. I have never heard someone play as excellently as you do, Georgiana. I suspect that you are both quite accomplished at the pianoforte and will make perfect practice partners."

Soon after, Elizabeth rose to signal that it was time for the ladies to withdraw to the sitting room while Mr. Brambles and Mr. Darcy retired to the library for a glass of port. Georgiana and Mary followed her to the sitting room where they could engage in more casual conversation.

"So Mary, I trust your journey here was not too tiring," Elizabeth began.

"It was quite agreeable, thank you. We traveled from London where we had resided for a month while Mr. Brambles saw to some business regarding the estate. I looked forward to the journey to Pemberley, as I found myself quite shut in at the townhouse there."

"So you did not attend any concerts or plays, Mary?" Georgiana asked as she seated herself next to her.

"I am afraid not. Mr. Brambles was quite engaged and I spent most of my days alone in the townhouse. I have no friends or relations in town and so had no cause to leave cards with anyone. Consequently, we had not the pleasure of entertaining anyone."

"You must have been very bored, then. I could not imagine spending so many days without a companion for pleasant conversation." Georgiana continued, her brows wrinkled in sincere worry.

"For my part, I was not so very bored. I did find it confining in that I was not free to walk about and relish the fresh air as I am used to in New Sussex; the snow and mud covered streets and cold did little to compel me out of doors. However, I made use of my time in exploring my father's library. I took the time to reacquaint myself with Homer and Virgil and to indulge myself in writing. I do look forward to enjoying the fresh air of Derbyshire and the freedom to wander the grounds."

"Mary, I find we have one essential thing in common, a love of nature and long walks. Tell me, was your home in New Sussex given to fine constitutionals?" Elizabeth inquired slightly teasingly, happy to find a point of conversation on which they shared a common interest.

"New Sussex was exceedingly beautiful. I have been gone from there these six months and I must admit I do miss it greatly. Our home was not far from the beach. In fact, my rooms had a lovely porch from which I could see the Atlantic. The ocean waves would lull me to sleep and the smell of the salty water was refreshing," Mary took on a faraway look, her mouth spreading involuntarily into a wide smile. "Every morning before breakfast I would steal down into the kitchen and take a piece of bread or fruit to tide me over and walk for an hour or so on the beach without shoes or stockings. I miss the feel of the warm wet sand giving beneath my toes as I made my way along the coast collecting shells here and there. Not far from the house was a great rock with a smooth flat surface that sat on the beach. I would climb on top of it with my journal and charcoal pencils and sketch and write poetry. Sometimes in the evening after the dinner hour, Lord Farthington and I would walk along the beach as well. We wouldn't say a word, each of us too absorbed in the sounds of the ocean and the power of a dark sea that stretched before us as far as the eye could see. I...I can remember the feeling of standing their trying to see through the darkness with just the sounds of the sea. It was like worship, like God was there resting there."

Mary stopped her speech and looked down at her hands as if embarrassed, tears threatening to spill from her eyes at the recollection of her father and her home. "I apologize. I sometimes forget myself," Mary sighed deeply, her voice slightly chocked.

"There is no need to apologize, Mary." Elizabeth replied her eyes shining from unshed tears. "You describe New Sussex as the perfect paradise. From your description I could imagine myself walking along those shores and smelling the salt air. No wonder you miss your home so."

The ladies where soon joined by Mr. Darcy and Mr. Brambles. Elizabeth rose to greet her husband and seated herself in a chair across from him so that they could chat briefly as Georgiana engaged Mary in conversation about Georgiana's last season in London. After persuading Mary and Georgiana to delight them all with music, the Darcy's, Mr. Brambles and Mary soon retired for much needed rest.

"Well, Mr. Darcy, what do you think of our Miss Farthington so far." Elizabeth inquired of her husband, turning from her mirror to face him as she brushed her long brown hair.

"I find that I like her exceedingly," Darcy replied as he sat on the edge of the bed opposite her. "She is both modest yet confident in her speech, well read and educated and possesses the manners and charms befitting a lady. I am hopeful that Georgiana will find a kindred spirit in Mary."

"Am I right in concluding, Mr. Darcy, that you would add her to your ranks of truly accomplished women?" Elizabeth whispered, her eyebrows rising in challenge.

Darcy smiled, surprised that she remembered their early conversation at Netherfield where he declared that the mark of a truly accomplished woman is the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.

"Perhaps, Mrs. Darcy. However adding Miss Farthington to that esteemed company would push their ranks above half a dozen."

Elizabeth laughed gently in reply before setting down her brush and seating herself beside her husband. Darcy soon enfolded her in a warm embrace, placing one arm around her and drawing her close.

"She is a little shy and bookish," Elizabeth continued as she played absently with the fingers of one of his hands. "She reminds me much of my sister Mary in that regard, although one could never call Miss Farthington plain or sullen."

"Aren't you being a little hasty in your appraisal, dear? I found her neither bookish nor overly shy. She has a lively mind, and while not given to wit, she is thoughtful and articulate. As for her shyness and sad demeanor, the reason for those is evident enough I would hope."

Elizabeth started slightly, lifting her head from his shoulder. "I did not mean it as a critique, merely an observation. When she spoke of her time in New Sussex this evening, there was such a longing and sadness in her voice. The way she spoke of her home, with such passion and feeling makes me wonder how she will adjust to life here. Can she be happy here with us?"

Darcy paused thoughtfully. He could well imagine the whirlwind of emotions Mary must be dealing with. So many changes to be suddenly thrust upon her. He recalled how he first felt when at a mere three and twenty he was made master of Pemberley and guardian to Georgiana having just finished at Cambridge all without a father or mother to guide him. While Mary did not have the burden of being master of an estate or guardian to a younger sibling, she was robbed of all that was familiar and comfortable to her and in less than two years time she too would be mistress of a great estate.

"Well," Darcy began after many moments, "I am sure in time she will come to love Pemberley as her home. She is still grieving and it will be some time before her true disposition is made known to us. Until that time, we should endeavor to make her life here as comfortable as possible."

Elizabeth sighed her agreement, content with her husband's outlook on the situation. "Yes, Georgiana and I will do whatever is in our power to make her feel welcome. And with Christmas nearly upon us, there will be more than enough activities to keep her diverted. We will treat her as if she is our own sister reunited with us at long last."

Darcy smiled down at his wife, pleased at her eagerness to welcome Miss. Farthington. He admired his wife's good and giving nature. He was sure that his wife's statement was made in earnest and that her welcome of Miss Farthington would be genuine and complete.

Mary's second day at Pemberley was consumed with touring the house and grounds by carriage and being introduced to all of the essential staff members, including Mrs. Reynolds, the head housekeeper. Mr. Brambles spent the entire day in Mr. Darcy's company, attending to business matters and coming to an agreement regarding Mary's inheritance. Georgiana took it upon herself to personally show Mary around Pemberley, freeing Elizabeth to see to other matters. Mary found the house pleasing although its size and number of rooms caused her some confusion when trying to find her way about. The estate included a breakfast parlor, an east facing parlor for the afternoon, a westward facing parlor for evenings, a solarium filled with exotic plants and flowers, an impressive library, a music room, two dinning rooms, a grand room used for balls, ten guest chambers, two kitchens, two lower floors of servant quarters, six main quarters complete with sitting rooms and dressing rooms and a myriad of hallways, staircases and other rooms of which Mary lost count.

Towards the end of the tour they came upon a large room with bright windows filled with portraits, paintings and lovely statues. A large portrait of Mr. Darcy stood on the east wall that captured the man's handsome features and tall noble stature, but somehow was unable to capture the warmth and sincerity that Mary found directed towards his family and on occasion, to herself. On the opposite wall was a portrait of Elizabeth in an emerald gown with a small white dog curled at her feet. She looked directly at the viewer with large brown mirth filled eyes and her mouth trying to conceal a smile. The other walls contained a portrait of Georgiana seated at the pianoforte looking shyly at the viewer with her back to the instrument and her hands folded demurely in her lap. Of all the portraits Mary had viewed this day, this one captured the essence of the subject most acutely. Over the marble mantled fireplace hung a large portrait of the late Mr. Darcy with a young Fitzwilliam Darcy at his side and a beautiful woman with abundant black locks seated before him. Her smile was radiant and her large blue eyes shown with warmth and wisdom. Mary stood before this portrait for some minutes.

"I find myself admiring this portrait quite often," Georgiana replied as she came to stand beside Mary. "I often wonder if my mother had the chance to bestow that same smile upon me before she died. They all look so happy in that painting. I wish I could have known her better. She was so beautiful and kind."

Mary looked from her portrait to her friend and noticed the sadness behind her serene smile.

"I am sure that she did, Georgiana, and that she would be very proud and pleased to have you as a daughter. I wish I had even a painting to admire of my mother. She also died in childbirth, leaving me without the opportunity of sharing her smiles and tender caresses."

Georgiana clasped her friends hand in hers and looked to Mary with fresh forming tears in her eyes. "Forgive me, Mary. I did not know."

"It is alright," Mary smiled warmly as her eyes also began to water. "I suppose we are sisters in this sorrow. Yet we are also united by knowing the love and tender affections of relations who were both mother and father to us. I can see how well loved you are by your brother and also by Elizabeth. Family is such a comfort..."

Nearly overcome with emotion, Mary slipped from her dear friend's grasp and walked over to a window, staring unseeing over the sleeping winter landscape of Pemberley. She struggled to force back the tears that now began to tumble down her checks freely. Mary knew how unseemly it was to show such displays of emotion, or so she had been taught by her governess. She also did not want to bring further sadness to her new friend.

"Mary..." Georgiana whispered as she stepped behind Mary, tenderly placing a small hand on her shoulder. "May I ask permission to embrace you?"

"Oh, you need not ask," Mary replied, her tears now falling in earnest at Georgiana's shy display of friendship.

The two embraced for several long minutes with Georgiana comforting her friend whose wounds were so fresh. Georgiana had the benefit of the passing of many years since her mother's death and her dear father's some ten years ago. She could very well comprehend Mary's feelings.

"Mary, I am so happy that you have come to stay at Pemberley." Georgiana began as she moved them both toward a small settee near the fireplace. "I feel that we will soon become great friends. I want you to know that if you ever feel the need to confide in someone or need a friendly ear just to listen, that I am here for you."

"Thank you, Georgiana," Mary smiled having finally mastered her tears. "You know, I have hardly ever cried after my father's death. If anything, I felt numb to just about everything around me. You must think me awfully calloused?"

"No, I'd never think that, Mary. Everyone grieves in their own particular way."

Silence fell between them as they both sat deep in thought. Georgiana searched her mind for something that might be of comfort to her friend. Smiling broadly, Georgiana remembered something that her brother had shown her prior to Mary's arrival.

"Come, Mary. I have something to show you that you may find comforting. I cannot begin to understand how I overlooked it before."

Georgiana rose and made her way to a glass and mahogany case that ran most of the length of the east wall. Inside the case was a substantial collection of miniatures of family members, friends and ancestors. A few of the miniatures were just of the eye of a loved one, while others depicted the subject in the bloom of youth. Georgiana searched the case for the particular miniature.

"There," Georgiana exclaimed pointing to a gold cased miniature next to one of her uncle the Earl of Matlock. "Here is one of your dear Lord Farthington. I dare say it was taken when he was quite young. How handsome he was."

Mary leaned over the case and smiled. "Yes, that is Lord Farthington. He must have not been more than three and twenty when that was taken. He almost appears the same as I remember him, except for a few gray hairs and lines in his face."

The miniature depicted a young man in a blue-gray waistcoat and jacket with a white neck cloth intricately tied. His light brown hair framed his face in large waves. His green eyes stared directly at the viewer and crinkled slightly at the outer edges. His long narrow nose pointed to lips curved into a slight smile that looked as if he was suppressing laughter.

"This miniature belonged to my father and was taken soon after they graduated from Cambridge. If you like, I can request that Fitzwilliam give it to you. I am sure that my father would want you to have it."

"Thank you, Georgiana. You are too kind, but I could not accept it." Desiring to change the subject, Mary began to examine the other miniatures in the case. Mary inquired after the picture of a striking man with dark black curls and deep blue eyes wearing a red coat. Mary found him quite handsome, with a square jawline and masculine brow. His face had the look of a man trying to look grave and serious despite a nature that was easy and given to laughter and teasing.

"Ah, that is my dear cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. He served as my guardian with Fitzwilliam after my father died. He is in the army and is like a brother to Fitzwilliam and myself. He often stays with us at Pemberley and at Grovenor House in London when his duties allow. He is due to arrive at Pemberley in a few weeks time for an extended stay of two months or so. I can hardly wait for his arrival; for he is my favorite cousin and we have not had the pleasure of his company for these past two years."

"I should like to meet him," Mary replied before turning to another miniature. "And who is this young man below Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

Georgiana paled slightly at the picture of the grinning brown haired man. "That is George Wickham, the son of my father's steward and the husband of my sister in the law, Lydia," Georgiana sighed in a low voice.

Mary gazed at her friend in concern. It was as if a dark cloud had passed over Georgiana's face at the mention of the man. What must he have done to cause her such distress at the mere mention of him? Mary was determined to know more, but held her tongue as she knew Georgiana would share all when and if she pleased.

"Oh my, I have quite forgotten the time, Georgiana. I think it best we leave our perusal of these miniatures until tomorrow."

"You are quite right, Mary. The time has gotten away from us," Georgiana paused before turning to her friend with a grin quite reminiscent of Elizabeth. "I wonder if you have been studious during our tour of the house today. I will quiz you now and let you lead the way back to our quarters."

Mary laughed, surprised at Georgiana's challenge. Nodding in reply, Mary led the way out of the parlor and towards their quarters. Georgiana was pleased that Mary found the way to her quarters with little trouble. However, during a few turns, Georgiana had to gently redirect her friend as she became quite turned around. When they arrived at their rooms a quarter of an hour later, they hugged their goodbye and prepared for dinner.

The days soon turned into weeks as Mary adjusted to life at Pemberley. She soon found herself quite comfortable roaming the halls of Pemberley and navigating the intricacies of country life. Mary found Georgiana to be a great friend, often spending hours practicing playing the harp and pianoforte together and walking about the grounds when the weather allowed. In the short span of a week, Mary found herself soon attached to Georgiana and felt blessed by her friendship. She could not find the same ease with Mr. Darcy, however. Mary found herself secretly intimidated by the tall gentleman despite all of his efforts to draw her into conversation during dinner or his open invitation for her to explore his library whenever she chose. Despite being only twelve or so years her senior, Mr. Darcy had a fatherly air about him, directing all in his house with ease. All that is except for his wife Elizabeth, who teased him mercilessly in front of them. At first Mary found herself quite shocked by Elizabeth's forthrightness with her husband and her easy cheeky nature. However, Mr. Darcy seemed to enjoy his wife's spirit, even rising to the challenge of teasing her on occasion. Even with such displays of lightheartedness, Mary could not bring herself to be entirely comfortable in the man's presence.

However, Mary soon found herself incapable of being long out of the company of the young Master Darcy. Little William Bennet Darcy soon became her ever constant companion and biggest fan, aside from Georgiana. When Mary first met little William, she found him to be a shy boy easily frightened by strangers and one who sought comfort in the folds of his mother's skirt. The shyness that marked their first meeting soon gave way to a rapt fascination with his new playmate. On their second meeting, Mary was pleased to see that William had summoned the courage to forsake the protection of his mother's skirts to creep towards her and pester her with a litany of questions. Mary soon came to realize that curiosity rather than courage led to William's growing talkativeness. One question tumbled after another as William approached the mysterious new house member: Where do you live? Who is your papa? How old are you? Do you like strawberries? Why are you brown? Does your color rub off? Why is your hair like that? Will you stay here forever? Mary took care to answer every question with patience and good nature. Even his impertinent questions about her hair and skin were answered with a soft smile and gentle reply. Having concluded that she was a princess from some faraway enchanted isle, as he came to understand New Sussex, William could hardly stand to be far from Mary's side. William was fond of her stories, gentle pinches and undivided attention when she visited him in the nursery. He looked to her late morning visits with all the anticipation and excitement of a four year old child. Mary, for her part, was quite enamored as well. She was soon won over by William's wide brown eyes and soft chubby cheeks. She also savored the opportunity to concoct stories for such an obliging and appreciative audience. In addition to her new found friend Georgiana, little William was a source of comfort and light in her existence.

Two and a half weeks had passed since Mary's arrival at Pemberley, and she soon found herself settling into the swing of things. Her late morning afternoons were spent in the company of little William while much of the rest of her day was spent in the company of Georgiana, talking, knitting or practicing music together. Sunday mornings were spent attending services at the rectory not far from Pemberley. Mary found her first two Sundays at the church somewhat trying. She enjoyed the sermons well enough and the song selection, but Mary was ever knowledgeable of the eyes of her fellow church goers. They always seemed to be upon her and low whispers would greet her as she walked down the aisle to her place in the front pew with the other members of the Darcy household. Mary could not fathom if these whispers were out of curiosity or distaste. Frankly, it mattered not to her, both options were disconcerting. Mary desired nothing more than to worship in relative peace. The closing hymn was the high point of church, for Mary, as she knew that she would soon be free to return home. On Sunday afternoons, Mary would steal away on her own to the confines of Mr. Darcy's. Mr. Darcy had extended to Mary an open invitation to sample the delights of his library whenever she chose. Mary eagerly accepted this offer, although she was still a little wary of visiting the room when he was absconded there. Mary would spend her time in prayer, or writing in her weathered journal or reading some new found literary treasure. Besides her visits with William, her times sequestered in the library were her favorite.

On the second Tuesday since Mary's arrival, the cook prepared a sumptuous meal for dinner, putting before them dishes of such various colors, flavors and textures that Mary was soon overwhelmed. Never had she eaten such a variety of dishes in one meal that spanned the continent. Mary noted that Mr. Brambles seemed most content with what was before him, taking little time away from his plate for conversation and focusing on savoring the tastes and textures before him.

"My compliments to your cook, Mr. Darcy." Mr. Brambles began as he lifted his wine glass in salute. "I do not remember when I last enjoyed a meal so satisfying."

"Thank you, Mr. Brambles. I believe Mrs. Murphy thought to give us a tour of English and French cuisine in your honor." Mr. Darcy replied as he signaled a servant to refill his wine glass. "Miss Farthington, I understand you were able to tour the grounds of Pemberley visiting tenants with Georgiana today. I trust you found everything to your liking."

"Yes, Mr. Darcy. The grounds are so very well maintained. I am anxious to see them once spring has arrived."

Darcy smiled as he was always well pleased to hear Pemberley praised. "Well, Pemberley at its best during the springtime. I am sure you will have your fill of gardens and groves then. You may even venture to discover the hidden glens that my cousins and I were so fond of in our youth..."

The entrance of a servant with an express post interrupted Mr. Darcy. Thanking the servant stiffly, Darcy went to reach for the letter displayed on the servant's tray.

"Your pardon, sir, but this letter is addressed to Mr. Brambles," the servant demurely redirected as he made his way over to Mr. Brambles.

A surprised Mr. Brambles rose to accept the letter. Hastily breaking the red seal and reading through the contents, Mr. Brambles whitened slightly before turning his eyes toward Mary.

"Whatever is the matter, Mr. Brambles? You look unwell." Elizabeth asked worriedly.

"No, I am quite well, Mrs. Darcy. It is just that I have been summoned back to London with all immediacy."

"Summoned to London?" Mary asked rising from her chair. "Is it something serious, Mr. Brambles?"

"I am afraid that it is, Miss Farthington. I must cut my time here short. I must even leave this very hour with all immediacy."

"Then you shall have use of my coach, Mr. Brambles," Darcy said as he rose placing his napkin on the tabletop.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy, you are most kind," Mr. Brambles replied before walking to Mary who affectionately took both of her hands in his. "I am sorry to leave you so soon, Miss Farthington. I know I promised to stay with you here a full month at least, but you seem to be quite well here and have almost come to think on this place as your home. I promise that I will write from London at the first opportunity."

Mr. Brambles bowed and bid farewell to Georgiana and Elizabeth before following Mr. Darcy from the dining room to prepare for his journey. Dinner progressed without Mary registering a word that was said, her mind was so focused on Mr. Brambles departure. She was torn between genuine concern for the affairs that called for the urgent summons and resignation that Pemberley was indeed her new home. The past five months had been so consumed with traveling and temporary stays that Mary did not fully register that she would never truly return to New Sussex or her old way of life. Not in the mood for evening card games or music, Mary made her excuses and retired early to her chambers.

Chapter 2

Three days had passed since Mr. Bramble's sudden departure from Pemberley. Mary had yet to receive any letter from the gentleman and she began to worry in earnest for both his safety and the nature of the business that called him away so suddenly. Over breakfast, Georgiana comforted Mary as best she could; assuring her that she had no need to hapterworry. Mary could not understand what could have been so urgent as to require Mr. Bramble's immediate attention. However, she rallied her spirits to make her now obligatory morning visit to little William. He had come to expect Mary's visit each morning at precisely 10:30 and Mary could not bring herself to disappoint him.

"Princess Mary, will you tell me a story?" little William asked as he ran over to Mary's chair in the nursery.

Raising the small boy to sit in her lap, Mary ran a hand through the young boy's wild dark brown curls. "Nothing would give me more pleasure, little one. Which story would you prefer? Would you like to hear about the terrible sea monster and the pirate Greybeard or about little Juju and the witch of Gorland Wood?"

"Tell me about the witch, Mary. I should like to hear that one," William replied as he nestled himself into the crook of Mary's left arm.

Mary smiled obligingly before placing a soft kiss on the top of his head and breathing deeply to begin her tale of an adventurous boy named Juju and the peril he found when he tried to steal magic potion from the witch of Gorland Wood. Little William laughed, shuddered, gasped and cheered throughout her yarn and by the time Mary finished the tale, with little Juju escaping the evil witch alive but with the tail of a squirrel, William lay yawning in her arms.

"Can I hear another, Princess Mary," William asked with a yawn. "Won't you tell just one more?"

"No, little William. You shall have to wait until tomorrow. Then I shall tell you the story of Greybeard the Pirate. But, for now, you must be off for a nap and I have business elsewhere."

Kissing William on his soft cheek, Mary passed the contented child to his nanny. Mary then took leave of the nursery to take a much desired turn in Pemberley's grounds. When she awoke that morning, Mary's heart was warmed to see that the sky was free of clouds and the sun shone bright and warm, melting the remaining snow that had clung to the trees, roofs and bushes. Mary had not ventured outside in at least two weeks and she reckoned that the fresh air would do her health and mind some good. Mary scampered down the main staircase as quickly as her legs would safely carry her. She did not want to miss the opportunity of enjoying such a rare early December day. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, Mr. Darcy was just crossing the foyer.

"Good morning, Mr. Darcy," Mary curtsied her greeting.

"Good morning, Mary," Darcy paused to bow slightly and favor her with a smile. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"I am off to take a much needed walk. I have been most anxious to get outside and the weather today favors me."

"Ah, I might have guessed. If Elizabeth were not otherwise engaged, I am sure she would have beaten you to the door. I hope you have not forgotten to oblige little William with another of your tales this morning. He spoke of nothing else last night other than his princess and her amazing yarns. It appears as if you are a regular Sharazad, enchanting my son with your daily stories."

Mary laughed at the mention of her little shadow. "Yes, I have just come from the nursery and little William. He is such a sweet child."

"Good, good. Enjoy your walk, Miss Farthington and do be careful to dress warmly and not to stray too far from the house. The weather is fine, but I bid you to be cautious," Darcy warned, taking on his most fatherly tone as if he were speaking to his Georgiana.

Mary nodded in reply before making her way to the front door and calling for her coat, bonnet and gloves. As soon as she was sufficiently far from the house, Mary set off at a fast clip gathering her skirts in her hands as not to trip. Delighting in the fresh air and warmth of the sun, Mary ventured farther from the house than she intended. Soon even the cold did not bother her as her limbs were warmed with the exertion of her flight. Arriving at the lake, Mary soon slowed to a leisurely stroll breathing deeply. The waters of the lake were still and partially covered in ice. Mary sighed in resignation. This silent lake would have to make due and replace the lull of the ocean to which she had been accustomed. In many ways, Mary had been a child of the ocean, spending her days by the water which afforded her such peace and bid her to dream.

Sitting down on a tree stump near the lake edge, Mary was soon lost in memories of her home in New Sussex, remembering her times with Lord Farthington and the lonely months when he was away on travels. Those were the most unpleasant times of her memory. His work often took him to America and the Caribbean colonies where he and his colleagues would document the atrocities of the slave trade in an attempt to sway the English public to the abolitionist cause. When Mary was a young girl, she could not comprehend why Lord Farthington refused to take her on these journeys. Mary viewed them as an opportunity for adventure, not able to understand the danger involved in these missions and her precarious status in slave holding colonies and in the American south. Mary would cry bitterly while she watched his ship cast sail from port, knowing that it would be months before she saw her father again. On one occasion when Lord Farthington was preparing for a trip to Virginia, an eight year old Mary packed a small bag complete with a piece of fruit, her favorite doll and a bonnet and placed it gingerly on top of Lord Farthington's trunks. Donning his hat and coat, Lord Farthing smiled gently at Mary as he picked up the meager parcel.

"What do we have here, Miss Mary? Are you preparing for a trip?" he asked as he stooped down next to her, peering gently into her brown eyes.

"I am coming with you, Papa," Mary replied innocently, her eyes shining with expectation.

Lord Farthington sighed as he opened her little bag, smiling as he took note of its contents. "I see that you packed well, little one. You even remembered Lady Rubela." Passing the small brown cloth doll to Mary, he gently stroked her cheek with his free hand. "You know that I cannot take you with me, Mary, no matter how much I would delight in your company."

Mary's sweet smile slipped into a pout and she hugged Lady Rubela tightly. "But, but I hate it when you go away. It is no fun when you are away. Nana makes me play alone all day and Miss Jenkins makes me get up early to practice my French."

"My trips are very dangerous, sweetling. They are no place for a little girl such as yourself." Sitting on one of his trunks, Lord Farthington gathered Mary in his arms and sat her on his lap.

"Why do you have to go away?" Mary asked looking up at him with wide eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Mary tried to keep a brave face, knowing how Lord Farthington disliked excessive tears.

"You know that I only go away to help people who are in trouble, people who have been stolen from their homes and their mommies and daddies and made to work for cruel people. I must go, Mary to help them be free. You have never put up such a fuss before. What is so important about this trip?"

"Because Mother was born in Virginia," Mary said in a low whisper, her head bowed to prevent him from seeing the few tears that began to roll down her cheek.

Lord Farthington sighed deeply, before lightly kissing her on the head and gathering her closer to him. He was pleased at her interest in her mother and her own history but saddened as he recounted in his heart her mother's struggles and fate. He had told Mary stories about her mother, although his stories were a gentler version of reality. Her mother was called Dinah, he had told her, and she lived on a large farm in Virginia where they grew tobacco that men sometimes liked to smoke. Dinah was very beautiful with the same large brown eyes of Mary and a kind smile for all with even white teeth like a string of pearls. Her hair was long and braided in a thick rope that rested on her back and she worked as a maid in a large grand white house. When he met her, she was in danger from a terrible man. Lord Farthington stole her away to protect her. Already laden with child, Dinah gave birth to Mary early while traveling to New Sussex without the aid of a midwife and only the ship's physician who was inexperienced in such matters. Mary was born at sea and was counted a miracle because she was born so small but was strong. Lord Farthington told her how he laughed in spite of himself at the strength of the grip of her little hand on his thumb. He named her Mary because it meant "sea of bitterness" and "hoped for child." Dinah died soon after childbirth, slipping into a deep contented sleep after the difficult delivery. Lord Farthington had told her this story many times, lulling her to sleep with descriptions of her mother's strength, beauty and kindness. Mary longed for anything connected to the woman that haunted her dreams.

"Do you know what would please me exceedingly, little one?" Lord Farthington asked, his green eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled gently down at her. "I would be ever so grateful if you would do me the honor of stitching this cloth for me. You can practice your stitching on this and whenever we are parted again, I will keep it in my breast pocket so that you will be near me."

Mary sadly obliged, taking the white handkerchief from him before receiving another gentle kiss on the cheek. Mary would never forget the gentleness of Lord Farthington's refusal nor the sadness her childlike heart felt watching his ship depart that morning. As she grew in maturity, she began to understand the nature of Lord Farthington's work and his refusal to bring her with him on his missions. However, she was afforded the opportunity of touring Europe with her guardian upon her 16th birthday. Their travels during those eight months were among her favorite memories; the excitement of a young woman encountering the great wide world for the first time was forever imprinted in her mind.

During her reverie, Mary had soon abandoned the cold tree stump to wonder around the edge of the lake, her eyes fixed on the quiet waters almost unseeing. As she neared the glade that bordered one side of the lake, she did not notice the sound of hoof beats quickly approaching. Suddenly, a great brown horse was before Mary, rearing back on its hind legs nearly unseating its rider. In a panic, Mary cried out, shielding her face with her hands as she fell back onto the cold damp earth. For his part, the rider of the great beast was equally astonished, not expecting to encounter anyone by the lake on a winter morning, much less a young lady. Quickly dismounting his horse, he hurried to the young woman's side.

"Forgive me, madam. Are you hurt?" the man asked as he knelt beside her.

"No, I am quite alright," Mary replied as she struggled to catch her breath. "I do require your assistance in standing."

"Of course," he replied before gently taking her arm and lifting her to her feet. He tried to get a look at the woman's face, but her bent head and bonnet prevented him.

Mary busied herself with brushing off her now wet gown and regaining her composure before confronting the man who had nearly trampled her.

"Let me offer my sincerest apologies once again, my lady," the man replied bowing low as he took one of her gloved hands into his. "The fault is all mine as my foolhardy and reckless riding endangered you. Allow me..." the man paused as he rose and met her face. He flushed slightly at the sight of Mary as if surprised at her countenance.

Mary's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the stranger, who was not so foreign after all. Mary could not forget the deep blue laughing eyes nor the unruly black curls of the man before her. He appeared even more handsome than in his portrait, a few years adding a pleasing refinement to his features.

"I accept your apologies, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I too was not aware of my surroundings and I fear I nearly caused you injury by frightening your horse so."

Colonel Fitzwilliam started at her use of his name. He had not recalled meeting the lady before, as he was sure that he would not have so quickly forgotten a face as pretty or a voice as pleasing as hers.

"Forgive me, ma'am. I did not realize that we had the pleasure of meeting before. My deepest apologies for my rudeness," the Colonel released her hand, a fine blush spreading over his face.

"No need for apologies, Colonel Fitzwilliam. We have not met formally; it is just that... I am acquainted with your face from a likeness I have recently seen. Let me introduce myself. My name is Mary Caroline Farthington. I reside at Pemberley and am in the guardianship of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. I have been in residence here for just under a month." Mary replied before favoring the Colonel with another smile.

"It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Miss Farthington," the Colonel bowed again before shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another.

"Well, it has been a pleasure formally making your acquaintance, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and while I do enjoy your company, I must soon return to the house. I fear that the cold is becoming too much for me, especially given the dampness of my gown."

"Forgive me for my rudeness, madam. Would you allow me the pleasure of escorting you to the house?"

Mary nodded her assent and shivered unconsciously. She had been out of doors far too long and began to question the wisdom of her morning jaunt. She was not accustomed to such frigid temperatures, but her longing for fresh air had overridden her better judgment. Mr. Darcy's warning to her a few hours before began to ring in her ears.

"Allow me," the Colonel divested himself of his overcoat before placing it around Mary's shoulders. Mary made to protest but the Colonel would not hear of it.

"I am flattered by your concern for my health, Miss Farthington, but I am an old army man and I am quite accustomed to facing the extremities. Furthermore, my carelessness is the reason for your damp state and I would never forgive myself if you caught cold."

"Thank you, sir," Mary replied as she lowered her head and brought his coat tight around her shoulders. The Colonel's coat had the smell of musk which Mary found both comforting and unsettling.

"Miss Farthington, should we begin our journey to the house?"

"Yes, yes. I am sure they are wondering after my absence as it grows quite near the luncheon hour." Mary took two steps forward and winced noticeably in pain. She had presumed herself uninjured at her ability to stand, but the effort of walking pained her left ankle greatly.

"You are hurt, Miss Farthington," the Colonel exclaimed, his eyes widened in worry as he took her right arm.

"No, it is only a trifle, I am sure that I can make it unassisted," Mary replied with a weak smile. She attempted another two steps before crying out in earnest and leaning heavily on the Colonel.

"No, no this will not do," the Colonel stated firmly, his voice beginning to take on the command of his rank. "You must permit me to place you upon my horse, Miss Farthington. The house is two miles off at least; an impossible distance for you to go on in this manner. I will walk beside you and hold the reigns."

Mary gasped both at the mention of being carried by the Colonel and the suggestion of riding the Colonel's horse. Mary had no experience upon horses, never having proper lessons and she was somewhat shaken by her first encounter with the great animal. She began to think of how she could get home by other means. It was too cold and her gown too wet to for her to wait there by the lake while he rode for assistance. It was indeed too far for him to carry her and to arrive at Pemberley clutched in the Colonel's arms would cause quite a stir, not to mention that the very idea caused her even more alarm. Mary returned her look to the Colonel, her brow knit with worry. He simply smiled in return, the act rendering his face even more handsome. Mary quickly returned her gaze to the horse and then back to the Colonel.

"How frightfully rude of me," the Colonel began, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "You have not been properly introduced. Beauregard, may I have the honor of introducing you to Miss Farthington," the Colonel bowed with a flourish as he led the horse toward a frightened Mary.

"Miss Farthington, may I introduce you to my faithful stead Beauregard. Although he may snort and stomp a fine show, dear lady, he is the most gentle of creatures."

Mary eyed the Colonel warily, not fooled by his attempt at humor, to which he replied with a wide disarming smile. "You may pet him, if it pleases you Miss Farthington. He is quite harmless and a perfect gentleman."

The Colonel gently stroked Beauregard's side to demonstrate the safety of the action. Glancing at him timidly, Mary reached out a tentative hand to the horse. Mary's fear began to give way to delight as she gently stroked Beauregard's side, enjoying the feel of the animal's soft hair underneath her glove. The Colonel laughed gently, causing Mary to favor him with a shy smile.

"Miss Farthington, I think I have come to a solution for our dilemma. I will place you on Beauregard and I will ride in the saddle behind you guiding the reigns and insuring that you do not take a tumble. I can see no other reasonable option at the time. Does this arrangement suit you?"

Mary averted her glance, looking in the direction of the house. While the prospect of riding Beauregard frightened her, the idea of being in such close proximity to the Colonel worried her. She already found herself responding to him in a most unfamiliar way and wanted to err on the side of propriety. However, riding with the Colonel was her best option. Surely, no one could view it as improper but rather as a prudent decision given the circumstances.

"Alright, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I can see the wisdom in such an action. Now comes the matter of my mounting your horse." Mary turned her head to Beauregard, his height intimidating her once more. She doubted her ability to mount him with any grace.

Smiling gently, the Colonel placed his hands firmly around her waist and blushed at her sudden intake of breath. Giving her words of reassurance, he lifted her with little trouble onto Beauregard and swiftly took his place behind her. Mary was too frightened to be alarmed by the closeness of the Colonel or by the warmth of his hands as he gently released her fingers from the reigns so that he might guide the horse. It was not until Beauregard set off at a gentle trot that Mary had the opportunity to notice the closeness of the Colonel as the jolt of the horse's movement sent her back against him. He instinctively closed one arm around her as he guided the horse with the other.

After a few minutes, Mary's nerves calmed, reassured by the gentle pace of the creature and the Colonel's adeptness as a horseman. Riding with her legs to one side in the fashion of a lady, Mary found that she had nestled closely to the colonel, her check pressed against his chest and her arms circled about him. Mary's cheeks warmed at the realization; she was heartily ashamed of her foolish fear that led her to such an impropriety. Mary quickly moved to put some distance between them, raising her head and releasing her arms from around his waist. Instantly, Mary missed the warmth of the Colonel and the comforting firmness of his chest. Mary tentatively raised her eyes to view the Colonel, worried at his reaction to her behavior. His eyes claimed hers as his lips curved into another disarming smile. Their eyes locked for several moments before Mary turned away to look down the path before them.

"See, Miss Farthington, your fears are quite unfounded. Beauregard is indeed a gentle beast and you are quite safe here beside me," the Colonel offered, trying to break the tension that had settled around them like a dense fog.

"Yes, you were quite right, Colonel." Mary murmured in a low tone.

Undaunted by the sparseness of Mary's reply, the Colonel ventured for an easier avenue of conversation. "So, Miss Farthington, where did you call home before you came to Pemberley?"

"I lived on the isle of New Sussex in the Caribbean, sir. It is there where I lived all my life until now."

"New Sussex, you say? I believe that I am familiar with that island. During my last deployment about a year ago, our ship docked briefly on the island to refresh our provisions. From the short time I was there, I found it to be a most handsome place. I particularly remember the whiteness of the sand and the purity of the water. The water was so clear that a man could stand waist deep and see his boots as clearly as if he were on dry ground."

Mary turned to look up at the Colonel, her interest immediately piqued at the mention of her beloved home. She was quite surprised that he should know of New Sussex and the Colonel immediately found some favor with her. They chatted about New Sussex and shared their experiences of crossing the Atlantic before they arrived at the house. Mary had soon forgotten her fear and discomfort, so enthralled by the Colonel's easy conversation. When they had reached the front steps, Colonel Fitzwilliam jumped down from Beauregard and passed the reigns to a waiting servant. Mary immediately missed the warmth of the Colonel and regretted that their ride had come to an end.

"May I help you down, my lady?" the Colonel asked, his voice once again taking on a playful tone.

Mary smiled down at the Colonel, who was bent in a comical obsequious bow. "Yes, kind sir. Your assistance would be most appreciated."

The Colonel gently placed Mary on the ground before whispering to her, "I know what I am about to ask may shock your gentle sensibilities, but I only ask as you are hurt and are in no condition to climb the stairs. May I have permission to carry you into the house?"

Mary nodded, having realized that it would come to this. Someone would have to carry her in or arrange a brier to assist her. As she did not want to cause an unnecessary stir in the house and did not look favorably on attempting the stairs on her own, Mary resigned herself to the fact that such an action would be necessary. She only hoped that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy would not be cross with her for becoming injured and being placed in such a compromising situation.

Colonel Fitzwilliam lifted Mary with little effort, carrying her as one would a babe, her arms clasped around his neck for support. Mary was mortified anew at their increased closeness, heat rushing to her cheeks as she looked everywhere but at the Colonel. Their entrance into the foyer caused quite a commotion, as Mr. Thomas, the butler, had rushed to announce his arrival and the condition of Miss Farthington. Georgiana was the first to hurry into the space, her feelings torn between concern for her injured friend and delight at the arrival of her favorite cousin. Close on her heels were Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth.

"Cousin Richard! Mary! Mr. Thomas said that you were injured on the grounds! Are you alright? What happened? Do you need a doctor?" Georgiana questioned rapidly as she flew to Mary's side.

Mary's mortification gave way to her friend's sincere concern and she ventured a weak smile. "Georgiana, it is nothing to worry about. I was just startled by Colonel Fitzwilliam's horse and fell injuring my ankle. It is nothing really, merely a trifle. The Colonel has been good enough to see me here safely, and for that he has my sincere gratitude." Mary turned to smile warmly at the Colonel whom she found staring down at her intently. Mary returned his gaze before flushing inwardly and looking to her worried friend.

Georgiana sighed with relief as Darcy and Elizabeth entered the foyer in haste.

"Welcome, cousin. I see that you have managed to make quite an entrance as usual." Darcy greeted coolly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Greetings, Darcy. It is a pleasure to be at Pemberley again, although my entrance was not what I first intended. It would appear that I happened upon a fairy on the road and having injured her delicate ankle, I am now bid to carry her to safety," Fitzwilliam replied with a mischievous grin, attempting unsuccessfully to set aside his cousin's anger with humor. Darcy merely replied with a scowl.

"We are grateful for your assistance to Mary, Richard. No matter the nature of your entrance, you are most welcome," Elizabeth answered stepping forward to greet her cousin as she shot her husband an annoyed glance. "I believe we should send for a doctor for Mary. No matter how much you attest to your wellness, I would have your ankle properly seen to. Richard, would you be so good as to carry Mary to her room? Georgiana and I will show you the way."

Looking over the Colonel's shoulder as they ascended the stairs, Mary could see that Mr. Darcy was not pleased at the recent turn of affairs. Mortification took her anew as she was most desirous of his good opinion in all things. She was also troubled at the idea that she may have caused the Colonel to be looked on unfavorably by his cousin. She silently cursed herself for allowing herself to be so lost in her thoughts that she was insensible to all around her. If only she had been more careful.

"Here we are, Miss Farthington," Colonel Fitzwilliam began as he entered her chamber following Georgiana and Elizabeth. "I have delivered you safely to your abode as intended."

"Thank you," Mary managed as the Colonel gently placed her onto a settee by the fireplace.

"It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Miss Farthington, although I wish it had been under more pleasant circumstances," the Colonel ventured with a slight smile.

"The pleasure was mine, as well. I...do apologize for startling your horse so. I did not mean to be the cause of such commotion or to kindle any anger in Mr. Darcy towards you," Mary began as she looked at the Colonel intently.

"You take too much upon yourself, Miss Farthington. I must have all the blame, take none for yourself. And do not trouble yourself with Darcy, I know my cousin well. He is merely protective of those in his care and his anger will pass when he is assured that you are well. Speaking of my dear cousin, I should speak to him now. Georgiana, Elizabeth, Miss Farthington, I take my leave of you." The Colonel bowed to each lady in turn before making his way for the door.

"Cousin Richard," Elizabeth called as he reached the door. "Thank you again for your care of Mary. It is most appreciated."

Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded before heading down the corridor in search of his cousin.

The Colonel found Darcy sitting in the library in expectation of his arrival. Standing to greet his cousin, Darcy clasped Fitzwilliam on the shoulder in salute.

"Cousin, it has been far too long since I last saw you." Fitzwilliam began, taking a seat across from him.

"And I you, Fitzwilliam. While I am delighted at your arrival, I am curious to the manner of your entrance. You are three days early without so much as a trunk at your disposal. Not to mention the affair with Miss Farthington."

"Well, I found myself able to slip away from the regiment earlier than previously expected and so I took the opportunity to surprise you all with an early arrival. It is not as if Pemberley is ever unprepared for a guest!" Fitzwilliam smiled good naturedly, knowingly indulging Darcy's pride in the management of his estate.

Noting his cousin's acceptance of this excuse, Fitzwilliam continued in a more sober tone. "It has been a long two years, dear cousin, two years that have given me a particular longing to be with my family. When I last saw you, I did not envy you at all, despite your fortune and felicity in marriage to such an excellent woman. So many responsibilities were laid at your feet, so many lives tied to the correctness of your decisions or the whim of your conscious. Yet now I would trade the freedom of bachelorhood for your happy chains of family life."

At this Fitzwilliam rose and poured himself a glass of brandy before positioning himself by the fireplace. He could not begin to describe the events of the last two years to Darcy. Although they had shared everything throughout their years, his deployment had brought with it memories and experiences that irrevocably altered him. Although he tried to present himself as the same sly charmer of his youth, age and experience had sobered him, bringing in him a longing for a more peaceful and settled life. He desired a family and a reason for living beyond the will of the Crown or the pleasures of the flesh.

"Happy chains of family life? Why, Fitzwilliam, what has overcome you? You talk quite like a man in need of a wife." Darcy ventured in surprise and in sincere concern for his friend.

Fitzwilliam turned to face his cousin, favoring Darcy with a sad smile before taking another sip of brandy. "Do not trouble yourself, dear cousin. Nothing has overcome me other than the maturity a man attains by living out in the world. I am quite myself, just a tad bit wiser, I suppose. You are correct in assuming that my thoughts have turned lately to taking a wife. But this inclination in no different that of any other man my age. I am nearly four and thirty! Not to mention the charge my father nearly daily reminds me of. As the lesser son of an earl, my future is tied to marrying well. Although I begin to think that I'd be just as pleased with the life of a simple commoner if I was as equally blessed in matrimony as you are, dear Cousin."

Here Fitzwilliam paused, studying his glass of brandy. He thought of Elizabeth and how she had first enchanted him at Rosings Park with her bold almost impertinent nature and beautiful eyes. The same nagging question that he had debated these past five years taunted him once more: If he had cast aside family expectations and asked for the hand of Elizabeth, the daughter of a poor country gentleman, would he now know the happiness so evident in Darcy?

A pregnant silence settled over the room, causing both men to fidget uncomfortably. Fitzwilliam looked his cousin over intently, before deciding to change the subject.

"This talk of wives recalls to mind my injured fairy," Fitzwilliam began, resuming his seat. "So, Darcy, tell me more about Miss Farthington. The lady tells me that you are her guardian and just lately made so, at that!"

"Miss Mary Farthington," Darcy began, his lips pursed in a tight line. He had almost forgotten his cousin's memorable entrance. "I wonder what there is left for you to know. You seem to be well acquainted with the lady already!"

Fitzwilliam laughed at his cousin's renewed anger. "Come Darcy, it is not at all as bad as that. What I and the lady told you is the sum total of our encounter. I was riding off of the designated road, reacquainting myself with the grounds when I came upon Miss Farthington. I admit that I was quite caught up in my own thoughts and gave no notice of the lady until I was upon her. My horse reared back, frightening the lady. She fell, injured her ankle and I rode with her back to the house to seek aid. That, dear cousin, is the total of our acquaintance although I admit that the lady was already familiar with my name and face whereas I had no knowledge of her."

Appeased by Fitzwilliam's plain account of his dealings with Miss Farthington, Darcy's parental instincts were subdued for the time being. As they were in communication regarding all matters, Darcy began to acquaint the Colonel with all he knew regarding Mary, including her relation to Lord Farthington, Mr. Bramble's letter and finally Lord Farthington's request.

"That is amazing, Darcy. Doubling your wealth in one turn and acquiring a new charge? This Lord Farthington must certainly think highly of you, and I dare say his trust is not misplaced. Although I wonder at the urgency for guardianship, for Miss Farthington appears to be quite an accomplished and mature woman. These attributes on top of her fortune would make her quite the eligible lady if not for..."

"Yes, which is precisely why Lord Farthington sought proper guardianship for the lady," Darcy began cutting him off. "We both know what befalls young ladies of fortune who are improperly protected." Darcy relinquished his seat to poke nervously at the logs in the fireplace.

"Come cousin," Fitzwilliam replied coming to stand beside him. "You mustn't always torture yourself over Georgiana. We had no way of knowing Wickham's scheme and you ultimately prevented the disastrous elopement. And Georgiana, she has turned out most wonderfully; I believe she has quite recovered from the scoundrel."

Darcy sighed, casting aside the poker and leaning on the mantelpiece. "Yes, you are right, Fitzwilliam. What is done is done and there is no need to continue to dwell in the past."

"Good, good," Fitzwilliam answered slapping Darcy on the back before resuming the activity that Darcy had just relinquished.

A knock was soon heard at the door as a maid arrived to announce the serving of luncheon. Darcy and Fitzwilliam happily made their way to the dining room. Fitzwilliam was eager to speak with his dear cousin Georgiana and to suffer the gentle teasing of Elizabeth. He was also hoping to converse with Miss Farthington once again.

Fitzwilliam was somewhat crestfallen to find that Mary could not join them and that Georgiana chose to sup with her in her quarters as they awaited the arrival of the doctor. However, Elizabeth's report that she believed Mary had only suffered a minor sprain comforted him.

"It appears that your regimentals suit you after all, Richard," Elizabeth teased, her brow raised in challenge. "You have been Mary's knight in shining red armor, plucking hapless damsels in distress from the jaws of certain danger."

Fitzwilliam laughed heartily. "A fine knight I make. I cause damsels to be in distress and then conveniently arrive to save them from harm and reap all of the praise!"

Elizabeth laughed in response, warmed to find that the Colonel was still as good natured and charming as he was when they first met. Luncheon passed amicably as Fitzwilliam was soon appraised on all the latest news of their relations, including the birth of Lydia Wickham's third daughter, Mary Bennet's recent engagement to the brother of Charlotte Collins and the recent birth of Jane Bingley's third and fourth child...a pair of twin boys. Soon the arrival of Dr. Edwards interrupted them. Elizabeth excused herself to attend to the doctor and Mary.

Dr. Edwards' examination verified Elizabeth's suspicions that Mary suffered from no more than a minor sprain and that a few days rest would see her well mended. Dr. Edwards advised that Mary avoid putting weight on her ankle and that she rest with it elevated as much as possible. While Mary was relieved that her injury was a minor one, she did not look forward to spending her days resting in her quarters, especially when such a lively house guest had just arrived. Georgiana comforted her, promising to visit her often and take tea with her everyday. Elizabeth also promised to allow little William to spend his mornings with her, if she was up to the challenge.

"Of course, Elizabeth. I would love to have visits from William. I am sure my little shadow would miss his stories terribly otherwise. He is a dear, well behaved child and we shall get along fine. I only worry that he will bore of me," Mary smiled.

"Oh, that could never be, Mary." Georgiana replied. "He loves you best of all."

"Well, not more so than me, I should hope." Elizabeth added eliciting a gasp and blush from Georgiana. Elizabeth laughed at Georgiana's distress. "It is alright, Georgiana. I am only teasing you. I should hope that you could now know when I am speaking in earnest and when I am not."

A knock at the door soon caught their attention. Elizabeth bade the person enter and was surprised to find the Colonel at the door. Georgiana ran to properly greet her favorite cousin and Mary hid her blush behind her hand. Elizabeth noticed Mary's movement with humor, but did not give the reaction much consideration. Colonel Fitzwilliam had managed to charm her, as well when they first met at Rosings with his easy manner and flirtatious attention to her person. Elizabeth was amused to later learn that Darcy had been quite jealous of his cousin and the reactions he was able to elicit from her. Mary's infatuation would soon pass.

"I have come to inquire after the patient," Fitzwilliam smiled as he looked from Elizabeth to Mary. "I trust that you are quite alright?"

"Yes, I am fine, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Let me thank you again for your kindness to me."

The Colonel smiled broadly at her expression of gratitude before Elizabeth excused herself to see to preparations for dinner and to the Colonel's rooms.

"Speak nothing of it, Miss Farthington. I would, however, request one favor from you, well...two favors."

"Of course, Colonel Fitzwilliam, if it is in my power to grant."

"First, would you do me the honor of calling me simply Fitzwilliam? And second, may I have the pleasure of calling upon you each day until you are better?"

"I...I would be happy to oblige you, Fitzwilliam." Mary answered demurely, staring at her hands.

"Thank you, Miss Farthington. I will leave you and Georgiana now. In the excitement of this morning, I had forgotten the weariness of travel. Until dinner, Georgiana," Fitzwilliam bowed to Georgiana before turning to Mary. "And until tomorrow, Miss Farthington."

After Fitzwilliam departed, Georgiana turned to her friend, her face wreathed in smiles. "Is he not the best of cousins, Mary? He looked so handsome in his uniform. You cannot begin to know how happy I am that he has come! Are you not glad to meet him?"

Mary smiled at her friend who was giddy with happiness. Mary had not seen her so animated before, and the sight warmed her. "Yes, Georgiana, I am quite pleased as well."

Chapter 3

Posted on Friday, 15 July 2005

Mary's first few days of recovery were full of good company despite being confined to her quarters. After breakfast on the first day of her recovery, both Colonel Fitzwilliam and little William Bennet called on her. Mary was quite pleased to see them both, William riding on his uncle's shoulders, his face beaming. Mary dismissed her maid April and greeted both of her visitors with a radiant smile.

"Good morning, Fitzwilliam! Good morning, little William. How is my little shadow doing this fine morning?" Mary held her arms open to the child who as soon as his uncle placed him on the ground ran to her embrace.

"Princess Mary, Mama said that you were hurt. Are you feeling better? Promise me you will not die." William exclaimed, looking up at her with wide eyes.

Mary laughed before pulling the child next to her on the couch. "No, William, I assure you that I am well. I merely hurt my ankle, little one, and I have no intention of dying anytime soon."

William grinned widely in response before forsaking his spot on the couch for his more preferred seat in her lap. Mary giggled before wrapping her arms around the little one to hug him anew. Fitzwilliam merely stood by the door, transfixed by the scene before him that made such a scene of domestic felicity. Noticing his gaze, Mary turned to favor him with a smile.

"Fitzwilliam, please have a seat. I have been a terribly rude host to not offer it to you sooner. Would you care for some tea? I shall ask April to bring up a fresh pot."

"Please, do not trouble yourself. I...I merely came to escort young Master William to his princess and to bid you a pleasant morning," he replied before bowing slightly and turning towards the door.

"No, you must stay with us, Uncle Richard. Mary has promised to tell me a story of pirates and sea monsters!" William piped up excitedly. "Princess Mary, you must make him stay, just for a little while."

"That would be up to the Colonel, William. While we may both desire his good company, we mustn't impose on him," Mary corrected.

"It would be no imposition, madam. I would be obliged to stay for a moment. I would hate to disappoint young William." Fitzwilliam paused. "Nor would I wish to disappoint you, Miss Farthington."

Mary's cheeks warmed at his statement, not daring to meet Fitzwilliam's steady gaze. Mary nodded and motioned to a free chair before busying herself with the effort of ringing for her maid. Overjoyed at his uncle's decision to stay, William bounded from Mary's lap to climb onto that of Fitzwilliam. After William's pleading for the story to commence, Mary favored them both with a tale of Greybeard the Pirate who outwitted a sea monster who stood guard over a secret treasure. Mary was pleased with William's unabashed delight and surprised by Fitzwilliam's interest in her story. The Colonel was all smiles during her tale and his applause exceeded that of William when the story was over.

"Well, little Shadow, I believe it is time for you to depart for your morning lessons and that Colonel Fitzwilliam would like to visit more with your father and Aunt Georgiana. So, I bid you ado." Mary kissed William on his head once more and bid him goodbye despite his protests to enjoying her stories far more than Latin.

"Come, come Master William. We must be dutiful soldiers of the crown and do whatever our noble Princess commands," Fitzwilliam ordered rising from his seat to salute Mary, causing a giggle to rise from William.

"So, now I am to be royalty with an army in my command?" Mary asked, unsure if Fitzwilliam meant to mock her.

"Why yes, Miss Farthington. Young William has crowned you thus and after hearing your tales, I must concur with his conclusion. You already have one knight who has pledged fealty to you. Does your heart have room for another?"

The entrance of Georgiana prevented Mary from responding, although Mary could herself form no answer to such a question. Fitzwilliam made his exit with William in tow after greeting his cousin. Georgiana looked after him with a smile before turning to her friend. Worry soon overcame her features as she looked to Mary.

"Mary, are you unwell?" Georgiana asked as she neared her friend's side.

"Yes...I mean no, I am well," Mary replied, smiling gently at her friend who still looked over her worriedly.

"Perhaps you should rest then, Mary. I can call April to assist you to bed..."

"Georgiana," Mary interrupted, "you are a dear, but really there is no need for all of that. I am perfectly fine."

Georgiana finally relented, assured of her friend's health, before launching into a discussion of her excitement over the upcoming Christmastide. Christmas was little more than three weeks away, Georgiana reminded her, and Pemberley would soon be caught up in a whirlwind of Christmas events culminating in the festivities of Twelfth Night. Elizabeth's Georgiana desired to enlist Mary's assistance in visiting the tenants on Christmas Eve to hand out Christmastide baskets filled with candies, sweet meats and all manner of good things. Twelfth Night was to be especially exciting, with a small party of neighboring families from Lambton and bordering estates convening for a day full of merry making. There would be dancing, a fine dinner and sleigh rides preceded by ice skating on the lake. Mary grew excited listening to Georgiana's description of the upcoming festivities, especially the prospect of ice skating. She had never gone ice skating before and was eager to learn, although wary of getting hurt in the process. Georgiana assured her that learning to skate was the simplest thing ever and that she and Fitzwilliam would make excellent teachers.

"This will be one of the first times that we will have the Christmas season all to ourselves. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are spending the holiday in London with the Bingley's and their new twins and Mary and Kitty are staying in Hertfordshire with the Lucas family. I am looking forward to such a quiet holiday," Georgiana concluded with a satisfied sigh.

"And what of the Wickhams? Are they spending the season elsewhere?" Mary inquired, curious about her failure to mention them before.

Georgiana's face fell at the mention of the name Wickham. "Yes, I am afraid so. They always stay at their home in the North for the holidays and will thankfully do so this year."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them as Mary tried to understand what she could have said that caused Georgiana such discomfort. Mary then remembered Georgiana's reaction to the miniature of George Wickham during her first tour of the house. Georgiana had paled noticeably and answered her question in a tight manner wholly unlike her nature. Mary concluded that this Wickham character must be of a bad sort to disjoint Georgiana so. She wondered what he could have possibly done to illicit such sadness and displeasure from her gentle friend.

Colonel Fitzwilliam held true to his word, visiting Mary the next three days of her recovery, always with little William in tow. He'd listen attentively to her stories before thanking her and favoring her with a bow after the conclusion of each tale. Mary wondered at his attention to her stories and grew flattered by his compliments. After each visit, Mary felt a small hope growing within her that the Colonel could possibly favor her. She had long admitted to herself that the gentleman held a certain attraction. He was handsome, kind, easily elicited laughter from her and was very attentive, always concerned for her health and comfort during his visits.

Slowly, the sadness that had held her captive since her father's passing gave way to a secret longing that Mary found both alarming and painful. This longing was alarming in that it was completely new and foreign to her. Mary had never been long in the company of eligible gentlemen, forever surrounded by maids, governesses and the protective watch of Lord Farthington. She hardly knew how one went about the business of infatuation or how to tell if a gentleman's attentions were genuine or merely platonic in nature. This longing was also painful in that it unearthed an entire set of insecurities that Mary had never dealt with. Every possible obstacle to a union between herself and the Colonel presented itself as soon as she realized her growing attachment. Their age difference was one concern. He was nearly four or five and thirty while Mary was yet twenty years in age. Surely he must view her more as a child than as an eligible lady. Her experiences were so limited and unvarying while he had traveled all over the globe and studied at the finest university in the world. Then there was her social status. Mary was rich to be sure, but would the son of an earl seriously consider uniting himself with the daughter of a black slave who had no idea who her blood father was? All of these doubts and objections soon served to dampen the small flame of love that began to burn within her. Mary concluded that Colonel Fitzwilliam's attentions were merely of a friendly nature. Yes, her reason would forever rule over her foolish heart.

However, daily afternoon visits from Georgiana did little to support the conclusions of Mary's mind; they only added fuel to her nascent affection. While Georgiana delighted in informing Mary of the entire goings on of Pemberley, conversation rarely strayed too far from the subject of Colonel Fitzwilliam with Georgiana keeping her abreast of every action of the gentleman, including his every inquiry after Mary's health or person.

Despite the limited nature of their conversations, Mary was pleased at the chance to grow closer to her dear friend. Mary was particularly touched by Georgiana's attentiveness to her during her recovery. Not only would Georgiana take tea with her, but Mary was often favored with visits late at night after most of the house had gone to bed. Mary would be alerted by a soft knock on the door after which Georgiana would scamper into the room, blushing furiously as if she were breaking the law.

"Georgiana, you look positively guilty of some crime, sneaking in here at this hour!" Mary teased her upon the first late night visit.

Georgiana giggled, before taking a seat on the bed next to her. "Oh, but I am, Mary. My brother would be positively livid if he knew I was up and about at this hour."

Mary laughed incredulously as she slid over to give Georgiana more room. "I should think your brother was too concerned with other matters such as running Pemberley and disciplining young William to worry about your bedtime. Why Georgiana, you are one and twenty, a grown woman, not one to be babied!"

Georgiana nodded sadly. "Yes, I share your opinion, surely I do! But, what is to be done? I cannot simply beg for him to treat me as an adult, which in itself has all the appearance of immaturity. I confess that I do not believe Fitzwilliam will ever view me as a true adult until I am married with children of my own."

Mary sighed before grinning mischievously and poking Georgiana in the side. "Then, I suppose we will have to get you married off!"

Georgiana and Mary broke out in peals of laughter at the idea before venturing to propose possible suitors.

"How about Mr. Brambles, Mary. I take it he is without a wife and sufficiently mature enough to please my brother," Georgiana offered, barely suppressing a laugh.

"Oh, come now. He is nearly old enough to be your grandfather. I also hear that he prefers, redheads, dear Georgiana, so I fear that you are out of luck." Mary replied laughingly.

"Hmmm, what about Parson Geoffries?" Georgiana replied. "Surely he is in need of a wife to help him run the parish and guide the ladies in upright living. Perhaps he would be a suitable match?"

"Parson Geoffries? Heavens, no. Georgiana, you neglect one quality the wife of the parson must possess," Mary replied struggling to affect a serious tone. Georgiana raised one eyebrow in question. "She must be very virtuous and have a great love of hearing sermons before bedtime!"

Georgiana laughed, accusing her of wickedness before they settled in a comfortable silence.

"What about Colonel Fitzwilliam? He is amiable and already has the Darcy family mark of approval," Mary ventured, breaking the silence.

"No, Colonel Fitzwilliam will not do, either. I am sure he sees me as quite a little sister more so than anything else..."Georgiana paused as she looked at her hands intently. "However, that would not prevent you, Mary." Georgiana teased, quickly recovering her humor.

"Oh, but the Colonel would not have me, Georgiana, I am sure," Mary laughed nervously.

"Mary, why would you say that?" Georgiana inquired, concern etched on her face. "I am sure that any gentleman of consequence would favor you as a bride."

"Yes, Georgiana, but my connections, my...my parentage? What of these? When I learned that I was to be sent to England after my father's death, I soon made peace with the fact that I would most likely never marry. Luckily his generosity ensured that I would never be forced into being a governess or a servant. The best I have hoped for is a life as a single woman."

Georgiana sat in silence for some moments, watching her friend closely who had resigned herself to a life alone. To never marry or know the joys of motherhood was a fate she had never contemplated. She supposed that perhaps one could live such a life with joy. To be a woman free from familial obligation and in possession of a fortune could be quite freeing. To think that one could simply live for oneself and make one's own destiny. Georgiana began to think that such a life might not be so foreboding. However, Georgiana could see that Mary did not share her opinion and that her resignation to a life of spinsterhood, as some would call it, was met with sadness and regret instead of hope.

"I suppose that what you say is true," Georgiana began. "But what about love, Mary? How could connections, parentage or society stand against the force of a man and a woman who are deeply in love? I am convinced that such a love is not just a thing of fairy tales and feminine fantasies. I have seen it realized in my brother's love for Elizabeth. By all accounts the daughter of a poor landowner with no connections should never have dreamed of marrying a man like Fitzwilliam."

Mary looked up at Georgiana in surprise. She had assumed that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy had begun as equals and that Elizabeth was a lady of high breeding given her confidence and skillful management of an estate such as Pemberley. Georgiana smiled and nodded in affirmation.

"Do not give up so easily on a life of happiness, Mary. You are accomplished, beautiful, in possession of a good fortune and untainted by scandal..."Georgiana paused, her cheeks flushing slightly, "I am sure that I shall see you married before myself."

Georgiana and Mary spent the rest of the night conversing happily on other subjects, sharing stories of their childhoods and memories of their fathers. They soon found that they had much in common, despite growing up on opposite sides of the Atlantic. They had both had similar childhood stories of mischievous adventures, unwanted pianoforte lessons and difficulties mastering the quadrille. Some three hours later, the pair parted for welcome sleep.

On the fifth afternoon of her recovery, Mary sat curled up with a book by the fireplace, her injured ankle elevated on a cushion. Mary's choice for that afternoon was a weathered copy of Paradise Lost. The volume had belonged to Lord Farthington and his father before him and was now one of her most treasured possessions. Mary sat fingering the fine leather spine laced with gold etching when she was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come in, please," Mary called, resting the book on her lap.

"Good afternoon, Mary!" Elizabeth greeted brightly as she entered the room, two large volumes clutched to her chest. "I have raided the library, for you Mary. I know how much you like to read and I thought your injury would allow you the opportunity to sample more of Fitzwilliam's library."

Mary returned the pleasant greeting, happy to have a chance to converse with Elizabeth and equally enchanted by the prospect of a new book. Elizabeth handed the two volumes to Mary before taking a seat across from her.

"‘The Confessions of Saint Augustine and ‘Evelina; or, The History of a Young Lady's Entrance into the World'," Mary read aloud before looking to Elizabeth questioningly.

"I thought that perhaps you may be interested in reading a little philosophy and theology. My younger sister, with whom you share a name, took great pride in reading much theology," Elizabeth sad with a wry smile. "I confess that Fordyce held little beauty for me and of her suggestions for my reading Augustine was the only author that I truly enjoyed. As for the other volume, that one is from my personal collection. I perceive that you are a young woman on whom the delights of satire will not be lost."

"Thank you, Elizabeth," Mary replied as she placed the volumes on the table. "I shall read them as soon as may be."

"Good, I hope that you enjoy them and that in a few days time you'll be able to forage through Pemberley's massive library on your own once more. When I first came to be here, the library was my favorite place," Elizabeth began as her face took on a wistful look. "I'd spend hours there combing the shelves for books to devour. There were so many that at first I was overwhelmed!"

"I should like to explore those shelves myself in a few days time," Mary replied.

"Indeed you shall," Elizabeth smiled good naturedly. After dismissing April, Elizabeth turned to Mary, regarding her gently before proposing a question. "I hope that you have not found your confinement too, shall we say, confining?"

"No, not at all," Mary replied eagerly. "I find that I do not want for amusement or visitors. Georgiana has brought me some thread and needles for embroidery and she visits me, often twice a day. Sometimes she joins me for Colonel Fitzwilliam's visits with William. The Colonel is so kind to visit me so often, he has never missed a morning story and as I was surprised by his interest in children's tales, I find that I enjoy his company a great deal. I often wonder how little William will cope once the Colonel leaves, as he is quite taken with his uncle and Fitzwilliam is so easy with him. You'd hardly know the two had been separated for two years!"

Elizabeth started at Mary's speech, a mild look of surprise spreading across her features. Unbeknownst to Mary, despite all her reasoning against the likelihood of an attachment between herself and the gentleman, her countenance when speaking of him had all the looks of a woman completely infatuated. She involuntarily smiled a most becoming grin and her eyes became more lively and animated.

"So, Colonel Fitzwilliam has visited with you every morning?" Elizabeth pressed, one eyebrow arched in thought. "That is quite kind of Richard. Tell me, how do you find him?"

"Fitzwilliam?" Mary questioned in turn. "Well, I...I find that he is an amiable man who is both kind and witty. He is all smiles and politeness and can carry a conversation with more ease than I have seen in most other men of my acquaintance. I confess that I can find little to dislike about the Colonel's behavior or appearance."

"Yes, Richard is all charm and gallantry. Few women could be immune to such pretty words as flow from his tongue or such devoted attentions," Elizabeth replied dryly before pausing a few moments in thought. "Tell me Mary, has Colonel Fitzwilliam ever visited you alone?"

Mary's cheeks warmed; alarmed at the turn the conversation was taking. "No, he has not. The Colonel escorts young William to my sitting room each morning to hear my stories. April attends me during these visits and sometimes Georgiana joins us as well. It...it is all quite innocent, Elizabeth. If...if I have done anything improper..."

"No, Mary, you mistake my intention," Elizabeth interrupted leaning forward to place a hand over Mary's. "I did not mean to suggest any impropriety on your part or that of the Colonel's. I...I merely seek to offer you some sisterly advice. Though you are nineteen, Mary, you are yet young to society and the attentions of gentleman. The effect Fitzwilliam has on you has not gone unnoticed by me. I have noticed the turn of your countenance when speaking of him and the modest blushes and looks when he is present."

At this Mary looked away, lowering her head in embarrassment. Had her feelings been that evident, even before she was sure of them herself? Mary began to feel as if she were a silly school girl and chastised herself inwardly. If Elizabeth had noticed such things, surely Colonel Fitzwilliam had.

"Mary," Elizabeth said gently as she moved to sit on the settee beside her. "What I say to you now is out of the most sisterly concern. It is not a judgment on your character, for you are one of the sweetest and most honest persons of my acquaintance. Do not let the Colonel's charms so easily claim your affections. Many a young woman has been charmed by an officer in regimentals, including my younger sisters...and myself."

Elizabeth paused to see the effect of her words. She was relieved to see that Mary displayed neither mortification nor anger at her advice but sat listening to her attentively. Elizabeth smiled warmly and squeezed Mary's hand before continuing.

"When I first met my husband's cousin over six years ago, I too was affected by his easy manners and attentions. I believe Mr. Darcy even had cause to be jealous...but that was months before I came to love Darcy as I do now. However, I knew that Fitzwilliam's obligations and lack of wealth would prevent those flirtations from maturing into anything more. I do not mean to suggest that Fitzwilliam is to blame, for he cannot help his friendly nature and it is always done in the most innocence."

Mary regarded Elizabeth for a few moments, surprised and somewhat saddened by her speech. The objections and doubts crafted by her mind returned to assault her heart anew.

"I believe you say these things because you are afraid of my pledging my heart only to have it broken. But, let me assure you, Elizabeth that my heart is not in danger. It is forever ruled by my good sense. Yet, I thank you for your advice. I...I know it was most kindly given and I will consider it thoughtfully."

Elizabeth smiled sadly. "Well, I am glad to hear it. However, I came to visit with another purpose in mind. I wanted to talk to you about preparing for the season."

"The season? We are to leave for London already?" Mary questioned, somewhat saddened to be quitting Pemberley so soon.

"Yes, but not until after Twelfth Night. We will arrive in London at the start of the season with the entire family and Colonel Fitzwilliam. It can be quite overwhelming with all of the social obligations. There will be dinners, balls, breakfasts, plays and operas to attend. There will be so much for you to experience. For my part, I could do without so many balls and polite visits with acquaintances. However, I do take delight in making sport of our neighbors and the season provides so many opportunities for that," Elizabeth laughed to herself.

Mary's eyes grew wide; her slight vexation over their previous topic of conversation fading in comparison to her anxiety over the season. She was not yet prepared to experience the season, assuming that her winter and spring would pass uneventfully at Pemberley. She thought of all the balls and dinners with some concern. "I fear that my wardrobe may not be sufficient for so many events, Elizabeth."

"Do not worry, Mary. The tailor and seamstress will be arriving in a few days so that you can have some new dresses. You will soon have so many gowns that you will lack trunks to transport them in!"

Elizabeth and Mary laughed lightly before embarking on a long discussion about the season in London, Elizabeth sharing her experiences of her first introduction to London society as Mrs. Darcy including amusing stories about flamboyant ladies in draped in orange with gaudy feather adorned turbans. So they passed the next full hour before Elizabeth was called away to help settle a dispute between two housemaids. Her maid April arrived soon after Elizabeth's departure.

"This has just arrived for you, miss," April announced as she handed a letter to Mary.

Mary read the name on the missive in relief, "It is from Mr. Brambles! I had wondered when he'd remember to write. Thank you, April."

Continued In Next Section