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Now he wondered what might have happened to Elizabeth. He had no doubt that she was the mysterious lady who was with Caldhart when he died. He lost no opportunity in planning a trip to town, and engaging the help of an investigator.

He did not ask the man to find the whereabouts of Miss Chantal Moreau. Rather, he told him he was hoping to find a Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He explained the she was an acquaintance of his from several years past, and he wished to renew the friendship. However, he was unsure of how he might be received, so rather than call upon her family himself, he wished to find out if the lady was still unmarried, where she currently resided etc. He provided the names of her family and location in Hertfordshire, as well as the names of her aunt and uncle and their street in London.

Less than a week later, the investigator, Mr. Smith, reported that Miss Bennet had in fact, disappeared almost a year earlier. Her family was deeply disturbed at her unexplained absence and was known to have launched a full scale search which had yielded few results. They were still looking for her, or any word of her whereabouts.

Darcy could not help the look of surprise and worry upon his face when told Elizabeth had gone missing. He asked Mr. Smith to investigate Miss Bennet’s disappearance more thoroughly. Any information that could be uncovered was to be reported, no detail omitted. When Mr. Smith was finally gone, Darcy fretted.

He was unwilling to meet with the Gardiner’s for fear his liaison with Elizabeth would somehow be revealed. He also knew that disclosing his meeting with her at the ball, besides bringing her family shame (considering what her situation had been that night) could also possibly connect her with his Lordship’s or Wickham’s demise. He was convinced it would only put her in peril and would not help anyone to discover her current whereabouts.

His largest worry had been his own lack of confidence in his ability to remain composed in front of the Gardiners if they were to inform him of more dire news. He knew he could not hold his emotions in check if they were to tell him anything had happened to her, if she were married, or if her situation with Lord Caldhart had been discovered.

Over the next weeks, Mr. Smith’s further inquiries yielded little results. Darcy travelled often to London to meet with him, always returning quickly to Pemberley to continue his sister’s curriculum. They now knew Miss Bennet had last been seen on the afternoon of May the fourteenth and her family, while still looking for her, did not seem to fear that foul play had been involved. In fact, by small hints here and there, both the investigator and Mr. Darcy began to believe Miss Bennet had purposely run away.

Darcy made a point of visiting his clubs, especially Whites, to see what the current gossip regarding the Caldhart affair was. The infamous betting book proved interesting to say the least. The number of wagers on the evening of the Blakely’s ball was astounding, as were the payouts that had been demanded. There were many more speculative wagers as to the lady, her eminent discovery, and who might next lay claim to her, but none of them had come to fruition, and those bets remained unclaimed. Part of him was disgusted to see Elizabeth’s fate speculated so crudely, but he was equally happy that no man had had the satisfaction of seeing the gossip and guesswork resolved.

It also had not escaped his notice that Lord Robert had in fact died the very night of the ball. He wondered whether Elizabeth had been forced to consummate the relationship before his Lordship’s demise. Without knowing what had become of her, such vain wishes were hardly appropriate; she might now be living under a hundred different circumstances, many of which could be just as dismal as her living with Caldhart.

The thought that Elizabeth might only have been his, filled him with a happiness which could only be described as foolish male ego. He chastised himself inwardly for thinking it and put it out of his mind.

It seemed the current Lord Caldhart was eager to put his father’s sordid past behind him, and there was very little said by any of the gossipers at the clubs on the subject. His Lordship’s household had behaved admirably and information regarding the night of Lord Robert’s death had not been bantered about by the servants. It seemed the newspaper’s articles were truly based on rumour and gossip alone and, without solid facts, the interest had thankfully died away.

One unusual point of note was the discovery some time later that Miss Bennet had disappeared the day before an employee of Mr. Gardiner’s, a Mrs. Johnson, of Johnson’s House of Cigars, also went missing. The investigator was familiar with Johnson’s and told his employer of their excellent reputation as well as their success. He also informed Darcy, it was universally acknowledged that Mrs. Johnson, who ran the shop, was the secret behind the quality of the shop’s product. It seemed the Gardiner family was searching for Mrs. Johnson, as well.

Darcy was curious about this Mrs. Johnson and went himself to visit the shop soon after. He was pleasantly surprised at the interior furnishings of the place, and impressed with Mr. Whitaker, who waited upon him. When queried about his cigar preferences, Darcy was regrettably unable to give much useful information, as he hardly ever partook in them. However, Mr. Whitaker was able to ask him about his taste preferences in foods and, based on those inclinations, had a short made up for him to sample which he truly relished.

While enjoying his cigar, he asked about the proprietress of the shop. He was told Mrs. Johnson, whom the shop was named for, had sadly left them a year before. Darcy extended his condolences for their loss, after which they informed him Mrs. Johnson had been lost to them; not passed on. He inquired if foul play was suspected, but both Mr. Whitaker, and later Toby, coming out from the back room to join the men, informed him that Mr. Gardiner did not believe her to be a victim of any kind.

Toby had felt the loss of Mrs. Johnson greatly. He had become quite attached to the dear old lady, and ever grateful to all she had taught him, and as well as the kindness she had shown in in her shop. Now any opportunity to bemoan his loss was always eagerly taken advantage of. Darcy was taken aback by this boy who was obviously mourning her absence greatly.

“You must have worked with her since you were a small boy, then,” he asked sympathetically.

“Oh, no, Sir. Johnson’s used to be Mr. Merriweather’s shop, and when he retired, Mrs. Johnson took over. She knew Mr. Merriweather for years and he was so happy when she agreed to continue the shop for he didn’t have no sons, ya see, no one to pass his learning on to, but she already had more in her head than he did, and she was kind enough to pass it all on to us before she went missin’.”

“Pass it on?”

“Yeah, she left us a book. Only Mr. Whitaker can read it, course, but she wrote all her secrets for us. Made sure if anything happened to her, we would all know how she done it, and be able to run the shop. We wouldn’t have such a good business if not for her. It was all her and that nose of hers.” There were faint shadows of tears in his eyes as he spoke of his beloved mentor.

“Would it be too much to ask to see this book of which you speak? I promise you I am not here to abscond with your secrets. It is just that your description of this extraordinary lady has piqued my interest and I should like to see the legacy she left behind.” Mr. Whitaker nodded to Toby, who fetched the volume and presented it to the gentleman.

Darcy thumbed through the missive, surprised at the quality of the hand, which was very fine, and the inherent intelligence obvious throughout. He would have loved to study the article thoroughly, but knew such intense scrutiny would sadly not be possible.

“It is exceptional!” he praised sincerely, as he handed it back after only an insufficient minute of perusal. “I suggest you have copies made to preserve the knowledge she has bequeathed you.”

Mr. Whitaker smiled. “An excellent idea, Sir. Thank you! If anything were to happen to this, I’m sure we should be lost. We shall have copies made directly.”

Darcy paid for his box of cigars and went home very puzzled. Neither he, nor later Mr. Smith, could discover the connection between the two women. They wondered if Mrs. Johnson had somehow helped Miss Bennet run away and was even now, helping to hide her. Unfortunately, Mrs. Johnson’s disappearance had been as thorough as the younger lady’s and neither woman could be traced.

With the efforts of the brilliant Mr. Darcy, and the excellent work habits of Mr. Smith, the search that was endeavoured upon could justifiably be compared to the old saying ‘leaving no stone unturned‘. Between the times the Darcys went to London, and the many more individual trips by the brother, an impressive amount of time dedicated to searching for the illusive Miss Elizabeth Bennet had been tallied, albeit unsuccessful. By the time Darcy was finally willing to give up his search, almost a year later, it was only because he was convinced she had left of her own accord, and did not wish to be found.

Over the following years, he did intermittently continue the investigation with Mr. Smith, but she had been far too clever. His results mirrored her family; no trace of Elizabeth Bennet or Mrs. Johnson could ever be found. He kept his ears open to news of various men’s new mistresses, but all the lady’s backgrounds were well known. He was glad of this, and at least told himself that wherever she had gone, it was hopefully to a better life than the one she had almost lived with Lord Robert. He reasoned that until Elizabeth wanted to be found, or word of her whereabouts was heard, there was little he could do.

He continued to give Johnson’s House of Cigars his custom, the young men always welcoming him warmly and speaking affectionately of the dear lady they all admired whenever he visited.

The years during Georgiana’s instruction found the siblings almost always at Pemberley. They rarely ventured to town except for purchases, and the occasional discreet outing to the theatre, concert hall, gallery or museum. They planned their stays to last more not more than a day or two, therefore, before anyone had a chance to call upon them, they were returning to Derbyshire.

When Darcy went to town for purposes of his investigation, he never made his residency in his town home known. He learned to arrive on horseback, late at night and enter through the rear of his home. His carriage arrived separately and was unloaded near the servant’s quarters. He enjoyed the anonymity his subterfuge afforded; he found he never had to bother turning away callers, as they never knew he was there. Eventually, he became quite proficient at stealthily entering and leaving his home.

They completely shunned the Season, and while the rest of society felt put out, Darcy knew, and told his sister as much, that all would be forgiven when they did venture back into society. Two wealthy, eligible Darcys would always be welcomed back with open arms when they returned, he solemnly pointed out with a laugh.

Because of their reclusive nature, social appearances by either Darcy were almost non-existent. Charles Bingley wrote regularly, and Darcy was happy to re-establish correspondence with him. He felt badly about not issuing an invitation to Charles to come to Pemberley, but he and Georgiana had spoken honestly about it, and they knew Bingley would not be able to come without his sisters.

Georgie no longer felt compelled to hold her tongue about "those dreadful women" and she proceeded to give her uninhibited opinion of them both, including deadly accurate and wickedly funny imitations. This caused her brother to laugh until tears were forming at the corner of his eyes, and she happily joined him. The servants were quite used to the lively conversations the master and his sister had and their gay laughter was no longer out the ordinary.

However, in December of the year eighteen fourteen, little more than a twelve month after their self imposed seclusion, Bingley paid a visit to Pemberley, unannounced and thankfully, unaccompanied. He was beginning to doubt Darcy’s existence, he explained, and begged for a room and a brandy. The Darcys welcomed him heartily, and enjoyed a fortnight of his society before he was called away by his sisters in town.

While he was there, Darcy and Georgie suspended all her lessons, but continued to do their estate business together and ride daily, accompanied by Bingley, of course. The evenings spent together were lively and witty and Bingley privately marvelled at how much "little" Georgiana had altered and matured. She still had her sweet and caring side, but the interaction with her brother, as well as the conversations she had with him, were nothing short of astonishing. He wisely kept his observations to himself until the last night of his stay, after she had retired for the night and he and Darcy headed to the library.

There Bingley commented on Georgiana’s remarkable liveliness, grace and wit. Darcy was terribly proud she had made a good impression on Bingley. He knew Charles was the perfect person for her to begin her re-entry into society. She was comfortable with him, and her true self had shone through while he was visiting them.

"Darcy, I do not know what brought her out of her shell, but I think I now understand why you spent so much time crossing wits with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. They are very similar in their turn of minds, their humour and their liveliness, do you not think? You must have seen a kindred spirit to your sister in her. I am glad to see her be able to blossom and reveal her character to the world. You will certainly have your hands full when she is presented. I think she will break many a heart, my friend."

Darcy almost fell off his chair.

“Good God!” he thought. “What revelation! Is that what I am doing; making my own version of Elizabeth?”

He sat stunned for several moments while he quickly considered Bingley’s words. Soon enough he was able to dismiss the notion; it was not true. He and Elizabeth were well matched in most things, and in teaching Georgie to be more like him, it made her similar to Elizabeth. He breathed a large sigh of relief, however he conceded to Bingley that perhaps he did like crossing wits with Elizabeth Bennet.

This now opened a subject Bingley was hesitant to bring up, but he continued on. He confessed to Darcy he planned to return to Netherfield. He had given it a great deal of thought. He had not hidden himself in society since Jane Bennet, but still he had never found a woman her equal, nor had he feelings for anyone else since Jane.

In short, Bingley had come to announce his intentions, not solicit Darcy’s opinion. Bingley had become his own man, and in the year and a half of his friend’s absence, he had begun to trust his own judgement, and was going to follow his heart.

Darcy felt keenly all the shame of his past deception to Charles. He had been unfair, especially when considering his greatest motivation for encouraging Charles to abandon Netherfield was to avoid the company of one Elizabeth Bennet. He decided then and there to correct his error, and confessed all he had done in the past (though he did not mention his interactions with the sister of the object of Bingley‘s affections). He ended his speech with a heartfelt apology and a solemn promise he would never again presume to know what was best for his friend, instead he hoped that someday he and Miss Bennet could find it in their hearts to forgive his arrogance and interference.

He knew he could not tell Bingley about Elizabeth’s fall from grace or her disappearance. The Bennets might very well still be the respectable family of Longbourn they had been two years earlier and Darcy would not ruin the happiness of Jane Bennet or any of her sisters due to anything he would say about Elizabeth.

Bingley stood, mouth agape, hardly believing the words he had heard. His face showed all the anger he was feeling, as well as the hurt. He questioned Darcy on his role, his sister accomplice and the times they had lied. Darcy never hesitated to answer truthfully, or say how utterly and completely wrong, he had been.

If Darcy thought he would have to suffer a long and hard fought battle to win back Bingley’s trust and regard after the wretched way he had treated him, he could not miscalculated the kind heartedness of his friend more. Before the two retired for bed that evening, Bingley had forgiven him completely, and asked if Darcy would give his blessing to him, though he did not need it; he would simply like it.

"Charles," he said, "I wish you speedy journey, all the luck the world holds and from the very bottom of my heart, my blessing and joy to you my friend; you deserve it more than anyone I know. I am not worthy of the friendship you have always shown me, but I do desire it, and will never again take it for granted."

Mr. Bingley returned to Netherfield in January with a heartfelt apology and, a not insignificant amount of bouquets. After several weeks of daily calls to Longbourn, he was granted the right to formally court Miss Jane Bennet, under the very constant, watchful eye of her father.

No proprieties were breeched and every formal rule and bit of etiquette was followed so that no stain would fall upon the couple. Two months after courtship had ensued, Mr. Bingley petitioned, Miss Bennet accepted, and Mr. Bennet blessed and consented.

Darcy was pleased to read the letter bearing the news of Bingley’s engagement to Jane Bennet in the spring. That is to say, the parts he could decipher were read with joy. He and Georgiana sent their sincere congratulations to him.

Bingley’s sisters had decided a happily married Charles was much easier to bear than a Charles whose temper flared at the least mention of any disapprobation on their part of his actions, his choice of bride or his new connections.

His sister Caroline Bingley had recently married a foreigner from Austria, Mr. Hans Wiegriffe, whose family owned several prosperous ironworks. He had come to England to find a refined wife who, frankly, would improve the gentility of his family’s breeding line and, in view of her recent decline of reputation, his lack of understanding in the nuances of the English language had worked greatly in her favour. With few people to speak with, he and Caroline had entered instantly into a delightful and animated conversation in German.

Unbeknownst to the Bavarian gentleman, it seems that after the night of the Blakely’s ball, Caroline had a decidedly difficult time in attracting the attention of any man in society. They were willing enough to speak to her in a group setting, or if seated next to her at a dinner, but she was never sought out in a drawing room when on her own, asked to dance at a ball, or shown any particular attention by a gentleman.

She had all but given up on finding a match when Mr. Wiegriffe had been introduced to her. Grateful for the attention of a man at last, Caroline had allowed herself and, more importantly, her heart to become quickly attached to the stout moustached man whose height allowed him to look her directly into her eyes when standing close. He wasted no time with silly courting and flirtations, and she wasted no time in accepting the man who had endeared himself to her so speedily.

Now, with Caroline’s future secured and her imminent removal to Vienna, and Louisa and Hurst permanently in residence in London, the news of Charles’ forthcoming marriage was all that was disinterested, insincere and wholly expected. The liberation from the lack of the Bingley sisters’ involvement in their brother’s life would afford the couple many years of contented peace.

After a four-month engagement period, Jane and her Mr. Bingley finally married in Longbourn chapel, on August the fifteenth, eighteen hundred and fifteen, fulfilling a lifelong dream of the mother of the bride. The absence of the bride’s dearest sister was quietly noted, but not dwelled upon by any of the guests, and the absence of the groom’s youngest sister and new brother-in-law, was noted with sighs of appreciation. The presence that day of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and his sister Georgiana added to the felicity of the entire wedding party.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Several weeks after the Bingley’s wedding, Darcy and his sister began to talk of Georgie’s coming out. In the past, he would have simply told her when it was to occur, taking control of the entire dealings. Now, they sat down to rationally and logically decide what would be best. Georgiana admitted to having no illusions as to her role in a marriage and certainly had no desire to hurry into the state, but also knew that, until she did come out, certain pleasant experiences would be denied to her.

The two came up with an answer to appease all; Georgiana would be presented to the king in the winter season of her twentieth year. However, she would only indulge in the balls and parties she truly was interested in and not feel pressured to accept invitations she did not wish to. She had no desire to make a splash, be the talk, or any other social column fodder. She simply wished to meet people and see if anyone interesting might be found among the dregs.

Six months later, Georgiana Darcy was presented at court; another significant milestone in her life. She had just turned twenty years of age and, whether she meant to or not, her entrance into society was indeed a great success. The sight of two single Darcys, magnificently turned out, and most especially the return of the eligible gentleman after an absence of nearly four years, was nearly overwhelming for the mothers of single ladies and gentlemen alike.

Georgiana’s aunt, Lady Matlock, had happily sponsored her niece and had also stealthily concealed the fact of the lady’s entrance into society until the last possible moment. It was with great satisfaction that she witnessed the reactions in the room when her dear Georgiana’s name was announced. She knew full well the reputation her niece had as a shy and reticent young woman.

“Just wait until they speak with her,” she laughingly mused behind her fan.

By the end of the evening, more than a few tails of unsuspecting young bucks were bruised when they dared enter the seemingly sweet realm of Miss Darcy. She was never cruel, nor unwelcoming to those who would seek an introduction, but she would not suffer fools gladly. With a brilliantly placed word, comment, or witticism, she quickly scared away those not worthy of a second look. The next round of possibilities often succumbed and gave up as well, but Georgiana did not have to dwell upon them. By the end of that first ball, she had danced every dance, and a few intelligent, sincere and interesting people, both male and female, had found their way to her and her brother. Thus they could both say, with honesty, the evening had, thank heaven, been very worthwhile.

Her aunt could not agree more. Though Darcy had acted similar to his habits of past, in that he only danced with his sister and his aunt, she had seen a softening and ease in his interactions with others that had not previously existed. While she hesitated to call it friendly, it was certainly friendlier than Darcy had ever been in the past. However, Georgiana had been the real star that evening. Her debut was an unmitigated triumph. She was beautiful, confident, brilliant and charming and she would no doubt have the pick of society if she wished it.

Her first season was a delight to Miss Darcy. Her brother supported her decision to only attend dances and events she wished to, and the diminished social schedule allowed her to relax and relish her first experiences.

One of the most telling conversations that Georgiana had early on in the Season was also, unbeknownst to her, overheard. She had been resting at the side of the dance floor, when the very wealthy, very large, very meddling Lady Ravenshaw cornered her. Georgie was not worried. Lady Ravenshaw had finally married off her last eligible son the previous Season and Fitzwilliam had assured her the elderly dowager had no prospects to try to push upon her. With an imperceptible sigh, she smiled and greeted the lady who immediately tried to determine if there were any gentleman who had caught Georgiana’s fancy yet.

“I am not looking for a husband, Lady Ravenshaw, I assure you.”

“Not wanting to marry? Why ever not?”

“I am wealthy enough to support myself, your Ladyship; I have no need for someone to put a roof over my head.”

Lady Ravenshaw harrumphed loudly, “Then why come out in society at all if you are not looking to make a good match?”

“I seek something else, madam.” Her ladyship looked dumbfounded at Miss Darcy.

Georgiana leaned in conspiratorially and whispered loudly, “Treasure, Lady Ravenshaw!”

The lady frowned. “You wish for jewels?”

Georgiana stifled a giggle. “No, but I seek jewels amongst society; people who are treasures to befriend, life long companions to enrich my life,” she answered confidently.

Lady Ravenshaw shook her head quickly, her curls flying from one side to the other with her movements. “I do not understand Miss Darcy. Oh, I see Mrs. James. I simply must pay my respects. Pray excuse me.”

Georgiana laughed at the quickly retreating lady. “No, Lady Ravenshaw, I am quite sure you will never understand.”

However, a gentleman who had heard the entire conversation understood very well. The very next day he called upon the Darcy town home, and requested a private audience with the master of the house.

The most astonishing discourse that Darcy could recall having in years then ensued. Mr. Patrick Kevin Louis McNally had come to tell Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy he intended to marry his sister, Georgiana.

However, he had no wish to be introduced to the lady. He had no desire at the time to receive Darcy’s permission for marriage or even courtship. He merely wanted to state his intentions honourably, give his reasons, and put forth his own personal history, fortune, and situation, for the express purpose of allowing Darcy to know the man who would one day pay his sister attentions, thus ensuring he would not be alarmed.

At first, Darcy was somewhat startled. Mr. McNally was not a man of diminutive stature. Darcy was already considered a great tall fellow, but Mr. McNally made him feel, for the first time since his boyhood, small. Moreover, his height was only a small portion of his size. He had the strapping shoulders and back of a coalminer to match. His face was not immediately handsome, but he was not plain either and he was blessed with a head of thick jet-black hair that any man would envy. Darcy could not help but admire the man’s physique, it was obvious he must partake of a great many physical sports or amusements to be so healthy. Luckily, McNally’s open demeanour and speech, soon made him forget his previous worry.

“I have spent four years in London, Mr. Darcy. Four years of attending each new Season, looking over all the young ladies coming out, meeting them and speaking with them, trying to find someone I could admire and love, and someone who would love me in return. I know it is not fashionable to marry for love. However, I have no desire to take a wife merely to provide me with an heir to whom I will pass along my fortune. I wish to share my life with a woman who is my equal in affection and intellect.

“I apologise if speaking frankly offends you, or if my views are too radical for your tastes. I have seen enough of the ways society lives by, and most of it would make the commoners stone them.

“I want a partner in my life, not a trinket. Most ladies I have met barely have the mettle to be more than a trinket.” Suddenly the man let out a hearty laugh from deep inside his person as he realised his joke. “Ha! Mettle,trinket.”

Darcy was instantly charmed by this unassuming hulk of a man who laughed so easily at himself, and joined with him in his mirth. He had noticed him recently. It was indeed hard for Mr. McNally to be unobtrusive and Darcy had seen him hanging around the fringes of their circle as they spoke to people at various events.

“I have been observing your sister, Sir. More importantly, I have been listening to what she has to say. Most people, I think I can confidently say, have not actually been listening to her. I have often observed the conversations young men have with her, and most of them simply want to hear their own voices, instead of learning what opinion she might have on a subject. I cannot tell you how delightful her opinions have been to me and, if I might be so bold, so in line with my own. I know you do not know me yet. I would be happy to start an acquaintance with you, so that you might get to know me better. But regardless of whether you wish to or not, someday, I will be applying to you for permission to court Miss Darcy.”

“Mr. McNally, I must confess to being intrigued by you, but I feel I must first ask the obvious and demand to know why you do not actually wish to be introduced to Georgiana yet.”

“She has just come out!” he replied, surprised.

“Yes, I am certainly aware of that fact.”

McNally began to roll his eyes, but then thought better of it.

“If I were to court your sister, if she and I were to begin a friendship right now, it would essentially be the end of her Season.”

“You are worried that as a courted woman, or an engaged woman, Georgiana would miss out on the entertainments?

“Yes, of course! She only has the chance once in her lifetime to be a debutante, Mr. Darcy. I would never deny her the enjoyment and carefree life she will live these next months. If she were to attach herself to me, I think she would always regret having missed it, though she might never voice it.”

“But what if she meets with another man and attaches herself elsewhere? Would you not be angry?”

“I think you already know the answer, Sir. Nevertheless, I will take what hand fate deals me.

“Miss Darcy and I will be introduced by this summer, and I hope that when we do meet, she will have the memory of many a young man in her head, and know what it is she wants from a man she might accept.” McNally smiled wryly, his green eyes twinkling in mischief. “Can you see some of the logic in my thinking now?”

This man might talk simply, but his words hid an intellect much more cunning than most would realise. Darcy would never admit it then, but he liked Mr. McNally exceedingly.

“I think I understand you perfectly, Sir,” he answered with his own smirk. “Now I would ask you a personal question.”

“I will answer anything you wish to know.”

“Do you fence?” Darcy queried.

The day finally did come in which Mr. Patrick McNally was introduced to Miss Georgiana Darcy. He had lived the last five months in the shadows around Georgie; a fleeting glance of him on the edge of a ballroom, his retreating back espied after she sensed his presence near her while she conversed.

She had lived with the constant excited ramblings of her elder brother about the new friend he had made, yet who never dared show his face. Darcy and McNally fenced together, rode together, met for dinner at their club, but never had the elusive man ventured back to the Darcy’s town home since the fateful March day when he introduced himself to the brother.

By the time Patrick announced he was ready to meet Miss Darcy, Georgiana’s curiosity, not to mention her considerable interest in this mysterious man of whom her brother was so fond, was at a peak. Therefore, when the two at last actually laid eyes on one another, rather than it being a shy uncomfortable moment, it was almost a relief.

The usually outspoken Georgie did blush a great deal under the heated gaze of Mr. McNally, but her silence grew from an earnest stare that she did not seem to be able to keep herself from participating in with him. Darcy stood back in silence for most of it, completely caught up by the sight of two people who were almost instantly falling in love. He retreated to the end of the room, to give the two a chance to speak in privacy.

“Miss Darcy, how lovely to finally meet you at last! I have heard so much about you.”

Georgiana smiled sweetly. “As I have about you, Mr. McNally. You have won yourself a loyal and praising friend in my brother.”

“If I have, Miss Darcy, I assure you it was friendship offered sincerely. Your brother is the very best of men and I am proud to call him friend.”

“Then you share that sentiment most earnestly with him, I assure you.”

They continued to stare unrelenting at one another during the entire exchange, seemingly unaware of the propriety they were both happily breaking.

“I suppose it would only be fitting to acquaint ourselves with the basic facts of our existence, Madam. It is considered the polite way to conduct oneself in the instance of an initial meeting, is it not?

Georgiana laughed lightly, and answered impertinently, “Perhaps, Sir, but truly, is there anything about my connections, fortune or accomplishments that you could not possibly know?”

McNally burst outright. “I dare say, not, Miss Darcy! He laughed. “And you- are there any details of my situation that have not been sufficiently explained to you?”

Georgiana’s face suddenly became serious. “Actually, yes, Mr. McNally, I do have questions with regards to your property in the North. Is it a large estate?”

McNally was momentarily taken aback, and replied cautiously,

“Large and small are relative terms, Miss Darcy. I find it a manageable sized estate. Some might find it large, and yet others might consider it quite small.”

“I see, and what is the approximate acreage, Mr. McNally?” she asked most directly.

Now he hesitated visibly. “I have approximately seven thousand, three hundred acres, Miss Darcy,” he replied shortly.

“The north can be quite rugged terrain, Mr. McNally, is all of the land farmable?”

His eyebrow raised in a disarming manner, rendering his face ruggedly handsome in almost a rakish fashion. He was obviously very interested in where this conversation was being directed by the lady.

“No, you are correct. We run sheep upon nearly half of the land; less than four thousand acres can be farmed.”

“An excellent usage, Sir. What are your crops then? What do you grow?”

“Wheat, barley, turnips, clover, oats, some vegetables in small quantity, mostly for the benefit of my tenants; they are not cash crops and we are very far north, after all.”

“Excellent, Mr. McNally. Can I assume you practice crop rotation and allow your fields to fallow as well?”

Here Patrick broke out in a wide grin; now on to her game. “We do indeed, Miss Darcy. I read everything I can find of the latest farming techniques and animal husbandry as well.” He lowered his voice, “Some time you must allow me to tell you of our methods to induce our ewes to always produce twins.”

Now Georgiana grinned. “Perhaps, someday, Mr. McNally, but I think, for now, that conversation needs to be postponed.”

“Quite so. I must say it is refreshing to speak to a lady about one’s estate concerns. Most women I speak with would only be interested in the details of the income my estate produces, not the crops.” Georgiana nodded her agreement.

“If there is such a thing as a gentleman farmer, then I am a lady farmer, Mr. McNally. My fortune comes from, and is dependent upon, the prosperous running of my family’s estate, the success of which falls to both my brother and myself. I do all that I can to secure its continuity and all aspects of the venture interest me exceedingly.

“While I often come to town for the amusements, they are to me just that, amusements, not real life; not my life now, or in the future. I live in the country, amongst the verdant green fields, and the wilds of the forest, riding, walking and enjoying the clean air: the healthful habits of a farmer‘s life and an active participation in the running of our estate with my brother. Do I make myself clear, Sir?”

“Indeed you do Miss Darcy and, if I may be so bold, I agree with your predilections and could not be more pleased at hearing your future plans.”

They stared, unfazed at one another, yet again.

“And if I may be so bold, Mr. McNally, I would be very pleased at hearing your future plans.”

He gasped.

“For your estate, of course,” she demurely added.

Within the month, the gossip of how Mr. Patrick McNally, who had previously been known to rarely have more than one conversation with any eligible lady, had been calling steadily upon Miss Georgiana Darcy, and the apparent pleasure the lady had been receiving these attentions, was all over town. After five weeks, Mr. McNally had officially requested permission to court Georgiana, and was happily granted the right by the lady, her brother, and her guardian cousin.

The next two months were spent in utter bliss by the two doves who could barely turn their heads to anyone else in the room. Patrick opened any dance they attended together with her, and always closed the same with his lady. She spent little time in the company of other gentleman and, though always polite, the eligible young men of society soon learned that to try to engage Miss Darcy for a dance, or more importantly, engage her attention away from her suitor, was fruitless.

She was dubbed a hopeless case, as was her lover, and soon society resorted to trying to find fault in the match, no matter the futility. The greatest hopes of the matchmaking mamas of society were solidly dashed when it was formally announced Miss Georgiana Darcy and Mr. Patrick McNally were engaged to be married. The wedding was set for six weeks hence, and was to take place, to the horror of all, at the bride’s home, Pemberley, in Derbyshire, and not in town.

Patrick’s fortune proved to be one of the great misrepresented facts of the London ton. It was common knowledge that he was master of a large estate in the North, at the very edge of the Scottish border. The general consensus, egged on by McNally’s own boast, of an income of eight thousand pounds a year, was sadly incorrect. What none of society had known was Mr. McNally’s family, coming primarily from Scotland, and, most unfortunately, Ireland, had left the eldest and only descendant from both his mother and his father’s sides all their holdings. The properties his parents had inherited and passed on to him had not only been vast, but also highly profitable. McNally had wisely preferred to keep as many of them in the original family names, so as not to draw attention to himself.

When the day came to draw up the marriage settlement papers and confess his worth to Fitzwilliam and Richard, the look upon his future relatives’ faces made the deception worth every moment.

Darcy had held the paper in his hands, quickly skimming the rhetoric and coming to the pertinent numbers. Richard held his own copy and had almost simultaneously come to the same astonishing calculation before the two cousin’s heads snapped up to stare at one another.

“Patrick!” Darcy turned to his future brother, incredulous. “You… that is, are you sure? I mean, you intend to settle,” here he was forced to stop, shake his head and blink hard at the paper, “seventy thousand pounds upon Georgiana?”

“It is an appropriate amount for my wife, Darcy. I think it correct, do you not?”

Richard, who had continued reading the document, interrupted, “Good God, McNally- you own a fair part of Ireland and Scotland! How can none of us have known this?”

Patrick smiled good-naturedly. “You, along with the rest of the world, have only known what I wished them to, my future cousin. I could hardly find a good woman if such a ridiculous fortune were known, now could I?”

“Does Georgie know?” Darcy asked, truly concerned over the ramifications of her being mistress to such an overwhelming array of properties.

“She does, Darcy. From almost the beginning, I wished for her to know what she was getting herself into before her heart was beyond retrieval, should she change her mind. But being the extraordinary woman she is, do you know what she said?”

Both cousins shook their heads together as they listened, mesmerized

“She asked, ‘Will you be with me always, to weather through whatever is necessary to manage it all? For if you will share our burdens and your life with me, I would not care if you were a pauper, as long as you were by my side.’”

All three men nodded appreciatively at the sentiment.

“At the beginning?” Darcy remarked, now realising how intimate a conversation they must have had early on in their relationship.

McNally grinned sheepishly. “Yes, I’m afraid there have been aspects of your sister’s and my interactions about which we have not been completely forthcoming.”

Darcy was about to get angry, but Patrick appeased him quickly. “No proprieties were breached, my dear future brother! I have never imposed myself upon your sister in any way. I only speak of what we have said to one another. You see,” here he stopped, eyes glazed, staring blankly with a hint of a smile whilst remembering, “I actually proposed to your sister three days after we were introduced. She accepted happily, and we agreed that, while we both knew our hearts were true, society would never understand the connection and deep abiding love we already felt for one another. We decided we would continue our acquaintance with all the proper decorum, propriety, and time lines that society dictates. Therefore, five weeks: courtship, two months later: engagement, and six weeks later: wedding.”

“You decided beforehand on the date you would come to me and ask to court her, and when you would say you proposed, all of it?” Darcy asked amazed.

Patrick grinned. “We did. Actually, your sister chose the dates. She was very methodical on deciding when we would begin each step. She has a great capacity for numbers; I merely agreed to her choices.”

“Yet had you both had your way, you would have been married two months ago?” Richard asked, snickering.

Patrick laughed too. “No, I think for the sake of all proper deportment, and for our children’s futures, their Mama and Papa must have an entirely proper courtship to present to the world.”

Darcy and Richard could do little else but shake their heads still dumbfounded.

Patrick, however wished to reassure his new relations of his devotion to Georgiana. “Fitzwilliam, Richard, never doubt that Georgiana is the reason my heart beats happily and the only woman whom I shall ever love. I know it is highly improper to say it, or not the current practice, but I will never break my vow of fidelity to her; no woman but my wife, on that oath I will swear.”

Later, after McNally had left, Richard and Darcy sat, still slightly dazed in his study.

“I wish I still drank spirits,” Darcy said solemnly.

Richard immediately was disturbed. “What has you so riled?”

“I am trying to get my mind around the amount of money Patrick has,” Darcy muttered.

“Some would say the same about you,” Richard retorted. Darcy gave him a scowl. “What is really rankling you?”

Darcy pouted. “Do you have any idea how many times at our club he has made me pay for our dinner?”

The night before the wedding, the Darcys, Fitzwilliams, McNallys and Bingleys were happily gathered in the blue drawing room of Pemberley. Lady Catherine had meant to attend with Anne, but they had both come down with putrid throats and, combined with the bad weather necessarily associated with December, had cancelled the trip at the very last moment. The bride and groom as usual had no eyes for anyone else, but they did manage to thank their friends and relations now and then for the heartfelt good wishes that were being bestowed upon them.

Darcy was to give the bride away the next morning and was having a difficult time not feeling melancholy about the bittersweet day ahead. He was overjoyed at seeing the deep and abiding love his sister had found with Patrick. Part of him tried to take credit for the match, but he chuckled to himself at his obstinate pride. It was all Georgiana’s doing. She was the woman who attracted such a fine man. The very best of men, he had wished for her, and now she had found him. His wealth was immaterial; Patrick’s excellence of character was based upon everything in spite of his fortune. How happy he was to call him brother. Tomorrow would be the day for speeches, and teary farewells, tonight the excitement of the wedding called for happiness and love.

He caught Richard’s eye to stay behind as the guests bid their host goodnight. Soon only the betrothed couple remained and they, uncharacteristically, actually realised the room had gone silent.

The two men then stood in front of the couple; Richard nodded to Darcy, who took both their hands in his and put them together, just as he would the next morning at Pemberley chapel and said, “Patrick, Georgiana, tomorrow will be a whirlwind, I have no doubt, so I wish for this one moment to extend my sincere blessings to you both. Everyone will be saying it tomorrow, but no one will mean it more deeply than myself when I tell you I wish you joy. I wish you joy in every day you spend with each other, and I do not doubt you will be able to discover it together.

“Your betrothed is a frank man, Georgiana, and I know if you both are frank and honest with one another, and remember to cherish this rare gift of love you share, you will be very happy all your lives. For me, it is everything I could ever wish for you, Sister.”

He patted their hands gently and stepped back, whereupon Richard, not expecting anyone to look at him at the moment, and resembling a bright Christmas ribbon, coughed nervously, nodded his head, and replied, “Yes, well said, Darcy; I feel quite the same.”

The couple stood, laughing through their misty eyes while embraces, handshakes and smiles were exchanged. Darcy and Richard then looked significantly at one another and then purposely turned their backs upon the couple and made to leave. Richard, now recovered, turned as they started to close the door and stated, in his best commanding voice, “You will leave this room in ten minutes time, no longer. Heaven help you both if I have to come back in here.” Then he grinned like the cat that ate an entire field of mice, while quietly closing the door behind him.

Georgie was in Patrick’s arms before the latch had clicked.

Sometime later, after they had once again caught their breaths, Georgiana was firmly seated in her fiancé’s lap, playing with his thick hair while nuzzling his strong neck. His hands were thoroughly taking stock of his beloved’s bottom, and he was pleased to note the strength of her haunch.

She giggled. “Do you think I shall be fair breeding stock, Sir?”

He pinched her, twice. “Aye, Lass. I think at the very least you will be that.” He moved his mouth to her ear and licked the soft lobe while whispering, “And I plan to practice breeding with you as often as possible.”

She gasped, then bit his neck in retaliation for his cheek. “You should be ashamed, but I can see from your smile you are not the least repentant for your bawdy words! What manner of man is it I am marrying?”

“Besides a man who is deliriously in love with you, he is also a man who is being driven wild with desiring you. Oh Georgie, just think what we shall be doing this time tomorrow!” he cried as he began kissing her throat.

She moaned her approval, while grasping at the expanse of his shoulders. She giggled when he began to nibble on her, breaking the heat of their passion and showing, once again, his deep respect for her by not taking too many liberties.

“I try not to think about it too much,” she answered.

He withdrew frowning but she instantly sought to soothe him by taking his face into her hands and drawing him back to her lips.

She spoke between kisses. “Not because… I am frightened….my love…it is… my own …desire…I seek…to avoid.”

He groaned at her admission of desiring their union and she found herself held tightly against the great mass of man that he was.

“Oh, my girl, how I shall love you tomorrow!” he cried as his mouth covered hers possessively. She finally broke free from his searching lips and tongue and rested her head against his forehead. They looked into each other’s eyes and smiled, then laughed together.

“Tomorrow,” she said happily through her panting breaths.

“Tomorrow night!” he replied with a grin. “Though that does bring up one subject I think would be worth mentioning. As you have no mother, my Dear, and usually brides are… advised on all aspects of their marriage by their mother…”

“Yes, Patrick?” she asked innocently.

He gave a great sigh. “I wondered if there were any questions you might have, or any information you might wish for me to impart to you, before, before tomorrow.”

“I cannot think of what you might mean,” she answered.

“Georgiana, has your aunt, or maybe Mrs. Bingley or even Mrs. Reynolds spoken to you concerning the duties of a wife?”

“Goodness me, Patrick! I am mistress of Pemberley and have been hostess for my brother for almost five years. I think I know my duties.”

Patrick now sighed even harder, but continued on. “My Love, I do not speak of household duties, I am speaking of duties, well, the things a husband and wife share.”

She looked at him blinking lightly with confusion upon her face.

“What a husband and wife share in the marriage bed, Georgiana,” he finally blurted out.

At that point, Georgiana could no longer keep up the ruse and started giggling.

“You Minx! You knew all along what I was eluding to?”

She nodded, pulling in her bottom lip.

“And am I to assume you have no questions?”

She shook her head.

“Did your aunt tell you everything you wish to know?”

She shook her head again.

“Mrs. Bingley then?”

When she shook her head a third time, he winced.

“Mrs. Reynolds?”

She shook her head yet again.

“Then whom?”

Now she had to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“All of them,” she managed to squeak out. “And that information was in addition to the books my brother hides at the top of the library shelves. I found those years ago; quite edifying, really.”

He pulled her back into his arms.

“I think I shall always have to thank your brother for deciding you should be educated so thoroughly,” he growled as his lips trapped hers once more.

“Mmm,” she murmured. “Thank me first.”

Mr. McNally’s perception in realising how perfectly matched he and Georgiana would be in intellect, temperament and affection, turned out to be completely justified; they married exactly five months to the day from whence they first were introduced: December the fourth, eighteen hundred and sixteen, and lived a life filled with love, if not perfect peace. She was after all, a Darcy.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Posted on Friday, 23 December 2005

London, April 1817

Jane Bingley sat in her drawing room, quietly reflecting over her correspondence.

“Things do not change,” she thought as she read her Mama’s letter from her girlhood home. She daydreamed about what they would all be doing right then; Papa in his library, a good book snugly grasped in his hand. Kitty, who was now Mrs. Fletcher (having married her Uncle Philips’ law partner a twelvemonth earlier) no doubt visiting Longbourn, while her mother would be playing sentry at the windows to see who else would be calling. Mary might be going over the household accounts or visiting a tenant’s family.

Well, there was one change: Mary had come into her own and provided the common sense and economy her family had always lacked. She had slowly taken up the role as mistress of Longbourn in all the ways that truly mattered, and neither her mother, who really only wanted to be the hostess of her parlour and table, nor her father, who preferred to be treated as a guest, objected in the least to her active running of the estate. Jane smiled thinking how much happiness and peace of mind Mary had brought to them all. God bless dear Mary!

Jane was happy, she had her Charles whom she loved and was loved by in return, and she had her quiet life in the country and here in town. She and her husband participated in few of the social activities of the ton. They mostly enjoyed a very comfortable existence with each other, and their close family and friends. Yes, Jane had very little to complain about, with one very important exception: she had lost the person most dear to her next to Charles. Almost 4 years earlier Jane had lost her Lizzy, and no matter the happiness the rest of her world afforded her, she still felt her loss keenly; as if part of her was missing.

It was on this lovely April day, the sun shining with a light warm breeze announcing spring was well and truly here, that the servant brought in his tray with a card upon it to his mistress. She picked up the card which read:

Jane frowned; she knew no such person and was about to tell the butler to inform the lady she was not at home, when he discreetly cleared his throat, indicating she should look more closely. Turning the card over she saw, in a hand she knew almost as well as her own,

She ran, almost knocking into the poor startled butler, but never slowed her pace until she reached the front door. There, standing in the sparkling afternoon light with the dust particles floating magically around her like a dream, was Elizabeth. They flew into each other’s arms crying and smiling and squealing like two young girls again.

They could not release each other, though neither one cared. Most of the servants could not help walk past them as if their duty somehow demanded they cross the front hallway, but still the sisters did not stop their embraces.

Later, Mrs. Bingley would think it odd seeing the upstairs chambermaid and the scullery kitchen maid in her front hall, but she did not comment to them. She knew the usually calm and level headed mistress wailing in the doorway was enough to garner the interest of her servants and she wisely decided not to further the talk with explanations.

“Lizzy, Lizzy, my dear sister! How I have wished for this day! How I have missed you!” she cried, her tears still not abating.

“Jane, dear Mrs. Bingley, how wonderful you look! You are well, yes?”

Jane nodded mutely. “And you Lizzy, you look lovely; you are well too?”

“Yes, Jane, I have never been better, especially now I am with you.” Tears started flowing again: happy tears, welcoming tears of joy and relief for both women. Eventually they calmed down somewhat and Jane led her sister into her house.

The butler ushered the gentleman in.

“I have an appointment with Mr. Bingley this afternoon, Jacobs, is he in? “

“Not yet sir, but I’m sure he will be home shortly if you had established plans, may I escort you to his study to await him, Sir?”

“Thank you, yes.”

The two sisters sat under a lovely shaded area in the back of the house, relishing the fresh air, and the dear company they both were keeping. After the initial excitement had died down, they were able to inquire more thoroughly into one another’s health and happiness. Jane was more forthcoming than her sister with her life‘s details, but Elizabeth did not hesitate to assure her sister of her complete felicity.

Not long after they had been sitting, the maid came and delivered a message to Mrs. Cartwright. She looked up with an impertinent sparkle in her eye and asked, “Jane, may I introduce you to someone?”

“Of course, Lizzy! I did not know you had brought someone with you! I wish you had informed me; I would not have hesitated to let them into my home. Oh my, they have not been waiting in your coach all this while, have they?”

“Not at all, he has been exploring the lovely park across from your house. I assure you he was very happy to do so and will be most content to call upon you here in your delightful garden.” Jane then entreated the maid to bring the visitor to them.

A boy ran across the garden followed by his nurse. He was very young, but quite a tall and sturdy fellow.

The ladies could hear him calling, “Mama, Mama?”

Elizabeth smiled. “I am here, William,” she answered, as he hurriedly scampered to rush into her skirts. She sighed and tousled the thick dark curls on his head as he hugged her.

“You have a son!” Jane exclaimed happily. Elizabeth nodded with a radiant smile upon her face.

“William, do not forget your manners, there is a lady present.” He shyly peeked out from the folds of the fabric, stopped and quite obviously stared at the vision next to his mother. Elizabeth cleared her throat pointedly and William, remembering himself, jumped up tall, placed his feet properly together bowed slowly and deeply, a large dimpled grin on his face as it was raised to his aunt. Jane gasped, not for his forgetful manners; it was the face in front of her which made her catch her breath.

“My God, Mama!” he cried. “She is exactly as you said; an angel, a very angel!”

“Son, have we not spoken of using that phrase?” she admonished back.

He bowed his head and sheepishly replied, “I am sorry, Mama, I have been reading and the words still stick inside my head. I will try not to use them again.”

“Very well, but you must apologise.”

William turned back to Jane and spoke humbly, “Please except my deepest apologies, my dear Lady Angel.”

Jane stood blankly at him. Their entire discourse had been in French.

“In English, my Love,” his mother said softly.

William repeated himself again, and bowed once more.

“Your apology is accepted, Sir and I am pleased to meet you. My name, however, is Mrs. Bingley, not Lady Angel.”

“William Bennet Cartwright, my Lady, at your service.”

Jane giggled.

“You are a very proper gentleman, Master Cartwright. I think your mother has done a fine job raising you.”

“Thank you, my Lady, I cannot help but concur,” he said, not realising the obvious compliment he was in fact, paying to himself.

“I think your house is very beautiful, but I cannot help wondering if….” He stopped to look up innocently at his mother.

Elizabeth laughed. “My dear Jane, this is William’s way of being coy when he wants something.”

“And what would that be?” inquired Jane, puzzled.

“Your library!” they both exclaimed together.

“Why, Master Cartwright, you do not mean you take after your mother and read the day away? Besides, you cannot be more than three years of age.”

“Mama says I take after her and my father in that way. My birthday was three months ago, Mrs. Bingley. I am now…” he stopped to think, “…three and seventy-seven three hundred and sixty-fifth’s years old,” he declared proudly. “And I have been reading for over a year now.”

“How extraordinary!” exclaimed Jane, while Elizabeth tried very hard not to beam as she stroked her son’s head.

“Yes, Jane, William is as voracious a reader as can be. He delights in discovering treasures in anyone’s library.”

“Then you must see Mr. Bingley’s library, William. Shall I have the maid take you directly? Will you go with her?”

“Of course, Lady Angel, I am not afraid.”

Jane smiled. “Of course you are not, Master William; I never thought you would be.”

The maid went off with William and his nurse after he graced Jane with a heartfelt thank you and another beautiful smile. Jane’s eyes betrayed her thoughts immediately. She turned to Lizzy who had not missed the look upon her sister‘s face.

“Will you tell me his true name now, or must I say it?” she asked softly.

“William Bennet Cartwright,” her sister answered without thinking.

“Lizzy.” Jane was not going to allow her to escape this. Silence hung between the two sisters.

Finally, she drew a great breath and sighed, “William Bennet Cartwright …”

“Yes?” Jane raised her brows to signal her to continue.

“Darcy,” she breathed out slowly, staring blankly at the ground. “I have not said his full name out loud since January the twenty-ninth, eighteen hundred and fourteen; the day he was born.” A silent tear ran down her left cheek without her realising it.

Inside Charles Bingley’s study, Fitzwilliam Darcy sat motionless on the sofa next to the open window over-looking the Bingley’s garden. A silent tear ran down his left cheek, the owner completely unaware of it. Time froze, and he was cognisant of the ticking of the clock, and the slight humming of insects in the garden. How long he remained immobile he did not know until he heard the maid coming down the hall with the lad on their way to the library. He was torn between hearing Elizabeth speak again and the mad desire to see this child. His son! He had a son, his and Elizabeth’s! His mind was racing, as was his heart. He had no time to think; instead, jumping up quickly but quietly, he very nearly ran down the hallway to the library after them.

“Is it so obvious, Jane?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

“Like looking into a mirror that turns back time, Lizzy; he is the picture of his father, like no other son I have ever seen,” she answered solemnly. “And his smile! Oh my, he has the Darcy dimples!”

“Yes, I know. You cannot imagine my shock the first time as a baby he smiled at me,” she replied with a slight laugh. “But he does not know his real father; he may never know, I have not decided. I have not told him you are his Aunt. I am afraid he believes you are merely my friend. Please forgive me, but I must ask you to agree to keep this secret.”

Jane nodded her reluctant agreement while Elizabeth continued, “William is unlike any other boy. He is not the same for many, many reasons, not least of which is his mind.”

“Whatever do you mean, Lizzy?”

“He is not just a clever; his brilliance goes far deeper. He has an intellect which is truly gifted in ways I could not have thought possible in a person, much less a young child.”

Jane looked concerned, but encouraged her to continue.

“When William was not yet nine months old, he started speaking, putting crude sentences together very quickly, never forgetting anything once he had learned it. He quickly started speaking whole sentences, and sang entire songs, often in other languages, if he heard me sing them.

“He continued by playing with all the puzzles in the house, and very quickly mastered them. I started to make up new games and challenges for him everyday. His ability to master anything I set to him was astounding. Around the age of eighteen months I began seeing how interested he was in my books, and let him see the pages and the print. Soon after, we started studying his letters and then his numbers as well. I rarely had to tell him any fact twice. His mind absorbed everything with a keenness I could hardly believe.

“Before the time he was two, he was reading. He progressed so quickly, soon all the children’s books I had acquired, and afterwards the lending library books as well had been read several times over. Also at age two he started adding and later subtracting his numbers.

“He began asking me about languages. His nurse is French, and together we started teaching French to him. William now speaks it far better than I do, but it does not stop there. He found a book on Latin at the vicar’s parsonage, and started studying it on his own.

“I have continued teaching him all I know of mathematics, and we started learning geography and history recently. Unfortunately, because he is still so young, he cannot write well, so most of his studies are conducted through speech alone. This makes the schooling progress very fast, but Jane, I will have to stop William’s lessons soon.”

Darcy’s hand hesitated at the library door. He knew what his heart wanted, but he also feared it. Taking a deep steadying breath, he turned the handle slowly and stepped into a new world.

William was there, standing at a row of books, the shelves lined upwards from him for what seemed like several stories. He seemed so small, not more than a babe to Darcy, who was not accustomed to such small children. They had not heard him enter and Darcy took advantage to observe in great detail, as was his habit.

“My son!” he thought. He looked earnestly for those telling details which would prove him the son Darcy so desperately wanted him to be. The boy’s hair was a mop of mahogany curls, which he quickly discounted as both he and Elizabeth had such. However, on closer inspection William’s hair was more like his. Her hair was much thicker and wavier compared to Darcy‘s. This boy’s hair, his curls, were much more to his own than to his mother’s. His profile, Darcy concluded, was undecided, he had a fine nose, like both his parents, and a good chin, but he could not see more resemblance from a mere side view at twenty paces.

Then suddenly William spied a book he liked. His previous frowning curiosity as his fingers tread lightly across the spines was replaced with a beautiful wide grin of discovery and delight. As the grin spread across his little face, the sides were suddenly graced by two sweet indents which Darcy immediately recognised and he drew a sharp breath.

The nurse and William turned at the sound, and upon seeing the gentleman standing there, he bowed politely and, smiling, he spoke. “Sir, this is a most excellent library, I hope you do not mind my looking.”

Darcy walked slowly up to him, his gaze never leaving the boy’s face. The closer he got, the harder his heart beat. He did not know the smile upon his face made William feel very welcome and immediately relaxed any anguish he might have felt from the failure of the gentleman to address him. Darcy could not help but be deeply moved. William’s face was like a ghost to him: his own ghost of the boy he once was. Only a blind fool could not see Fitzwilliam Darcy in this child.

“Our son,” he thought again. He sighed so deeply it made the boy frown a bit. Remembering himself, Darcy determined to not waste this precious time.

Standing directly in front of him, he bowed, a deep, deep bow, at the bottom of which he looked directly up into William’s eyes and winked.

He then stood up to his fullest height and with an air of authority said, “Sir, any gentleman with enough good sense to appreciate this library, and give it such fine praise is always welcome. Your taste does you credit.”

“Ha!” laughed the lad. “I think you are having a bit of fun with me.”

Darcy immediately let out his breath and laughed along with him. He then knelt down to William’s level. “What do you find here that makes you smile so, young master?” he asked, studying the books in front of them. He had almost let slip out “young master ‘Darcy‘” but caught himself in time.

“I have found a few good books I have already read and two good books I have been wishing to read!”

“And what do find that you wish to read?”

“Beowulf and the Canterbury Tales, Sir!” he replied excitedly.

“My, those are very exceptional pieces of literature; whatever made you think to read them?”

“Well,” he started, but then gave his ideas some contemplation before continuing, “Mama says if I wish to study philosophy, and higher mathematics principles, I must first learn to have fun and read about exciting adventures and classic stories. Then later, when I look at the whole of an idea, I will have much more than my simple life in Derbyshire to draw from. What say you, Sir? Do you think I should know more?”

Darcy was mulling over his answer when suddenly, he was cognisant of what this child was actually asking, then replaying over in his mind what William had told Jane; it did not make sense. This child is but 3 years old, he told himself. How can a child, nay almost a babe, be thinking like this, can be contemplating Chaucer and poetry, and speaking of his education at such a tender age to include philosophy and higher mathematics?

“Master William,” Darcy began, “how came you to think of studying such advanced subjects?”

“Because Mama says we will begin those subjects when we get to university, Sir.”

“You do not continue your studies at home with your mother?” Darcy questioned frowningly.

“We have nearly finished those, Sir. Soon it will be time to learn more,” he answered, a bit exasperated. Darcy’s frown continued. The boy turned to his nurse and once again in French asked her, “Mademoiselle, please tell the gentleman Mama has announced her teaching is nearly complete, for I think once again we have an adult who does not believe what I say.”

Darcy turned a knowing look to the Nurse who nodded her assent. He then addressed William, “That will not be necessary, William, for I can see you are in earnest. Please accept my apologies if you have been offended in any way. I can only say you are truly the most extraordinary young man I have ever met.”

“And I accept your apology, Sir. But you need not worry; if I took offence to every new acquaintance who found my interests and studies unusual, I think I would be a very gloomy chap indeed!” he replied, laughing at his own good sense.

“You have the right of it William, and no improper pride, I dare say,” said Darcy affectionately. There was something about the boy’s small face that he could tell was not his own and, finally having the chance to seriously study it, recognition came over him; Williams eyes. They were the exact shape as his, but their colour was Elizabeth’s brown, and the lashes much thicker and lovely, like hers. He admitted they made an improvement over his, and laughed lightly to think how young ladies would one day swoon over such fine eyes.

“Now tell me about your home; you live in Derbyshire?”

William proceeded to tell his father about his beloved county of Derbyshire, the beauty he had known there through his mother’s careful tutelage, and their carefree rambles through the country walks. He spoke of the village he lived in, Brampton, and the entire goings on, the vicarage and school where he and his mother worked each week with other children and helped the less fortunate members of their community. William very seriously told him his mother believes everyone needs kindness and that we all need to help others.

Darcy knew the place well; it was just off the main road between Pemberley and London, not thirty miles from his own home. How often these last three years would he have passed near Brampton and not known that two of the three most important people in his life resided there?

William spoke well; his words, though coming from a child’s mouth were full of the vivacity, and spirit of life Elizabeth had always exuded. Darcy had only been in his company for ten minutes, but already in that short time, this boy, this tiny little man, had completely enraptured him. His heart was so full, it took every ounce of his control to not kiss his dear son and hug him tightly.

“Well, Sir, if I might have your permission, may I take these two volumes to the garden where my mother is sitting with your lady? I promise not to let them touch the ground or get soiled in any way before I return them,” William asked sweetly.

Suddenly Darcy realized his son thought he was Bingley. This was not his library, and he did not have permission to give the boy anything. He was not meant to be with him. He was not sure if he should reveal his name to William. Knowing now just how intelligent his son was, he was sure the boy would remember his name, and there was no way to gauge how Elizabeth would react to his having been introduced to William. He desperately did not want him to leave. He needed time to think, and he did not have that luxury.

Sadly but resignedly, he knew what he must do. He turned to William, and spoke very softly, “I know what a very clever boy you are and you are still very young, but I think, William, I would trust you with the most precious things I possess. You may keep the books for your own, for providing me with such delightful conversation, as I have not had these past four years. I only ask a small favour; will you kiss my cheek in thanks?”

William looked at his father, wide surprise across his face. “Keep them, Sir? For my very own?”

“Yes, William, give them to me, and I will make them yours forever.”

William clasped his hands and jumped in joy, acting like the young three-year-old boy he still was. Then, seeing the smile on Darcy’s face, he took it in his tiny hands, and observed him intently for several moments. He kissed his father’s cheek, threw his arms around his neck and thanked him over and over. Darcy hugged his son tightly and choked back his emotions while enjoying the bittersweet moment. William released him and handed him the books. With that, Darcy brought the two volumes over to the desk, took out the pen and ink, and inscribed each book.

A smiling boy left the library; his treasures tucked safely in his hug. His nurse reminded him he needed to take his meal, and that books were not allowed at table, therefore he deposited them next to their things in the hallway, and proceeded down to the kitchen. The maid picked up the books and looked at the inscription, smiling. It read:

For My Dearest William

In the garden, Jane asked Elizabeth to explain why she would no longer be teaching William.

“He will very soon be beyond my knowledge; less than a year, I am sure. Our Vicar, Mr. Awdry, who also has been teaching William this past year, agrees with my assessment. He will need excellent tutors to keep his mind growing. He also wants to start the study of music soon, and I only play quite ill, not at all qualified to teach.”

“What will you do, Lizzy? Jane asked. “I can not imagine such a young child at Cambridge, or any university in England for that matter!”

Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, you are correct; Englishmen hold tight in their conventions of education. No lad may be ready for any subject unless he has traversed the same road as everyone else. It is a sad truth, but one my son will not have to suffer through if I have any say in it.”

Just then, the servant arrived with tea and lemonade, cakes and fruit to refresh the ladies. They began serving the tea, chatting about the lovely day, and the delicious treats in front of them. Later, the maid returned and informed Mrs. Cartwright the young master and his nursemaid would be taking their refreshments below stairs and were doing fine. She thanked the girl, relieved to know of her precocious son’s whereabouts.

“He is the most amazing boy, Madam!” the maid exclaimed. “The cook and housekeeper are heartily discussing things with him I’ve no get up about! And he seems so young, but he must be older than he looks.”

“Thank you, Annie, but Master William is only three years old, despite his cleverness, and we must remember to keep him safe while he is here,” Jane replied.

The maid excused herself with this interesting bit of information; hardly able to keep herself from sharing with the first serving person she met in the house.

Darcy had by this time re-established himself in the small study, eager to hear more, and not feeling a little bit guilty about his eavesdropping. The two women were laughing.

“Is that usually the way of it?” asked Jane.

“I fear it is,” her sister replied. “Fortunately William does not see it as something to grow vain over, he simply enjoys life too much to bother dwelling on what others think of him. I hope his good nature and easy manners stay part of his countenance when he is grown.” She then began describing how she had planned for William’s future.

“I have a tidy sum from dear Mrs. Thurgood, which I have invested in several places such as Walters and Elliott, the Bartswith Shipping Company, a few smaller businesses. I am proudest to say I am an anonymous partner in Uncle Gardiner’s warehouses. He runs an amazingly profitable place!”

Jane conceded, “I certainly thought as much from how lovely Aunt Gardener’s gowns always are!” The ladies giggled appreciatively.

“From the profits of my investments I run our household and I purchase the necessary books and materials William has needed so far. But there is so much more yet to come. I will have start paying wages for tutors, masters and the like. I must keep our money safe, and profitable enough to secure William’s future. I never knew the difficulties that come with providing for a household.”

“From the profits of my investments I have run our household and purchased the necessary books and materials William has needed so far. But there is so much more yet to come. I will have start paying wages for tutors, masters and the like. I must keep our money safe, and profitable enough to secure William’s future. I never knew the difficulties that come with providing for a household.”

“This is all too remarkable to me; hearing you talk of investing and profits, wherever did you learn it all?” replied an overwhelmed Jane.

“Necessity! There is nothing like it to get one to take action. I had also learned some book keeping, investing and rudimentary skills of running of an estate from father. It is no different with my investments; the numbers are simply different.

“However, caring for our fortune is but a small part of my plans. William needs the opportunities to seek out the great minds and thinkers of our age. I need to learn who is the most reputable. I need to find out who can teach him, guide him and with which people I can trust him. I cannot, will not, take any chances with what is most precious to me.

“What William needs is the connections to the thinking world; hang fine ladies and dandies. Unfortunately, many of them are actually part of society.” Here she laughed. “The very people who I would shun gladly the rest of my life, I now need. How ironic life can be.”

“You cannot be so light-hearted about this, surely?” Jane suddenly became concerned; she knew her sister’s habit of brushing off serious issues in jest.

“No, of course not, I simply try to keep my spirits up for my darling boy of course.”

“You seem very taken, Mrs. Cartwright,” Jane consoled her. Elizabeth beamed.

“He is my reason for living, my love, my light, and my redemption for being a fallen woman. I cannot say it clearer.” Jane gasped.

“When I discovered I was with child, I was so frightened. How I suffered and tortured myself with my emotions, then ended up making myself physically ill. I tried to punish myself for having been such a fool. I did not wish to go on, but one day Mrs. Thurgood, my employer, said something to me. I do not know if she knew my shame, but never the less, it was so poignant, I knew her words were pointing the way for me. She said, ‘We are not always happy with ourselves, not proud of our actions, or our feelings, but what never will change is that we do not go through our lives alone. We, each of us, have someone, somewhere to answer to.’

“I knew she was correct. What I was doing to myself, I was doing to my babe as well, and I could never live with hurting my child. So I stopped and decided to live for my child and myself.

“Once William arrived the rest was simple. He was so easy to love. So easy to feel blessed. I may have given up my soul to have him, but I will not spend his soul to release mine.”

Jane reached over and clasped her hand in understanding and sympathy. At length she replied, “Perhaps if you were to marry again? Might you fall in love and wish to, Lizzy? Then you could find happiness again and William would have a father in his life.”

Elizabeth stared openly at her sister, her amazement clearly written on her face. “Goodness, Jane! How could you say such thing? Can you really not know? I am in love, and in my heart I am married, and always have been, to Mr. Darcy! There could never be any question of another.”

“But Mr. Cartwright?” Jane asked alarmed.

Elizabeth sighed, “My late husband …” Her mind suddenly drifted off as she remembered the day she was given the letter from the attorneys that was forever to change her life.

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