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Chapter 13

Posted on Thursday, 14 April 2005

It did not take long for Alexander Darcy to discern that both of his sisters were out of sorts. He knew all the reasons for Lizzy's subdued mood, but he could not comprehend Jane's melancholy. Whilst Jane smiled and chatted amiably throughout dinner, he could detect immense sadness in the depth of those lovely dark eyes. Worried, Alexander wondered if perhaps something had happened during his absence from home.

The general conversation around the family table was sparingly light, as if everyone was trying very hard to keep a pleasant mood, but no one was successful in such an endeavor. It took a sudden squeal of laughter from little Alex to bring genuine smiles on the faces of the Darcy family. It was highly unusual for an infant to have a seat at the family table. The general rule of the ton was for all children to be seen and not heard, and anyone of nursery age should be safely ensconced in such facilities under the watchful eye of their nurses and governess. Fortunately, such social conventions were not practiced at Pemberley. Beneath the quiet and dignified countenance of the Master of Pemberley was a heart of a generous father - he had long welcomed children, and tolerated their inevitable antics with benevolent patience. Indeed, the youngest Darcy enjoyed a place of honor next to his grandfather. For a babe merely five months old, little Alex was exceedingly agreeable and sociable. His bright blue eyes sparkled with curiosity as he scanned the faces around the dining table, and he giggled delightedly at each familiar face.

With such a pleasant diversion, the strained mood amongst the family was alleviated to a remarkable degree. The promised visit of the Brandons to Pemberley excited much discussion as well, and Miranda's pale face glowed with happiness at the prospect of seeing her parents again. As much as she had grown to love her new family, she missed her own parents sorely, and was grateful that they would brave the winter weather to travel from Delaford to Pemberley.

"Well done, son!" said Mr. Darcy with parental pride as Alexander gave his parents detailed accounts of his visits in London and at Rosings.

Mrs. Darcy concurred with her smiles of approval, but added a thoughtful comment. "It still puzzles me exceedingly - how a woman like Madame St. Pierre would give up her special patron so easily."

Alexander hesitated for a long moment before he could answer his mother. He should have known his curious and much too clever mother would not let this alone. He knew that he had to choose his words carefully. He certainly did not wish to tell any blatant lies, but his solemn promise to Lord Braunfield prevented him from divulging the entire truth.

"Madame St. Pierre seemed to be a resilient and resourceful woman. By her own admission, her sudden widowhood some years ago forced her to fend for herself, and she has not fared so poorly, considering her situation. She seemed quite confident that Paris would be a welcome change for her."

"So Lord Braunfield was merely a spectator in this encounter?" persisted Mrs. Darcy. "He did nothing more than make the introductions? Madame St. Pierre agreed to sever all ties with Lord Ashbourne - without any compensation?"

For those obvious points of puzzlement, and for reasons which she could not rightfully explain even to herself, Mrs. Darcy believed that the young viscount had a firm hand in the dealings with Lord Ashbourne's former mistress.

Alexander's silence answered his mother's latest question more fully than his hesitant nod did.

"I shall not press you to disclose more than you are prepared to, my dear heart," stated Mrs. Darcy with an understanding smile.

Mr. Darcy gave his wife a quizzical look upon hearing such a comment, but before he could discuss the matter at length, Mrs. Darcy preempted him by kissing their son lightly on the cheek as she bid him goodnight. "I think your father and I have kept you long enough. You must be quite fatigued from your journey home, and you are due for a well-deserved rest."

Beaming a grateful smile at his mother, Alexander bid his parents a gracious "goodnight" and beat a hasty retreat from his father's study. He nearly leapt up the grand stairway - taking the steps four at a time - thus rejoining his darling wife in a matter of heartbeats.

Mr. Darcy gave a light chuckle as he escorted his wife upstairs at a leisurely pace. "I did not realize how impatient our son was! I should have been a more considerate father and postponed this lengthy talk with him until the morrow."

Mrs. Darcy smiled as she clasped her husband's arm tightly. "You are always very thoughtful, my love. Our son understood our grave concerns, and did not begrudge our eager inquiries."

"Alexander is truly a mother's pride and a father's joy," remarked Mr. Darcy as he kissed his wife's hand appreciatively as they continued to climb the stairs. "Thank you, Lizzy, for giving me such a son."

"You are very welcome," smiled Mrs. Darcy graciously. "You bear equal responsibilities."

"Yes, but I did not have to endure the agony of childbirth!" He grimaced as he recalled such vivid memories.

After a reflective moment, Mr. Darcy asked, "Why do you suspect that Alexander has not disclosed everything to us?"

"My instincts tell me that Lord Braunfield had a greater hand in the entire matter."

"Lizzy!" exclaimed Mr. Darcy with a hint of annoyance. "Do you seriously believe that? If so, I can only imagine Braunfield manipulating the unfortunate situation to secure his own advantage."

"Why must you always suspect the worst from young William Warring?" protested Mrs. Darcy with a growing frown as they entered her bedchamber. "Did you not hide your own vital role in securing Lydia's marriage with George Wickham after their infamous elopement? Lord Braunfield might have been prompted to perform a similarly generous service on our Lizzy's behalf because of his admiration for her."

"Perhaps you are right, but you cannot rightfully blame me for being distrustful of Braunfield. He does not have a sterling reputation, and has yet to earn my trust. Since Thomas Fitzwilliam's betrayal, I cannot help but be harsher in my judgment and sterner in my opinion of every young man."

"I fully comprehend your sentiments. Yet, we should be grateful to Lord Braunfield. Otherwise, our Lizzy might have married Lord Ashbourne without any knowledge of his dark secret! Oh, Will, I dread to imagine the consequences!"

"I shall thank Braunfield personally, but it does not mean that I shall welcome the viscount with open arms!"

Mrs. Darcy was about to speak when her husband held up a weary hand. "Please, my dearest! I can readily see another severe disagreement looming between us! Let us not argue over young Braunfield again! I shall be civil in my words and cordial in my manner in my future encounters with his lordship. Are you content with that?"

"Yes," she smiled. "I only ask for greater civility and forbearance. I must add that I remain as opposed as you are to a courtship by Lord Braunfield of either one of our daughters." As she was making such a declaration, she realized that Lord Braunfield had risen greatly in her estimation. If his love for her spirited daughter proved to be as deep and abiding as his obvious admiration, he would be an excellent match for her.

Mr. Darcy sighed with genuine relief, and said earnestly, "Good! We are in full agreement then! Now, won't you sing my favorite aria for me?"

She arched a graceful brow at him, and replied with a mirthful smile. "Only if you hum along to show your appreciation of my musical talent."

He laughed heartily as he proclaimed, "I have been your fervent devotee these many years! Do you still doubt my sincerity?"

"No! But every woman likes reassurances!"

"Then, I shall be very diligent in my efforts!" he promised solemnly as he claimed her lips for a loving kiss. "I never hear more beautiful music than when I hold you thusly in my arms, my dearest and loveliest Elizabeth!"

Isabella Darcy slept contently within the circle of her husband's strong arms. Alexander, however, remained awake in an alert vigil. He found that he could not take his eyes off his beloved darling. She had grown infinitely dear to him. Even the mere thought of her could induce a palpable surge of rapturous joy within his heart, so it was no small wonder that the bliss was increased tenfold when he held her thusly.

If the truth be admitted, Alexander could scarcely believe the countless blessings in his life - and within the deepest recesses of his mind lurked a constant fear that a sudden fatal illness or accident might befall his wife or child, and he would be robbed of them forever. Of course, he could not confide such nightmarish thoughts to anyone.

He kissed her softly as he admonished himself silently for being such a pessimist at heart. Surely, life was full of uncertainties and tribulations, yet one should not shrink from it. His parents had always taught him to embrace life with exuberance and to trust in God with abiding faith.

Isabella stirred at the warm touch of his lips upon hers, and murmured dreamily, "Yes, my love?"

Alexander pulled her more tightly in his arms before he replied gently, "I didn't mean to wake you. I was merely reflecting upon my parents' sage advice."

Perhaps there was something in his deep voice that alerted her, and she instinctively realized that something was troubling him.

"Is something the matter?" she asked with grave concern as she opened her eyes fully to gaze at him quizzically.

He heaved a deep sigh, and confessed, "Now and then, dark and brooding thoughts invade my serenity. . ."

Isabella caressed his beloved face tenderly as she reassured him, "I have the same fears too - of losing you or our son - but I do not dwell upon them too often. Our lives are in God's hands."

He nodded with a broad smile, quite amazed that she could comprehend his mind so completely. As husband and wife, they were truly two hearts of the same person. His amazement grew even greater when she continued, "Aside from your morbid worries about our son and me, you are also very anxious about your sisters, aren't you?"

"Yes, indeed! Lizzy has a strong and resilient will, and I doubt if her attachment to Thomas Fitzwilliam is so deep that she will remain heartbroken forever. Besides, I know of a worthy man who is most anxious to court her. There are many daunting obstacles before him, but I earnestly wish for his eventual success."

"A worthy man? And you will stand as his champion?" She frowned in deep thought, but suddenly, the look of realization appeared in her fine eyes.

"Surely you do not mean my cousin Lord Braunfield?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Why ever not?" chuckled Alexander with bemusement. "William is truly reformed. He might have been an obnoxious rake, but he is repentant of his dissolute past, and he is fully determined to be a man of integrity and high morals. I have great faith in him."

Isabella was too stunned by her husband's words to speak immediately. She knew that Alexander had taken Lord Braunfield under his wing, but had not realized that their friendship had blossomed into such deep brotherly bonds already. Surely, something must have happened in London to incite such sentiments. Her husband was a prudent and intelligent man, and his faith in Lord Braunfield must be justified by strong reasons yet to be revealed.

"I shall not doubt your judgment in this matter," said Isabella at last, "but I fear that chances for his lordship's success are rather slim. Even if Lizzy is receptive to his attention - fond remembrances of his kisses might incite tender sentiments in her heart - but it is highly doubtful that your parents would ever give their approval of such a match."

It was Alexander's turn to be stunned. "His kisses? You mean to say that Braunfield has already taken the liberty to kiss my little sister?"

Isabella reached out to cup his face with her hand before she explained urgently, "Lizzy confessed it to me in full confidence, although she did grant me the permission to confide in you if I should choose to do so. I do think you should know the truth now. Yes, William did kiss her - under the Great Tree - but he behaved with gentlemanly honor afterwards. Lizzy suspected that he was about to declare himself when she stopped him abruptly. She admonished herself for allowing him to kiss her - apparently he did not force himself upon her; rather, it seemed that the kissing was mutually appreciated."

"Under the Great Tree?" asked Alexander with sudden comprehension. "Rather like our first kiss, I presume?" With an almost impish smile, he captured her lips, and bestowed upon her an ardent kiss that easily invoked the memory of their own first kiss.

"So it seems, by Lizzy's narration," confirmed Isabella breathlessly. "If I were of a superstitious nature, I would have declared that the Great Tree could cast spells upon those sitting beneath it!"

"A spell-casting tree? Rather like a tale from Oriental mythology!" chuckled Alexander. "Well, was my sister duly bewitched or should I call Braunfield out to defend her honor? I have invited Braunfield to Pemberley for the Feast of Epiphany. I shall confront him then."

"You best have a private tête-à-tête with Lizzy first. Speaking of tête-à-têtes, perhaps you should have one with your sister Jane as well."

"Yes, something is amiss with Jane. I noticed her distraction at dinner."

"Jane has been rather listless lately - we all noticed it - but she has persistently refused to confide in anyone. I have tried to detect the root cause of her distress, and have failed in my endeavor. Lizzy, James, Miranda, and my sister Emily were all unsuccessful as well. Jane has been burying herself in her books lately. She exchanges courtesy words with everyone in the household, but nothing beyond."

"Perhaps she is distressed over a certain beau?"

"The most likely cause indeed. Jane has a legion of admirers but no particular favorite."

"Perhaps she has tumbled into love with someone who is not eligible - much like I was with you when my brother James claimed his precedence," mused Alexander. Suddenly, a thought jolted him, and he exclaimed, "Oh no! Is Jane in love with Lord Ashbourne?"

"Your parents had the same presumption, and confronted Jane with that very question already. She had fervently denied having such a secret attachment."

"Fervently? Jane may well be hiding the truth from my parents out of embarrassment -- or out of deference to Lizzy."

"That is why you must talk to Jane."

Alexander nodded in agreement. His siblings had always trusted him with unequivocal faith, and it was his duty and obligation as their eldest brother to protect and guide them. Seeing the growing fatigue in his wife's eyes, he kissed her tenderly. "You must rest now, my dearest. I shall endeavor to resolve every problem within my power to do so."

Isabella smiled, proudly yet mirthfully at her husband. "As you are so gallant and devoted, you must attend to my current dilemma."

"Yes?" he asked with grave concern.

"I do need to sleep, but I do not wish to take my eyes off you!" she murmured softly.

He chuckled heartily as he kissed her. "I suffer from the same dilemma as well - but as I shall see you in my dreams, it proves to be an acceptable alternative."

"An admirable solution indeed," she replied as she nestled closer to him. She showered loving kisses upon him until sleep finally overcame both of them.

They slept thusly in each other's arms. Serenity reigned, as it always did, within their realm of connubial bliss.

Tried as he might, Alexander Darcy failed to discover the root of Jane's despondency. He had sought his sister out on numerous occasions for a private tête-à-tête - their talks were unfailingly amiable and affectionate - but she steadfastly declined to make a full and open confession to him. Alexander quietly sought the advice of his mother. To his dismay, he found that she was as puzzled by Jane as he was.

Whom amongst Jane's admirers would have gained her partiality? Jane was as vivacious as Lizzy, and certainly enjoyed dancing and engaging in social discourse with young gentlemen as any other young ladies. Yet, there was one person she seemed to be unusually shy with when in his company - their cousin Thomas Fitzwilliam. Until proven otherwise, Alexander could make but one presumption: Jane must be secretly smitten with Lord Ashbourne! Given the viscount's recent downfall, it must have induced much pain in her tender heart.

With his sister Lizzy, Alexander fared much better. They had a long and candid talk about Lord Ashbourne. Lizzy's pride and heart seemed much bruised, but her habitually bright spirit was on the mend. She shed but a few tears in his arms, and declared herself a wiser young woman from the bitter experience. Her curiosity in regard to Lord Braunfield's role in his encounter with Madame St. Pierre was strong, but he managed to parry her questions with nonchalant answers, and did not have to resort to lying. Lizzy's incisive mind might have alerted her to the disparity of his answers to the truth, but Lord Ashbourne's impending visit with his family to Pemberley proved to be a great distraction. Lizzy was simply too anxious to engage in any lengthy discussion about Lord Braunfield.

The Feast of Epiphany
6th January, 1840
Pemberley, Derbyshire

The Fitzwilliam clan descended upon Pemberley at the appointed date. It was notable this year, mainly because for the first time in many decades, an air of anxiety existed between the guests and the host family. The mutual respect and affections between the Fitzwilliams and the Darcys had never been so tested until this latest episode. The Darcys had wondered if Thomas Fitzwilliam would accompany his family on this visit, and they would not be unduly surprised if he failed to do so.

The sight of Lord Ashbourne incited a collective gasp of surprise for everyone present. His handsome face was heavily bruised, and he walked with measured steps, as if any sudden movements would cause him pain. He had been the last to emerge from the large carriage, and had averted his face by staring gloomily upon the ground.

"Whatever happened to you, Thomas?" Alexander was the first to voice his concern after the flurry of warm greetings.

Lord Ashbourne grimaced before he murmured almost inaudibly about a violent encounter with a ruffian. James Darcy shifted uncomfortably at the sight of his Fitzwilliam cousin, and Alexander was quick to discern his brother's embarrassment. He turned to eye James rather sternly, and said, "You took matters into your own hands, didn't you?"

James swallowed hard before confessing, "I merely wished to teach our cousin a lesson." Turning to the Earl and Countess of Matlock, he bowed apologetically, and gave a quick but sincere apology. "I beg your pardon, my hot temper got the better of me. I rode over to Beauchamp with no prior consultation with my family. I hope that I did not inflict any permanent damage upon my cousin Thomas."

Lord and Lady Matlock saw the looks of surprise as well as grave concern on the faces of the Darcys, and realized James did not disclose his "visit" with his family. They nodded in quiet but magnanimous acquiescence. Sir James and Lady Fitzwilliam wisely refrained from voicing their opinions in the matter, as their own loyalty towards both families was equally strong. A ghost of a smile, however, appeared on Sir James's face as he glanced at his godson and namesake. It seemed that the revered General was not entirely neutral in the matter after all.

Mr. Darcy turned to his younger son, and spoke with severe disapproval. "You must make further amends for your wild actions, James. Mere words of apology are not sufficient compensation in this matter."

The Master of Pemberley meant only to lecture his own son, but his candid words had the unfortunate implication of being a critique against his cousin's son as well. Lord Matlock narrowed his eyes at his wayward offspring, and Lord Ashbourne wished he were several counties away from Pemberley at the present moment.

Mrs. Darcy moved quickly to diffuse the strains of the moment. She linked arms with both Lady Matlock and Lady Fitzwilliam, and proceeded to welcome them into her grand home. The ensuing chatter and laughter of the ladies soon rendered a much lighter and merrier mood for the entire company. Only Lord Ashbourne remained behind, a gloomy and solitary figure in quiet contemplation.

Taking pity upon his cousin, Alexander turned to him, "Considering the circumstances, it is quite courageous of you to brave this visit. It must be very hard to face my family after such a short spell of time."

Lord Ashbourne shook his head gravely. "I would have locked myself in seclusion if my father did not command my presence."

Alexander smiled with understanding. "You will be a better man for it. I hope you are not suffering from great pains. My brother can be quite formidable."

Lord Ashbourne gave a slight smile, and admitted with humility, "My wounds are healing fast. My face, in particular, only looks worse than any actual pain. In truth, I deserved being pummeled by your brother. I failed to realize the kind of pain I would cause Lizzy when I dashed back to London. I was feeling so miserable, and . . . well, I was thinking of my own selfish needs rather than being as honorable as I should be. All is lost now, I fear, because of my weaknesses." He gazed at his cousin with a pleading look, as if he was hoping that Alexander would champion a renewal of his courtship of Lizzy.

But such a hope proved to be in vain when Alexander informed him without hesitation, "Yes. Once you have lost the good opinion of my sister Lizzy, you have lost it forever. In that particular respect, she is very much like my father."

Lord Ashbourne heaved a sigh of reluctant resignation, and remarked ruefully, "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a fool never realizes what a treasure he has until he has lost it irrevocably."

Alexander nodded in silent agreement, but his mind was already on another matter. He had made a careful observation of his sister Jane when she was present with the rest of their family to greet the Fitzwilliams. Jane had been as concerned about Lord Ashbourne's wounds as everyone else, but she did not appear to be overly despondent at the sight of him. Her iron will was admirable indeed.

Mrs. Darcy asserted her utmost charm as the gracious hostess, and very soon, the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams settled into the familial gathering with their habitual amicability. Alexander sat near his cousin Thomas, and his quiet but formidable strength seemed to be the saving grace for the viscount. Lord Ashbourne regained much of his graceful ease, and soon engaged himself in the lively conversations as well.

The arrival of the Bingleys for the feast day dinner added to the general festive mood of the gathering. The sight of Lord Ashbourne's injured face naturally drew a sense of surprised curiosity, but the Bingleys exercised their gracious restraint, and posed no awkward inquires.

Mr. Bingley, in particular, was in the brightest cheer as he eagerly embraced his little grandson, and cooed playfully at him. Turning to his own son, he remarked mirthfully, "I pray that you will wed soon, Henry. Your mother and I are very eager for more grandchildren!"

"I shall wed by next spring if my beloved grants me her consent," laughed Henry Bingley easily. Seeing the collective look of surprise on everyone's face, Henry added quickly, "I have been courting the cousin of Mrs. James Darcy. Alas, the distance of many counties separates us, but I hope to leave for Delaford very soon."

At these words, Jane Darcy's face grew very pale, but within a few heartbeats, a bright smile reappeared upon her lovely face as she remarked sweetly to Henry. "If you kneel upon your knee and beseech her sincerely, I am sure that Miss Ferrars will accept you without hesitation."

"I certainly hope so! Thank you for your kind wishes, Jane. You are always so considerate and supportive of me!" replied Henry with brotherly affection.

Alexander watched the verbal exchange between his sister and his cousin with growing unease. He had presumed that Jane was secretly in love with Lord Ashbourne, but it was now apparent to him that she harbored a deep attachment towards Henry Bingley instead! The recipient of such tender admiration, unfortunately, was quite oblivious. Henry continued, exalting the graces of Miss Edwina Ferrars, and the friendship that he had gained with the Reverend and Mrs. Edward Ferrars since the wedding of his cousin James to her cousin, Miranda.

"Mrs. Knightley proved correct in her estimation after all," remarked Mr. Bingley with a jovial laugh. "She approached me at Isabella's wedding, and made a predication that my son would find himself in the parson's trap before long!"

"I think Mrs. Knightley was bent upon match-making," said Mrs. Bingley with motherly pride, "and our Henry will make such an excellent husband!"

"Yes, indeed," stated Lord Matlock with approval. After a moment's thought, he abandoned his stern dignity, and added with a jovial grin. "In the unlikely case that the young lady of Delaford should reject your son, I would implore young Henry to cast a favorable eye upon my own daughter Susan."

Lady Susan Fitzwilliam voiced a demure protest. Her lovely face flushed crimson, and she boldly declared herself as being "on the shelf." She glanced at her older brother as she spoke, as if his dishonorable conduct towards Lizzy Darcy had swayed her into such a decision.

Realizing that the present conversation would inevitably lead to an awkward moment, Mrs. Darcy sought to preempt such embarrassment by changing the subject matter. She inquired sincerely after Lord Paxton's health, to which the aged Earl replied with a broad smile. "Despite my chronic gout, my health has never been better, thanks to my dear sister, Mrs. Bingley, who takes such prodigious good care of me. My brother Bingley insists that I take long strolls around Maywood with him daily, and I am pleased to report that I enjoy them immensely. Indeed, I feel uncommonly youthful of late. My only disappointment is the lack of my son's company. William has recently been staying in London, and I miss the young rogue sorely!"

"William has promised to be here for Epiphany," said Alexander eagerly. He was looking forward to seeing his good friend again.

"I fear that my son has lapsed back into some of his old habits," remarked Lord Paxton with a sad shake of his head. "As I am amongst close relations, I do not mind sharing my worries. My bankers in Town have sent me an urgent message, warning me that my son has spent quite a bit of gold on . . .erm. . . questionable prospects lately. William has written to me as well, but he failed to give any plausible explanation for such extravagant spending. I fear that he may be a victim of blackmail, or another type of nefarious plot." Turning to his brother-in-law, he asked quietly, "Perhaps you can force the truth from my son. He has a very high regard for you."

Mr. Bingley nodded solemnly, and promised to do his utmost in the matter. He further enlisted the help of Mr. Darcy and Lord Matlock as well. Alexander Darcy was tempted to divulge the entire truth regarding Lord Braunfield, but his solemn pledge of honor -- again -- prevented him from doing so. Perhaps he could convince William to reveal all the details privately to his father - it grieved him to see the aged Earl of Paxton suffering under such false illusions and disappointment.

Lord Ashbourne's grave expression took on a darker look as he listened to Lord Paxton's words. His hand went involuntarily to his vest pocket. Within its depth was a recent letter from Chloe St. Pierre - in which she expressed such tearful sorrow and such dreadful thoughts on her uncertain future. It angered him to hear that young rogues like Braunfield could be so liberal without remorse or restraint. If only he had similar resources, he thought enviously! He would be able to take care of Chloe with adequate provision - a fitting parting gift in appreciation for her loyal friendship these past three years.

As the families awaited Lord Braunfield's late arrival with growing impatience, the butler approached the Master of Pemberley with a courtesy bow.

"An urgent message, sir, delivered by an express rider."

Mr. Darcy took the envelope from the silver tray, and tore it open. "Lord Braunfield has been delayed," said Mr. Darcy aloud as he scanned the note. "His carriage suffered a broken axle at the town of Ashbourne earlier today, and he will be arriving here much later than expected. He begs for us to dine without him."

"Well, I concur with my son's suggestion," nodded Lord Paxton. "My son seems to be making a habit of delays and detours lately. He has yet to make his promised inspection tour of our estates in Yorkshire."

Alexander was tempted to make a full declaration of his friend's admirable habits of late. He resolved to speak to Braunfield as soon as it was permissible, for he could hardly bear to see Lord Paxton's misunderstanding of his son continue to grow.

Lizzy Darcy had wanted to add a word of disapproval as well, but she bit her tongue and remained silent instead. It was not her concern, she reminded herself fiercely. Whether Lord Braunfield relapsed into his dissolute ways of old, or whether he was on the path to true reformation -- it did not interest her. No matter how much she tried to dismiss him, the image of his handsome face flashed across her mind, and she recalled, with bittersweet emotions, of how wonderful she had felt when he kissed her under the Great Tree that fateful day. . .

Pemberley's guests were treated to a sumptuous feast, while pleasant conversation and laughter flowed as freely as the excellent champagne. By Alexander's estimation, the only person suffering from greater misery than Ashbourne was his sister Jane. By habit, she was seated next to Henry Bingley - but she seemed to be making an admirable effort to converse with gracious cheer and good humor. Alexander found himself glancing anxiously and frequently in Jane's direction. Despite all of her valiant efforts, he suspected that her hidden heartbreak was immense. Did he not experience the same emotions when he was hopelessly in love with his darling Isabella? By God's mercy, he was granted great happiness in the end. Would his sister Jane be as fortunate? And would Lizzy be equally blessed as well?

Isabella felt her husband's anxiety with an uncanny instinct. She caught his eyes - a momentary gaze conveyed his private thoughts as fully as if he had voiced them aloud - and she smiled at him reassuringly. He knew at once that she would do her utmost to help Jane and Lizzy, and he rejoiced again at the blessings of having such a steadfast ally as his wife.

After dinner, the gentlemen retired to the library for a nightcap, leaving the women to enjoy their feminine diversions. Lizzy had wanted to solicit Lord Paxton's opinion on women's suffrage. Perhaps he would speak at the House of Lords in defense of women's rights - but she was prevented from doing so when Lady Matlock insisted upon giving a lengthy apology to her on behalf of her wayward son. Her ladyship implored repeatedly for her to grant Thomas a second chance at courtship. Lizzy thanked the countess for her gracious words, but remained adamant in her refusal.

"How can I trust your son again?" exclaimed Lizzy at last.

"You will find Thomas truly repentant for all his sins and wickedness," insisted Lady Matlock. "He has taken a solemn oath that he will never transgress again!"

"I am very happy for him then," replied Lizzy gracefully, but she added with a note of finality, "and I do wish him well."

Lady Matlock was about to voice another protest when the sounds of an approaching carriage interrupted her thoughts. Within a few moments, loud sounds of shouting were clearly heard. A fierce scuffle seemed to be happening outside the great house, but the darkness of the night prevented anyone from seeing clearly through the windows. The women rose as once, and hurried outside to the front courtyard. There they found the gentlemen present already, with numerous footmen holding large torches to light the courtyard as they investigated the commotion.

The sight of her former suitor fighting with the Viscount of Braunfield was an incredible one for Lizzy. There could be many plausible reasons why the two gentlemen were at each other's throats. Perhaps influenced by her own vanity, Lizzy suspected she was the prime reason. Lord Ashbourne was often jealous of her admirers, and the wildly speculative rumors amongst the ton that Lord Braunfield was interested in her had infuriated him. Could it be such anger may have prompted him to come to blows with Lord Braunfield?

Chapter 14

Posted on Monday, 18 April 2005

As Lord Ashbourne and Lord Braunfield remained locked in the fierce scuffle between them, the Darcy brothers did their valiant best to separate the two combatants, who seemed bent upon fierce vengeance against each other.

"Stop!" commanded Alexander sternly as he held Lord Braunfield back whilst he used his muscular body to shield him from the onslaught of punches from Lord Ashbourne.

James Darcy was equally engaged, half tackling and half dragging his cousin away from the maelstrom. Henry Bingley quickly came to his aid, and soon after, their combined strength enabled them to put a firm restraint upon Lord Ashbourne.

"What demon has possessed you now, Thomas?" James demanded when he finally managed to catch his breath. "You declared that you needed a breath of fresh air when you left the library!"

"I did," declared Lord Ashbourne loudly, "but I came upon Braunfield as he alighted from his carriage. We exchanged a few words and questions, and frankly -- I did not care for his answers!"

Lord Matlock growled at his son, and demanded better clarification. "What words? What questions? Surely, you must remember that you are a guest here, and you cannot pounce upon a fellow visitor!"

Choking back his fury, Lord Ashbourne uttered a barely audible oath. He glared at his adversary as he added, "I found out that Braunfield is the culprit behind my recent troubles!"

"Culprit?" repeated Mr. Darcy thoughtfully as he turned to stare at Lord Braunfield intently. The viscount remained stoically silent as he tried to wipe away the blood that was streaming down from a deep cut near his left eye.

"He was responsible for . . ." Lord Ashbourne stopped abruptly as he finally realized that a large audience had formed around him. Amongst the eager faces he saw his own mother, as well as every one of his female relations. The numerous footmen averted their eyes discreetly, standing still as stone statues.

Lord Matlock seized hold of his son, and said in the sternest voice, "You best come along with me, boy. Whatever the provocation, I have no interest in it!" Nodding to Lord Paxton, he added ruefully, "Please accept my sincere apologies on my son's behalf." Turning to the Master of Pemberley, Lord Matlock asked "Darcy, do you have any openings for an apprenticeship at your Ridgemont coal mines? I think this popinjay of mine is long overdue for a harsh lesson in life!"

Mr. Darcy nodded with grave concern, and said, "I stand ready to help in whatever capacity you may require of me."

"And I as well!" Sir James Fitzwilliam tendered his offer with equal sincerity, adding grimly that a tour of duty with the cavalry might produce desirable results as well.

Lady Matlock, of course, gasped at the mention of any physical danger that her only surviving son might encounter - the prospects of being at a coal mine or being in harm's way serving her Majesty's army were equally alarming to her ladyship. But her son was already being escorted back to the library by a very determined group of men, and she could but worry with a mother's tender heart as she followed them in silence.

Alexander rushed to help his injured friend, Lord Braunfield, bracing him with his strong arms. He called out to his sister imploringly, "Lizzy! Lend me a hand with Lord Braunfield!"

Lizzy heeded her brother's plea without hesitation. She placed a clean silk handkerchief upon his wound to stem the bleeding, and urged that they take him indoors immediately.

The close presence of Lizzy Darcy by his side rendered Lord Braunfield into a state of euphoria. He could no longer feel any pain, but breathed in her fragrant scent as if he were inhaling a healing balm. When they sat him down in a comfortable armchair in the drawing room, he gladly surrendered himself to their tender care.

Alexander went off to procure bandages and ointments, while Isabella wished to be with her young son, inviting her mother and sister, Lady Fitzwilliam and Lady Susan to accompany her to the nursery. In addition, Miranda suffered another bout of fainting spells, thus requiring Mrs. Darcy and Jane to promptly escort her upstairs to her bedchamber. Whether it was by design or by coincidence, these series of events effectively left Lizzy and Lord Braunfield alone together.

"Do you feel any dizziness, my lord?" inquired Lizzy politely as she applied steady pressure against his temple. The silk handkerchief was now heavily soaked with blood, but she dared not slacken the pressure. The bleeding must be stopped soon, or it could mean grave trouble.

Lord Braunfield smiled at her, and replied in a low whisper, "My present suffering is not due to my head wound, my dear Miss Darcy, but from a source far more excruciating! I beg you to bestow your tender mercy upon me!"

"I cannot imagine how you can be flirtatious at a moment like this!" exclaimed Lizzy as she drew back from him. Seeing the intense gaze of his eyes upon her, she added hastily, "I . . . I must find my brother! He seems to be taking far too long in bringing the bandages! Now, you must hold this kerchief in place yourself, and keep the pressure upon it. You have suffered a small but deep cut. . ."

"Ashbourne's signet ring seems to have hit a tender spot. I only hope that I shall not bear a permanent scar with the Fitzwilliam coat of arms on my face!"

His irreverent humor caused her to smile, and she remarked appreciatively as she grasped his hand to put it upon the handkerchief. "Your good spirit will ensure a speedy recovery, I am sure, my lord. Now, you must excuse me."

His free hand seized her hand urgently in his as he detained her by his side. "A moment please, Elizabeth!"

She blushed involuntarily at his firm touch and the use of her Christian name, but managed to keep her voice in an unaffected tone. "Yes, my lord?"

He did not answer her immediately, but brought her hand to his lips. He kissed it tenderly as he murmured a confession. "If I should die now - with you by my side - I would die a very happy man."

Lizzy found herself rooted to the spot as his soft-spoken words seemed to thunder in her ears. She realized the implications of his words, and wondered at the depth of his sincerity. He had continued to surprise her with his frank words and his intense looks, and she felt, with great consternation, that her heart was not entirely impervious to such charms.

"Please, my lord! Please don't toy with me!" she pleaded. The look in his dark eyes was mesmerizing, and she wondered how he could look so handsome with blood streaming down the side of his face! Indeed, she found that she could not keep her eyes from his.

In reply, he kissed her hand again before he put it firmly against his heart. She could feel its rapid pounding, and involuntarily, she found herself leaning down ever so slowly towards him. She knew not what had become of her rational mind as the urgent need to kiss him became too overwhelming. Her iron will seemed to dissipate at the sight of his eyes, and the strong measure of bewitchment he managed to assert upon her. She tried to fight against such a dangerous attraction - as a moth being drawn to a bright flame - yet, she knew, that in a matter of heartbeats, she would initiate a kiss of her own! Suddenly, it seemed that her most urgent need was to feel this man's lips against hers again, and nothing else seemed as important!

"Lizzy!" thundered the stern voice of Mr. Darcy behind her, as he strolled into the drawing room, and beheld such an unexpected scene before him. He had long suspected Lord Braunfield of being attracted to his youngest daughter, but he had never imagined she would reciprocate his admiration!

Immediately, the young couple guiltily drew apart - Lord Braunfield with sincere regret that the impending kiss was thusly foiled, and Lizzy, stunned into silence. A look of horrified realization came upon her face as she turned towards her father: she must have seemed a wanton in her father's eyes! What reason could she offer in the way of an explanation when she behaved in such an unladylike manner? With an equal sense of fear and embarrassment, she ran out of the drawing room as fast as she could.

"Well?" demanded Mr. Darcy angrily as he approached the young viscount. He towered over Lord Braunfield as he repeated his question. The look of fury upon his handsome face was evident, but the viscount did not flinch from giving him an honest answer.

"Sir, I love and admire your daughter very much," stated Lord Braunfield earnestly. "I hope to win her heart someday."

If the young man sitting before him has not already been injured, Mr. Darcy might have pummeled him with his own powerful fists himself! Such arrogance and insufferable presumption! He fumed in quiet fury as he took full measure of the young man. Speculating briefly on the possible reasons that had prompted Lord Ashbourne to attack young Braunfield, he recalled how worried Lord Paxton had been when he mentioned his son's unfortunate relapse into his profligate habits of old.

"You are not worthy of my daughter," Mr. Darcy replied firmly.

"I am well aware of that fact, sir," nodded Lord Braunfield with a humble sincerity that surprised Mr. Darcy. "But with your kind permission, I should like to . . ." Whatever he had meant to say was interrupted by the appearance of his own father, Lord Paxton.

"William!" exclaimed Lord Paxton as he finally entered the elegant drawing room. A sudden inflammation of his gouty foot had necessitated a very slow walk back from the courtyard, and the anxiety he felt for his only son was evident upon his aged face.

"Fear not, Father!" smiled Lord Braunfield reassuringly. "I look far worse than I feel at present."

"Even a small facial wound can cause profuse bleeding," stated Mr. Darcy as he examined Lord Braunfield's wound with care. "The cut is deep but clean. Barring any infection, the wound should not pose any serious problems." As much as Mr. Darcy disapproved of the young rogue, it was simply not in his generous nature to wish any undue suffering upon him.

Alexander Darcy finally reappeared with a basin of warm water, and proceeded to cleanse and bind William's wound. He glanced around the room, and was duly surprised that Lizzy was no longer there.

"I gave your sister quite a fright," admitted Lord Braunfield with a self-depreciating smile when he saw the questioning look in his friend's eyes. "She fled the room when your honored father came in."

Alexander saw his father's furious face - a look that was reserved for the likes of George Wickham. He knew at once that his father thought the worst of Lord Braunfield.

"I give you fair warning, young William," declared Mr. Darcy as his words confirmed Alexander's assessment. "If you dare meddle with my daughter Lizzy's feelings, I shall have no qualms about teaching you the severest lesson. I say this in front of your noble father and my son as witnesses; a threat -- as well as a promise."

Lord Paxton shook his head sadly, and added his own admonishment. "My dear son! I had hoped that you learned your lesson when Sir David Lexington shot you. Your efforts at self-reformation had been admirable, but alas, you have failed after all. I have received word from London - my bankers and solicitor - that you have squandered yet another small fortune - on a former mistress no less!"

Lord Braunfield sat sphinx like in silence, but Alexander could no longer keep his peace. "William!" he exclaimed, "I know you are adamant in keeping secret the role you played in regard to Madame St. Pierre, and I have given you my pledge to keep silent on the matter. But current circumstances have made it imperative for me to disclose all the details."

"No!" protested Lord Braunfield with agitation. "You can't!"

"William," replied Alexander with a calm but firm voice. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder as a gesture of reassurance. "Your father deserves to know the truth, and my father will understand your dilemma perfectly. Although circumstances and events are different, your dealings with Madame St. Pierre are similar to my father's dealings with George Wickham many decades ago."

It was Mr. Darcy's turn to be startled. "How so?" he asked gravely.

Lord Braunfield trusted his friend and mentor for his wisdom and judgment. He gave a weary nod of consent, and Alexander began his succinct narrative. Lord Paxton uttered a cry of joyous delight, and Mr. Darcy was simply too amazed by the unfolding events to make any immediate comment.

"I have misjudged you terribly," said Mr. Darcy at last. "I apologize most sincerely."

Lord Braunfield grasped his extended hand, and shook it in a sign of reconciliation. "Given my past history, I would have done the same if I were in your shoes, sir."

"You have saved my daughter from a marriage with a dishonorable and selfish weakling of a man, and I am very grateful," said Mr. Darcy with a genuine smile. He silently admonished himself for being such a poor judge of character in regard to Ashbourne and Braunfield. After such thoughtful reflections, he added, "In retrospect, you need not have spent so much of your father's gold to pension off Ashbourne's mistress. Ashbourne is unworthy of such generosity, and my daughter had rejected him already."

"I acted with the firm belief that Miss Elizabeth was very much in love with Lord Ashbourne, and I was prepared to do anything within my means to ensure her happiness."

"The sacrifices we all make in the name of love," murmured Lord Paxton reflectively. His mind was on his wife Caroline, and he heaved a rueful sigh. It seemed that the Warrings were not very fortunate in the affairs of the heart.

"Please, sir, I beg you to keep secret what you have just learned. I understand if you need to confide in Mrs. Darcy, but do not speak a word of it to anyone else -- especially not to your daughter Elizabeth."

Mr. Darcy gave his reluctant consent, but understood the underlying reasons of such a request: Lord Braunfield wanted his daughter's love, not her mere gratitude. In such a case, it would certainly be hard for young William to gain Lizzy's esteem. Mr. Darcy could not help but heave an inward sigh of relief.

Lord Braunfield's keen mind could readily discern Mr. Darcy's private thoughts. He knew that the formidable gentleman was not ready to welcome him as his daughter's suitor, regardless of what he had done in secret for her.

"How did Ashbourne find out about your involvement with Madame St. Pierre?" wondered Alexander. "I can think of only one other reason for him to give you such a pounding? Were you fighting over Lizzy?"

"I was defending Miss Darcy's honor, but I think Ashbourne had a different motivation. It seems that his misplaced feelings of offense regarding his mistress had prompted him to vent his anger upon me," explained Lord Braunfield. He gave a wry smile, and continued, "I greeted Ashbourne with a jaunty salute when I arrived. Once I saw the various bruises on his face, I knew something was amiss, yet, I could not resist asking him when the wedding bells would be ringing. He growled fiercely at me, and would have ignored me altogether if I did not declare that it was very fortunate that he was now free of his mistress in London. It became apparent to me that he had no idea of my past association with Madame St. Pierre - he swallowed her sorrowful laments of her widowhood as the gospel truth! I told him he was being a complete idiot - Chloe had toyed with him as a clever cat would with a simple ball of yarn. He shouted back a heated retort and landed a heavy blow upon my face immediately. We exchanged further blows - I hit back as hard as he could muster against me - then everyone came out of the great house to stop the fight."

"I think you should enlighten Thomas Fitzwilliam as soon as it is feasible," suggested Mr. Darcy to his son. "As painful as it may be for him to learn the truth, it is far better for him to face reality than to suffer under any false illusions. It is a very long carriage ride to Ridgemont. You shall have ample time to tell your cousin the sordid tales of his former mistress."

"Ridgemont? Your coal mines?" asked Lord Braunfield curiously.

"Yes," explained Mr. Darcy. "Lord Matlock has decided that his son has been too idle - tenure under my foreman Mr. Goodwin may well make Lord Ashbourne a better man."

"Doing manual labor? Living amongst the miners?" asked Lord Braunfield incredulously.

"My own experience there benefited me immensely," declared Alexander with a confident smile. "I discovered the true meaning of responsible stewardship amongst the good folks of Ridgemont. You are welcome to join us, William, if you feel inclined?"

"With Lord Ashbourne?" asked Lord Braunfield with trepidation.

"Why ever not?" laughed Alexander. "My cousin has made many mistakes, but I believe in the innate goodness of his character. I shall not withdraw my friendship from him, especially when he is in need of a true friend and confidante."

After a reflective moment, Lord Braunfield was in full agreement. "With my father's permission, I shall come along with you. I must warn you, however, that I have led a very pampered life thus far - I may promise to be stalwart, but I shall most likely suffer such a rugged expedition with much ill humor and endless complaining."

"You might surprise yourself, William," smiled Alexander with brotherly affection, "as you have pleasantly surprised even yourself with your reformation thus far. You have already shown your mettle."

Lord Braunfield shook his head, and remarked, "You have greater faith in me than I do in myself. I shall accept your invitation; however, promise me, my honored friend, that you shall put your formidable self between Ashbourne and myself. I do not look forward to being his punching bag again!"

Lord Braunfield's good humor elicited a hearty round of laughter. Mr. Darcy looked upon the viscount with fresh eyes, and for the first time, he realized that the faith his wife and son had in Lord Braunfield was neither misguided nor misplaced.

After her close encounter with Lord Braunfield, Lizzy Darcy hid herself in her own bedchamber, and refused to speak to anyone. As she watched furtively from her window, she was relieved to see the grand carriages of the Fitzwilliams and the Bingleys depart from Pemberley. The holy feast of Epiphany had always brought such celebratory joy to her family, but tonight was the bitter exception.

Whilst she was relieved to find that she could endure Thomas Fitzwilliam's company with equanimity, she was greatly distressed to find herself so attracted to Lord Braunfield. She would have literally thrown herself upon William if her father did not appear at the most critical moment! She admonished herself over and over again for her loss of propriety and discipline, yet, in the deepest recesses of her heart, she felt an incomprehensible longing to be with William, to feel once again the exhilarating warmth of his tender embrace. . .

"Lizzy!" she shouted aloud at herself with a severe reprimand as she studied her own reflection in the large, gilded mirror. How did she ever allow such reckless thoughts to overwhelm her rational mind? She had always regarded the infamous tale of her Aunt Lydia's elopement with George Wickham with disdain and ridicule - how could any young woman be so foolish as to believe herself in love with such a rake, however charming and handsome he might appear to be? Yet, she herself felt such extraordinary attraction towards William Warring - a rake with an infamous past! This night, William did not even tempt her with his own advances - he merely kissed her hand and held it against his heart - and she was nearly lost! If she had kissed him - of her own accord - he would have undoubtedly enfolded her in his arms and returned her kisses with pleasure! If her father had come upon them a few minutes later, she couldn't imagine the consequences!

"Lizzy?" There was a gentle knock on her door. "May I come in?"

Recognizing the sweet voice of Isabella, Lizzy rushed to welcome her best friend into her bedchamber.

"Oh, Bella! A greater fool than I is yet to be born!" lamented Lizzy in floods of tears.

"I sincerely doubt that, my dear Lizzy!" replied Isabella as she embraced her sister, and stroked her hair with concern.

"When you hear what I am about to relate to you, you will surely think otherwise!" exclaimed Lizzy. Between heavy sobs, she made a full confession to Isabella on what had occurred -- or nearly occurred -- in the drawing room when she and Lord Braunfield were unexpectedly left alone.

"William . . . Lord Braunfield is not someone I wish to fall in love with!" she declared resolutely.

"Yet, you are already smitten with him, aren't you?" observed Isabella sagely.

"Yes . . . No . . . Oh, Bella! I must stop it! This is sheer madness! How can I love such a man when I neither like nor esteem him?"

"Perhaps, with better acquaintance, you may well change your opinion of him. Alexander certainly holds William Warring with great affections in his heart. I believe that he has probable cause to justify such feelings."

"My brother is always so generous. He has never turned away anyone who is in need. I fear that he may be taken advantage of someone who may be conniving enough to bend him to his own will!"

Isabella could well comprehend Lizzy's fears, however inflated they might be by this latest encounter.

"Never again!" Lizzy said with the most solemn voice before Isabella could appease her. "Never shall I succumb to a man's charm without prior assurances of his sterling character and moral values!"

Seeing that Lizzy's stubbornness would prevail, Isabella graciously reassured her of their deep friendship, and promised to support her in any way.

The remarkable turn of events placed Mr. Darcy in an awkward situation. It was not often that he erred in his incisive judgment, but it was apparent that he was grievously wrong in regard to Lord Braunfield. He dreaded making a full confession to his darling wife. He feared not so much that she would gloat over his mistakes and shortcomings, but because he did not look forward to being made sport of because of his stubbornness.

When Mrs. Darcy heard the astounding tale of Lord Braunfield's gallantry, she smiled and gave her husband a tender kiss. "Such a noble and selfless deed - it rather reminds me of someone very dear to me! Perhaps young William is turning into a veritable paragon after all!" With an innocent look, she added, "I wonder if the name William holds any special significance? What is your opinion of this, my darling, Will?"

Mr. Darcy shook his head, although smiling at his wife's jest and conceded gracefully, "I regret my prejudice against Braunfield, but I remain adamant in my stern judgment."

"William does show much promise," stated Mrs. Darcy with a warm smile.

"Well, until he proves his transformation to be a lasting one, I am inclined to think it is wise to keep our daughter away from him."

"You fear that Lizzy does not know her own heart?"

"Yes, I do! I believe that she is at a very vulnerable period in her life - and she must not be hurt again. I shall stand between her and every young buck of the ton to secure her tranquility of mind."

Mrs. Darcy gave her husband a gentle kiss, "Do you promise to step aside when our daughter is ready to brave risking her heart again?"

"I do," murmured Mr. Darcy, who took advantage of the two small but significant words to signify not merely an answer to his wife's question, but also a reaffirmation of his love for her. The kiss that followed sealed his promise completely.

Chapter 15

Posted on Wednesday, 27 April 2005

Not for the first time during the long journey from Derbyshire to the Ridgemont mines in Northumberland did Alexander Darcy wonder at the wisdom of inviting Lord Braunfield to join him and his cousin Lord Ashbourne. When he extended his invitation to William, it had seemed such a fine idea - the journey would present ample opportunities for reconciliation.

Reality, however, had proved otherwise. Sitting between two brooding viscounts who barely tolerated each other's presence was an ordeal. Alexander felt like a human shield between two contentious warriors. Every word exchanged between William Warring and Thomas Fitzwilliam was like a sharp dagger, verbally stabbing at each other rather than having any conversation that bore semblance to civil discourse. It was understandable that his cousin was in a foul mood, mused Alexander.. The Earl of Matlock had forced this journey upon his son, and promised him an arranged marriage upon his return to Beauchamp. It was a bitter pill to swallow, to be sure, when such a gloomy future was caused by one's own follies. The mere presence of Lord Braunfield seemed to aggravate his cousin's moodiness, and it was evident that Braunfield did not have the patience to suffer fools.

It grieved Alexander greatly to see such animosity between the two, because he held both of them in deep brotherly affection. He did his valiant best to initiate a reconciliation between the two, but succeeded only in securing a silent truce. Finally, he followed his father's advice, and gave a faithful account of the encounter with Madame St. Pierre, sparing no details in his narrative.

Lord Ashbourne sat in stunned silence as he listened to his cousin in rapt attention - of her words and behavior, and the generous settlement which Lord Braunfield had brokered with her in order to secure her consent to relocate to Paris. As the shock gradually wore off, he voiced a string of protests -- yet again -- in defense of his former mistress. Perhaps the sudden realization that he owed a debt of gratitude to Lord Braunfield caused him great distress as well.

Lord Braunfield was tempted to throttle Lord Ashbourne for being such a complete fool, but he wisely held his tongue. If he spoke out, he might well inflame Ashbourne's grudge against him, and a closed carriage, however large and comfortable, was not a suitable place for another round of fisticuffs! Moreover, he was justly preoccupied with infinitely tender thoughts of his beloved Elizabeth instead. Every word and every gesture they had exchanged that evening at Pemberley had been indelibly etched in his mind. Indeed, if he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel her gentle hands against his face; the look of yearning deep within her glistening, dark eyes as she bent down -- surely to bestow a kiss upon him! If only her father did not have such a firm and quick step! He furrowed his brows briefly at the memory of Mr. Darcy, before smiling dreamily to himself again. He was not such a fool to believe that it would be easy to win her heart or her parents' approval; but he could well rejoice that Elizabeth was not entirely indifferent to him.

With such pleasant thoughts, Lord Braunfield found that he could turn to look upon his fellow viscount with a certain sense of compassion and forgiveness as they neared the end of their journey. If anyone could make Ashbourne see reason, it would be Alexander, and he gladly entrusted such a mission to the most stalwart of men.

Their arrival at Ridgemont was greeted by an enthusiastic crowd. The two viscounts stood in awe at the outpouring of goodwill by the people of Ridgemont.

"The triumphant return of a beloved hero," muttered Lord Braunfield to himself in amazement as the loud cheers and thunderous applause for Alexander Darcy continued unabated for a long time. Like many others, he had heard tales of the Darcys startling transformation of a desolate place into one of the best coal mines in the Pennies. The truth of it, however, exceeded his expectations.

A towering giant of a man - broad and plain faced, with a flaming red beard and hair to match - advanced forward to greet the arriving party. Close by his side was a petite woman with sharp, intelligent eyes.

"Welcome back, Master Alexander!" Jack and Polly Goodwin said in unison. He bowed, and she curtsied politely to the two handsome gentlemen standing in such stiff awkwardness.

Alexander shook hands with his trusted overseer, bestowed a light kiss upon Mrs. Goodwin's work-worn hand, and acknowledged the effusive crowd with an enthusiastic wave.

"It is good to be back," smiled Alexander as he made a quick introduction of his companions to the Goodwins and the two assistant foremen, and their families.

"I shall do my very best to serve you, sir," vowed Jack Goodwin as he bowed respectfully and added, "And to you, my lords." If Goodwin had private doubts about having the two pampered aristocrats as his apprentices, the good man kept such thoughts to himself. An express letter from the senior Mr. Darcy, which had arrived two days prior, contained detailed instructions, and Goodwin was resolved to comply as best as he could with his master's wishes. The kindness within Goodwin's heart easily matched his formidable physical stature.

"Dear me! You must be worn out by your long journey!" exclaimed Mrs. Goodwin with maternal concern. "I have prepared a hearty meal for you, and your lodgings are ready as well." She was already directing their valets, presently laden with sundry pieces of luggage from the second carriage, to their lordships' new abodes at Ridgemont. Alexander was once again accompanied by the younger and now more seasoned, Coxwell, instead of the faithful but older Briggs who remained behind at Pemberley. Coxwell led the way, with a cheerful and helpful demeanor that complimented Mrs. Goodwin's warm hospitality.

Alexander suffered no illusions that this present stay with the two viscounts would be an easy one, but he felt much more optimistic than he did during the long carriage ride. The hardworking and humble folk of Ridgemont were more than his employees - they were his friends, and now, they would have to be his allies in his assigned task of making two dandified popinjays into worthy, reliable stewards.

On a bright, wintry morning - a fortnight after their arrival at Ridgemont - Alexander Darcy set about to make an updated survey of the coal mines and its environs. He was proficient in his work, and before long, his task was half finished. Atop a bluff overlooking the coal mines, he took a reprieve from work, and sat in solitary and meditative silence. The brisk fresh air was invigorating. He took out his drawing pad to make a quick sketch of the view, and penned a loving sonnet to his wife. If she could not share this tranquil moment with him, he would bring it to her on parchment. How he missed his darling wife and son! These frequent separations were hardly bearable, and his heart ached for them in a dozen different ways. He closed his eyes for a long moment, and could almost imagine them sitting close by his side - his Bella tender and loving, and their son chuckling and cooing with sheer delight. The glow of their love reached him as if they were sending it over the distance from Pemberley, and he prayed that they felt his love for them in the same way. . .

When he finally brought himself out of his reverie, he turned his thoughts to his two protégés, and tried to make an objective assessment of them thus far. Accustomed to palatial surroundings and the pampered care of a large retinue of servants, the two viscounts had great difficulty in adjustment to such stark living conditions. Even their valets were not entirely pleased with their present employment, but as devoted servants, they carried on with their duties as best they could. The first week was the hardest - coarse food, hard beds, and freezing cold being the main cause of suffering. By the second week, everyone had finally settled into a daily routine with reluctant patience.

From his high vantage point, Alexander could see the lonely figure of Lord Ashbourne - prodding around Ridgemont like a doomed man. Although he was at too great a distance to discern any details, he could safely wager that the grim look on Thomas Fitzwilliam's face was perpetually present. His generous heart could not help but feel compassion for his cousin. Whatever inner demons Thomas might still be battling, he seemed determined to serve his penance with quiet dignity and fortitude. It was certainly admirable that he complied with whatever task assigned to him with nary a complaint.

By contrast, Lord Braunfield was unfailingly boisterous and jovial. True to his word, he did complain loudly upon his arrival about everything - the stark environment, the foul smell in the air, the freezing cold weather, the spartan accommodations, and whatever other sundry matters he could think of. Yet, beneath such verbal malcontent was an unfaltering sense of mirthful humor and goodwill. Lord Braunfield often made a mocking jest of doing manual work - of which neither viscount was expected to perform. Big Jack Goodwin, in particular, made it an iron rule that none of the gentlemen could venture within a hundred yards of the mining tunnels - he would not risk another cave-in accident with any one of them trapped in deadly peril. There were plenty of repairs and building to be done, and upon witnessing Alexander's dedicated ease in working with his fellow men, both viscounts were justly inspired to do the same.

After suffering much aches and pains caused by such unfamiliar physical exertions, Lord Ashbourne eagerly took to physical work as a means to vent his frustrations in a positive way. Lord Braunfield was certainly not expected to perform any manual work - but he eagerly engaged in all types of tasks as well, and laughed heartily at his ruined clothes and blistered hands at the end of each day. His right knee must have caused him great discomfort, if not acute pain, but on that score, he never said a word or used it as an excuse to exempt himself from physical work. For this, he easily won the friendship of many of the people at Ridgemont.

Mrs. Goodwin, in particular, took a special liking to Lord Braunfield, and spoiled him with motherly concern. Perhaps it was his habit of eating all the simple but delicious meals with such relish that had endeared him to her. Or, perhaps, it was Lord Braunfield's easy rapport with the local children that had made him her favorite over the brooding and reserved Lord Ashbourne. Jack Goodwin's devotion to the Darcy family was prodigiously strong, and he undertook his difficult assignment of having two spoiled noblemen as his apprentices with methodical resolve. He did not take either viscount to heart the way he did with the Darcys, but he was a fair-minded man, and he gave earnest words of approval at any signs of improvement.

"I would never have imagined you a Pied Piper!" remarked Alexander one afternoon as he saw Lord Braunfield with a flock of young children trailing behind him. "All the children here are quite enthralled by you."

"It has come as a pleasant surprise to me as well, who would have thought that I bear such equanimity with children? I did not have a happy boyhood - cloistered away at Rockhurst was lonely and miserable, to say the least!" laughed Lord Braunfield jovially. "I am teaching the little ones how to play cricket, and in turn, they are teaching me all the childhood games that I never knew!"

Alexander shook his head with a hearty laugh, and admonished him gently, "I am glad to see that you are having a second childhood, William. You must, however, devote more time to serious matters."

"I assume you mean the tedious business of keeping a ledger and other equally mundane business matters? Let me guess," as Lord Braunfield ticked off the items on his fingertips. "Dealing with the sewage, digging new wells for clean drinking water, setting the school curriculum for the children at Ridgemont and ordering food provisions and miscellaneous supplies for the workers, et cetera, et cetera?" asked Lord Braunfield with a frown, before suddenly brightening at a new thought. "You are right, Alexander. I should be of good cheer and attend to the necessary business at hand."

With that, he bowed with a flourish, and limped his way to the overseer's lodge. Alexander stared after his friend for a long moment, still amazed that William had transformed from an obnoxious cad into such an agreeable fellow. Why, he could be another Henry Bingley!

The thought of his cousin Henry caused Alexander to plunge into a brooding mood of his own. Before he left Pemberley, he had managed to extract a confession of the heart from his sister Jane. She finally admitted to being in love with Henry, and cried a river of tears at the impending engagement of Henry with the pretty daughter of the Reverend and Mrs. Edward Ferrars of Delaford. Whilst Alexander tried his best to comfort his sister, he knew the prospect of a change of heart on Henry's part from Miss Ferrars to Jane was very slim indeed. Like his father, Henry was a man of principle and honor - if he had pledged his heart to Miss Ferrars, it was unlikely that he would break his troth.

Isabella had promised to talk to her twin brother, Henry, to ascertain whether Henry held Jane in deeper regard than of brotherly love. But, Alexander had left home before such a meeting had taken place. He was anxious for news from his wife, and was understandably concerned that a fortnight had already passed with no word from Pemberley.

Many an evening, Alexander found Lord Braunfield engrossed in reading political treatises.

"I did not think that you would be so reform-minded," remarked Alexander as he glanced over the titles of his friend's books and periodicals.

"There are a myriad of perplexing political and social problems confronting our times. I have yet to make a firm stand, but I can readily comprehend the arguments put forth by different political parties and their adherents. There are a few weighty and controversial issues, however, that have attracted my immediate attention, and I am bent upon finding the sensible and compassionate solutions to them."

"Such as suffrage for women, labor reforms, and inheritance laws, I presume?" smiled Alexander.

"Yes," acknowledged Lord Braunfield with open candor. "As I admire your sister Elizabeth because of her strong views -- not despite them -- I wish to understand her as completely as I possibly can."

"A very prudent course of action," said Alexander approvingly, "if you wish to court her someday."

"I have written down some of my thoughts regarding women's suffrage," he confessed as he handed his friend a long parchment. A firm and graceful hand had filled the parchment with a lengthy composition.

Alexander glanced at the title - Arduum sane munus - and agreed wholeheartedly, "Very aptly named. It is a truly arduous task! For those who wish to secure such political reforms, and for those who still needed to be enlightened! This essay looks promising - I shall read it presently."

"Thank you. I have sent forth another copy of this to a friend. I have yet to learn of what my friend thinks of it."

"This friend of yours . . . is it someone of my own acquaintance?" asked Alexander curiously. Did Lord Braunfield dispatch such an essay directly to Lizzy? If so, she surely did not mention it to anyone! Very puzzling indeed!

Lord Braunfield did not answer him, but gave him an impish smile instead.

"Come, William! Confess!"

"I shall confide in you very soon - but not at the moment. Now, I must beg you, my valiant friend, to put in a good word for me with Elizabeth," pleaded Lord Braunfield earnestly.

"You are not confident enough to win Lizzy yourself?" asked Alexander in mock surprise.

"I have the necessary courage, but it will certainly put the odds of winning her heart greatly in my favor if I have you as my champion!"

"My sister has a strong will and independent mind - my words alone will not sway her heart," stated Alexander firmly. "Moreover, being such a spirited and intelligent young woman, she requires a strong -- indeed -- an enlightened man to appreciate her fully."

"I believe myself to be such a man," said Lord Braunfield plainly, without any false pride. "My self-betterment - so much inspired by your sister - is a hard-earned achievement, and one which I am determined to never forfeit."

Alexander nodded in thoughtful silence before he said, "So you hope that Lizzy will choose you over her legion of admirers?" It was more of a statement than a question, and there was a definite look of approval in his eyes.

"I believe that I comprehend and value her ambitions more fully than any of her potential suitors can - more so than Lord Ashbourne ever did. Moreover, I have immense patience with feisty and willful women - my own mother is very formidable in her own nature, and I have great equanimity for her. I sincerely believe that your sister is more in the mode of your dear mother, and her passion for reforms stems from her generous heart and her exuberance for life. I truly believe myself to be as appreciative of her as her most worthy suitor. I shall endeavor to do all I can to win her heart!" He paused for a thoughtful moment, and added solemnly, "Yet, I know that Elizabeth can barely tolerate me - I seem to upset her with my mere presence."

"But she seemed to tolerate your kisses well enough?" asked Alexander suddenly.

"So you know about our encounter under the Great Tree?" asked Lord Braunfield with a grimace, though he did not try to conceal the truth.

"Yes. Lizzy confided to Isabella, and by extension, to me as well. However, I promise I shall not divulge what happened to anyone else."

"I would be lying if I claimed that neither one of us enjoyed the experience," came the candid response. "I have held many beauties in my arms before, but I have never been so bewitched by any other. I know now, with the firmest conviction that my heart now beats only for Elizabeth. I cannot say the same for her however - she seems to be attracted to me against her own will and judgment." His mind was filled with images of their near-kiss that night at Pemberley, and he was amazed to realize that such a memory was infinitely more precious to him than any previous experiences of passion he had encountered. He knew now, more than ever, that he loved her utterly and completely.

"Perhaps it is only natural that she is apprehensive of risking her heart so soon after her disappointment with Thomas Fitzwilliam," observed Alexander.

"Yes, you speak the truth. I have Ashbourne to blame for breaking her heart, and putting her on guard against all men. Compounded by my regrettable past, I fear that she may never grant me a chance at courtship."

Alexander was pleased that William had trusted him with such a candid confession. Their friendship was relatively new, but it was already cemented by mutual trust and respect. He found William's unflinching honesty an exceptional virtue, and his willingness to receive criticisms with humility a redeeming merit.

"I shall do what I can to help you," smiled Alexander as he patted his friend on the back as a gesture of encouragement. "Be not afraid, William."

Lord Braunfield grinned, and declared, "Amat victorica curam is my family's motto."

Translating from Latin, Alexander repeated the Warring motto, "Victory favors those who take pains?"

"The motto of a warrior. Like your honored ancestor, mine fought alongside William the Conqueror at Hastings as well."

"A very fitting motto!" smiled Alexander. "Perfectly applicable to you."

"As I am taking great pains - intellectually, emotionally, and -- may I add, physically as well?" He grimaced slightly as he touched his right knee.

"You should not push your damaged knee too hard, William. You must rebuild your strength gradually - keeping a punishing pace may have detrimental results instead."

"I am spurred on by my fervent wish - to waltz again with your sister when we are in London for the Season."

"As inspiring a thought as any, I suppose!" laughed Alexander. "I promise that you will waltz with Lizzy again, even if I have to bribe the musicians to play the music at a much slower tempo!"

A high fever befell upon Lord Ashbourne, and confined the viscount to the sick bed. As the fever raged on for over two days, Mrs. Goodwin feared the worst.

"Scarlet fever?" whispered Jack Goodwin with evident fear in his voice as he looked over his wife's shoulder as she finished with her administration of a medicinal draught to her patient. His lordship appeared to have fallen asleep immediately.

Goodwin thought of the large number of miners and their families at Ridgemont. A fierce winter storm had forced everyone to remain indoors, and many had fallen ill these past few days. The young doctor that the Darcys had hired as resident physician of the Ridgemont mines was ill as well, nursing a severe chest cold in his own bed.

"Pray to God! No!" Mrs. Goodwin whispered back with great trepidation. They had lost a precious child to scarlet fever some years before, and the tragic loss was still raw. The stalwart woman took a deep breath to steel herself, and added, "But I do not see any red botches on the skin, and his lordship has not complained of any soreness of the throat."

"Best to isolate the patient," said Lord Braunfield as he strolled into the sick room. He cast a cursory glance at the sleeping form on the bed, and was justly startled by the sight of Lord Ashbourne's feverish face and the painful groans emitting from his parched lips. In genuine concern, he asked the Goodwins,, "Is his lordship better today?"

"About the same, my lord," replied Mrs. Goodwin grimly as she curtsied to Lord Braunfield. "I fear that if his lordship's fever does not break soon, he may be in for a very bad spell."

"Bathe him!" commanded Lord Braunfield suddenly.

"In water, my lord?" asked Jack Goodwin dumbly.

"Yes, that's the usual practice for bathing, my good man," smiled Lord Braunfield patiently, with a quick realization that bathing was considered a rare luxury, and not a necessity, around these parts.

"Lord Ashbourne will catch the death of cold in his lungs!" said Mrs. Goodwin as she voiced her protest at such a strange idea.

"No, he won't," reassured Lord Braunfield. "I was a very sickly child. Whenever I had a high fever, my nurse used to let me sit in a tub of lukewarm water, and I would always feel much better afterwards."

"Her ladyship approved of such . . . unusual treatments?" asked Mrs. Goodwin incredulously as she referred to his mother, Lady Paxton.

"My mother barely spent any time at Rockhurst during my childhood. She neither blessed nor forbade such practices because she was not aware of them," explained Lord Braunfield nonchalantly. "Administer the soaking bath now, and his lordship's fever will likely come down."

The Goodwins exchanged a doubtful look, and wondered if they could defy the order of a viscount. How they wished that Master Alexander was there to make such a decision, but he had gone to Durham for a physician.

"Perhaps we should wait upon Mr. Darcy's return, my lord," said Jack Goodwin at last.

"He has been gone for two days - the inclement weather must have played havoc on the country roads," remarked Lord Braunfield. "I shall speak directly to Lord Ashbourne now, and ask for his consent."

With a determined look, Lord Braunfield walked to the sick bed, placed a firm hand upon Lord Ashbourne's shoulder to rouse him out of his feverish sleep, and briefly explained his intention.

Lord Ashbourne gazed up at him with feverish eyes, and whispered hoarsely, "Do whatever you must! Anything is preferable to this infernal burning within my body."

Having secured his consent, Lord Braunfield directed the valets to make preparations for such a bath. The Goodwins could do nothing but keep their fears private, and prayed for divine help in such a matter.

Lord Braunfield approached the sick bed as quietly as he could, not wishing to disturb the patient. The young woman in attendance paused in her assigned task of sponging a cool rag upon the viscount's face, and smiled brightly in greeting.

Lord Ashbourne opened his weary eyes as he became aware of the presence of someone new by his bedside. Upon seeing Lord Braunfield, he whispered softly, "It seems that I owe you yet another favor!"

Lord Braunfield gave a light chuckle in response. He nodded to the young woman, and dismissed her with a lordly smile. "I shall sit with him for a spell. Mrs. Goodwin has a hot supper ready for you."

"Oh, thank you, my lord!" replied young Molly as she curtsied respectfully, and made a hasty retreat from the room.

"How are you, Ashbourne?" inquired Lord Braunfield with genuine concern. "I dare say you look much better than you did before."

"I feel a lot better," replied Lord Ashbourne in a weak voice, but a slight smile appeared upon his face as he added, "Those lukewarm baths have worked wonders! My fever finally broke! Now, I feel very weak, but I am lucid and no longer on fire! Thank you, Braunfield, for your timely intervention!"

"Once you are back on your feet, Ashbourne, I shall not hesitate to collect repayment for all the favors I have granted you thus far! Until then, I want you to rest and regain your health and strength fully."

Lord Ashbourne was amazed to find such friendliness in a man with whom he had hardly exchanged a civil word, and whose reputation of old had been most unfavorable. He remarked as much, and his words invoked a hearty laughter in response.

"You will see in me a much different man - a far cry from my greener days," stated Lord Braunfield amiably as he took a seat, stretching out his long legs for a rest. He rubbed his right knee absently - his damaged knee no longer hurt as badly as it once did, but the dull ache was persistently chronic.

"I have brought you a new herbal elixir from Mrs. Goodwin. It smells like the devil, and probably tastes even worse. But Mrs. Goodwin swears by her concoction, and insists that it will bring you a speedy recovery." He uncorked the glass bottle as he spoke, and a vile scent instantly emitted from it.

Lord Ashbourne grimaced, and muttered that he would not drink such a foul liquid.

"I have been commanded to pour this down your throat whether you like it or not!" replied Lord Braunfield with an impish smile. "Needless to say, it will be my very great pleasure to exact such a torture upon you - in repayment for the beating you gave me at Pemberley!"

Lord Ashbourne groaned, but managed a ghost of a smile. "You take delight in taking your sweet revenge now, don't you?"

Lord Braunfield let out a loud laugh, and stated, "Revenge? No, sir! I believe in fair play. I wish for your quick recovery, so you and I can have another bout - a fair one this time, with an impartial referee."

"Forgive me," said Lord Ashbourne suddenly as he tried to prop himself up from the bed. "You were right - I was a complete fool regarding Madame St. Pierre."

Lord Braunfield had gallantly come to his aid. "You are not the only man to fall victim to the arts and allurements of a scheming woman. My main quarrel with you was not over Chloe, but with your gross negligence of Miss Darcy's feelings, and your lack of chivalry in defense of her honor."

"Yes, I behaved shamefully, and I betrayed the faith and trust of so many, especially of Lizzy," lamented Lord Ashbourne contritely. "It was a severe shock to be told that Chloe St. Pierre was not as faithful and honest as she seemed. Her last letter to me was filled with such heart-rending words!"

"What tales of woe did she invent?" asked Lord Braunfield curiously. To his surprise, Lord Ashbourne handed the letter to him, and granted him permission to read it.

Lord Braunfield perused the letter, and shook his head at the lies that Chloe St. Pierre had continued to weave in her attempt to trap her lover within her web. He looked up at Lord Ashbourne when he finished, and found the young lord with his head bowed in defeat.

"Veritas vos liberabit," said Lord Braunfield gravely. "The truth will set you free."

"Perhaps it has already, but it is too late. My cousin Lizzy has terminated my courtship. Now, I have but an arranged marriage to look forward to," confessed Lord Ashbourne gloomily

"I have been in your shoes before, so I can well comprehend your disappointment and frustrations. It is a hard but necessary lesson," remarked Lord Braunfield with the air of a philosopher. "Take comfort that it did not take a couple of bullets to open your eyes to reality."

"Well said," conceded Lord Ashbourne, feeling a sudden rapport with the man sitting beside him. "Please burn that letter for me. I wish to have nothing more to remind me of such a woman!"

"I shall need it as proof that Madame St. Pierre had violated the terms of our agreement. My financial support of her was conditional upon her promise that she would refrain from making any further contact with you. Since she has so blatantly broken her promise, I am under no further obligations to be her patron. I must alert my agent in Paris of these new circumstances."

"Do what you must," replied Lord Ashbourne meekly. "The heartless vixen will find another gullible fool soon enough!"

Lord Braunfield took pity upon him, and said gently, "However misguided and misplaced your attachment to Madame St. Pierre might have been, your sense of loyalty was evident. If you pledge your heart to someone worthy, you may have the love and companionship that you obviously craved so desperately. Your parents will certainly choose someone sweet and demure for you."

"There is none like Lizzy," muttered Lord Ashbourne, more to himself than to present company.

"I shall not quarrel with you on that point," smiled Lord Braunfield pleasantly.

"You intend to win her for yourself?"

Lord Braunfield smiled again as he answered placidly, "Miss Darcy is a very sensible young lady. She will choose whoever is worthy of her."

"And you consider yourself such a man?" demanded Lord Ashbourne heatedly.

"Well, not yet," Lord Braunfield continued earnestly, "but I must admit that I am in love with her, and shall do my utmost to win her heart someday - completely and unequivocally. It may come to naught, but I shall not lose hope yet."

"I was the greatest fool to lose such a treasure! How could I have cared for Chloe when Lizzy was willing to give me her heart?"

"Perhaps it will be a question that will haunt you always, but you have to look towards the future. As your cousin Alexander is so fond of saying - your life is your own, make it a worthy one!"

Their candid talk brought about a new understanding that neither one had anticipated. It did not signify that their bond was of a brotherly nature. Rather, it was more of a grudging acceptance, and one which led to cordiality when in the company of the other.

Lord Braunfield marveled once again at the healthy influence Alexander Darcy had upon him - in the days of old, he would never had such grace and patience with anyone, let alone with someone he did not hold in high esteem or affection. Life was full of surprises indeed!

Continued In Next Section