strangely unobtrusive, fading into the background and doing nothing to draw attention.
Darcy managed to douse his rage over Wickham. His natural levelheadedness and self-discipline were too immense to falter for long. The few times Wickham was in his presence Darcy ignored him, by all appearances indifferent. But he noticed everything, observed his enemy’s tiniest gesture or expression, and listened to each nuance in his words. It was subtle, but in those times when the family interacted, Darcy’s hulking proximity to Lizzy and their children was a strong deterrent to Wickham attempting any contact, if he was thinking along those lines, which he gave no indication of.
Daily Lizzy was reminded to be cautious and nightly she was quizzed regarding any accidental confrontations. She strived to halt the instinctive eye rolling, especially when Wickham seemed to be politeness itself and paid neither her nor Georgiana particular mind besides the normal deference. Lizzy did not agree with Darcy’s apprehension, but she knew it was real to him. The constant fretting over his loved ones while pretending serenity was deeply fatiguing and disturbed his sleep, this paining Lizzy greatly and causing her to wish the wedding was sooner so they could depart for London and leave the Wickhams behind.
The day before the wedding she drove Netherfield’s curricle back to their temporary home after a morning at Longbourn. Michael, mesmerized by his brother’s delighted grin and wind-tossed curls, was nestled in the sturdy basket secured on the wide seat between Lizzy and Alexander. The two-and-a-half-year-old was thrilled by the experience, even if they were crawling along at a turtle’s pace.
“Hold on tightly, Alexander. Keep your hands on the rails.”
The admonition was redundant, of course, as Alexander was one of those rare children who followed rules to the letter. Keeping her focus between the well-maintained avenue and her sunnily grinning son, she did not note the approach of a rider until the horse pulled alongside the passenger seat. Alexander turned his bright face to the mounted man, who smiled in return and tipped his hat.
“Master Darcy,” he greeted, looking then to Lizzy. “Mrs. Darcy.”
“Mr. Wickham,” she returned in a level tone.
“I was returning to Longbourn when I saw you leaving, so I followed. We have had no opportunities to converse privately.”
“I have no desire to converse privately with you, Mr. Wickham. Nor would my husband appreciate you accosting me on the road.”
“Ah yes, Darcy. He always did have an overdeveloped sense of control. Of course, I suppose one could argue that that desire to dominate is essential to the Master of Pemberley.”
“Mr. Wickham, I will not allow you to insult Mr. Darcy in front of me and his children.”
He inclined his head. “Forgive me, Elizabeth. I meant no disrespect, truly.” He looked at Alexander, whose smile was beginning to fade from the sensed hostility between the two adults. “I remember a time when Darcy smiled more, laughing and playing as a boy. Your son looks so like him. Rather uncanny.” He looked again to Lizzy. “I think you, Elizabeth, would have preferred that Darcy. The one who was jovial and free spirited, before he grew so serious and dictatorial. That is all I meant.”
“Mr. Wickham, let me be clear. I appreciate my husband precisely as he is and would not prefer him any other way.”
He shrugged, sunny smile in place. “If you say so, Elizabeth. It still baffles me, I confess. The Darcy I know is completely unsuited to you and I admit I have puzzled over the subject since I heard of your marriage. Was it obligation, Elizabeth? You felt you had to marry him after he ‘saved’ your sister from the bad man who compromised her? I know he regarded you at one time but never would have imagined him stooping to marry…”
“Mr. Wickham,” she interrupted, glancing to Alexander. “You do not know me in the slightest or Mr. Darcy. I will not listen to your poison, now or ever. Furthermore, I would appreciate it if you would not address me so informally.”
“Just curious, forgive me. And are we not brother and sister? You can call me George.”
“I think not, Mr. Wickham.” She stressed his name, turning a glare his way. “And as for being your sister, that is a fact I would rather not be reminded of!”
“What a pity. Indeed, I had hoped that your gaiety and plucky wit would have rubbed off on the old man, brought some lightness to his personality. Quite the shame to see it has worked the other way around.”
“Mr. Wickham…”
“Very well then,” he interrupted her angry rebuttal, his own voice and expression abruptly gay with dimples flashing. “We shall change the subject. I must confess it is lovely here in Hertfordshire. I am delighted to be back. Devon tends to be cloudy. And the wind!” He shivered dramatically, winking at Alexander. “At times I fear it may blow me out to sea! Have you felt such winds as that, lad?”
Alexander shook his head. “No, sir.”
“No, I suppose not. Derbyshire is not known for her winds. Beautiful springs and summers are more the standard. I recall, Mrs. Darcy”—he emphasized with a grin—“that you were always one to walk. Miles upon miles. Is this still true?”
“Yes, it is still true.”
“How you must adore the grounds about Pemberley. The endless trails amongst the trees and the pathways through the beautiful gardens surely delight. Mr. Clark is yet head groundskeeper?” Lizzy nodded. “He is a marvel to be sure. One of the finest gardeners in all of England, I daresay. Do you not agree?”
Again Lizzy nodded and kept her eyes straight ahead while her mind furiously wondered how to rid them of his unwanted presence without disturbing Alexander.
Wickham continued as if nothing was amiss, turning his attention to a baffled Alexander. “Do you enjoy watching the plants grow, son? Pulling nasty weeds and playing in the dirt until your fingernails are caked with muck?”
The toddler was further confused, as the epithet “son” was associated with his parents and odd coming from a stranger’s mouth. He glanced to his silent, clearly annoyed mother before meeting Wickham’s beaming face. But politeness was an inherited trait as well as a virtue enforced by his parents, so he responded accordingly. “Yes, sir. Mama show me how to dig and pack seeds and pick flowers. Papa teaches bot… botumy.”
Wickham laughed. “Botany. Yes, Darcy would teach science to a two-year-old. And do you like to walk like your mother, Alexander?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Be sure your mother or nanny takes you to Hyde Park to feed the ducks, Alexander. They live in the smaller lake near the Grosvenor Square entrance.”
“Ducks and frogs at home in our pond. Cook gives us crumbs to feed. Michael ’fraid of ducks, but not me!”
“No. I am sure you are very brave.”
“Papa says I brave boy.”
“I am sure he is right. At Hyde Park, near the pond, are hedges to hide in. And bulrushes along the lake edge. It is great fun and since you are so brave you could hide very well. Play hide and seek, and your nanny would never find you!”
“Mr. Wickham, please do not encourage my son to misbehave!”
“Not to misbehave, but to have normal boyhood fun. Your father and I, when we were boys together, Alexander, had some crazy adventures. Hiding and exploration is what a boy is supposed to do! Yes, son?”
Alexander frowned, thinking carefully, and then shook his head slowly. “No, sir. May scare Nanny if gone long.”
“Oh no, my boy! Nannies expect brave boys to be a little wild! It makes their job fun!”
Alexander held Wickham’s gaze, assessing as typical, with the tiny creases between his brows deepening. Wickham winked as if sharing a great secret. “Just imagine the fun, Alexander. The ducks often lay their eggs in the hedges too, so you may find a treasure while on your quest!”
Alexander thought in silence, finally giving a short, solemn nod.
“Now I see the grave Darcy peeking through. He has a serious bent as his father; however, I hope his humor remains intact. And your youngest, Mrs. Darcy? Is he molded after you with a ready laugh and sparkling eyes?”
Lizzy did not answer, her angry eyes fixed on the road.
“I shall pray that he does. Too much stuffiness is unhealthy, I think. Do not be afraid to test the limits once in
