it. Darcy’s friends were no longer shocked or perplexed by the unexpected choice he had made, all truly caring for Elizabeth and happy for the subtle alterations to Darcy’s severe personality. None of them experienced the same intensity in their marriages, so were honest in not comprehending how stricken Darcy probably was by the recent attack. Still, they did love their own wives and children, empathizing and agreeing with the need for secrecy and protection.
“You know we would not wish for gossip, and desire Mrs. Darcy forget it ever happened. Do not fear from us, but what of your staff or others involved?”
“And what of the legalities?” Stephen Lathrop added his concern to Vernor’s.
“The magistrate was uninterested, for the most part, and there were few queries,” Richard explained to the new arrivals, saving Darcy from answering. He gave the same summary related to Bingley, finishing with a warm smile and glance toward Lady Simone. “My wife took pity upon the pathetic, nearly starved, and dimwitted girl used by Orman and Wickham as a slave and God only knows what else. She has been sent to the Fotherby estate to be employed as a kitchen scullion. That will be a far better life for her.”
“Those of my staff who are aware of anything beyond Mrs. Darcy being ill are trustworthy.” A cloud crossed Darcy’s face, his lips setting in a stern line. “All loose ends have been accounted for,” Darcy concluded decisively, the image of Mrs. Smyth’s rented hack wheeling away from Darcy House a perversely happy one.
Mr. Drury, as if divining Darcy’s train of thought, asked, “Have you interviewed my housekeeper’s sister as yet? I scanned her resume before referring her to Mr. Daniels. It appears impeccable and I can attest to Miss Inglorian’s competence in managing Locknell Hall. If her sister is half as capable, she will be a fine housekeeper for Darcy House.”
“Elizabeth and I have an appointment with her tomorrow. Thank you for the recommendation, but I trust you will understand my caution. I intend to explore all candidates thoroughly and not be hasty in hiring. In fact, Mr. Daniels is supposed to deliver a report today on his findings for the three women we are considering, Mrs. Hass one of them.”
“No, of course I understand your caution, Darcy,” Drury assured him.
“And speaking of Mr. Daniels, your junior solicitor approaches now,” George inserted.
“I apologize for being late, gentlemen. I cannot fathom the mystery of it, but apparently one small child refusing to wear shoes can delay an entire household! Then we stopped at Darcy House to deliver a sheath of papers from my father. I think you will be pleased with the applicants, sir. Are you sure Mrs. Darcy is constitutionally restored to manage three interviews tomorrow? It can be exhausting.”
“My wife thrives on such challenges, Mr. Daniels. The activity will be good for her.”
“Mrs. Daniels will be happy to hear that. She was concerned, naturally, although it does look as if Mrs. Darcy is recovered.”
Silence fell among them, each man lost in personal thoughts of the staggering events while watching their wives and children. Darcy again studied his wife, but she was laughing gaily while nibbling on pieces of cold pheasant and pickled beets. He smiled at the odd dietary combination, praying that it portended of a blessed addition to their family. With her woman’s monthly cycles not resumed after Michael’s birth, there was no way to gauge when she may have conceived, or if she had, therefore they were forced to wait for a surer sign than strange cravings or vague nausea.
“Dare I ask what of Wickham? How have you dealt with that, Darcy?” Mr. Vernor broached in a low voice.
“Circumspectly, Gerald. We agreed that there is no reason for the family to know what happened. Aside from Mrs. Daniels and Mrs. Bingley, of course.”
“Will he be buried in Hertfordshire then?”
Darcy met his lifelong friend’s eyes, understanding the unasked question. “I pray Mr. and Mrs. Wickham are unable to observe events on earth for a host of reasons. If they can, then I must trust they understand why their son will not rest alongside them at Pemberley.”
The men nodded, none disagreeing with his sentiments, and George laid a consoling hand onto his nephew’s shoulder, his voice matching the proud cast to his face when he spoke. “William has paid the burial expenses and wrote a letter to the Bennets eloquently expressing his belief that the Wickhams would appreciate their son being buried where his wife will some day rest.”
The surprise at that gesture was clear upon each face, Clifton Drury whistling and verbalizing what they all thought, “That is generous to say the least, Darcy. Under the circumstances, it is a remarkable action on your part.”
“Generosity had nothing to do with it, I assure you,” Darcy said bluntly. “I was only thinking of my wife and how to minimize her distress. Wickham’s body has been sent to a Meryton mortician who will handle the process with Mr. Bennet’s direction henceforth. I am done with it. They are awaiting Mrs. Wickham’s arrival, who we just heard today from Mrs. Bennet diverted to Bath after Major General and Mrs. Artois’s wedding. A dispatch has been sent. Beyond that, I do not care, to be brutally honest. My family will be leaving for Rosings soon, thus the mourners will not include us.”
“I am happy to hear your plans for Kent have not changed, since new scenery is a wonderful remedy, although Mrs. Hughes insists the seaside best cures her troubles and boredom. Her prescription is several weeks for complete healing, of course.”
“Oh have no fear, Mr. Hughes”—George laughed—“Mrs. Darcy highly enjoys her visits with Lady Catherine! I believe the stimulus of confounding witless Mr. Collins and sparring converse with Lady Catherine will invigorate more than gallons of seawater or gales of sea air.”
Darcy grunted, wincing at their laughter and the vision drawn by Dr. Darcy’s statement. Yet he could not resist a smile—hidden behind a rubbing thumb over his lips—at the undeniable truth of how Elizabeth behaved and the guilty entertainment he reaped whenever dwelling at Rosings. “Elizabeth’s pleasure is derived from visiting with Mrs. Penaflor and Mrs. Collins, strolling the gardens and walkways of the Park, and upon this occasion seeing our new niece,” he stated firmly with an attempted glare at his uncle.
George shook his head, not the slightest repentant. “We shall see which brings her greater relief. I know I am most delighted by annoying Lady Catherine, but then my faults are blatant and myriad compared to Mrs. Darcy.”
“Be sure to take careful notes since I shall not be there to bask in the fun,” Richard requested.
George sketched a check mark in the air, the two exchanging impish grins. Darcy broke into the laughter coming from his friends, voice serious, “You should come with us, Cousin, and not to harass our aunt but to visit Anne and Raul. I doubt they will make the trip to Town this season so soon after Margaret’s birth. The boys would enjoy Rosings Park and the clean air would benefit young Oliver.”
“We had considered it. However, now we think waiting until later in the summer might be best. Rigorous travel is inadvisable at the moment.”
“Is Lord Fotherby’s health again poor, Colonel? I thought his new treatment regime was an improvement.”
“The medicines I and Dr. Angless are using are helping, Mr. Lathrop, but not a cure, sadly. Nevertheless, Lord Fotherby is fit enough to travel I would imagine. Somehow I do not think it is his constitution Colonel Fitzwilliam is concerned about.”
Richard flushed but could not completely hide the light in his eyes even as he attempted to glare at a smirking George. “Just once I wish you were not so skilled as a diagnostician, Doctor.”
Vernor and Hughes puzzled the pieces first, Gerald whistling while Albert extended a hand that Richard automatically shook. “Congratulations, my friend! Well done! Babies and more babies!”
“No public announcements as yet, gentlemen. I am leaving that honor up to Mrs. Fitzwilliam when she decides the time is appropriate. I dare you to cross my wife on that count, Dr. Darcy!”
George pressed a finger to his clamped lips, the other men subduing their congratulations to happy smiles and minute gestures.
“In lieu of my cousin gaining the spotlight with his public announcement, how about I offer one of my own.” All eyes looked to Darcy, who was broadly smiling but gazing over their shoulders toward the picnic area. He indicated the young man approaching with an elderly, stately woman on his arm, Lord and Lady Matlock flanking, and said in a voice bubbling with pride, “Come. Let us join the ladies before they consume all the food. I am parched and famished, plus I wish to proclaim our recent great fortune to the entire assembly.”
