relaxed in a chair and listened. Peace swirled about him as he watched her beautiful face shine as she played and sang one of her own compositions. He offered honest, enthusiastic applause when she completed the piece.
“Bravo, Miss Darcy. Excellently played! I pray you are not weary of me complimenting you, as I will continue to do so. Truly, your talent is too immense to be wasted by entertaining me.”
“I in no way deem entertaining you a waste of my time, Cousin. As for any great talent to boast of, I believe I am paltry in comparison to most.”
“You do not see your true potential, Georgiana. Trust me. I have heard musical artists at some of the finest establishments in Paris who do not equal you.”
Rather than flushing in embarrassment as he expected, her eyes grew dreamy and voice wistful. “Paris. How I would adore to travel there, or Vienna, or Rome, or anywhere to hear such music.” She sighed heavily.
“You will in time. Perhaps Lizzy and Darcy can take you there next year since she has never been either. In fact, I make you a promise! If they do not take you, I will. We would have enormous fun together! I could use a reprieve and have not been to the continent since the war.”
“Thank you, Richard, but I do not think that would be a good idea.”
He was astonished. “Why ever not? I am very good company, as you know, and have been just about everywhere. We would have a marvelous time!”
She smiled sweetly, but there was an odd glint of sadness in her eyes. “You forget, my dear cousin, that I am nineteen now. A woman. It would be inappropriate for you to escort me. The only reason that gossip is not flying even now is due to Uncle George’s presence and our relative isolation. Have you not noticed some of the pointed glances our way while strolling through Lambton? It is why I dissembled on traveling to Derby for the day. People would have us betrothed by the time we returned to Pemberley!”
She laughed lightly, turning back to the pianoforte, but Richard was shaken. Assimilating her words and fully examining her, he stared at her as she launched into another delightful concerto. The last vestiges of regarding her as a child were eternally swept away in those moments. No longer would he ever think of her as his little cousin, and the adjustment in his consideration was both wonderful and frightening.
It was wonderful in that he suddenly realized with a heartwarming epiphany that he relished her company. She was a person with numerous admirable traits that complimented him perfectly. After two weeks of almost constant companionship, usually alone, there was no doubt whatsoever that they got on well and shared many of the same ideals. More than once, without completely grasping it, he had recognized the domestic quality to their evenings spent in placid company and reveled in it. Frequently, he now discerned with an alarming shock, he had parted from her for the night with a sadness that had nothing to do with grief over his failed romance with Simone.
The frightening aspect in his abrupt insight was what it potentially portended. Could she be the one he had been waiting for all along? Had these past months only been a divine preparation for the fated future that had been in front of him for years? Were his emotions toward Lady Fotherby as fickle as hers apparently were? Or, was he merely searching desperately for any happiness to ease the pain in his heart? Was the serenity and delight he now felt honest or just a temporary balm? Georgiana was undoubtedly beautiful by anyone’s standards, but was he attracted to her in the ways of a husband and lover? Could she ever see him in those roles? Was deep passion necessary and attainable between them, or were friendship and respect and devotion enough?
And worse, what would Darcy say?
The latter was too terrifying to even contemplate, so he left it alone for the time being. In fact, the entire concept was far too enormous to deal with in one sitting. Nonetheless, once opened, the concept could not be tossed aside. Richard Fitzwilliam had serious affairs to contemplate in the weeks ahead.
Chapter Eighteen
“Well, Colonel, have you reached a decision? You know you are welcome to stay at Pemberley for as long as you wish, but it has been over a month. I would hate to see a troop of soldiers storm the Manor and clap you in chains. A court-martial may be entertaining to observe, but it would be tragic to have you locked up for the next several years. Alexander would miss you.”
Richard merely grunted. Darcy smiled, glancing toward his pensive cousin for a moment before returning his attention to Alexander.
They were in the cozily warm parlor on this brisk day in November. Lizzy and Georgiana were upstairs putting the final touches on new ensembles for a dinner party at the Vernors that evening while the gentlemen did nothing. Well, that was not entirely true as Darcy was happily in charge of the baby.
He sat on the sofa across from Richard, far forward with long legs spread wide and bridging the gap between cushioned edge and table, acting as both confining barrier and firm support for the nearly one-year-old’s unsteady gait. Walking was a new and marvelous phenomenon, the toddler now preferring the glorious view of the world from above six inches, but still not too graceful with the procedure. The numerous tumbles and near misses from colliding with a sharp piece of furniture when the legs gave out or chubby upper body propelled ahead of the yet uncontrollable lower extremities in no way caused Alexander to be cautious, but gave his parents shivers of fear. So Darcy did his best to restrain his young son’s movements, especially in the cluttered lower level rooms.
At the moment, Alexander was content with the arrangement, happily cooing and babbling as he played with the assortment of brightly colored toys strewn across the once shiny tabletop that had previously graced a gorgeous four-hundred-year-old vase from China. Darcy absently played with the springy curls and stroked the smooth skin, unconsciously prepared to respond to his son as appropriate while carrying on an adult conversation with Richard. It was natural now to slip from serious dialogue uttered with typical resonant tones to the simpler words spoken in a gentle timbre. It made Richard chuckle, but Darcy was barely aware. Nor was he cognizant of the tender expressions, silly faces, and dotty smiles that frequently lit his face when gazing upon or communicating with his firstborn. Furthermore, he only mildly winced when tiny but firm fists grabbed onto trouser cloth and snared a few leg hairs in the process. It was normal and embraced wholeheartedly.
For several weeks now, since the Darcys’ return, the still grieving and romantically confused Colonel had watched the domestic interplay between all three Darcys with a heavy heart. There were times, God help him, when he wanted to strangle Darcy for finding such bliss and, as he interpreted it in his pain, shoving the extreme felicity into his face!
But the petulant child only reared his ugly head infrequently. He was mature enough to recognize that even while winning battles, dashing off to places all over the Continent, rising in his military career, basking in the glory of accolades, and jauntily extolling the virtues of an unencumbered life, he always knew that the lure of home and hearth beckoned. It appeared that domesticity was ingrained into his cells after all and he was not quite sure how pleased he was with the notion.
He sighed, shifting his legs where they stretched on the table. “I appreciate the jest. And you are correct, of course. I cannot evade reality forever.” He toed a red and blue striped ball back toward Alexander, who instantly released a silver bell to grab onto the rolling toy as if never seen before, his squeal of glee and bouncing body indicative of his joy. Richard smiled and nodded when Alexander lifted the ball toward him with a gesture of thanks. “It is rather humbling to admit the need for refuge and solace as a child. Somewhat emasculating actually.”
“I, of all people, cannot fault you nor tease for that. At least you have not drowned yourself in a brandy bottle, but have managed to act fairly normal. Well, as much as is possible for you, that is.”
“What did you just say about not teasing?”
Darcy laughed, bending for the dozenth time to retrieve a toy that tumbled over the table edge and then pausing for a brief nuzzle and kiss.
“Seriously, Darcy, thank you for opening Pemberley to me. I know I did not precisely ask for an invitation, but just knowing that I am always welcome was an immeasurable consolation. Additionally, I cannot thank you enough for keeping the festivities light while I have been here. I was not in the proper frame of mind to play the entertaining funnyman to a host of visitors.”
