In the Arms of Mr. Darcy

He grinned at his cousin, Darcy grinning in return.

“Young Lord Fotherby appears healthy at the moment.”

“He was slow to recover from the poor medical management administered by Wrexham’s quack,” Richard said with bitterness. “Simone lost too many hours of sleep worrying over him, another reason her father deserves to be shot for what he did.”

Unfortunately, the most Lord Wrexham would suffer as a result of his crime was a left arm that pained him and had limited mobility. It was monumentally unfair, but Simone had no legal recourse, as there was no proof that she was detained against her will unless she chose to launch an extended investigation. Since this would likely be a fruitless effort in light of her father’s wealth and influence, it was not worth further scandal that might harm her children. Harry and Hugh were young enough to be innocently unaware of the drama. Oliver’s sequelae was serious, his condition critically worsened due to nearly two months of mistreatment. But in the end, that too may have been an odd blessing as Dr. Angless collaborated with the Fotherby family physician, as well as Dr. Darcy putting his superior intellect and unique experience to the mix, and a new plan was devised for the mysterious ailment. Oliver was responding favorably, a great deal of his gaiety and heartiness undoubtedly the result of observing the only mother he had ever known glowing with happiness.

“You a father,” Darcy teased, noting the fond smile on Richard’s face as he watched Hugh, Harry, and Oliver laughing as they exhaled on a cold window and drew pictures in the vapor. “Who would have thought it?”

“Not I,” Richard said with a laugh. “Far too much responsibility for me. Simone must be crazy.”

“Maybe,” Darcy agreed with a grin. “Do you think you will miss it?” He nodded toward the mass of medals adorning Richard’s chest.

“At times I am sure I will. It is hard to fathom no longer being a part of what has been essentially my family and identification for nearly as long as I can remember, but I am prepared to enter a new phase of life and identity as husband, father, and estate manager. I gave the matter intense contemplation, as you know, and it is for the best. I cannot be the husband she deserves if I am encumbered with my professional duties. Nor do I want to run the risk of another war or being deployed. I will not be parted from her, Darcy, not ever again.”

Darcy nodded. “I understand completely, my friend.”

They paused for a moment to gaze upon their wives where they sat surrounded by children and ladies.

“Have you told Elizabeth of your plans to take her on tour through Europe?”

“I have hinted. I am keeping it tentative at the moment until I finalize some business matters and research travel options. I have never traveled abroad with a family, so concessions must be made. You shall see in due course, Cousin. Life is no longer easy, but well worth the discomfort, I assure you.” Richard smiled, a bit foolishly, and Darcy chuckled. “The plans are taking shape and if all is well, then I shall reveal it as a birthday present. By the way, do you think you and Mrs. Fitzwilliam will be able to visit Pemberley for the Summer Festival? We are planning a smaller affair for May this year. I thought I better extend the invitation now, since I will likely not see much of you in the subsequent months.”

“Very funny. If you keep this up I am tempted to avoid you purposely for the sake of my sanity! As for the Festival, we will be there… if you think it wise.”

Darcy glanced at Richard’s suddenly clouded face, noting that his gaze had strayed from divine wife to lovely Georgiana where she stood across the room in animated conversation with Kitty Bennet and a number of others.

“Richard, you need to let your guilt go. How many times must we tell you that Georgiana is perfectly fine? Only you persist in this train of thought. She is young and resilient, much as you are. Her only pain is in your remorse and embarrassment and avoidance of her. She loves you too much to want you to suffer. You need to talk to her, and although this is perhaps not the best venue, you should not embark on your honeymoon with any residual baggage.”

Richard nodded, eyes sad but suddenly determined. “You are right. Excuse me please.”

He was waylaid on his quest by his wife, a brief moment of whispered declarations of devotion and subtle caresses lightening his spirits. It was a face infused with radiant happiness that greeted Georgiana, who instantly smiled in return.

“Miss Darcy, Miss Bennet,” he bowed formally before turning to Kitty. “Miss Bennet, may I steal my cousin away for a stroll on the terrace?”

Arm in arm they walked among the scattered guests enjoying the crisp air, content in the silence of sweet companionship. With each step Richard’s irrational guilt disappeared.

It was Georgiana who broke the hush with a softly teasing lilt, “Now, this is not so horrible, is it Richard? Taking a turn with one of your dearest friends?”

He laughed helplessly, gracing her with his beaming face and bright grin.

She halted, reaching gentle fingertips to his cheek. “Ah! There it is! The sincere smile of true happiness that I have longed to rejoice in. The face that I so adore filled with peace. You are a fool, Richard Fitzwilliam, to think that I would ever wish for anything else for you. But I shall forgive you this one misstep, as long as you promise to be my friend for all of your life.”

He blinked stinging tears, swallowing the lump caught in his throat, lowering his head to briefly rest upon her shoulder before again meeting her glorious eyes. He lifted her fingers for a firm kiss, holding her gaze while answering, “All of my life and beyond to eternity, Georgie, my little mouse. That is my promise.”

Kitty watched Georgiana and Richard disappear around the corner with a pleased smile on her face. Naturally, she knew the entire tale, she and Georgiana maintaining a constant correspondence over the months. The sadness that Georgiana experienced at what she feared was an estrangement with Richard was profound, and Kitty was thrilled to see the two finally speak. She had no doubt that their relationship’s wounds would be repaired, knowing that the affection shared was deep.

She sighed. Too bad not all relationships can be mended so easily, she thought. Of course, not all relationships were of an honest nature, a fact that she could not forget no matter how hard she tried. The odd part was that her heart no longer ached for Anthony Falke, and there were even times when she struggled to recall a fine detail of his appearance or character. Yet the damage to her soul remained as bleakly intense as on the day she was rejected so brutally.

Kitty had not shared the events in Stevenage with either parent. Primarily this was due to the painful nature of the ordeal, but also out of mortification. Being rebuffed so vigorously by someone who had professed love and proudly believing oneself a worthy recipient of love, only to have it dashed into a thousand pieces was a staggering abasement.

Torn between the fear of further lies and humiliation, and the conviction that she was deficient in some manner and therefore undeserving of the love she saw portrayed so beautifully in her sisters’ marriages, Kitty shrank from any male attention. She resisted attending the various assemblies offered in Meryton and when she was coerced, she danced few sets and generally with boys she knew to be “safe.” She had not been particularly keen on accompanying Georgiana to London, even as fond as she was of Colonel Fitzwilliam, but her friend’s pleading and misery had won over any misgivings.

Now here she was, a guest at Colonel Fitzwilliam’s wedding, surrounded by a sea of men in uniform, and all she could think of was how her mother would shrilly scold her for not taking advantage of a prime marriage market when it was laid on her lap! The thought was actually quite humorous, and she smiled at the mental image of her mother in a nervous tizzy, chuckling under her breath until she realized that her expression had drawn the attention of an adolescent soldier standing several yards away. He bowed in a sort of salute, and to her horror started crossing toward her! Eyes wild, she launched from the chair and made a dash for the doorway.

The last thing she wanted was to make idle conversation with a pimply faced boy cadet. She wove through the press of bodies conversing and laughing, making for an empty corridor to the left. A quick glance behind proved that no one was following or seemed aware of her passage. With a sigh of relief, she opened a random door and noted a darkened room. Perfect! She ducked inside and sagged against the latched door, closing her eyes for a silent prayer of thanksgiving.

The room was quite dark and it took her pupils a few minutes to adjust. She realized it was a vast library only because she was standing near a tall shelf of books. All the curtains were drawn, sporadic gaps allowing the muted light of an overcast day in January to pierce for faint illumination. She wended past the shelves and chairs toward the back of the room, no specific destination in mind, and not noting the man leaning casually against the unlit