"There is no need. Take him out of the spinning room, away from his mother. Give him more responsibility. The carding machine, I think. Work him hard for a while, exhaust him, and he will give you no trouble." Rhodes looked dubious, Darcy smiling grimly and finishing with confidence as they rode away, "Trust me, I know how best to deal with grief."
***
"Today is Alexander's birthday and I am missing it."
Colonel Fitzwilliam, out of uniform and comfortable in a black suit of wool, peered over the rim of his wine glass at the morose cousin sitting across their secluded table in the Georgian's opulent dining hall. Darcy was staring at his plate, mien serious as he played with the remains of dinner, fork absently scoring trenches through a small pile of mashed yams. Richard frowned, completely at a loss as to what Darcy meant.
"Ah, Cousin, unless I have slept through all of 1818, a year has not passed."
Darcy chuckled, putting down his fork and picking up his own wine glass. "No, I meant his one-month birthday."
Richard raised his brows. "Do people actually celebrate such a thing? I certainly pray you did not expect me to provide a present. This could become costly after a time."
"No gifts or parties. I just wanted to be there is all." He sighed, sitting back in the chair. "I miss my family, Richard." He took a sip, glancing to his cousin's humorous face. "Go ahead, laugh. Make a joke. I need to be cheered."
Richard shrugged. "I was just thinking that there was a time when all you needed in life was my sparkling personality and delightful company. How things change!"
Darcy laughed in earnest. "Never have I thought you were all I needed, my friend, but you do in a pinch."
Richard lifted his glass in salute. "We shall be back at Pemberley in a day or two. You seem to have things well in hand, and there really are no reasons to stay around for the reconstruction, are there?"
"I do not want to desert my partners, but I suppose I can complete the rest from home. It is primarily paperwork from here on. Mr. Keith and I will work on it, and I will likely send him to London next month. I refuse to leave again, barring another catastrophe. It is too difficult."
Richard was smiling at his once again morose cousin now fiddling with his wedding ring, a gleam of something indiscernible in his eyes. "I know I have said it before, but it still shocks me how profoundly matrimony has affected you."
"And I have said it before, wait until it is your turn. It is marvelous, beautiful, the very best feeling in the world. Love and now fatherhood. Ach! I need to go home! Tomorrow afternoon, Richard. We will be home by dinner. What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Do you remember Lord Fotherby?"
Darcy blinked in surprise. "Naturally. One of our greatest members of Parliament. How could I not? Terrible loss to our country when he passed. Why do you ask?"
Richard looked embarrassed, ruddy face flushing further. "Well, he has been a friend to our family for decades, as you know, he and our grandfather contemporaries. Considering his age, I guess none of us were too surprised at his death, but then again there are some people who seem immortal. He was so spry."
"He assuredly was spry. We saw him in London and I never would have imagined him dying a few months later. He was dancing with his wife at Lord Ivers's ball more often than Elizabeth and me. Yes, a shock and loss to be sure." He noted Richard's grimace, chuckling and leaning forward. "So are you going to tell me the thought behind this line of questioning?"
"It is entirely your fault you know. Walking about with that ridiculous grin all the time, peace and tranquility oozing from every pore, and pardon my crudeness, but the obvious sexual satisfaction radiating continually is enough to make the most confirmed bachelor vacillate!"
Darcy grinned, flushing slightly and ducking his head in embarrassment, but not in the least offended. "Whom are we talking about? The lucky lady to turn my wayward cousin's heart and bring me such utter joy as I now can tease him mercilessly in return? Pray tell!"
"Go easy on me, Darcy. I think I am in love, yes, but I am caught up in my own Shakespearean tragedy."
"Does this have to do with Miss Ulster? I would have imagined the Admiral presenting her on a silver platter if you asked. No, wait!" Suddenly the pieces fell into place and he gazed at his cousin with amazement. "You are speaking of Lady Fotherby."
"Now you see my dilemma?"
"When did this take place? How could you...? I mean, she has only been widowed for a few months and sequestered at the estate in Buckinghamshire I understand."
"Very well, you want the sordid details? I have known Lady Fotherby nearly all my life if you recollect. Her mother and mine have been friends since their society days, although I paid her scant attention, I confess, until University. I would encounter the then Lady Simone Halifax at various soirees and balls. You were there upon occasion, Darcy. She had matured into a true beauty and so utterly perfect."
He paused, shaking his head and taking a drink of wine. "Timing is everything, I have come to believe," his voice low as he swirled the red liquid and lost himself in musings. "Certainly this is true in military matters, but also in life and love. I knew I loved her and that she returned the affection. What could I do about the feelings I had? I was young and naive with dreams of glory in battle and killing Napoleon personally, far too foolish to recognize true love. Not that I could have done a thing about it as a second son with a small inheritance." He shrugged. "By the time I could possibly give matrimony any serious consideration, she was long since married to Lord Fotherby."
"I remember you fancied her a bit but had no idea the emotions were deep. Forgive me, my friend, I never knew."
"Oh, be still, William. I cannot proclaim to any great passion. Again, I was young and not sparing undue contemplation on a hopeless situation. It is more the wisdom of age that enables me to relive the feelings and see them for what they were. That and you all dreamy and radiating disgusting happiness every waking hour of the day."
Darcy smiled and Richard laughed, both men silent for a while. "I had not seen her in years. The rumors would reach my ears from time to time. Her marriage to the far older Lord Fotherby, the birth of their two children, the elaborate galas at their homes in Town and High Wycombe. I wondered, as I am sure so many others did, whether the marriage was based on affection or merely an old man wanting a young wife." He shook his head and grimaced. "Whatever the case, I pushed it all aside until two seasons ago when I saw her at the symphony. It was all back in a rush. Quite took my breath away, actually."
"That is how it was to see Elizabeth at Rosings and later at Pemberley, and every day when I wake next to her, matter of fact. Must have been horrible for you. I am so sorry and wish you had shared with me."
"Shared that I am in love with another man's wife? Yes, I can only imagine how you would have accepted that news! Your sense of morality would have been highly offended and the prudish expressions and lecturing would not have been welcome, I can assure you."
"You did not act on your inclinations, and when it comes to losing the woman you love, I can fully comprehend the agony. No, I would not have lectured, Cousin. In fact, I am not now offended and actually a bit confused. Why do you see it as a tragedy, Richard? As sad as the passing of Lord Fotherby, it does free her, given appropriate mourning period of course. And now you are in a better position to offer yourself as suitor."
"I suppose, although it seems rather distasteful to consider it at this juncture. The man is barely cold in his grave. Besides..." He stopped, lips pressed together and face filled with a rare bitterness.
"What? Do you judge there no chance she may return your interest?"
"Difficult to ascertain, under the circumstances. We spoke a few times at various functions in Town. Lord and Lady Fotherby were everywhere, to my dismay. She was polite and proper, our conversations always restrained and in the presence of others. It was probably just my romantic fancy overwhelming me, but I sensed a current between us. Fills me with guilt even to contemplate the subject! Lord, Darcy, I am not capable of judging! I am a soldier. How can I compare to a man of Lord Fotherby's caliber?"
"Oh, nonsense! You are a nobleman's son, an officer of His Majesty's army, young and dashingly handsome, rich, charming. Need I go on? You have far more to offer than even the famous Lord Fotherby, no matter how virile he may have been in his seniority." He sat back and picked up his glass. "I really cannot tell you precisely how to proceed. I believe in fate, but also think one needs to encourage it along."
Silence descended yet again, plates cleared by servants, and the dessert course served before either man spoke. Darcy was shaken by the atypical expression of sadness on Colonel Fitzwilliam's face, having come to rely on his irrepressible affability. When he broke the quiet, his voice was husky with emotion.
"I saw her a couple of weeks ago. Mother insisted on diverting northwest to pay her respects as friend to her mother. We only stayed the afternoon, had teas and cakes. Father related fond memories of Lord Fotherby in action during sessions of the House of Lords. Lady Fotherby smiled kindly, but did not seem comfortable with the topic. Even in the black of mourning she was beautiful." He sighed deeply. "How can you judge a woman's face, William? Especially when so controlled?"
Darcy shrugged and shook his head. "I am not the one to ask, I am afraid. I can read Elizabeth perfectly now, but assuredly misconstrued horribly early in our acquaintance. Even when love was apparent on her face, I refused to embrace it out of fear. Did you sense anything from Lady Fotherby? Any hope?"
"Perhaps. She looked at me quite a bit, but maybe that is because I kept staring at her! When we said our good-byes and I kissed her fingers, I swear she pressed against my lips and she definitely squeezed my hand. I was shocked at the boldness--too flummoxed to make sense of it and do more than stammer something stupid." He laughed faintly and shook his head. "Go ahead and laugh, Cousin, I deserve it!"
Darcy was grinning, an amused twinkle in his eyes. "I have not seen you so flustered since Miss Susanne Carmichael kissed you under the mistletoe when you were fifteen! What a joy! The particularly amusing part of it all is that you are far more worldly than I, yet here you sit, as affected by a woman as all the rest of us mortals. Refreshing, actually."
"You are enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Immensely!"
"No further sympathy for the man of constant sorrows? The broken-hearted romantic fool doomed to traverse the earth in pitiful loneliness? The woeful puppy with hanging tail and ears?"
"Pah!" Darcy interrupted. "I am as pathetically inept as they come when pertaining to divining romantic clues. However, even I can determine there is hope. Give it time, Richard. I am convinced I shall be raising a glass at your wedding ere the year is out. Worse come to worst, you can enlist Aunt Madeline's aid. She would do anything to see you married and bringing more grandchildren her way."
Richard cringed, and Darcy laughed as he bit into his apple pie.
The conversation turned to unrelated business and political topics as they finished their brandies. Finally, Darcy said, "Well, I think I shall retire, my friend. Sooner I am asleep, the sooner tomorrow will arrive."
"You sound like a child awaiting Christmas."
"Ah, but this is far superior. My wife's arms and son's grasping hands transcend any gift delivered. Remember this, Cousin. It will keep you motivated in your pursuit."
Chapter Five
S
HRIEKS IN THE
N
IGHT
Honestly, Darcy, we can manage matters from here on. I was going to be tarrying hereabouts with my wife's family for a couple of weeks anyway. Frankly, this will give me something to occupy my time besides pretending to enjoy their chatter." Kinnison grinned. "Go home to your new wife and child. We will send regular dispatches, I promise."
"You and Mr. Keith are far more proficient at the paperwork and financial issues," Shultz grumbled from where he reclined and fanned his perspiring face. He was covered with soot and grime, having spent the past three hours revamping several of the damaged spinning mules. It was actually very cold outside, clouds gathering rapidly and darkening threateningly by the moment. "You better get a move on if you want to beat the storm. I think it bodes to be a bad one."
He was right. Flurries were already falling by the time Colonel Fitzwilliam and Darcy mounted their stallions and headed out of town. Richard was questioning the wisdom in riding through what promised to become a blizzard before it was over. Darcy, however, refused to discuss waiting. His prescient prediction of Derbyshire weather was not failing him; he simply ignored it in the urgent need to be home. It would prove to be a horrible mistake, one that he was rapidly recognizing before they were three miles north of town.
It was miserable. Snow fell in thick sheets, wind hitching furiously and driving the increasingly solidified ice into their faces, cold seeping through the layers of thick woolens they wore, and visibility falling to near zero. The horses plodded along slowly, riders bent double over their backs. It was when they passed the barely seen sign for "Belper, 2 miles" that Richard grabbed Darcy's arm.