Darcy instructed Mrs. Jennings to take a count of what supplies and foodstuffs were available. He specifically stressed the necessity of securing those areas of the house where foods not needing a fire to make them edible might be found.“Hard-boiled eggs are different from fresh eggs,” he explained to her.
Earlier, he had spoken to Mrs. Reynolds regarding bed linens, toilette items, towels, candles, and lanterns. He wanted everything
that the intruder might need to survive within Pemberley’s walls locked up. “Open up the east wing’s rooms—doors remain open. No fires in the fireplaces. Inventory each room’s furnishings down to the mantelpiece’s smallest figurines.” Having spent a combined three quarters of a century in service to the estate, the two staff members were ready to respond to the threat to Pemberley’s reputation and to fulfill their own responsibilities to keep it secure.
Satisfied that they would complete their tasks as he instructed, and having started his day with a visit to Jatson St. Denis, Darcy now turned his attention to what to tell the viscount and Mr. Worth. Since speaking candidly to Elizabeth, he wondered about the wisdom of being so open with his guests. He knew intuitively that he needed to acknowledge the troubles besetting Pemberley—to allow his guests to protect themselves with a large dose of caution.Yet, he could not shake the feeling that somehow one of them had participated in this duplicity. Only earlier that morning, Darcy had learned that Lord Stafford had not slept in his own bedroom the previous night, and despite Darcy’s knowledge of the viscount’s relationship with Miss Donnel, a small part of him wondered if Adam Lawrence could be involved somehow. His lack of command over the events exploding in his household weighed heavily on him. He could not take care of all of them. It was a fact that Darcy did not take lightly, but he had decided during the long night that his first responsibility was to Elizabeth and the child she carried, along with Georgiana. They would be his priority in this peril. He would tend to the others, but only after his ladies and his child were safe.
Since Elizabeth’s revelation, Darcy’s mind had drifted often to how he would secure his child’s future. Milder weather could not come too quickly for him. Besides being the end of the nightmare plaguing the estate, Darcy eagerly anticipated meeting with his solicitor and making a proper settlement on his child. Although he wished for a son—an heir for Pemberley—he had actually dreamed the past two nights of an auburn-haired little girl curling up on his
lap and falling asleep. A daughter would bring him a different type of contentment. Darcy missed how Georgiana had once clung to him—how she would climb on his outstretched legs and beg her big brother for a horsey ride. His imagination told him that Elizabeth’s child would bring such happiness again. With her mother’s wit, the child would challenge him to be more than a family figurehead. He would be a father—a man who taught his children responsibility while giving them love.
A knock at his study door brought him out of his musing.“Enter!” he called.
Anne edged the door open. “You wished to speak to me, Fitzwilliam?”
Darcy came automatically to his feet. Circling the desk to meet her, he led his cousin to a nearby chair.“Yes, my Dear.”After seating her comfortably, Darcy returned to his place behind the mahogany desk. “I have several items about which I wish to speak with you if you are of a mind.”
Anne smiled politely, but she worried. Would Darcy reproach her for her actions the past few days? Brought up on constant censure, she expected it from everyone. She said cautiously,“Of course. I have enjoyed our newfound closeness.”
“So have I,” he admitted, and she released the breath she had held.“It is ironic that we have shared a lifetime and only of late can say that we share a friendship.”
“Unfortunately, it took your defiance in claiming Mrs. Darcy as your own to open communication between us.” Anne chortled, and Darcy noted how laughter made her appear years younger. “It is probably indelicate to say this,” she continued, “but the sword of Damocles hung over us for too many years—our prescribed union kept us from developing a caring relationship. I pray for this new knowledge of each other to continue when I am forced to leave Pemberley’s security.”
Darcy chose his words carefully. “And do you feel secure at Pemberley? Despite everything that has happened?”
“Notwithstanding the tragic loss of a woman I admired more than anyone else in my life, I have found moments of pure joy at Pemberley.” Anne shifted in her chair. “I love my mother, Cousin, and like you, I understand her bitterness. She was the eldest child of the Fitzwilliam family and a bit spoiled by all those at Matlock. Even though your father and mother taught you what was right and gave you good principles, they certainly left you to follow them in pride and conceit. I say that not to criticize you, Darcy. It is but a fact.” Darcy simply nodded his head in acknowledgment of her words. “If your mother, Lady Anne, my namesake, offered you such guidance, you must realize that she and my mother were instructed by our grandparents on the nobleness of their line.” Again, Darcy gave no verbal confirmation of what his cousin said, but he made no move to correct her. He had heard his aunt declare on more than one occasion the idea of the “perfection” of his and Anne’s lineage—the same noble lines—respectable, honorable, and ancient families. “However, as my cousin, you—more than most people—recognize the censure with which I have lived for years. Since birth, I have been my mother’s disappointment. She needed a son to truly please my father.Although Rosings Park is not entailed upon the male line, a son would have meant that she had not failed him as a wife.”
“Sir Lewis adored you,” Darcy observed.
“He was my world, and I never felt unloved, but my father left us too soon, forcing my mother into the role of both master and mistress. She could let no one take note of a woman’s weakness, including her own daughter.When my father left us, I also lost my mother.”
“Some day you should explain your
defiance
in just those terms,” Darcy suggested. “I have seen the pain in Lady Catherine’s eyes when she experiences the inadequacy of her own futile attempts at motherhood. For years, I have been of the persuasion that my aunt taught you docility because she wished never to risk losing Rosings. If we had married, you would have become the mistress of Pemberley and have no need for another great estate.Yet, if you
married another, your husband would take control of the property, and Lady Catherine would assume the position of dowager: Rosings would be yours. Actually, I prefer your explanation for Her Ladyship’s harshness rather than the thought of her manipulating you for her own benefit. It eliminates a point of honor.”
Anne sat silent for several moments. “It is a conundrum. All I know for sure is that I must discover my own identity and become my own person. I am seven and twenty and have never known the thrill of another’s attention.”
“That brings me to another topic of discussion. I wished to know of your continued recovery from Mrs. Jenkinson’s death and of what appears to be a blossoming relationship with Mr.Worth.”
Anne blushed profusely. “Is it not shameless that I am here because I followed Lieutenant Harwood to Liverpool; yet, I am finding comfort in building a friendship with Mr.Worth?”
“What I know of Nigel Worth tells me the man is honorable.”
Anne looked surprised.“You knew Mr.Worth previously? I was under the impression that you met him when he came to Pemberley with those seeking refuge from the storm.”
“I dealt with Mr. Worth several years ago in a legal matter regarding one of our former Pemberley employees.” Darcy stretched the truth, even with Anne, but he realized she would think he
interfered
in his cottagers’ lives—as if that were the normal way for a landed gentleman to behave. He could not admit to her that he had paid Wickham’s debts without also revealing the man’s betrayal and attempted seduction of Georgiana.
Anne asked impulsively,“Do you believe Mr.Worth’s attentions honest?”
“I assume you question whether the man’s interest is based on your fortune?”
“I am painfully aware that Rosings Park is my best asset,” Anne openly confessed.
Darcy’s expression softened. “You cheat yourself, my Dear, if you make the assumption that is the only reason any man might
find you attractive. Yet, with Mrs. Darcy’s insights, I have learned that women often have a poor opinion of their own true appeal and must learn, in their own way, to love themselves and accept themselves.” He paused to allow Anne to digest his words thoroughly. “As for Mr. Worth, I believe he would not choose to show attention to someone he might not truly find attractive. A man will flirt with a woman he knows he cannot have, just to say he tried; but when his heart becomes engaged, his demeanor changes to one of protection and caring. I have noted such a change in Mr.Worth since discovering your beauty.Worth has a successful practice and a comfortable home in Cheshire. Although he would welcome your wealth, it would not persuade him to make you an offer. As a point of reference, we must assume that the man would know how to see to your interests and to make them grow profitably.”
“Whereas Lieutenant Harwood would not?” Anne asked weakly.
“I do not know the lieutenant’s motives, Anne. I can speak only of what I know of Mr. Worth.” Again, Darcy paused for emphasis. “What I wish to ask, my Dear, is whether I am to pursue my quest for information about Lieutenant Harwood? I had planned to assure myself and you of the man’s intentions and of his truth once the storm subsided.”
It was Anne’s turn to pause; she needed time to word her response. “If you would not mind postponing your inquiry, Fitzwilliam, I would like the opportunity to see where Mr. Worth’s addresses lie. My intuition tells me my future may find itself in that direction. I never felt Lieutenant Harwood’s commitment to me the way I do with Mr.Worth.”
“Very good,” Darcy said with relief. “I wish you happiness, Cousin, and it appears that Mr. Worth wishes you the same.” He stood, bringing an end to their conversation.“If you care to remain at Pemberley when Her Ladyship returns to Kent, Mrs. Darcy and I would be honored to play your hosts. It would make it more feasible for Mr. Worth to continue your courtship. Pemberley is not so far that he could not arrange a day trip. It might be a way to determine
the depth of the man’s interest. If he is willing to withstand the discomfort of a long carriage ride or one on horseback to spend a few hours in your company, then we can count him a legitimate suitor.” Darcy chuckled, thinking of how he would have traveled from Derby to Hertfordshire in a heartbeat if Elizabeth had given him reason to do so.“It would demonstrate most clearly his intentions.”
“I suppose it would.Thank you, Fitzwilliam, for understanding.”
“Think nothing of it. If I cannot fulfill the position of husband, at least, I can portend the role of brother.”
“That is most comforting.”They caught hands as he led her to the door. Anne turned to him before making her exit. “Mrs. Darcy is a very fortunate woman. She married into the highest realm of the land, and I do not speak of Pemberley’s wealth.” Going up on tiptoe, she kissed Darcy’s cheek.
“Go and find your happiness, Cousin,” he murmured.
“I will, sir,” she replied.Then she swept from the room.
Anne found Georgiana and Evelyn Williams in the rose-colored drawing room. Both worked at their embroidery, a task Anne found tedious.“What say you,” she asked as she joined them,“to performing a play? I thought it might be a way of passing the hours. We could create costumes or just use our everyday clothing. Nothing spectacular—just us, enjoying one another’s company.”
“I have never tried to act,” Georgiana began. “I am not sure I could deliver a line without choking on the words.”
“Even if you forgot your lines, no one would care.”Anne reached for Georgiana’s hand, needing her family to agree to her first attempt at defining herself. “Do you think I have ever enjoyed such freedoms? We would experience it together. Besides, we have a predominance of women in the house.We can take the part of men and lose ourselves in the roles.”
Georgiana asked, “Do you believe the others might agree?”
“How do we know unless we ask? This is the first time I have ever suggested something that my mother has not prompted.”Anne was intoxicated with the possibilities before her.
“What of you, Mrs. Williams?” Georgiana asked as she turned to the older woman.“Might you care to join us if we can persuade the others?”
Mrs. Williams vehemently declared, “My late mother believed the theater leads to the worst vices.”
Anne flinched with the woman’s censure, but she forced herself not to succumb to her own feelings. “I would not call what we attempt
theater,
Mrs.Williams, but if you choose not to participate, we understand. Come, Georgiana, let us find the others.” Anne gently pulled the girl to her feet. “I am sure that Mrs. Wickham will be happy to perform with us.”
“I hope Elizabeth will also agree to take part.” Arm in arm, they walked toward the open door.
Finding several of the guests still lingering in the morning room, Anne, a bit embarrassed but willing to try something new, cleared her throat to catch their attention. “Georgiana and I thought we might perform a play among ourselves to pass the time—nothing elaborate, just us trying to put the storm and the gloom of the past few days behind us.”
Cathleen’s eyes lit with eagerness. “That sounds like something I might enjoy. I missed the outside day because of my accident. I would like to get to know the others better. Have you chosen a piece to perform?”
Laughing at herself for not having thought that far ahead, Anne glanced quickly at Georgiana for suggestions.The thought of performing had occurred to her only after she had left Darcy’s study. He had told her to find her happiness, and Anne had always wanted to perform plays. It seemed a natural consequence of their heartfelt conversation. “I do not believe that either my cousin or I hold a preference for a particular play.”