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The group that sat down to Sunday dinner at Derwent House displayed an odd array of moods. The Darcys did their best to behave as usual, but, although they had decided to say nothing about Lady Alameda or her situation until after the meal, it was difficult to maintain a semblance of good cheer.

Lord Henry and Lady Eleanor had arrived in excellent spirits, although they became slightly puzzled as the meal progressed.

In contrast, Richard seemed to find Darcy’s grim demeanor amusing and concentrated on teasing Georgiana about the various gentlemen who had paid her court over the past month.

This, combined with the knowing glances directed from her aunt and uncle, made Miss Darcy so skittish that she could barely manage to answer direct questions in monosyllables.

Even so, Elizabeth did not begin to guess how far off their guests’ expectations were until they all removed to the library and the door shut behind them.

The Earl looked to his nephew expectantly and, before Lizzy had a chance to intervene, clapped his hands together and demanded jovially, “Well? I assume you have news for us? Georgiana has certainly been coy enough!”

Miss Darcy’s eyes flicked between her uncle and her brother and then the poor girl nearly jumped out of her seat when Lady Eleanor reached over to pat her hand with an indulgent smile. “Don’t mind his teasing, dear—we only want what is best for you.”

Darcy had been so focused on how to relay the news of Lady Alameda’s situation that he was caught entirely off guard by his uncle’s perplexing statement. He began slowly; “Yes, we have news, but it is in regards to your son.”

Before he could continue, Matlock let out a pleased bark and cuffed Richard on the shoulder.

“Capital! Just as I’d hoped! Son, you are a sly dog not to have discussed it with me before making the offer, but I couldn’t have arranged a better match myself!

Did I not tell you, Eleanor?” Lord Henry was so busy congratulating himself that he quite neglected the varying expressions of astonishment that his pronouncement was met with, not the least of which appeared on the faces of those two whom he believed to be betrothed.

Elizabeth glanced apologetically at her sister-in-law; “Forgive me, sir, but I fear you have misconstrued the situation.”

Unlike her husband, Lady Eleanor was beginning to catch the Darcys’ anxiety.

Before the Earl could say anything more, she offered, “Your note indicated some news. We assumed it was an offer of marriage to Georgiana, but seeing your faces now, it’s quite clear that we were mistaken. Whatever is wrong?”

His jocular mood draining away, Matlock turned a gimlet eye upon Richard. “You said it is in regard to my son?”

That gentleman had not quite recovered from the shock that his father still hoped for a match between himself and his much younger cousin. As a result, the look he turned upon his host was searching.

In a few words, Mr. Darcy erased the confusion as well as any remaining joviality. “The news has nothing to do with either Georgiana or Richard. I was referring to your other son, Edward.”

Matlock’s eyes narrowed and his wife let out a tiny gasp, but it was Richard who asked outright, “What the devil has he done now?”

Will deferred to Elizabeth, as they had decided it would be best to begin with the story of Lady Alameda’s arrival.

She sketched the event as gently as she could, but there was no way to soften the facts.

This time it was Georgiana who reached out to comfort her aunt and even Lord Henry looked rather ill upon hearing how his heir had displayed such wanton cruelty to his wife and son.

Before any of the guests could begin questioning the Darcys, a knock at the door signaled the timely arrival of Dr. Tolmach.

After introductions, the physician provided the company with a brief summary of the fugitives’ injuries and then Elizabeth led the ladies upstairs to call on Lady Alameda while the gentlemen were left to interrogate the physician.

The Viscountess was waiting for them, alone in the sitting room attached to her suite.

No one had ever called her timid, but to herself she admitted how much she feared leaving that sanctuary.

Even Mrs. Darcy’s assurances, however kind, could not make her feel at ease with her husband’s family at such a time.

Any reservations that the younger ladies had harbored were swept away by the Countess’s first words. After standing frozen for a moment, staring at Alameda’s face, she burst out, “Oh, you poor girl—I’m so sorry! How are you? Oh heavens—what a stupid thing to ask…I only meant… ”

The fearful look in the younger woman’s eyes did as much as the dark bruises mottling her skin to wipe all past dislike from Eleanor’s mind. Instead, she took her daughter-in-law’s hand as gently as if Alameda had been born to her.

Lady Ashbourne had not felt a mother’s care since the death of her own parents nearly two decades prior, and the tears in Lady Eleanor’s eyes were too much for her. Great, heaving sobs began to wrack her thin frame, even as she was engulfed in the Countess’s soft embrace.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” she sobbed, but her mother-in-law would have none of it.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for, my poor girl. I don’t know how this could have happened, but we will make it right, I promise.”

Alameda could do little more than nod—the pain of her ribs had almost entirely robbed her of breath—but the fear in her eyes retreated a little.

Just then, the door from the adjoining bedchamber opened just wide enough for a pair of anxious brown eyes to peer in. Elizabeth heard Mrs. Hudson in the next room as she began to call, “Master Reggie, shut that door; you know that you’re not to disturb your mother and her visitors…”

“But I heard Mama crying,” responded the little boy stoutly, looking around the room before focusing back on his mother. Seeing only the women, he opened the door a little wider and called softly, “Mama? Are you well?”

Alameda released her grip on Lady Eleanor and reached her hand out to her son. “Yes, darling. Come here—there’s nothing to fear, Reggie, just some ladies who would like to meet you.”

The boy wasted no time in going to her and Alameda held him close for a few moments, whispering in his ear as he turned serious eyes upon the others.

A movement at the door caught her eye and she smiled tiredly.

“It’s all right, Mrs. Hudson.” Turning to the others, she assumed a more formal attitude but did not try to loosen her son’s hand.

“Please, allow me to introduce Mrs. Hudson; she was my nurse and is now that of my son… and the best companion I could ever wish for.” The older woman blushed as she curtsied to the company.

“Hudson, this is Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam, Countess of Matlock, and Miss Darcy, and of course you’ve already met Mrs. Darcy. ”

Mrs. Hudson blushed even more when the Countess stood to shake her hand and praised her courage during her mistresses’ recent travails.

Once the nurse managed to excuse herself, Lady Eleanor turned her attention to her grandson.

He had the look of his father, she thought to herself, but the gravity in his eyes reminded her of none so much as a young Fitzwilliam Darcy.

“And good day to you, young sir. We’ve met before, but it was some years ago and I doubt you will remember,” observed her ladyship.

“Reggie,” said his mother gently. “This is the Countess Matlock, your grandmother.”

The boy’s eyes widened a fraction but he managed a respectable bow for his age, even with one arm in a sling.

The older woman smiled kindly and held out a hand for him to take. “Oh pish tosh, Alameda, he may call me Grandmamma, like all my grandchildren.”

The boy watched her for a time but finally seemed to reach to a decision. Placing his own hand in hers, he replied in a quiet but steady voice, “Hello Grandmamma.”

Needless to say, there was not a dry eye in the room.

The scene in Darcy’s study was not nearly as genial.

The Earl was forced to accept the description of his daughter-in-law and grandson’s injuries, but refused to hear the physician further.

“Syphilis!?! Don’t be absurd—that’s a disease of sailors and lowborn scum!

!! Not a viscount, and certainly not my son! ”

Out of sight, Richard made a face but shook his head slightly when Darcy raised a questioning eyebrow.

Without noticing them, Matlock continued to bluster on for some time before finally winding down.

“Well, regardless of what has brought my son to such behavior—and I expect it has something to do with those rapscallions he calls friends—it’s clear that something must be done. You say that he has not called here?”

Realizing his uncle’s question was directed at him, Darcy shook his head and did his best to keep an even tone. “No. Nor has he been seen at the Park Lane house; I set two of my men to keep watch.”

“Well then, I suppose we shall have to go to Essex to sort this mess out,” announced the Earl with grim decisiveness.

The old Fitzwilliam Darcy would have set aside all his own concerns to assist his uncle, but the new, married Darcy was quite certain it was the Earl’s responsibility to see to his son.

Furthermore, Will had no intention whatsoever of leaving his own wife and sister alone with Lady Alameda in the house while Ashbourne’s whereabouts remained unknown.

Suspecting correctly that his uncle was intending to include him in what looked to be a lengthy and unpleasant expedition, Darcy spoke up quickly; “Very well. I’ll make certain that Lady Alameda and her son are protected until you return to London or send word.

” Before Matlock might argue, his nephew added, “I suggest that you invite Tolmach to accompany you; I can vouch for both his expertise and his discretion.”