Page 32 of To Love And To Cherish (Pride And Prejudice Variation #3)

Reeves shook Mr. Darcy awake before dawn, his hand firm upon his master’s shoulder.

Darcy stirred and blinked into the candlelight. “What is it, Reeves?”

“Sir, Ruthie says Miss Darcy has awakened again, screaming. She has need of you.”

Darcy sat up at once, drawing on his banyan and slippers. Within moments, he was at his sister’s bedside. Georgiana lay trembling beneath a quilt, her eyes wide with lingering fear. He took her hand in his, cradling it gently.

“Nightmares of Wickham, Georgie?”

She nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, William. I swear, I do not think of him in daylight, but at night, he comes again.

Both times, both attempts, they tangle together.

I am always running in the dark, always just out of reach.

And then,” She broke off, shuddering. “I always awaken just before he succeeds.”

Darcy remained silent for several moments. At last, he said quietly, “You need time, Georgiana. Time to mend in peace. I have decided: we shall remove to Pemberley. You may ride Daisy as often as you like, and I will see to it that you feel safe again.”

Her lips parted in faint surprise. “Pemberley?”

He nodded. “And when Charles and Jane return from Yorkshire, I will invite them to visit. They are happy, and I believe their presence may distract you from these terrible memories. Bingley has mentioned he shall not purchase Netherfield. Mrs. Bingley has long endured her mother’s pressures; he believes she will be happier far from that woman.

I shall ask my solicitor to inquire after available estates in Derbyshire.

I hope he falls in love with Derbyshire as I have. ”

Georgiana gave a small smile. “That would be agreeable. I do esteem Mr. Bingley, and Mrs. Bingley is an angel.”

Darcy squeezed her hand. “Then it is settled. And if we are to speak of comfort, would you also like Miss Kitty to join us?”

Georgiana brightened. “Indeed. She is very like Elizabeth, kind and gentle. Not a critical bone in her body.”

“Very well,” he said, smiling faintly. “You may write to Miss Kitty, and I shall write to her father. If he consents, my carriage will bring her to town, and we shall travel together to Pemberley in a fortnight.”

One week later, Kitty Bennet was comfortably installed at Darcy House, reclined upon a stuffed chair in Georgiana’s private sitting room. The girls drank hot chocolate and read from The Mysteries of Udolpho .

Georgiana read aloud until Kitty interrupted with a dreamy sigh.

“Lizzy has read it twice, all three volumes. I never understood how she could spend hours in that old oak tree on Oakham Mount. But now, I find it wonderfully adventurous. We are almost finished with the first volume. We must take volumes two and three with us to Pemberley. They will help the miles pass.”

Georgiana laughed. “If you did not read, Kitty, how did you pass the time?”

Kitty sat up. “The four of us spent hours in the nursery sewing for the parish and embroidering our linens. We shared our dreams and wishes. Two sisters now have everything they ever wished for.”

“And you?” Georgiana asked softly. “What do you wish for?”

Kitty sighed. “I do not yet know. I have no desire to marry soon. There is no gentleman in Meryton I admire.” She looked at Georgiana gratefully.

“Thank you for inviting me. Mamma has already begun casting about for a husband for me. Mr. Robinson is a widower with four daughters and, well, I may receive a letter any day announcing an arrangement.”

Georgiana gasped. “Four daughters! Kitty, he must be ancient.”

Kitty shuddered. “He is fifty-two. My father’s age, but looks nearer to sixty. I doubt he can even father more children.”

Georgiana looked appalled. “I am so very glad you are with me now. When Jane has her own home, perhaps she will keep you with her. She understands your mother’s ways.”

Kitty nodded. “She may. Jane knows how persistent Mother can be.”

Georgiana stifled a laugh. “And do not fear, Miss Bingley. She has been sent to her aunt Agatha in Scarborough. A relief, living under the same roof as her would be far worse than being home with your mother.”

The following day, Darcy paid a call on his aunt, the Countess of Matlock.

“My dear boy,” Lady Helen said with a smile as he entered her drawing room. “You have returned to town finally.”

Darcy looked abashed. “I am returning to Pemberley next week and won’t return until late November,” he said, accepting her hand with warmth. “Georgiana is much distressed. Wickham attempted to abduct her again. She wakens screaming several nights a week.”

Lady Helen’s smile vanished. “That villain! Two attempts? You cannot mean it.”

“I do. And I believe the peace of Pemberley, and the company of her friends, may help her recover.” He paused, his expression softening.

“Well... I confess, she does not appear the worse for the attempt. In fact, she is managing remarkably well. Another girl might have taken to her bed in hysterics for months.”

He looked to his aunt, wonder flickering in his eyes. “My sister has proved to be astoundingly resilient; I would not have guessed it myself.”

At that moment, Colonel Fitzwilliam entered. “Ah! My favorite cousin. Darcy, what ho!”

“Richard.” Darcy stood to greet him. “I thought you were in Lisbon.”

“Returned three weeks ago,” Richard said as he extended a hand to Darcy. He paused, his brow furrowing. “What were you saying to my mother just now? An attempt on Georgiana? Was it Wickham again?”

“I had not wanted to alarm you,” Darcy said, his tone quiet but firm. “But Georgiana has suffered greatly. Wickham attempted to abduct her again, this time in Meryton. It’s the second attempt, and though she’s safe, the ordeal has left its mark.”

Richard’s expression darkened. And where, may I ask, is he now?” His voice was low and sinister, his brows drawn in a hard line.

Darcy turned to face him, his jaw taut. “Colonel Forster had begun arrangements to see him transported to Australia. I furnished Forster with the court order for the debts I purchased. Whether that order has yet been executed, I cannot confirm.”

Richard let out a harsh breath. “The devil always does seem to wriggle free of what he deserves.” He crossed his arms. “I’ll make inquiries and ensure Wickham doesn’t slip through the net again. If Forster hasn’t followed through, I’ll see to it myself and write to you at Pemberley.”

Aunt Helen, wide-eyed, clutched the arm of her chair.

“Fitzwilliam, I pray Wickham is no longer in England, but I have no doubt Richard will uncover the facts swiftly, and we shall soon know the whole. She added, I suppose this means you are again postponing your courtship for another season.”

Darcy raised a brow and said dryly, “Aunt, I know you’ll think I’m simply seizing another excuse to delay marriage, but I do intend to wed before the season’s end.”

Richard snorted. “If Mother must wait much longer, she’ll be in her grave before you marry.”

Darcy frowned at his cousin. “As I was saying, Pemberley needs an heir. I shall begin the search in the spring.” He turned to the Countess. “Aunt, may I know the names of the five ladies you’ve selected for me to dance attendance upon?”

“They are only dances, Darcy, not declarations,” Richard said. “The point is to get to know them.”

Darcy ignored him. “Aunt?”

Lady Helen sighed. “I had hoped to host a dinner and invite all five families at once. A man can learn much by observing women interact with one another. And that would also protect you from gossip,” Aunt Helen added, adjusting the fall of her shawl with deliberate care.

“You never dance with anyone save your Darcy cousins. The moment you invite a lady to stand up with you, the town will have you betrothed before the candles burn out.”

Darcy grimaced. “Perhaps I ought to have danced now and then over the years, if only to prevent such immediate speculation.”

“Indeed,” said his aunt. “But with the right company, and your cousins present, we may shield you from scandal.” His aunt gave a satisfied nod.

“Which is why I believe a small dinner here at Matlock House is the better path. I shall invite the five families, each with a daughter who is a diamond of the first water, along with two dear friends of mine who each have an eligible daughter, young ladies who are not beautiful, but they are well-dowered and quite respectable.”

Darcy raised a brow, but said nothing.

“It will ease you into society’s expectations,” she continued briskly, “without drawing undue attention to any one woman. By the end of the evening, you should begin to feel a preference, or at the very least, a disinclination, for each young lady. That is, provided you make proper use of the opportunity and actually hold a conversation with each one rather than propping up a wall in the corner.”

Darcy gave her a dry look. “I take your meaning.”

“You had better,” she said, with a look that brooked no nonsense.

Richard laughed. “I remember Darcy in a ballroom, what a sight. Glowering in a corner like some moody statue.”

Darcy glared. “I was not searching for a wife on the Continent.”

Richard quieted, his expression shuttered. His mother must never know of their military service.

That evening, Darcy, Georgiana, and Kitty dined with the family at Matlock House. After the meal, Georgiana played a gentle Mozart air on the pianoforte, while Darcy and Richard conversed quietly in the corner.

“I read a dispatch on Rachel Charlotte Biggs,” Richard said. “Have you heard of her?”

Darcy shook his head.

“She’s a writer, so it seems, but she’s been moving through Napoleon’s Europe since eighteen hundred and two. The woman sends intelligence straight to London. Military strength, industry, agriculture, political sentiment, you name it.”

“A woman?” Darcy looked impressed. “And her cover?”

“Travel writing,” Richard said. “She’s remarkable and managed to enter French-controlled zones more than once and sends details directly to ministers.”

Darcy’s brow rose. “She must be well connected.”

“She is. And careful.” Richard leaned back. “You and I have trusted each other with our lives. But I would trust her with my country’s.”

Darcy nodded slowly. “I am the soul of discretion, Richard. You need not fear.”

“I know,” said Richard, smiling. “That’s why I can speak to you now.”

As the music drifted and the fire crackled, the cousins sat together, two men who had risked their lives in silence, speaking now in trust, while Georgiana’s playing rose like balm in the quiet room.

About twenty minutes later, as the soft notes of Mozart drifted through the drawing room, Richard leaned back in his chair and gave Darcy a sideways glance.

“My dear cousin,” he said at last, with a half-smile, “I know your habits too well. You brood. You plan. You scheme and weigh and calculate, down to the last jot and tittle.”

Darcy arched a brow but said nothing.

Richard went on. “You will, I daresay, take another three months deciding how best to proceed, unless someone gives you a gentle shove in the right direction. Permit me to be that someone. Ask my mother to host the dinner by the end of this week.”

Darcy gave him a wary look. “So soon?”

“Yes. Meet the seven young ladies. Observe them, converse a little, just enough to form a notion. Then depart for Pemberley as planned. Over the summer and autumn, you may ponder at your leisure, let your impressions settle. Come winter, you will know which women to pursue, and which not to touch with a ten-foot pole.”

Darcy gave a quiet huff of amusement. “You make it sound so very efficient.”

Richard grinned. “It is efficient. And more to the point, it is necessary. You cannot remain in limbo forever, Will. Pemberley needs an heir, as you so solemnly declared not half an hour past.”

Darcy leaned back, eyes distant, then nodded once. “Very well. I shall speak to your mother in the morning.”

“Excellent,” Richard said, raising his glass. “To duty, then. And to not marry a harpy out of haste.”

Darcy smirked. “Or a diamond of the first water with a mind like porridge.”

“Precisely,” said Richard. “Let us hope the field is not entirely barren.”

Darcy smirked. “I shall count myself fortunate if I can but avoid women possessed of claws, horns, and teeth, all employed, it would seem, for the express purpose of tearing the spirit from a man.” He thought of Miss Bingley and gave an involuntary shudder.