A Baby for Mr. Darcy

by J Dawn King

  His immediate reaction was to slam his palm down onto the surface of his desk. His inclination was to destroy the parchment, as if it would serve to erase every evil word. He did not. Instead, he focused on Elizabeth’s words about his sister being influenced by those she was around. Was this what had happened here?

  Breathing deeply to control himself, he considered why his sister had approached him now. Until this moment, Georgiana had kept these letters to herself. Hidden them. Cherished them.

  Wickham! Disgust threatened to overwhelm him. Tamping it down, he attempted reason. When long minutes passed and he still was not able to calm himself enough to address his sister, he stood to ring for a footman to find Elizabeth. He needed her clear thinking. Desperately!

  Returning to his desk, he pondered what he had just learned. His heart was devastated at Georgiana’s disloyalty. Had she learned nothing from the events at Ramsgate? Wickham had not been kind to her. In fact, his words were extraordinarily cruel as his intentions towards Georgiana were exposed. How could she accept a rake as being truthful?

  “You believed this...this slander of me?” he asked as Elizabeth finally stepped into the room.

  Georgiana could not or would not answer. Instead, she seemed to shrink into the chair as if hoping to disappear.

  “Will?” Elizabeth asked. “What is this about?”

  He handed her the letters. Elizabeth said nothing until she finished reading them. Placing them on his desk, she studied Georgiana for a long time. Finally, she nodded, as if she understood all of the secrets of the universe.

  Darcy had no clue what she was about as Elizabeth took the seat next to his sister. What came out of his wife’s mouth shocked him and completely agitated Georgiana.

  “I believe we have something in common, Miss Darcy.” Elizabeth leaned slightly towards her when his sister looked up. “Yes, for you see, I too believed Mr. Wickham was charming. I also found him somewhat handsome. Most of all, I believed his tales of woe against your brother and thus, was sympathetic to his plight. My error in judgment, which I now comprehend, has caused Will intense pain.” Elizabeth placed her hand on Georgiana’s arm. “In this we, you and I, are both guilty. Will has done nothing to deserve our unjust thoughts towards him, has he?”

  At the question, Georgiana refused to look up. Instead, she shook her head.

  “Do you believe an apology is in order?” Elizabeth asked. At Georgiana’s nod, she said, “Then pray allow me to go first.”

  Giving her arm a gentle pat, Elizabeth rose to approach him. He stood, meeting her at the side of the desk.

  “My dear husband, for you are dear to my heart, in my ignorance and arrogance at my own perceived ability to define personalities correctly, I have not only had to admit to myself that I was ridiculous in my claims, but also that I wronged you grievously in the process. Pray accept my sincerest apology.” She took his hand in both of hers, raising it to her lips. There, she caressed each knuckle. “You are the best of men, and I am grateful for your tender nature that allows you to put up with my flaws with grace.”

  Elizabeth continued, this time looking directly into his eyes. “I was a fool for trusting Mr. Wickham’s version of your character. Now, I abhor him with all of my heart. Although he never resided there, any trace of respect or admiration I might have once felt has vanished. There is only room for one man in my heart and one tiny little boy. Do you forgive me?”

  “I do,” he softly and easily capitulated. “Thank you for your apology, dearest. It was beautifully done.”

  As she smiled, her eyes twinkled.

  Clearing his throat, he looked at his sister, who had been watching Elizabeth carefully. “Something I want you both to remember is how my own wise father was taken in by Wickham. You are, neither of you, alone in falling for his engaging charm. The salient point is what you will do with this information, Georgiana.”

  “I am sorry,” she whispered.

  “For which error, Sister?” Darcy escorted Elizabeth to his chair behind the desk while he took the one next to Georgiana. “For hiding a correspondence from me? For this lapse alone your reputation would have been ruined should it have become known you had written to a man to whom you were not engaged to be married. Or, for reading and believing lies intended to harm our whole family? Do you honestly believe I think so poorly of you that I would bring a disreputable woman into our home? To Pemberley? Georgiana! Do you not know me at all? Have I been cruel to you? Have I disregarded your preferences and ignored your desires? Is it such a burden to share a house with me? Georgiana? What were you thinking?”

  “I was not thinking, Brother.”

  “Know this, Georgiana. Wickham’s claims against me robbing him of the living at Kympton are a lie. He was paid three-thousand pounds at his own request in exchange for releasing any claim to the post. Of this I have the papers to prove along with Richard’s testimony. Wickham’s propensity to leave behind unpaid gambling debts and soiled reputations of ladies and maids has cost me much more as I strove to restore Wickham to Father’s favor. His attempting to coerce you to elope with him was the final insult against our family. He wants nothing from you except your dowry.”

  The sounds coming from his sister were agonizing to hear. A keening wail had her rocking back and forth, her arms clasped tightly around her middle. His instinct was to gather her to him, telling her all would be well.

  Elizabeth shook her head furiously, stopping him.

  “Miss Darcy,” his wife said firmly. When there was no response, she spoke louder, coming around the desk to stand immediately in front of his sister. “Georgiana, that is enough!”

  Georgiana sputtered to a stop as Elizabeth remained quiet and calm.

  After a time, his sister finally murmured, “I am well.”

  “First, you are to be commended for finally bringing these letters to Will’s attention,” Elizabeth began. “Second, something you need to know is that my sister Mary, shared the news with me that Mr. Wickham is engaged to marry Miss Mary King, who recently inherited a fortune. Thus, every word he wrote to you about his desire to have you as his wife is wrapped around a blatant series of lies. He has no intention of keeping the promises he made to you.” She softened her tone. “Therefore, I ask you what you will do the next time you receive a letter from him? Will you hide it away to savor in private? Will you write back to him in an effort to continue your association with him? I ask you this because he hinted in all three letters at having caused you great insult when he left you at Ramsgate. Despite this, you apparently have forgiven him. Will you do the same again? Will you still allow him a hold over you? Or, are you finally convinced in your heart that he is evil personified and that to continue having contact with him will be to your harm?”

  Georgiana whimpered, “I want nothing to do with him ever again.”

  “That is good to hear,” Elizabeth reassured her. “However, what we need to discuss is your reply. What information about our circumstances did you share with him?”

  She sniffed. “I looked in the family Bible, but William had only recorded your wedding date. There was nothing about Mrs. Mansfield or Jem. George...I mean, Mr. Wickham already knew of your marriage. I told him nothing other than that I was unhappy with our new guests at Pemberley. I also told him how anxious I was to be gone from here.”

  “Hmm,” Elizabeth mused. “I assume you have changed your mind?”

  “I regret all that I have done. I am so, so sorry. I am a fool!”

  “You have been foolish, Georgie.” Darcy moved his chair around to face her. “You are not alone in acting foolishly, Sister. Elizabeth admitted she had done the same with Wickham. I, too, acted the fool while in Hertfordshire. Nevertheless, I am of sound mind when I say that I am grateful you and my wife are here. Elizabeth and I have had to work to establish trust between us. You and I will need to do the same. Your coming to me without my having to discover by other means what had turned my sweet sister into a termagant is to your credit. Your of
fering an apology just now is also to your benefit. Nonetheless, pray know that your freedoms will be curtailed from this moment on until the foundation of trust is laid. I will not intercept your correspondence unless you attempt to hide it from me again. I will ask Mrs. Reynolds to report to me when it arrives and who it is from. Are we all agreed this is fair treatment given the circumstances?”

  Elizabeth said, “Yes”. Georgiana nodded.

  “Brother,” his sister hesitated. “I will give you all letters that come from him.”

  “Better yet,” Darcy clasped her hand, bringing her focus directly to him. He was decided on his path. “Why do you not address a letter to ‘Miss Crim’. When he recognizes your lovely penmanship on the outside, he will certainly rejoice. However, it will be my message on the inside. Additionally, I will be sending my man of business to Hertfordshire to buy up his debts, take them to Colonel Forster, Wickham’s commanding officer, and see he is removed from Meryton to Marshalsea. I am finished with him.”

  Nodding, Georgiana stood, her hand still in her brother’s. “I will see to the task immediately if I might be excused.”

  Sending her on her way, Darcy was deeply moved when Elizabeth grabbed his hand to pull him to his feet. Tugging, she led him to the sofa where they had shared their first kiss. Seating herself, she patted the cushion next to her.

  He was weary. His day had gone from intense joy to sorrow. The secrets his sister had revealed were exceedingly hard for him to swallow. Ridding the Darcy family of Wickham was the right thing to do. He was finished with allowing memories of the good times they had during their youth to soften the consequences for his former friend. This time Wickham had gone too far.

  Hearing that Elizabeth had once admired the rogue was also difficult. He had known it in his heart. But hearing it aloud hurt him.

  As if she understood his inner torment, she snuggled next to him, placing her hand upon his chest. Immediately, his heart rhythm increased.

  “Would it help to speak of your history with Mr. Wickham?” Elizabeth asked as she tucked her face into his neck.

  He did not think it would help. Yet, when he opened his mouth to tell her thus, the whole sordid account poured from him. When he finished, she raised her lips to his, this kiss one of comfort rather than passion.

  “Let us speak and think of him no more.” Elizabeth stated.

  He could not help but agree.

  Chapter 18

  Mr. Oscar Huggins planned to take his time with the investigation. Henry Fitzwilliam, Viscount Smithton, was paying him by the day. Thus, the inspector could use those hours to dig up as much information as possible. Each evening as he reviewed his notes, he became aware a pattern was developing. This was typical when a crime was committed. Nevertheless, he had yet to discover the answer to why the transgression had occurred. He needed more details to determine how the infraction had happened. Most importantly, he required a solid case to enable him to determine who and how many were involved.

  He was not an avaricious man. Huggins enjoyed his work thoroughly. Since his early childhood, his greatest thrill was searching for hidden clues to decipher, piecing them together to solve a mystery.

  Huggins did not believe a person was automatically guilty because he was charged. He bore no malice toward any of the individuals involved in a case. He would not pre-judge without facts. Therefore, it behooved him to leave no stone unturned.

  Flipping to the beginning of his notebook and the information he had spent weeks gathering since his second request from the viscount, he found the most advantageous location to proceed to next when hunting for clues was to return to Meryton. Once he arrived, he was flummoxed to run into the very person he was seeking, Mr. George Wickham.

  George Wickham was having a bad day. Knowing his duty that morning would be keeping watch over the supply depot, he was distressed to wake to a light dusting of snow on the ground. Winter had come to Hertfordshire in unending rain and bone-chilling cold. He hated the militia. If only...

  By the time he had been relieved by another officer, his fingers and toes were frozen. Entering the officers’ quarters, he stood next to the fireplace attempting to thaw. When a young man brought the post into the room, Wickham’s relief at seeing Georgiana’s handwriting almost weakened him. The missive was thick with promise. His day was sure to get better.

  In her last letter she had enclosed a gold bracelet he knew she wore daily. It had been a gift from her brother after the loss of their father. Unfortunately, once sold, the jewelry had barely paid the gambling debts that he owed his fellow officers. He still needed to pay the haberdasher, the inn, the tailor, and the bookseller. The debts he had left in London would also need to be settled before he could show his face in town.

  Weighing the current envelope in his hand, he suspected it contained a more substantial piece of jewelry. Perhaps a jewel encrusted brooch or necklace. His problems would soon be over. He grinned at the possibilities.

  Georgiana’s mother had been stunning when she had dressed up for society events. He remembered Mrs. Darcy dripping with gold and diamonds, which were the lady’s favorite gem. There had to be at least fifty thousand pounds in Pemberley’s safe in jewelry alone, most going to Georgiana after Lady Anne’s death.

  After Wickham tucked the parchment into his inside breast pocket for safekeeping to be opened and savored later when he was alone, he quickly retreated from the fire. Once in his quarters, he broke open the seal, almost salivating at what would surely bring him sudden riches.

  What was the meaning of this? There was no diamond brooch, no emerald necklace, nor a ruby encrusted bracelet inside. Instead, the open parchment revealed three paltry farthings and a note from Darcy.

  At first, the lieutenant smirked at the image of his enemy discovering the perfectly executed treachery. How it must have angered Darcy to discover Georgie had been corresponding with his nemesis. The image of self-controlled Darcy losing his composure was gleeful.

  When the thought occurred to Wickham that this was the end of his attempts to worm his way into the Darcy household, he growled. Pocketing the coins, he threw the parchment into the fire without reading what Darcy had written. He had no doubt the note was scathing. His day was bad enough already. Why add pain on top of pain?

  Surely, his day had to get better. With the intent of making it happen, Wickham chose to head to the inn for a game of cards. His luck had to change, it just had to.

  Stepping outside, a burly man approached him. Fear paralyzed Wickham to a stop.

  “Mr. George Wickham, is that you?”

  Peace was settling in at Pemberley, providing solace to the estate’s residents. The contentment Darcy felt was growing daily. Once he had braved the childhood illness, Jem turned his focus to eating, sleeping, and growing. Each day with him was one to relish. By the time he was six weeks old, his chubby cheeks were a delight to stroke, his abilities to project a multitude of noises from his mouth were joyous, and his quick temper was well-reported on by all at Pemberley.

  Georgiana had remained stalwart in her attempts to adjust her attitude, much to the benefit of the newly wedded couple. Rather than drawing closer to her new sister, Georgiana found Mrs. Mansfield’s company the more satisfying. Darcy had no idea if it was the woman or the infant who held the most appeal.

  Rarely did Darcy have the opportunity to hold Jem. Between Elizabeth, Mrs. Mansfield, and his sister, the little one was thriving with the female attention. However, with the first sign of upset, it was Darcy whom Jem wanted.

  Darcy’s chest swelled each time a frustrated lady sought him out with a fussy baby. As always, the instant Jem was in his arms, the babe quieted. As Darcy held him, he often pondered the children he hoped to have with Elizabeth. In the month they had been sharing a bed, they used their private time to speak of their concerns and their dreams. Elizabeth hoped to have at least two sons. He wanted an equal number of daughters. The first time he had spoken his opinion aloud, his wife had attacked him with
a fluffy bed pillow until the only way she could stop his laughter was to kiss him into silence, a task she continued to perform regularly to his pleasure. The days and nights with his bride were a fulfillment of his every dream.

  He loved his wife with an intensity he had never thought possible. In every challenge, she met him equally. Her devotion...ah, it made him the happiest man alive. She could be tender with him and strong for him when needed.

  Sometime during the dawn of that very morning, he shifted closer to her to draw her into his heat. Appreciating his warmth in the winter’s chill, she murmured in her sleep, “Hmm! I love you, Will.”

  His heart almost burst from sheer joy. It was the first time he heard those three important words from her lips. He had immediately replied, “I love you, my dearest. You will always hold my heart.”

  She smiled, burrowed closer to him, and continued with her slumber. Darcy hoped she would remember. He would never forget.

  Their main worry was the lack of word about Richard. Not depending on his uncle to pass along information in a timely manner, Darcy had Mr. Stilton search out a reliable contact in the Admiralty. Until that day, no information had been made public as to whether or not the troop ship had arrived in Spain. With privateers, the French navy, and pirates abounding in the Atlantic, danger was constant.

  Later that morning, Mr. Stilton burst into his study without knocking, Darcy knew the news would either be the best or the worst. He hoped for Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Mrs. Mansfield, who were all present, that it was the former. It was not.

  “Mr. Darcy, prepare yourself. The news is very bad.” Mr. Stilton could barely catch his breath. “Colonel Fitzwilliam’s transport ship has been captured. To a man, the crew and all the troops are now prisoners of Napoleon. We have no further information, but we cannot expect them to be treated well.”