Georgiana laughed and watched her fingers carefully as they manipulated another piece of paper, endeavouring to copy the Dowager. “I shall remember it always, Aunt.”
She looked up and caught her gaze. “Then that is all that matters.”
After an hour, Georgiana’s eyes began to tire in the candlelight. “I think I need to stop for today.”
“Yes, I agree. It would be better to continue when there is more light, although I doubt we need many more decorations.” Aunt Henrietta rose stiffly. She nodded at the little pile of things Georgiana made. “I very much like those little bells. What a clever idea.” She grinned at her niece. “Let’s go to the drawing room and call for tea.”
Arm in arm, the pair of them walked through the double doors to the spacious room together. Both stopped dead in their tracks, instantly recognising the dashing man warming himself before the fireplace.
“Oh!” Aunt Henrietta declared, her hands flying to her mouth. “Is it truly you, my son?”
The young man turned, his face lighting up at the sight of the two women in the doorway. “Mama!” he cried out and crossed the space between them in but a few long-legged strides.
As he enfolded her in his arms, Aunt Henrietta wept. “It has been so long since I last set my eyes on you, Richard dearest.”
“You too are a sight for sore eyes, Mama,” he responded, kissing her silver-flecked hair.
Georgiana watched the pair and, when her cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam finally let her out of the embrace, Aunt Henrietta held him firmly by the arms.
“You look wan.”
Richard laid is head to the side and smiled indulgently. “You say that every time I come back from war.”
“Well, it is what I think. I worry. I’m your mother. I’m supposed to worry,” she countered, picking a little fluff off the collar of his jacket.
Again he kissed her tenderly. “I am heartily glad to see you, Mama,” he whispered.
Reluctantly, she stepped aside. “Do you not recognise your cousin?”
Looking up, Richard beheld Georgiana.
She shuffled her feet, uncomfortable with the scrutiny of his stare.
A grin broke out on his face. “Has it been so long that I now behold a grown woman in the place of my young cousin?”
Georgiana felt her face burn and averted her eyes.
“Richard!” Aunt Henrietta cried, playfully cuffing his left arm. “Do not embarrass her so!”
“I apologise, Mama, but my sentiments were genuine. I am all astonishment to find such a pleasant change in you, Georgiana.” He bowed.
Georgiana looked up momentarily into his warm, mid-brown eyes and saw only sincere affection there. She responded to his bow with a curtsey. “I am delighted you have returned home safely from the Iberian Peninsula.”
He inclined his head. “Thank you. I am delighted to be home.” He stepped aside. “Come on in and sit by the fire, both of you.” After seeing them seated, he continued, “It will interest you, Mama, to know that, in the hopes of finding you there, I travelled directly to Netherfield Park to see Darcy.”
“Oh!” Aunt Henrietta exclaimed. “We missed each other by a mere couple of days.”
“How fares everyone there?” Georgiana asked, unable to keep quiet upon hearing where he’d been.
“Everyone is in the best of health, I assure you. And,” he dug his hand into his jacket and produced a letter from inside the pocket, “I have a letter for you from your brother.”
In her excitement, Georgiana almost snatched the missive from her cousin’s hand. She tore open the wax seal bearing the Darcy family motif and read hungrily.
Aunt Henrietta and Richard watched her as she read.
Georgiana let out a squeal of delight, instantly covering her mouth with her hand. “Did you know?” she looked directly at Richard.
He nodded, chuckling at the same time. “Yes, I did.”
“What is it?” Aunt Henrietta demanded.
Georgiana gazed at her aunt, her eyes filling with tears. “Elizabeth has been safely delivered of a baby boy.”
Aunt Henrietta clapped her hands in glee. “Oh, wonderful tidings!”
“They have named him William Bennet Darcy,” Georgiana declared, clutching the letter to her heart. “I am an aunt!”
“You are indeed, and a finer one no nephew could ever ask for,” Aunt Henrietta declared. “Congratulations, my dear.”
“I must write to them immediately.” She rose and scooted out of the room. She made it to the stairwell before catching herself up short and returning to the drawing room. “I apologise. In my haste and excitement, I forgot.” She swallowed and looked straight at her cousin. “Thank you, Richard, for bringing me this letter. You cannot know what it means to me.”
“I think, by the expression on your face, cousin, that I can guess.” He bowed his head. “You are most welcome. I am heartily glad for you all.”
“Thank you,” Georgiana replied, spinning on her heel and scampering away, up the stairs and directly to her room. Once there, she devoured every word her brother wrote. He told of Elizabeth’s difficult labours, which brought a tear to Georgiana’s eye. However, the midwife was on hand and, with her recommendations, Elizabeth gave birth to a healthy baby boy.
Tears dripped from her eyes as she read;
…both Elizabeth and our little William are quite well. Elizabeth sends you her warmest regards and promises to write as soon as she is recovered.
“Oh, how I wish I was there with you all,” she lamented, wiping her face dry. Then, instantly remembering her difficulty with Mrs Bennet, she was content to be where she was. She continued to read. Fitzwilliam turned his attention to her and issued advice for her stay in London.
…I have entreated our cousin Richard to act as a chaperone should our aunt not be desirous of escorting you. We do not wish to tire her unnecessarily. Richard was more than happy to accept the responsibility. I hope you agree, sister.
Georgiana smiled at his words. “Despite your own concerns, you have time to think of my well-being.” She hurried to the writing table and penned a response. She wanted to send her congratulations as expediently as possible and to tell them that all fared well in London.
* * *
Richard stretched out his long legs as he reclined on the settee. “I’m happy to see you looking so well, Mama,” he said, watching her closely.
“What did you expect to find?” Her eyebrows arched. “That I was wallowing in my grief?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant,” she interrupted. “I know full well that your father would not approve of such comportment. No matter how deeply I wish to lock myself away and weep all day and night, it will not do.” She raised her chin defiantly. “When we meet again in Heaven, he will want to know what he missed, and I shall have to fill him in. I can’t very well do that if all I do is cry, can I?”
Richard’s eyes traced the outline of the face he loved so well.
“I miss him so profoundly, I cannot breathe some days,” her voice faltered. “He was a good man.”
“That he was. The very best,” Richard agreed.
He watched his mother compose herself and then ask, “So, tell me, is the war at an end?”
“For now,” he replied. “Napoléon has been captured after being defeated at Waterloo. He is being held on the island of Saint Helena.”
“And where is that?” she creased her forehead as she asked.
“It’s just off the coast of Africa, Mama.”
“Of course,” she nodded rapidly. “He escaped from an island before. Is that wise?”
Richard splayed his hands, happy to hear his mother back to her old self. “That is not my decision to make, I’m afraid.”
“Well…” She shook her shoulders and cleared her throat. “Let’s hope the brute stays put, shall we?”
“Indeed.”
“And what of your Spanish beauty?” She held him captive with
her steely grey eyes.
“Always direct and to the point, Mama,” Richard responded, recoiling from the direct assault on his personal affections.
“A mother has a right to know, Richard,” her gaze remained steady and unyielding.
“She married a vizconde from Andalusia last month.” His response was curt, revealing his bristling feelings.
“Vith…what?”
Richard watched as his mother’s perfectly arched eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. “It means viscount in Spanish.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth impatiently.
He laid his head on the cushioned back of the settee and closed his eyes.
“Why?”
The word hung in the air, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“Was she of loose morals?”
His eyes snapped open. “Mother!”
“Then give me a logical explanation as to why this foreign woman would see fit to jilt my son for another man.” Her lips pursed together, and he knew she would not let the subject drop without a satisfactory answer.
Thankfully, he was spared any more torture by the reappearance of Georgiana. Her face was bright and glowing. He could tell she’d been crying, but her smile spoke volumes about them being tears of joy.
“Georgiana,” he stood as he greeted her. “I trust all is well.”
“Quite well, I assure you.” She treated him to a beautiful smile that gladdened his heart. “I wrote a response to Fitzwilliam’s letter. I have just this moment handed it to Hobbs.”
“He will be delighted to receive it, I am sure.” He held out his hand and guided her to a seat beside the fire. She truly has grown up in my absence. I am astonished at the change, he thought.
With Georgiana’s arrival, the topic of conversation moved on to more congenial things. He was relieved to have been spared having to give the details of his courtship with Doña Rocio to his inquisitive mother.
* * *
Despite being eager to be reunited with his mother, Richard was somewhat relieved when, after dinner, she retired to her room early, complaining of being overtired.
He offered Georgiana his arm and walked her back to the drawing room and rang the bell. “Let’s get this fire stoked up and some brandy inside us. There is a rather nasty chill in the air tonight.”
“Yes, there is,” she replied, as a shiver ran across her shoulders. He watched her delicate hands pull her shawl tighter around herself. “I confess that I find London to be colder and damper than I presumed it to be.”
“It does rain a lot in London,” he replied, pouring two glasses of brandy.
“So I see,” she giggled.
Richard watched her sip from the glass cupped in both hands, wondering whom she took after the most—her mother or her father. He could see the unmistakable Darcy brow and strong eyes, but her delicate cheeks, nose, and mouth, he was convinced resembled his late aunt, Lady Anne Darcy.
“You really look like your mother, you know,” he spoke without thinking. He watched as a blush started at her cheeks and spread its way across her face.
“Apart from my eyes. Fitzwilliam says we have the same eyes, our father’s.”
“Yes,” he nodded in agreement. “You are both unmistakably Darcys.”
Georgiana reddened deeper still.
“Have you ventured out into society as yet?”
“No,” she replied.
“If Mama is up to going out tomorrow, how about I take you both to an assembly.”
Georgiana’s face lit up. “I’d love that,” she said, excitement dripping off every word.
“Then it is settled. Tomorrow we shall dance.”
Her grin spread even wider as the maid arrived to stoke up the fire.
Richard held back his questions, as curious as he was about this new woman in the place of his childlike cousin, while the servant was present. She did her job quickly, and the fire was loaded with logs and crackling away when he finally spoke. “Are you well?”
Georgiana looked across at him, her brows knitted together as one. “As you see, yes. Thank you.”
Richard shook his head, unsure of how to form the query on his mind. “No,” he shuffled to the edge of his seat. “I am pleased to know you are well, but that was not the aim of my enquiry.” He rubbed at the sides of his mouth and watched her patient expression as she continued to gaze at him. “I…I was referring to…” he cleared his throat. “You know…since…”
He watched her features and body tense slightly.
“You mean since Mr Wickham?”
Her voice had a hard edge to it which he did not like at all.
“Yes, since your disappointment.”
His stomach sank as he watched her take a deep breath and close her eyes as though taming her temper and counting to ten. “I shouldn’t have said a word. I’m sorry, cousin.”
“No,” her eyes flipped open. “Do not apologise, Richard. I suppose it is natural for you to ask. You are in my and my brother’s confidence and know it all.”
“But I do not wish to cause you pain by opening wounds if they are not healed.”
She studied his face, then the corners of her mouth lifted. “Speaking of wounds, how is yours?”
Richard flexed his left arm and rotated it in the socket. “All well, as you see.” He grinned. “It pains me from time to time when the cold penetrates deep into the bone, but most of the time I forget it entirely.”
“I am pleased to hear it.” Her eyes sparkled for a second before she took another deep breath and answered his first question. “It is something I shall regret for the remainder of my days, I daresay.”
“That you were discovered and unable to marry?” The pain that flashed in her eyes made his heart falter momentarily.
Georgiana looked down at the glass she still cradled in her hands. “No.” She shook her head. “Not that we are unmarried. That would have been an unhappy union and one which I would have lamented always.”
Richard barely breathed.
“What I regret is that I was so persuaded that I was in love.”
“You were not?” he frowned.
“Not at all,” she said before sipping the amber liquid. “The idea of being in love is so bewitching and ensnaring that, as a young girl with a head full of fanciful thoughts, I was only too ready to be seduced—by love, by Wickham, but mostly by the illusion and feeling of falling in love.”
Richard hung his head. Her words struck him in his innermost heart. “I know what you mean.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” he replied, his voice faltering. “I fancied myself in love with a woman who I not only could not have, but whose goodness and character bewitched me, as you say.”
“I did not know this. Was it the Doña in Spain?” she leant forward, her face a picture of concern.
“No,” he shook his head. “I have made the same mistake twice. I shall not name her, but I thought I was in love. I even tried to persuade her to leave her husband and run away with me.”
Georgiana’s hand rushed to her mouth as a tiny gasp escaped her mouth. “Truly?”
“Truly. I was such a fool.” He finished his drink and placed the glass on the table before them. “Then in Spain I was beguiled by Doña Rocio’s beauty.”
Slowly, Georgiana nodded.
“I would have married her. I would have been a good husband to her.” He flexed his neck. “But she knew neither of us were in love.”
“I am sorry,” Georgiana whispered.
“Do not be, cousin. We are brought up to believe that we must marry at all costs. As the youngest son, I knew my portion would be small indeed. When I rescued Doña Rocio from being executed for helping the resistance against Bonaparte’s army, she bestowed a small fortune on me. It was then that my infatuation began.” He held her gaze, hoping she would see the compassion in his eyes. “I too have been foolish.”
Her mouth twitched in what he inter
preted as a smile. “Then let us learn our lesson. We shall never be so foolhardy again.”
“Agreed.” Richard nodded and rose as he spoke. He refilled his glass and returned to the seat opposite his cousin. “And yet,” he said, swigging the brandy, “one of the main purposes in bringing you here is to display you as eligible, is it not?”
Georgiana laid her head to the side and huffed through her nose. “Indeed, it is.”
Richard chuckled at her exasperation. “Fed up of it already?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I did not particularly like the visits. I felt like a curiosity in a shop window.”
Richard burst out laughing. “Yes, it is a little like that, isn’t it?” He watched as she finished the last drop in her glass. “Any takers yet?”
The scolding look she shot him started him laughing again.
When he escorted her to her room much later, he vowed he would protect her against anyone who did not wish to marry her for anything other than the deepest and most ardent love.
Seven
Georgiana was overjoyed the next morning when Aunt Henrietta declared she would be delighted to attend an assembly. Richard brought it up as quickly as he could. Georgiana almost choked on her toast when Aunt Henrietta said yes. She stared down at the white linen tablecloth with a pink rosebud motif, trying not to cough and not wishing her aunt to see the excitement in her eyes.
“Hmm…that would be wonderful,” the Dowager declared, putting down her teacup. “I crave to see young Georgiana here dancing and enjoying the amusements London has to offer. The weather has been frightful since we arrived. We have only ventured out of doors to walk in the park. Would you like to go?” She turned to Georgiana.
“Oh,” Georgiana responded, “yes, I think it would be a splendid idea.” She glanced at her cousin, whose face declared he was moments away from laughing at her discomfort. “Thank you for the invitation.”
To his credit, Richard controlled his facial muscles far better than she did. Georgiana was impressed.
“You’re welcome. Now that I’m here, I shall do everything in my power to make certain you ladies are entertained.”
Miss Darcy's Christmas Page 4