Elizabeth glanced toward the stairs. “It seems that Mrs. Joseph should have the bed.”

Darcy frowned. “In principle, I agree, but my concern for your health outweighs my reason. You, too, should share the bed with Mrs. Joseph. The lady’s husband and I can make do with the bedding.”

Elizabeth slid her hand into his. “I no longer believe that I can sleep without your arms about me, Fitzwilliam. It’s one of the reasons I chose to travel to Northumberland. The prospect of more than a week alone at Pemberley would have never done.”

Darcy thought of how long it had taken to convince his wife to accompany him, but he said nothing to contradict her. “I’m bereft of your closeness when you’re not within my sight.” He stroked her palm with his fingertips.

“Then allow me to lie beside the man I love,” Elizabeth whispered.

When she said such things, his wife enflamed his desire, but nothing would happen this evening. “As you wish,” he said quietly. “I spoke to Mr. Simpson earlier. He believes we can depart on the morrow.Will you be comfortable doing so?”

Elizabeth’s dual contradiction crossed her countenance. “Mrs. Joseph must remain a few more days,” she thought aloud. “But I do so need to be home. To be with Georgiana.”

“Unless Mrs. Joseph has difficulty overnight, I imagine the lady’s husband can see to her care.You’ve served her well, my dear.” Darcy brought the back of her hand to his lips. “These fingers — these capable hands have done God’s work. Now, it’s time to rest. Time to return to our home.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “Rest and Pemberley are not synonymous words.”

“True. It’s a constant battle to keep such a large estate sound — but it’s a glorious battle,” he said with pride.

“Some battles are worth fighting,” she said softly.

Realizing his wife felt the same as he, Darcy smiled. “On that fact, we can agree. It was a point upon which I suspected we would find congress.”



“Mr. Bennet,” his wife caught at his arm, “you must make Kitty see reason,” she beseeched. “Mr. Manneville has asked Kitty to be his partner, but your daughter insists on leaving the room.”

Mr. Bennet, who despised being dragged into these family dramas, sighed deeply. “Is this true, Kitty?”

“Papa, I’ve no time to explain. Mr. Winkler has rushed away.” Pulling free from her mother’s grasp, Kitty started forward again.

Mr. Bennet’s eyebrow rose sharply. “Mr. Winkler?”

“Yes, Papa. I fear the man needs my help,” she said pleadingly.

Mr. Bennet smiled secretly. “Then go on, Girl. Mr. Darcy would know offense if we allowed Winkler to struggle alone.”

Impulsively, Kitty kissed her father’s cheek. “Thank you, Papa.”

Watching his daughter scurrying from the room, Mr. Bennet turned to the American. “I’m afraid, Manneville, that you must find another partner. I’ve two other daughters in the room who would make comparable copemates. The smartest of my daughters is Mrs. Darcy, but the others are equally well read,” he said jovially. “Then, perhaps, Mrs. Bennet is more to your liking. Or you could prefer cards as your entertainment. I believe Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins plan to play.”

Manneville glanced toward the card tables. “I think not, Mr. Bennet. I’ll seek another partner. Thank you, Sir.”


Kitty rushed through the servants’ halls toward the kitchen. A maid reported seeing Winkler headed that way with Jarvis. Kitty burst into the room to find the clergyman conferring with one of the tenants near the back door and Mrs. Oliver filling a large basket with baked goods and cold meat.

“What is it?” she asked as she stepped beside Mr. Winkler.

Despite his countenance’s gravity, his eyes welcomed her. “Miss Catherine,” he said softly and reached for her hand. “This is Mr. Foxmour. Foxmour, this is Mrs. Darcy’s sister, Miss Catherine Bennet.”

“I be honored, Miss.” The man quickly removed his hat and offered a bow. “I remains most sorry for disturbin’ your entertainment.”

“Mr. Foxmour’s mother is very ill, Miss Catherine. She’s in need of a clergyman,” he whispered close to her ear. “I will accompany Mr. Foxmour. I don’t know how long I’ll be away.”

“I’m going with you,” she asserted.

“Miss Catherine, this is a long, slow process,” Winkler reasoned.

Kitty held his gaze. “I wish to be of assistance, Mr. Winkler. My father’s aware that I shall accompany you.” She hoped he understood. She had no idea what was expected of her as his choice, but she was prepared to learn.

Winkler’s smile widened. “Send for your cloak and muff. Mr. Arden prepares a sleigh with blankets, but I would have you properly attired for the weather. I’m sure the Foxmours could use some assistance with the children.” The clergyman turned toward the waiting cottager. “How many is it you have, Foxmour?”

“Four wee ones, Sir.”

“May I bring some paper and crayons for the children?” she asked quickly.

“You might show them your sketches, Miss Catherine. Your work is remarkable.”

Kitty glowed with his compliment. “I’ll be only a minute.” She gave a quick curtsy and disappeared into the servants’ hall leading to her room. She had pleased him; she’d made Thorne Winkler happy with her actions.


A quarter hour later, Winkler lifted her to the sleigh and draped a blanket across Kitty’s lap. “Stay warm,” he instructed as he climbed up beside her. Jarvis and Mr. Foxmour climbed onto the back as the groomsman gave the horses a touch of the whip to start them along the path to the hedgerows.

Winkler moved closer to shield Kitty from the wind. “Thank you,” he whispered. “This will mean much to the Foxmours. You truly do them an honor.”

“I’m not certain how much assistance I might be. I’ve never tended someone who is near death,” she said tentatively. “I pray I’ll not disappoint.”

“You could never disappoint, Miss Catherine.” He slid his hand under the blanket and touched the skin exposed above her glove. Automatically, Kitty placed her hand into his. Even through the leather covering their entwined fingers, warmth spread up her arm in a familiar manner.



“Mr. Darcy and I shall depart on the morrow,” Elizabeth explained as she helped adjust the baby in Mrs. Joseph’s arms. Without a wet nurse, the woman fed the child at her breast.