“Our celebration was Mrs. Darcy’s idea. The lady recognized my desire to involve the village children more in the church service. Mr. Lancaster, my curate, has taken on organizing the group and bringing them together for practice.”

“Calvinism,” Lady Catherine intoned in disapprobation.

Winkler simply inclined his head. “I’ve neglected my duties long enough.Again, Miss Darcy, I thoroughly enjoyed the entertainment.”

“You’ll join us after services on Christmas, Mr. Winkler. I’m certain my brother would insist.”

With a quick glance to Kitty, he said, “I can think of nothing I would enjoy more, Miss Darcy.”

“Stay seated, Miss Darcy. I’ll see Mr. Winkler out,” Kitty announced to the room.

Winkler followed Kitty through the main corridor until they reached the top of the staircase; then he caught her hand and pulled her to him.

“Mr. Winkler,” she gasped, but relaxed against him.

“Say my name, Kitty,” he whispered hoarsely.

She leaned closer. “You’ll be missed, Thorne,” she said coyly.

“I shouldn’t wish my life away, but I’ll count the minutes until I see you again.” He kissed her forehead. “It will be your angelic face I seek among the congregation tomorrow.”

“Would it be inappropriate for me to attend Mrs. Foxmour’s service?” she asked.

He advised, “Take your cue from Miss Darcy. She’ll know her family’s wishes.”

Kitty silently agreed. “I should return to the drawing room,” she said reluctantly. Impulsively, she touched his cheek. “You’re such a good man, and I’m in awe that you believe me a proper mate.”

“You’re more than that, Catherine. I cannot speak everything in my heart without overwhelming you with my desires, and you need time to know your own feelings before we commit ourselves to one another.”

Kitty swallowed hard before saying, “It’s so much so soon.”

“I know,” Thorne said reassuringly. “But you must take your time. Marriage is forever. Being apart until tomorrow may be for the best. Without my presence, you’ll have time to consider what I ask of you. I’ll never be rich, Catherine — not like what Manneville or others can offer you. All I can promise is my complete devotion and a life of comfort.”

“I don’t want Mr. Manneville,” she protested.

Thorne smiled happily. “I needed to hear your denial, and I thank you for it. I don’t like to leave you in this house with that man.”

“There are many to protect me, and I’ll make an effort to avoid Mr. Manneville. He and the colonel shall leave for London soon.”

“Not soon enough for my taste,” Thorne grumbled.



“We’ll be at Pemberley in time for a late breakfast,” Darcy told her as Elizabeth brushed her hair. The Earl’s staff had done an admirable job of meeting their needs on such short notice.

“At the moment, all I care about is a full night’s sleep.” She had relaxed in a tub of hot water and now languidly prepared for bed.

Darcy thought of those who waited for them. “Yet, being home will be exhilarating, will it not?”

“It shall.” She smiled with a stir of regret. “However, I wouldn’t mind a week with my husband in quiet solitude.”

A flicker of alarm caused him to avoid her eyes. “As delightful as that sounds, we must first see to our Twelfth Night duties.”

“Afterward, you promise to sequester us away for an extended holiday?” she pleaded.

“If that’s your wish, Elizabeth, then I’ll make it so.”

Elizabeth shrugged away her embarrassment. “It’s not as if we don’t possess enough quiet at Pemberley. It’s just as I acknowledged at Harrogate: the only thing I need to make me happy is you.” She stood and walked into his welcoming embrace.

Chapter 14

As he had predicted, Darcy’s coach rolled past the Pemberley gatehouse just before breakfast. Elizabeth, as if she knew what awaited her, had awakened with the dawn and had insisted that they leave immediately. “Do you believe Georgiana is awake?” she had asked anxiously as they stared at the familiar landscape.

“I hope so,” Darcy said flatly, wondering again if the Bennets had arrived safely.

“So do I,” Elizabeth said softly. “I’ve missed her terribly. You’ve no idea, Fitzwilliam, how thankful I am to share Pemberley with Georgiana.”

“Last evening you spoke of wanting solitude,” he teased.

“Fitzwilliam Darcy,” she warned. “Do not twist my words. I’m a woman and can change my mind on a whim.”

Darcy chuckled. “So you may, my love.”

They both turned to behold the first appearance of Pemberley Woods as the sun danced across the bare branches in spring’s promise rather than winter’s demise. “I never cease to feel awe at moments such as this,” Elizabeth whispered.

They gradually ascended for half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of the valley, into which the road, with some abruptness, wound. It was a large, handsome stone building, standing well on high ground, and backed up a ridge of high woody hills; and in front a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal nor falsely adorned. There was never a house for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. “Our child’s heritage,” Darcy murmured from beside her.