Lizzy kept her gaze directed toward her husband, transfixed by the play of emotions that crossed his face. Initially it was shock; eyes bulging mildly and mouth dropping at the notable womanly figure. This was followed by a deep flush with lips pressed tightly, eyebrow creases formed instantly, and the flash of irritation with clenched fists as she had expected. What surprised and moved her was the gradual transition from protective anger to what could only be described as mournful remembrance; vivid mental portraits of his beloved mother now manifested before his eyes in the body of his sister. Lastly was the abrupt lifted chin and proud cast to his face, as with a beaming smile he strode toward her.

Georgiana too had swung her gaze to her brother upon entering the room. As well as she knew him, the rigid control he maintained at all times outside the privacy of his innermost sanctuaries meant that even she could not always correctly interpret his thoughts. Tonight, however, the naked displays were evident and she silently responded to each expression. Embarrassment at his shocked perusal of her body; shame and fear at his anger; tears and trembling at his mute grief, knowing that she resembled her mother; and finally a feeling of relief.

He reached for her outstretched hands, enfolding warmly. Voice husky, he murmured, “Georgiana Darcy. How beautiful you are. When did you become a woman? If only Father and Mother could see you now. How proud they would be!”

“You are not displeased, Brother?”

“No, my dearest. Merely woeful that my innocent, pubescent sister has apparently disappeared. I have a terrible need to be relied upon and now it fully strikes me that this role is rapidly dissipating. My selfish heart may well suffer with the blow of losing you, baby sister.”

Georgiana giggled, a decidedly unsophisticated sound. “I am only going to a ball, William. Tomorrow I shall be back for you to boss around and brood over.”

“Where does this sharp tongue come from?” he asked with a laugh.

“Try to blame me if you must,” George interjected, “or perhaps even your wife who has a sharp intellect and independent streak a mile wide, but actually she inherits the tendency from your mother. Anne was blessed with a piquant wit and James encouraged it. Neither ascribed to the idea of women as weak-minded vessels, thank God. Georgiana, you are radiant! Red is assuredly the color for you.”

Both girls were swarmed under a barrage of gushing accolades; the men appropriately complimenting their beauty and the ladies fawning over each button and ribbon. In a scene reminiscent of last Twelfth Night, it was Darcy who assumed control and ushered the group toward the waiting carriage, well aware that the flattering could go on forever.

Darcy personally assisted Georgiana into the carriage with a farewell kiss to her fingers and proud smile. Then he turned to George and Richard waiting on the gravel drive. All humor was erased, eyes piercing as he flatly stated, “I am trusting you two to keep a diligent guard over my sisters. Do not let me down.”

Richard nodded soberly. George squeezed his nephew’s shoulder, his eyes equally serious but voice soft, “Have no fears, William. We will vigilantly protect with our lives if need be. The girls will only have joyful stories to tell, I promise.”

Darcy searched their faces for a moment more, nodding once in satisfaction before rejoining Lizzy on the steps.

Kitty had badgered Georgiana into accenting with a mask, informed by Madame du Loire that the affectation was highly in style amongst the youthful singles this year for some unknown reason. Strangely, Georgiana had embraced the idea, displaying an unusual playful side at odds with her natural shyness. Obviously, Kitty’s silliness was influencing Georgiana as much as her steadiness was influencing Kitty! No one was surprised when George whipped out a peacock mask, with authentic feathers. It was quite spectacular and worn with a panache truly breathtaking to behold.

Later that evening, the Darcys lounged in their darkened sitting room. Darcy sat furthest from the blazing fireplace with feet bare and robe gaping open to reveal unclothed legs and exposed chest, yet he actually felt sweaty. Darcy read the book propped on a small pillow while caressing Alexander, the sleeping baby’s tiny body generating heat in droves. Darcy was bestowing occasional kisses to the curly head while absorbing the printed words of Goethe, the inconvenience in personal comfort well worth the joy.

Lizzy sat in an identical chair beside her husband with only a small table separating and less than three feet away from the fireplace. She wore Darcy’s old robe belted securely and drawn taut, and burrowed her stocking clad feet between his warm soles on the ottoman.

Normally, Lizzy relaxed into these moments of domestic felicity as thoroughly as did her spouse, but not tonight. She glanced at his intently placid mien, simultaneously amazed and annoyed at his apparent lack of distraction. She too held a book in her hands, but could not focus on the words.

“What do you think the girls are doing now?” She asked suddenly, rupturing the tranquility.

Darcy looked to his wife with a raised brow, eyes glancing to the softly ticking longcase clock in the corner. “Well, let me see. It is nearly eleven, which means that dinner is completed, yet it is not time to crown the King and Queen, therefore dancing is the primary diversion. Consequently, they are most likely standing in an unobtrusive corner talking with a well selected collective of unsociable individuals, praying that the night will end as rapidly and painlessly as possible.”

He turned with a shrug, Lizzy snorting and rolling her eyes. “Somehow I rather doubt that!”

“Then why did you ask me? I can only venture a guess based on personal experience, hence my answer. You would have a far better grasp on the possible activities, which, God help me, undoubtedly include flirting and dancing with lustful adolescent boys.” He shuddered, Alexander startling faintly and releasing a gurgling sigh.

“More personal experience, Mr. Darcy?” She laughed at his flush, then also released a sigh and tossed the unread book onto the floor. “I wish I could observe them dazzling, and I am dying to hear all the details!” She slyly glanced at her smiling spouse. “And do not pretend you are not wishing you could be there as well, to intimidate those lustful boys if nothing else.”

He shrugged again. “I trust Richard and Uncle George. They know I would skin them alive if any harm came to the girls. As for the details, there is no question we will hear all about it, especially you, who will surely be sequestered most of the day in your parlor reliving each second. Thankfully, I have a hunt planned so will only suffer the synopsis.” He too put the book aside, neatly onto the table, holding Lizzy’s gaze with a tender smile. “Perhaps I should relinquish our son to his cradle and engage you in an activity that will divert your attention away from useless pondering.”

Lizzy grinned salaciously, eyes brightening, and ran one foot seductively along his bare leg to inner thigh. “Hmmm… What sort of activity, Mr. Darcy?”

Darcy burst out laughing, again startling Alexander who jerked and fluttered his eyelids, wiggled and rubbed his tiny face into his father’s scratchy, hair-covered skin before capturing the first two fingers of his right hand and returning to slumber happily sucking. Darcy patted the infant’s back placatingly, attempting to croon amid the escaping chuckles.

“You, my insatiable love, have a wicked mind! I was referring to a competition over the backgammon board, as your fangs always come out with that game. However, I suppose my direction could be altered if you so desire. I intend to stay awake until Watson informs me the celebrants have returned anyway.”

Now he was grinning salaciously while Lizzy reddened slightly, but returned his smile. “Well, since we have until then I imagine we can do both. I have not properly trounced you in backgammon for weeks, so a humbling is in order.” She jumped up, leaning over husband and baby and bestowing a chaste kiss to inviting lips. “I will put him to bed while you set up the board. Say your prayers, Mr. Darcy, as I fully intend to spank you until you beg for mercy.”

Darcy grasped behind her neck, halting her mere inches away from his mouth. “Are we still talking about backgammon?”

But she did not answer, smirking instead with a lifted brow and tiny shrug.