Sharon Lathan - In the Arms of Mr. Darcy

“Absolutely! The offer will remain extended as long as you wish it to be so.”

She smiled wider, boldly holding his gaze as she cocked her head to the side. “Do your duties with your Regiment keep you wholly occupied, Colonel?”

He blinked at the odd change in topic, heart falling although her expression remained open and frankly flirtatious. “To a degree, yes, but I am not without reserves of free time. Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “No particular reason. I also find that my time is often engaged with the consuming tasks of managing a household, demands of Society, and parenting. The latter, of course, is of tremendous joy to me. In fact, the highlight of each day is when I stroll through The Green Park with my children. The eastern end of Queen’s Basin, along the walk there, is our favorite destination and we try to arrive around one in the afternoon each day, as my eldest, Harry, has decided that is lunchtime for the ducks.” She smiled, still not averting her eyes. “It is a most refreshing way to spend an afternoon, Colonel. I would highly recommend the diversion as a remedy for stressful duties. And, if one is so fortunate, interesting conversations can be engaged in if friends are encountered by surprise.”

Richard soared. Every ounce of steely discipline was called into play to avoid dancing a jig right then. Instead he nodded solemnly. “Yes, I see your point. Thank you for the suggestion, my Lady. I will do my utmost to arrange time to walk.” 

The Darcys’ second season in London drew to a close with no particular upsets, but two last-minute dramas to deal with.

The invitation hastily given to Georgiana Darcy and Kitty Bennet at the Cole’s Masque was indeed a sincere one. Miss Vera Stolesk and Lady Alicia Nash persisted in their desire to have their new friends join in the summertime revelry at the Nash manor north of Stevenage in Hertfordshire. The girls’ perseverance brought a shy blush to Georgiana’s cheeks while sending Kitty into throes of jubilation. True to Lady Alicia’s prediction, her father was amenable to adding two more girls to the mixture. She did wheedle and hyperbolize her desperation, the adorable pout put to good use, but it was a game between father and daughter. Lord Stevenage was not only completely twisted about his only daughter’s finger but also delighted to fill the vast corridors of Graceholm Hall with youthful laughter. He spoke with Mr. Darcy personally on the subject, assuring that the girls would be well cared for and chaperoned at all times. George Darcy added his promise to accompany and chaperone, a pledge that did not completely alleviate Darcy’s doubts, but between the adult persuasion and the pleading entreaties from Georgiana and Kitty, he could not deny the outing.

Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were consenting to Kitty disappearing to the home of a complete stranger, no persuasion needed at all. Neither Darcy nor Lizzy were surprised. Mrs. Bennet was faint with happiness, quite convinced that Kitty would return betrothed to a rich suitor, while Mr. Bennet merely anticipated the silence that would fall upon Longbourn for two whole months!

Therefore, three days after recuperating from the Darcy Ball, the two elated young ladies embarked upon their adventure with George Darcy playing protector. Sternly spoken admonitions were given, Georgiana undoubtedly the only one who would hearken to any of them, but the embraces and kisses of good-bye were as intensely bestowed as the instructions.

“Be well, my Georgie,” Darcy whispered into her ear, disregarding propriety by pulling her into his arms while standing on the street walkway. “Return to me soon. I love you.”

“Quit being a mothering hen, William,” George interjected with a boisterous laugh and sunny smile. “She will be far too busy to think about a stodgy older brother. And besides, I have promised to watch over them.” He winked at Lizzy, who resisted laughing, and boldly met Darcy’s scowl and grunt with a cheeky grin.

The adieus were over after that, the carriage disappearing around the corner before Darcy sighed and turned to his wife.

The second drama was far more serious and extremely enlightening, as it concerned George Wickham.

The discussion that took place the day after Georgiana’s departure, three days before they were to leave for Pemberley, was the conclusion to a predicament that had initially arisen during the winter. Shortly after their visitors vacated Pemberley after Christmas, Darcy had received a message via the contacts he had in the Newcastle area that Wickham’s gambling and erratic behavior were beginning to spiral uncontrollably. There was nothing Darcy could do about the situation other than to instruct his associates to watch for any harm befalling Mrs. Wickham. However, probably before the dispatch made it to the far northern coastal town, Wickham was dishonorably discharged for insubordination. He barely avoided a court martial for drunkenly assaulting a superior officer, so they were informed.

Lizzy was naturally distressed and wrote to her sister immediately. But that letter, like her last several, was never responded to directly. A brief missive from Lydia sent to Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, mere weeks prior to Mary’s wedding, droned on and on about “my poor Wickham’s misfortunes,” but gave no enlightenment as to their future plans. Mary’s wedding was clouded by the scandal, Mrs. Bennet seemingly unable, or unwilling, to relent in her vocal lamentation over “dear Lydia’s tribulations.” Mary handled the drama with her usual aplomb, refusing to allow her mother’s morose attitude to affect her happiness, but it served to alleviate her sadness in leaving the comforts of Longbourn for her new life in London. Lizzy and Darcy were strangely relieved and enthusiastic to quit Hertfordshire for the event of Anne de Bourgh’s wedding in Kent. Even a fortnight with Lady Catherine no longer seemed as gloomy a prospect!

After that one short message from Lydia, no other word was heard. It was as if the Wickhams had fallen off the face of the earth. Darcy’s contacts reported that they moved out of the shabby boarding house they had inhabited after Wickham’s discharge, but no one knew where they were headed.

Obviously Darcy and Lizzy discussed the matter, and she was aware of and appreciative of his attempts to locate her sister. But as always when George Wickham’s name arose, as infrequently as that occurred, Darcy was closemouthed. Lizzy did not push the subject, knowing that his hesitancy was not due to a wish to secret a part of his life, but due to his protective nature and grievous memories regarding his childhood friend.

That respect for his feelings was shattered, however, when on the day after Georgiana left for Stevenage, he announced to a startled Lizzy that he personally intended to travel north to see if he could ascertain any hints as to the whereabouts of Lydia and Wickham.

“No, William, you will not.”

“I beg your pardon?” Darcy glanced up from his desk in shock.

“You will not go traipsing about risking life and limb for my sister. You have already spent far more money than you should in supporting her horrid choice. For this I am eternally grateful for a host of reasons, but enough is enough! I am certain that if there was anyone left who knew their destination upon fleeing Newcastle, he or she would have been uncovered by now. I will not have you frequenting the types of establishments where Wickham entertained and satisfied his aberrant urges. You did that once and it was sufficient for one lifetime.”

“I assure you I can take care of myself,” he countered with asperity.

“I do not doubt your capabilities, dearest.”

Darcy looked away from her humorous smile, gazing out the window in thought as his fingers tapped a rhythm on the polished wooden surface of the desk. Lizzy waited. Finally, he continued, “I have an uncontrollable yearning to wrap my bare hands around that man’s neck and squeeze. I have never felt such hatred for another human being, Elizabeth. Never. And it rather frightens me.”

“Considering all he has done, I judge your sentiments normal. Yet, that is partially why you cannot go north. I fear you may act upon your inclinations, ridding the world of a worthless scoundrel, but harming your kind heart in the process. Despite some evidence to the contrary, vengeance is not normally in your character.”

Darcy released a harsh bark, rising abruptly, and pacing with caged energy before the window. “I am not as certain as you. You know very well, Elizabeth, that I will protect my family at all costs without losing an iota of sleep. It seems, for years now, that Wickham has circled the fringes of my existence. Waiting for another opportunity to strike, to harm those I love, as he has not the courage to attack me directly. I have tried to convince myself that he is merely a pathetic excuse for a man, simply searching for the easy way in life and naturally latching onto the Darcy wealth as the most convenient. But I do not think it is that. Like pieces of a puzzle, it begins to fall into place with the clarity of hindsight.”

“What do you mean?”

He paused, fingers again tapping and flicking as he stared sightless out the window. When he finally spoke it was in a low, contemplative voice, “Small, insignificant episodes from my youth. Wickham sidling up to Father and presenting an innocent face when I knew he was not. Pretending to be pious when he hated attending church. Charming, always charming. Using that gift he possessed to great advantage, knowing that I did not possess it myself. His wittiness and dazzling smile enamored everyone. Except my mother,” he reflected with sudden wonder. “She could not abide him, now that I think upon it. Said he was too noisy. Hmm.”