“No, no. But she knows of my regard and is not an idiot. She even allowed…” He glanced sheepishly at the other man, swallowing audibly before continuing, “We kissed, in the garden, several times. Nothing else happened!” He added vehemently at the sudden leer on Nash’s face. “Miss Bennet is a lady! Halt your insidious thoughts!”

And as he spoke the protective phrases, the memory of how vigorously Miss Bennet had instigated the kisses flashed through his mind and was guiltily squelched. His initial shock at her coquettishness and brazen advance had been rapidly replaced by pleasure in her kisses. Never would he betray her trust in him or harm her reputation, no matter how inappropriate her actions may be in the eyes of some. Falke had only looked upon her zeal as a testament to her attraction to him, a thought that was more than a little satisfying to his ego!

But he knew now that the union was destined to fail ere it had begun, and it broke his heart.

The summer holiday at the Nash country house was passing quite pleasantly for all the guests. Graceholm Hall was a luxurious manor, primarily of Tudor style architecture blended synchronously with Gothic influences, sprawling with numerous wings and hundreds of rooms. Surrounded by acres of rolling green fields, lush gardens, orchid plots, sparse woodlands, and tiny streams, the area was bursting with diversions. Lady Alicia’s declaration of guests arriving and departing randomly, and in large numbers, was not at all an exaggeration. The two months the threesome would spend there was probably the longest of any other visitor, most staying for a week or two at most before roaming on to dwell at another friend’s home. Such was the way of the aristocracy and wealthy during the languid summer months before the rains and cold of winter prohibited easy travel.

Entertainments of all varieties, both indoor and outdoor, were so plentiful to almost be overwhelming. Long hours in the cool shaded patios or well-ventilated parlors were spent in gay conversation, board and parlor games, and so on. Afternoons picnicking by the river, or strolling through wooded lanes, or horseback riding, or playing lawn games was essential. Evenings and late nights of dancing, attending local theater or musical events, performing dramas and concerts for each other, lively literary readings, and carnivals was the daily cap. These amusements were interspersed with excursions to the horseracing track, markets and fairs, football and other matches, museums, and special functions.

The constant influence of female and male companionship of all ages during that short interval would forever be marked as another ascending step in Georgiana’s maturation. Like her brother, she would never be considered a gregarious character. But the months-long barrage of stimulating conversation and activity added to the frivolity and socialization during the Season in London acted as fertilizer to her hidden nature. Lizzy was not at all surprised to see her shy sister-in-law’s blossoming. She had recognized instantly the identical sharp wit and extemporaneous humor in Georgiana that her husband possessed. Darcy would eternally present a stoic face to the public; his proclivity for laughter and absurdity a well-kept secret only know to his dearest intimates. Georgiana was similar, but not to the harsh degrees of her brother. The mature Georgiana who returned to Pemberley that fall would never again be the tremulous, blushing, inarticulate creature she previously was.

Yet, as profound as the alterations to Georgiana, they would pale in comparison to how Kitty was affected by her summer stay.

Initially, she was the proverbial child let loose in the candy store! The majority of the recreations were of a type never seen by her or participated in. This fact, however, inhibited her not in the least. Kitty did not seem to comprehend the notion of making a fool of herself, and if a few of the more haughty guests looked askance or quipped with sneering phrases, she was oblivious for the most part. The young men were utterly charmed by her vivacity and most of the young women found her amusing. But it was the attention of Mr. Falke that overrode all else.

Quite simply stated, Kitty was in love.

The mild attraction and playful flirting from the Masque rapidly evolved into full-blown infatuation within days of Mr. Falke’s appearance at Graceholm Hall. By the end of a month, Kitty was overwhelmed by emotions unique and never imagined.

“Have you ever been in love, Georgiana?” Kitty’s mumbled question was shyly offered as the two walked arm-in-arm along the graveled path between the fragrant rows of orchids.

“Considering the only unattached men I have been exposed to for the past several years are my brother and cousin, it would be unlikely, would it not? I suppose you are referring to Mr. Falke?”

“Yes.” She sighed heavily. “Oh Georgiana! He is so wonderful! Unbelievably handsome with stunning dimples! My stomach flutters whenever he smiles at me!”

“I do not think that is adequate proof of true love.”

“No, no. Of course it is more than that! He is kind, sympathetic, wise, mature, charming, droll, adorable, sweet…”

“All right!” Georgiana interrupted with a jolly laugh. “I understand now! He is perfection incarnate and you are enchanted. Has your Apollo totally swept you away and declared for your hand?”

“Not as yet, but I am confident he shall.”

“How can you be so certain?”

Kitty halted, glancing about to ensure they were alone, leaning nearer to Georgiana and whispering, “He has expressed his affection with the utmost clarity. And last night, when we stole away from the concert, we kissed by the river!”

Georgiana was not nearly as shocked as one would expect. Over a year of observing her brother and his wife in secret clinches had abundantly opened her naïve eyes. Furthermore, the blatant flirting and ardent glances between Kitty and Mr. Falke were noted by all, with widely varying reactions. Georgiana was sincerely happy for her friend and her feminine, romantic sensibilities were stirred.

“Oh, Georgiana! It was divine!” Kitty closed her eyes in remembered delight, her face radiant. “He is divine! I have never imagined how wonderful love can feel!”

“Did he articulate his affection verbally or are you basing all your convictions on the strength of his kisses?”

“Georgiana! You are a tease! And, yes, he did more than just kiss me. He said he wished always to be with me, that I was dear to him, that his greatest desire was to take me to Chapel-en-le-Frith, and more! I am so happy. And Mama will be thrilled!”

Georgiana laughed, steering along the walkway. “Yes, I am sure she shall. Mr. Falke is an excellent gentleman and shall be a fine husband.”

Kitty sighed, face yet brilliant with the essence of love, but suddenly introspective. “It is odd, Georgiana.”

“What is?”

“For as long as I can recall Mama has spoken of little else but the necessity in securing a worthy husband. I can hardly remember a day when I did not notice men, especially handsome ones, gazing upon them not as individuals, but as prospects. We flirted outrageously, Lydia and I.” She chuckled, shaking her head in embarrassment. “I can only imagine how utterly ridiculous we must have appeared! Of course, such coquettishness and charm dazzled Mr. Wickham and earned his love for Lydia. I, however, am thankful for the influence of you and Lizzy. Oh, I know I am not proper! But I do believe I can assert that Mr. Falke loves me for myself. Do you think this is true, Georgiana?” She halted, turning to her silent companion. “Georgiana? Whatever is the matter?”

“It is of no moment, Kitty, truly. Tell me what else Mr. Falke said.”

“You pique my curiosity, dear friend. I have noted that whenever Mr. Wickham’s name is mentioned a shadow passes over your face. I know Mr. Darcy has a poor opinion of Mr. Wickham, and I once saw Colonel Fitzwilliam grimace with disgust when the name was spoken, but am beginning to suspect you think ill of him as well. Pray, what is the history between you three?”

For a moment Georgiana’s heart constricted, the familiar shame and pain of Wickham’s betrayal piercing through her soul. Then, to her astonishment, the sensations rapidly dissipated. In that fleeting second as she walked sedately to the stone bench nearby, she realized that she no longer felt hatred or humiliation. In fact, sitting with a jolt of amazement, she could not even conjure a clear picture of his face! Those eyes that she remembered drowning in had no clarity of color. Was he tall? No idea. The tone of his voice? Unknown.