He sat on the sofa across from Richard, far forward with long legs spread wide and bridging the gap between cushioned edge and table, acting as both confining barrier and firm support for the nearly one-year-old’s unsteady gait. Walking was a new and marvelous phenomenon, the toddler now preferring the glorious view of the world from above six inches, but still not too graceful with the procedure. The numerous tumbles and near misses from colliding with a sharp piece of furniture when the legs gave out or chubby upper body propelled ahead of the yet uncontrollable lower extremities in no way caused Alexander to be cautious, but gave his parents shivers of fear. So Darcy did his best to restrain his young son’s movements, especially in the cluttered lower level rooms.

At the moment, Alexander was content with the arrangement, happily cooing and babbling as he played with the assortment of brightly colored toys strewn across the once shiny tabletop that had previously graced a gorgeous four-hundred-year-old vase from China. Darcy absently played with the springy curls and stroked the smooth skin, unconsciously prepared to respond to his son as appropriate while carrying on an adult conversation with Richard. It was natural now to slip from serious dialogue uttered with typical resonant tones to the simpler words spoken in a gentle timbre. It made Richard chuckle, but Darcy was barely aware. Nor was he cognizant of the tender expressions, silly faces, and dotty smiles that frequently lit his face when gazing upon or communicating with his firstborn. Furthermore, he only mildly winced when tiny but firm fists grabbed onto trouser cloth and snared a few leg hairs in the process. It was normal and embraced wholeheartedly.

For several weeks now, since the Darcys’ return, the still grieving and romantically confused Colonel had watched the domestic interplay between all three Darcys with a heavy heart. There were times, God help him, when he wanted to strangle Darcy for finding such bliss and, as he interpreted it in his pain, shoving the extreme felicity into his face! Why, he would mentally rage, I was perfectly content as a free-from-all-entanglement bachelor until Darcy of all people grew all moony and sentimental! It isn’t fair!

But the petulant child only reared his ugly head infrequently. He was mature enough to recognize that even while winning battles, dashing off to places all over the Continent, rising in his military career, basking in the glory of accolades, and jauntily extolling the virtues of an unencumbered life, he always knew that the lure of home and hearth beckoned. It appeared that domesticity was ingrained into his cells after all and he was not quite sure how pleased he was with the notion.

He sighed, shifting his legs where they stretched on the table. “I appreciate the jest. And you are correct, of course. I cannot evade reality forever.” He toed a red and blue striped ball back toward Alexander, who instantly released a silver bell to grab onto the rolling toy as if never seen before, his squeal of glee and bouncing body indicative of his joy. Richard smiled and nodded when Alexander lifted the ball toward him with a gesture of thanks. “It is rather humbling to admit the need for refuge and solace as a child. Somewhat emasculating actually.”

“I, of all people, cannot fault you nor tease for that. At least you have not drowned yourself in a brandy bottle, but have managed to act fairly normal. Well, as much as is possible for you, that is.”

“What did you just say about not teasing?”

Darcy laughed, bending for the dozenth time to retrieve a toy that tumbled over the table edge and then pausing for a brief nuzzle and kiss.

“Seriously, Darcy, thank you for opening Pemberley to me. I know I did not precisely ask for an invitation, but just knowing that I am always welcome was an immeasurable consolation. Additionally, I cannot thank you enough for keeping the festivities light while I have been here. I was not in the proper frame of mind to play the entertaining funnyman to a host of visitors.”

“As to the latter, we keep my uncle around for that express purpose. And it was the wish of both Elizabeth and myself to have a quiet season this year, although I am still shocked that Aunt Madeline did not drag you away for a pointed discussion as she obviously knew something was up to find you here, having not even bothered to make your presence in the region known!” Richard grimaced at that error in good-son judgment. “As to the former, as you said, you are always welcome. My home is yours. Besides, Georgiana was delighted to have you as company while we were gone, and even after we came back for that matter. She seems to have become quite attached to your presence.”

Richard glanced swiftly and fearfully to Darcy’s face, but he was engaged in a non-verbal communication with Alexander and showed no sign of alluding to anything beyond normal cousinly friendship. “Yes, well, she is a dear friend and soothed me considerably while I waited for you to quit gallivanting about the Lakes.”

Darcy had proven true in the special type of brotherly comfort, support, and cheering that Richard had so desperately sought. Initially, Darcy had simply been shocked to the core at the result of Richard’s romance. Nearly overwhelmed with remorse at his previous good-natured chafing, he had apologized profusely for his jocosity; but the idea of Richard being unsuccessful had never occurred to him. Of course, the irony in being so confident of Richard’s triumph in light of his own fraught path to matrimony was not lost on either of them, and they did share a few laughs over it. In the end, Darcy could offer nothing in the way of a solution—not that Richard anticipated it—only able to be the proverbial shoulder to lean on.

Richard appeared to be handling his broken heart with far better humor and control than Darcy had. Generally, this was attributed, rightfully so, to his inherent optimism and ebullience. He spoke of Lady Fotherby rarely, and only to Darcy. He refused to read any of the London newspapers that were delivered regularly, the fear of seeing her name attached to Lord Wellson’s in some Society event too great. Oddly, beyond the official announcement, Lady Fotherby was conspicuously absent. The same could not be said of the popular and exhibitionistic Marquess, who was remarkably at every party or ball or event of import, performing outrageously as usual. Only once was Lady Fotherby mentioned, and that was a saucy jibe as to how his newly betrothed must feel about her intended squiring assorted ladies of dubious character to these functions while she was in apparent seclusion at her father’s estate in Hampshire for the holiday season. It was strange.

Darcy was the only one in the family, with the exception of Alexander, who was utterly oblivious to the subtle currents between Georgiana and Richard. No one spoke of it, not even the two individuals who privately wrestled with their emotions. However, there was secret suspicion and speculation that at least some of the Colonel’s ability to deal with his gloom was due to the startling alteration in his feelings toward Georgiana.

All Richard knew for certain was that he could not bear to leave without talking to Georgiana about his feelings. It was only the when and how that concerned him. Well, that and the trepidation over what Darcy would do to him when he found out!

“I have already decided, actually, to leave next week,” Richard answered the query.

“If you wait a bit longer we can travel together, as we are leaving for London in December. The company would be appreciated and I am not yet that weary of your presence.”

Richard chuckled along with Darcy, but then glanced over with a contrite expression on his face as he said, “No offense, my friend, but I would rather not be here when you and Elizabeth celebrate your anniversary. I doubt if you want me dampening your joy.”

“You would not—”

“Yes, I would,” Richard stated firmly. “But to be blunt, I am actually thinking selfishly.”

Darcy nodded and argued no further.

“No point in delaying the inevitable. I suppose when I rode here I had a vague notion of hiding in my room until after the nuptials were past, but what is the point of that? I cannot pretend any longer that I will be able to avoid facing… her… at some point. Not that I travel in the same circles as Lord Wellson, I am pleased to say for a host of reasons.” He paused, twirling the dregs in his teacup and staring with mesmerizing intensity. “No, life does move on, Darcy, whether we wish it so or not. You discovered the same, although the woman of your dreams returned to you.” His voice was faintly mocking.

“Do not give up all hope, Richard. There is someone else out there for you, I am sure of it. You have taken a large step in admitting you want marriage and family. I think in your case, unlike with me, this was a huge hurdle to overcome.”

“Indeed. You always yearned for home and love. Your character and losses placed that desire upon your heart at an exceptionally young age. I, on the other hand, yearned for adventure. Or maybe I merely wished to evade this sort of drama.”

Darcy stared at his cousin’s cloudy face, trying to decipher the welter of emotions that played over his features. He spoke softly, “Do you hate her? Has your anger turned to bitterness, cousin, or acceptance? Do not allow her actions to scar you so that your heart is stone and unable to love elsewhere.”

“Could you have, William? Could you have loved so easily elsewhere if Elizabeth married another?”

Their eyes held for long heartbeats, the contemplative stasis finally broken by Darcy. “No. Never. I am certain of that. But at the risk of incurring your wrath, you know as well as I that we are different in this respect. You just said so yourself.” He held up his hand to stay Richard’s retort, although oddly none was forthcoming. Richard was honestly interested to hear Darcy’s rationale.