“Mildred, what are you doing?” Anne said as she came sauntering over.

After breaking an icicle from an overhead branch, the older woman began to suck on the frozen stick.“Have you never enjoyed an ice treat, Miss Anne?”

“Of course, she has,” Darcy called as he straightened from lifting the mass to the second level. “Only my cousin prefers her icicles flavored.”

Georgiana bubbled, “I love flavored ice, too. May we add some flavors, Fitzwilliam?”

Always one to indulge his sister, Darcy sent Lucas to ask Mrs. Jennings to send out some oils of cinnamon and clove and licorice. When the footman returned with the oils, he also brought a small bowl of crushed walnuts and some plum preserves and some loose sugar. Everyone gathered around the tray the man held, each with his own tasty icicle.

“Try this.” Darcy placed two drops of licorice on Elizabeth’s frosty rod.

She let the licorice roll down the short stick, turning it to leave a trail of intense flavor in the ice before placing the coldness to her tongue. “Mmm!” she said in approval.

“This is delicious.” Mildred Jenkinson followed Anne’s lead and spread plum preserves on the side of her frosty rod.

“I knew that you would love it,” Anne teased her companion.

“Here are a few smaller ones,” Mrs. Williams handed out the ones she had gathered.

“This one has sugar already on it.”

“Yes, I thought to use the sugar, but I can fix another one.”

“Are you certain?”

“Oh, my heavens, yes. One or two of these are more than enough for me,” the widow shared.“I prefer my treats warm, in fact.”

“Hot tea sounds heavenly right now,” Lydia declared.

Adam Lawrence slapped his hands to shake off the snow.“Let us finish this snowman and then get everyone inside.”

With a renewed effort, the men lifted and supported the three stacking globes as Elizabeth, Anne, Lydia, and Georgiana smoothed and shaped their creation. However, Mrs.Williams helped Mrs. Jenkinson to indulge in one more frozen treat before Lucas returned the flavorings to the house.

Georgiana found a branch with five pointed twigs to represent the snowman’s fingers. “I think I am as cold as you, sir,” she said to the snowman as she shoved the branch into the side of the middle ball.

“Why do you not return to the house?” Darcy suggested.

“No, I would like to stay, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered.“I want to be a part of the group.”

He argued, “But you could ask Mrs. Jennings to prepare hot cider for everyone.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand in a tender warning to listen to his sister and not exert his will over her each time.

Georgiana swallowed uncomfortably, her throat working up and down, but she stood her ground. “Please, Fitzwilliam. It is important to me.”

Darcy bit back the words, trying to trust Elizabeth—they had on more than one occasion discussed his tendency to be overprotective of his sister. He had served as Georgiana’s guardian for the past seven years—after their father’s passing. He was as much father as brother. “Very well, my Dear,” he whispered softly.

Lydia interrupted, “Well, I will ask Mrs. Jennings for the hot cider.” She made her way to the house.

“What do you think?” Anne asked the group.They all turned to look at their snowy embodiment of a man.

“He looks formidable.” Mr. Worth shook the snow from his coat. A chorus of agreement followed.

“I suggest we partake of hot cider.” Darcy ushered everyone toward the house.

Anne caught Mildred around the waist.The woman still sucked on a flavored ice. “Thank you for coming out with me today. I felt young and hopeful. I know that sound ridiculous, but I have spent a lifetime nearly empty of feelings.This was all new to me.”

“You, my Girl, must never return to being that person,” Mildred said. She spoke unusually candidly. “You are too precious to suffer so. It is not necessary for you to completely defy Her Ladyship, but do not let your mother define you. Be Anne de Bourgh in all her glory.”

Chapter 7

Shedding their snow-covered outerwear in a small room off the kitchen, the group made their way to the blue drawing room. Mr. Baldwin had built a roaring fire in the hearth, and the cozy sitting room offered the warmth they all desperately sought.

“Ah, this is perfect,” Mrs.Williams commented as she took one of the arranged cups of heated apple cider and headed for a chair near the fireplace.

“Oh yes,” Lydia Wickham asserted, spreading her fingers around her cup of hot liquid.

Each took comfort in the steaming brew. “This is excellent cider,” Mr.Worth declared.

“You should send a cup up to Miss Donnel, Lord Stafford.”

Adam ignored Mrs. Wickham’s suggestion, pretending not to hear her as he walked toward the bay windows.

Anne laughed lightly. “The rest of us are devouring the spicy mixture, and Mildred still partakes of her icicle. Are you not cold, Mildred?” Everyone’s attention fell on the older woman.

“It is cold,” she admitted, “but it is so refreshing.” The lady slid the last inch of the stick into her mouth.

Mr. Worth came up behind Mrs. Jenkinson. “I think the lady very practical. She uses the ice to offset the heat of the cider she will soon drink.”

Blowing on the cup she held to cool it down, Anne added,“My companion is a very practical woman.”

“I bend to your wishes,” Mildred Jenkinson said and nodded her head in acknowledgment of their good-natured teasing. She reached for the tray’s last remaining cup, as did Elizabeth Darcy, who had just entered the room. She had given Mr. Baldwin orders regarding their guests’ cloaks, coats, and gloves. “Ah, Mrs. Darcy, please.” Mildred quickly withdrew her hand. “You must have the last cup.”

“Nonsense, Mrs. Jenkinson.” Elizabeth gestured to the steaming mixture. “The cider is yours.You must take it—I insist.”

The older woman hesitated. “But it is your home, ma’am.”

Elizabeth knew how to put people at ease. “Please take it, Mrs. Jenkinson. If you do, I will have a legitimate excuse to send Mr. Baldwin for another cup of the hot chocolate that I so enjoy of late.”

“If you are certain, Mrs. Darcy.”

“Absolutely.”

Mrs. Jenkinson appreciatively took the offering and swallowed a mouthful of the spicy drink.“I have never tasted better cider,” she commented before taking another large sip.

“I told you the ice would increase your tolerance of the heat,” Worth announced.

Mrs. Jenkinson laughed at herself. “I suppose you correct, Mr. Worth.” She took a third sip and struck up a conversation with that gentleman about the many places she had visited with her late husband.

The exuberance of the party waned as the warmth of the room seeped into their bones.

“I believe I shall freshen up,” Mrs.Williams announced to those who sat nearby.

“That is an excellent idea,” Anne agreed. “Mildred, I am to our rooms.”

The lady lightly touched Anne’s hand. “I will be there in a moment, my Dear. I want to finish telling Mr.Worth about the late Mr. Jenkinson’s love of Denmark.”

“Take your time.” Anne squeezed the woman’s hand. “You so rarely have a chance to share your wonderful stories with someone other than me.”

Adam returned his cup to the tray. “I shall check on Cathleen.” He bowed and quietly left the room.

Within minutes, everyone had deserted the blue room for his or her own quarters. Everyone, that is, except Mrs. Jenkinson and Mr. Worth. The two seemed to have a real affinity for each other, and they chatted away in front of a full fire on that winter day.


“Mr. Darcy.” Murray stopped him in the front foyer before Darcy climbed the stairs for the evening. “Might I speak to you, sir?”

Darcy, weary from the day and from his constant worries, considered putting off the conversation until morning, but he indulged the man. “What may I do for you, Murray?”

The footman motioned Darcy to a private corner.“I-I have,” he stammered. “That is to say, sir—”

“Yes?” Darcy glanced toward the main stairs, needing to be with Elizabeth and a night’s peace.

The footman swallowed hard. “Well, you see, sir…I thought of something earlier, and Mr. Baldwin says I should tell you.”

Darcy’s full attention now rested on his servant. “Go on.”

“I thought you should know, sir, that I have spoken to young Lawson on three different occasions about not fulfilling his duties.”

“What do you mean, Murray?” Lawson was the one footman that Mrs. Jenkinson had not seen that day.

“The boy disappears for long periods of time, sir.” Immediately, Darcy wondered if Lawson was the one he had seen in the east wing. “I have addressed him twice. Plus, a fortnight ago I caught him in the music room with Miss Darcy. It was one of the evenings that your sister came down to play after everyone else had retired. We were having trouble with the fireplace in there, so I waited until everyone was asleep to clean it out.”

“Caught him in the music room with Miss Darcy?” Darcy’s rage rose quickly. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing untoward, sir. They sat together in the room on the music bench. I simply did not think it appropriate, sir.”

Darcy would need to consult with Elizabeth. The last time he had confronted his sister regarding her speaking to a man while unchaperoned, he had done Georgiana more harm than good. His wife would know how to approach the subject without giving offense. “Would you tell Lawson I wish to speak to him before he goes off duty in the morning?”