“The mistress of Pemberley?”The man let out a low whistle. “I am duly impressed.”

“Mrs. Darcy is one of my older sisters,” Lydia babbled, “but my eldest is Mrs. Bingley of Hertfordshire. Charles Bingley counts Mr. Darcy as his best friend. My husband, Lieutenant George Wickham, grew to adulthood on Pemberley. We three sisters remain connected, even though we find ourselves scattered about England. My dear Wickham serves his country:We reside in Newcastle.”

The man tried not to betray his amusement at the situation’s irony but there was a glint of laughter in his eyes at the folly of this pretty, voluptuous, empty-headed girl marrying George Wickham. The girl offered nothing: no substance upon which a man might really build a relationship.“I know of George Wickham,” he mused. “Even in Cheshire, your husband has female admirers.” He chuckled. “It will break many hearts when I spread the story of your marriage, Mrs. Wickham. Are you newly wed?”

“Lord, no. In fact, I was the first of my sisters to marry, although I am the youngest of five. Mr. Wickham and I have been married nearly two years.”

“Two years?” The man looked amused again. He said, “I suppose it too late then to offer my best wishes?” His eyebrows waggled teasingly; yet, he thought, I cannot imagine the George Wickham I know tolerating such an immature girl, nor would he practice fidelity.

Lydia swatted at his chest with her fan. “I am an old married woman, sir.”

Knowing she expected a compliment, he murmured,“You may be married, ma’am, but you most certainly are not old nor are you the picture of matronliness.” He nodded in the direction of the sleeping woman and then winked at Lydia.

Lydia giggled, suddenly aware of the privacy of their conversation. She turned her attention to the coach’s window. “I certainly do not enjoy traveling in winter. The roads in the North were abhorrent—so many ruts and holes. Passengers could barely keep their seats. Thankfully, my husband kept me safe, but a lady we left in Lincolnshire tumbled most unceremoniously to the floor.”

The man’s eyes followed hers. “The farmers at home—in Cheshire—would probably say we are in for some bad weather. See how the line of dark clouds hug the horizon.” He pointed off to a distance. “I simply hope we make it to Cheshire before the storm hits. I prefer not being upon the road when Winter blasts us with her best.” He leaned back and closed his eyes.“We will stay in Matlock this evening.You should be in Lambton by mid-afternoon tomorrow.”

“I will be pleased to be away from this coach,” Lydia murmured as she settled into the well-worn cushions.

As the man drifted off to sleep, he managed to say, “You will have the best that money can buy at Pemberley.”

“Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said. She had found her husband in his study.“Georgiana and I plan to call on some of the cottagers today.” She stood before his desk, looking down at the stack of ledgers piled five high. “I thought you might care to join us, but I see that you are busy.”

“I am afraid this business cannot be postponed.” He gestured to the many letters lying open before him.

Elizabeth moved to stand behind him. She snaked her arms over the chair back and around Darcy’s neck. She kissed his ear and then his cheek. “You will miss me, Mr. Darcy?” she inquired, her breath warm against his neck as she continued to kiss along his chin line. Unable to ever resist her, Darcy reached up to catch her arm. In one smooth motion, he shoved his chair away from the desk, making room for her on his lap, and pulled Elizabeth to him. She rested on his legs before sliding her arms around his neck.“I love you, my Husband.” She laid her head against his shoulder.

Darcy used his finger to tilt her chin upward so he might kiss her lips. “So nice,” he murmured. He deepened the kiss. “I could drown in your love,” he whispered to her ear.

“You are so not what the world expects.” Elizabeth ran her fingers through his hair.

Darcy chuckled, “I am exactly what the world expects: I serve this estate well and my sister well.” Elizabeth envied his confidence and the deep respect he inspired in the community.

“And me well.” Elizabeth moaned as his lips found the point where her neck met her shoulder.

Darcy pulled her closer. “That is what is unexpected—how much I love you—how I can give myself over to you so completely.”

“You have no regrets about aligning yourself with a woman without family, connections, or fortunes?” It was a question she asked often, although his answer remained the same each time.

It amazed Darcy that she could continue to doubt his loyalty—his love. “Elizabeth, you possess me body and soul. Do you not know how much I need you in my life?”

“I know,” she admitted.“It is just that I need to hear it regularly. I realize it is foolish of me, but it is my weakness, I fear.”

“Then I will resolve to tell you more often, my Love.” He kissed her tenderly.

Elizabeth scrambled from his lap when she heard the servants outside the door. “I am sure Georgiana waits for me by now. We will return in a few hours.”

“Do not go far, my Love. The winter weather looms; we are in for a bad spell.”

“Listen to you, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth joked as she headed toward the door.“You sound like one of the old hags who claim they can tell the weather from their rheumatism.”

Darcy cleared his throat, stopping her exit. “Elizabeth, I have lived my whole life in Derbyshire. I understand the harshness of the winters.Trust me, my Love.”

She stopped in her tracks. “If you are serious, Fitzwilliam, I will follow your lead,” she assured him.

“I think only of you and Georgiana.”

“Do you suppose Lydia will arrive before this weather changes?” Elizabeth now expressed the same concern as he.

Darcy stood and came to where she waited. “A rider brought me some papers from Liverpool today, and he said that the weather turned bad quickly. If he is correct, the storm is at least a day out, but it is likely to be here by early in the day tomorrow. Mrs.Wickham’s coach will be driving into the storm.Your sister may have some uncomfortable hours, but I am relatively certain she will arrive safely.”

“You will go with me to Lambton—I mean to bring Lydia to Pemberley?” Elizabeth inquired.

“I will not leave you to your own devices.” Darcy kissed her fingers. “Have a good visit with the tenants.”

“Mrs. Hudson needs someone to repair her window,” Elizabeth reminded him as she prepared to leave.

Darcy followed her to the door. “I will see to it immediately.”


Elizabeth and Georgiana took Darcy’s small coach for their visits. Often they made their rounds on horseback or in an open curricle, but Georgiana suffered from a head cold, and Elizabeth would take no chances with Miss Darcy’s health in the bitter weather. “We have only two more baskets,” Elizabeth said. She accepted Murray’s hand as she climbed into the coach. He closed the steps, setting them inside. “Thank you, Murray. Tell Mr. Stalling we will see the Baines and the Taylors.”

“Yes, Mrs. Darcy.”

Mr. Stalling turned the carriage toward the hedgerow leading to the main drive. “We will keep our visits short,” Elizabeth told Darcy’s sister. “I can tell you are not at your best today.”

“My head feels so full. Perhaps I should remain in the carriage. Both the Baines and the Taylors have a houseful of children. It would not be the Christian thing to share my illness.” Georgiana sniffled and reached for her handkerchief.

“That might be best.” Elizabeth straightened the seam of her dress. “I will make the call; you stay in the carriage and keep your feet on the warming brick. Then I will see you home. I am sure Mrs. Reynolds has a special poultice to make you feel better.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth.” Georgiana sniffed again.