“As I suspected!” Lizzy leaned forward, gazing intently at Georgiana, who was blushing profusely. “Indeed, we must hear all. Yet before we embark into what will undoubtedly be a delightful topic with abundant joy and laughter, I regret I must insert an element of disturbance. It is best to have it over and done with, unless, of course, Kitty has already spoken of Mr. Wickham?”

“She did,” Georgiana answered with a nod, “and I assured her, as I shall assure you, that I am not unduly disturbed. Rather I am pleased for the Bennets, who surely have missed Mrs. Wickham all these years. It shall be strange to see Mr. Wickham, uncomfortable, I am certain, and I am glad of the warning, but I refuse to allow that man to discompose me.”

“Well spoken,” Lizzy declared. “We are united in our resolve to bear it bravely and delight in Kitty’s happiness.”

“How did Mr. Darcy accept the news?”

“He was told by Papa, already assimilating the fact prior to my speaking of it. He was calm as typical of his character, but expressed distrust of Wickham’s motives.” Lizzy shrugged. “I fear William cannot ever be indifferent where Wickham is concerned. He will be watchful and prudent. I intend to avoid him utterly, even if William had not ordered me to do so.”

Georgiana laughed at that; the expression on Lizzy’s face at being “ordered” to do anything, even something she agreed to be perfectly logical, was priceless. Still, Georgiana knew that her brother’s animosity toward his once childhood playmate was intense and a result of more than her foolish near-elopement with Wickham, so she did not flippantly disregard his response to the news.

She never had solved the puzzle of their strained relationship, having no idea there was an unpleasant history until after the events at Ramsgate. Her childhood memories of Wickham were pleasant; hence she was so easily duped by the scoundrel. Darcy’s protection of his sister included not shattering her happy thoughts of a charming young man who treated her with wit and humor and kindness. In retrospect that decision was unwise, but chosen with her serenity in mind, Darcy never suspecting that Wickham would have an opportunity to hurt Georgiana. The ugly confrontation between Darcy and Wickham at Ramsgate left no doubt of their past involving serious incidents, but her brother refused to enlighten her.

“If William feels that strongly after the passing of several years, I can only bow to his wise counsel.” Georgiana smiled at a frowning Kitty, squeezing her friend’s hand. “Besides, I am sure he will behave with William and Richard glowering at him! Surely he is merely acquiescing to Mrs. Wickham’s desire to visit her family. And it is a wedding, after all! Love and rejoicing to high degrees shall erase ill will.”

“Indeed you are correct, Georgiana,” Lizzy firmly declared, her voice cheery and light. “And, speaking of love, it is time for you to enlighten us as to when you fell in love with the eminently worthy and supremely handsome Mr. Butler!”

Georgiana gaped at her sister. “How did you figure that out?”

“When Madeline mentioned Lady Warrow and Mr. Butler traveling across the Channel and into London as part of your group, you nearly jumped out of your skin. Then you reddened and glanced at William. So, Mr. Butler it is? He is the fortunate man to steal your heart?”

Lizzy and Kitty were grinning, Georgiana flushing further at their attention. Or perhaps it was the mention of Mr. Butler that caused her heart to flutter and heat to rise. Whatever the direct inducement, she was concerned about one point. “Lizzy, do you think William suspects anything?”

Lizzy blinked in surprise then harrumphed. “William? Are you serious? Your brother is unskilled in the subtle indicators of romantic sentiment, bless his adorable heart. He may catch on in a few weeks if you persist in growing dreamy-eyed whenever Mr. Butler’s name is mentioned. Or perhaps if Mr. Butler were here bestowing hand caresses and adoring gazes he might draw a conclusion!”

“Oh, Lizzy! You are too harsh!” Kitty exclaimed amid the laughter.

“Of course I am teasing and exaggerating. But Georgie knows the truth of it. But why the secrecy?”

Georgiana shook her head emphatically. “No secrecy, I assure you. Aunt and Uncle, Richard and Simone as well, know of our affections and wishes. Uncle and Richard, as temporary guardians, have given blessings and consent for Mr. Butler to court. It was Sebastian—Mr. Butler, I should say—who requested he properly speak with my brother and formalize our desires.”

“Why did he not accompany you here and speak to Mr. Darcy now?”

“It is your wedding, Kitty. He did not feel it was appropriate. And as much as I miss him and wish for our future to be secured, I have to admit I craved time devoted to my family. I have missed all of you so very much, especially my brother and you, Lizzy.”

“William has missed you as well, dear. I agree it is judicious to focus on one romance at a time! However, surely you do not fear your brother’s displeasure at your choice?”

“No! Oh, how could he? Mr. Butler is a wonderful choice, even if I did not love him fiercely. Nevertheless, I can foresee William being a tiny bit dismayed to have his ‘baby’ sister return after months away with a fiancé in tow!”

They all three laughed at that truth, Lizzy breathlessly responding, “He will merely be surprised. Not dismayed in the least. He was impressed with Mr. Butler’s manner and talent when we met at the ball last year. What I am curious of is when your heart was captured. You never hinted of an attraction beyond friendship in any of your letters, deceptive girl! Nor do I recall a particular interest when he played for us, other than enthusiasm for his music. So my curiosity is piqued most high.”

“Yes indeed, it is time! Your story now, Georgiana!”

Georgiana’s dramatic tale of convoluted misconceptions, blossoming love, a classic lover’s triangle, and triumphant mutual accord entertained for a long while. Fresh tea was requested, the sugared cakes devoured, and the fire stirred twice as they laughed and conversed. The night passed the chiming of midnight ere they exhausted the subjects of love and future affinity enough for one sitting.

Major General Randall Artois was determined to get rip-roaring drunk. So drunk that he would need to be carried into the house and poured onto his bed. Inebriated to the point of complete unconsciousness so that even if the house caught on fire he would be unaware. Since reaching such a state of utter intoxication was a task accomplished numerous times in the past, there was every reason to think it could happen again.

So why was it he barely sipped his way through two brandies?

When that plan failed, he thought maybe he could pick a fight with someone. A rousing brawl would either, one, get him knocked unconscious, or two, land him in jail for the night. No better place to cool simmering lust than in jail. He knew that from past experience as well.

But damned if every last man in the pub was so bloody nice that insulting one of them or hauling off and punching for no reason was not an option. And if a small voice inside his head reminded him that those issues had never bothered him before when he felt the urge for a friendly tussle, he told it to bugger off!

Then he prayed that their return to Netherfield would be a quiet one. Everyone would be asleep at one in the morning—everyone, right? They could tiptoe up the stairs to their designated rooms with no one the wiser. Of course, none of the other men had any problem with getting rip-roaring drunk. Not even Mr. Daniels! No amount of shushing stopped the off-key singing and heavy steps, no amount of leading kept them from bumping into every last hall obstacle. It was bedlam and several of the ladies emerged to assist in pouring the drunken menfolk into their beds. He apologized profusely, stating over and over that he had tried to keep them quiet, but the fact that his heart fell when Miss Bennet was not one of the ladies exiting her bedchamber, in her nightwear, revealed his hypocrisy.

An hour later he paced in his room. He had tried to sleep, for about five minutes. He downed another brandy, not that three would have any effect on his level of consciousness. His feet veered toward the door more times than he could count, but whether that was with the intent to lock it—which he had not done—or exit it to skulk down the hall he was not sure.

Oh, who are you fooling, Artois? The only reason you have not gone to her is because you do not know where her room is!

Maybe she does not know where your room is.