“True. And saving now will mean more for Alex’s education and future. Although, I am not sure I wish to raise my son here, but that is a worry for another day.”
“Will you ask that handsome Mr Darcy to assist you?”
“Jane…”
“I may be a spinster, Lizzy, but I am not blind. He is a very handsome man.”
“Indeed he is, and extremely kind, as is his sister. He will be a last resort. I should not wish to trouble him unless necessary.”
“I do not think he would consider it an inconvenience.”
“Jane, he is a very wealthy gentleman and well beyond our sphere. It does not do to think such things.”
“Perhaps, but one can dream.”
“Mmm, one can dream.” The sisters shared a look and broke into giggles, which startled Alex from sleep, and he began to cry.
Chapter 14
London
Darcy was hiding his misery at yet another tortuous event. He had lost count of how many such evenings he had escorted his sister to.And this is a soft entry into Society. Darcy huffed.
Georgiana and Lady Matlock had visited the modiste again and ordered a second round of dresses.
Despite his mourning, their social calendar had filled far too quickly for his comfort. No one seemed to care he was in mourning for his late wife. Both he and his sister were being feted, sought after, and exalted wherever they went.
The years away had left him vulnerable to the absurdities of Society. He had forgotten how grasping and shallow most of theTonwere.
So far, their evenings had been squandered at the theatre, concert halls and at more dinners hosted by trusted friends of the Matlocks he cared to remember. Last he heard, Lady Jersey had hinted about possibly providing tickets to Almacks. The one venue to which Darcy refused to escort his sister. On this the siblings were in agreement. Neither would meet a potential spouse at a dance hosting the worst of the first circle.
Darcy had also caught several lookshisway when Lord Matlock spent time conversing with his political cronies during those evenings.
Georgiana assured him thus far, no one had caught her attention. He was proud of her acceptance into Society. She held her own, in her own quiet manner, whilst navigating between the manoeuvrings of the single men and ladies searching for a match. Lord knew the ladies could be just as deplorable as the gentlemen.
Thank goodness tonight was another musical soiree. He was distracted by a headache and memories of his confrontation with Lord Matlock earlier that day. One which was long overdue, yet still left a bilious feeling behind.
Lord Matlock arrived at Darcy House in a jovial mood. Bounding into the study without a care in the world and a huge smile on his face. “Darcy, my boy, how are you?” He poured himself a drink and sat down on one of the comfortable chairs by the unlit hearth. “Lord Pelham asked when your mourning period ends. His daughter-”
“Uncle -”
“No, let me finish. You have a responsibility and a duty to your-”
“Lord Matlock!” Darcy’s bellow echoed around the room.
Shocked, his uncle gaped at Darcy.
“No! Not now. Not a year from now. I am not interested in your political manoeuvrings, in acquiring more money for our coffers, or any of the simpering, witless daughters, sisters, or nieces.”
“My boy…” Lord Matlock began.
“I am NOT your boy.” Darcy’s gaze was firm as he resolutely stared at the older man. He stood and strode over to the closest window, then retraced his steps.“I did my duty. I secured Rosings from the edge of bankruptcy. I married Anne, may she rest in peace. I caged that despicable woman you call sister.”
His uncle startled at this.
“I never made an issue of the condition I found your niece in. There is a reason she died young, sir. It is because your sister all but killed her.
“You play your games here in town, manipulating and moving people like they are pawns on your own personal chessboard. Not once did you check on your niece and make sure she was well. She was not well, sir, she was being ill-treated by her mother and the multitude of quacks Lady Catherine marched through Rosings over the years.
