Darcy went to sit beside her on the sofa. Wrapping an arm across her shoulders, he kissed the top of her head. They had often skated with their father, who had taken delight in the outdoors. The two of them maintained the tradition as a way to honour their beloved parent, particularly at Christmas.
“Of course we will. And we shall find many other ways to amuse ourselves while we are there. Shall we depart on the second of January? Our aunt will wish us to stay longer, naturally, but it is a full week and a day after Christmas,” Darcy said.
Georgiana nodded, and they chatted about the novel she was reading, whose story was outlandish and droll. They were laughing when their cousin Fitzwilliam joined them.
CHAPTERFORTY
Lord and Lady Romsley insisted Darcy and Georgiana remain in Worcestershire for their Twelfth Night ball. He might have stood firm in his resolve to take Georgiana home to Pemberley sooner if his cousins had not added their entreaties to those of the earl and countess. The viscount was lately engaged, and his bride-to-be, her parents, and her younger brother would be coming to stay for the event.
Darcy had been astonished when he learnt the identity of the young woman Bramwell had been courting. It was his own cousin, Rebecca Reed. His shock turned to embarrassment when he realised even Georgiana had known about the affair for months.
The Reeds were connected to Darcy through his father. It was Mr Reed who had attended university with Mr Bennet. Once, Darcy had anticipated telling his cousin about meeting his old friend. Currently, he knew he could not.
“I demand you stay, Darcy. They are your cousins, after all, and they would take it as a personal slight if you were not here to congratulate them on their good fortune, especially my darling Rebecca,” Bramwell said.
Bramwell looked entirely too pleased with himself, likely in part because he had kept his intentions secret from Darcy. In truth, it shamed him that he had been so occupied with his own life—particularly in pursuing a lady who was not available—that he had failed to follow events happening with his own relations.No more, he silently vowed. For the next year, he would give all his attention to being a better brother, nephew, and cousin. He would give up any notion of looking for a bride, even if it would do Georgiana good to have a sister. It would be cruel to select a lady for that reason only, but how could he develop a lasting affection for someone when his heart was so full of another?
Bramwell sat across from him on an old-fashioned settee in a seldom-used room located in a corner of the manor. He, Fitzwilliam, and Darcy often took it as their own to avoid disturbing—or being disturbed by—others. Forcing his attention to the conversation, Darcy exchanged an amused, if resigned, look with the colonel, who was beside his brother.
“Theirgood fortune? I would say you are the fortunate one, to be accepted by any decent lady, let alone one of my cousin’s character,” Darcy said.
“All of society would agree with you.” The colonel lifted his glass in salute to Darcy, who accepted with a dip of his chin.
Bramwell waved a hand, dismissing ‘their nonsense’ and nearly spilling his wine on his brother as well as himself.
“If you are going to go flapping your arms about like that, hold your glass in your other hand!” Fitzwilliam said.
The viscount did not bother to respond. Instead, he dropped his feet onto the table between where they and Darcy sat, the sound of his shoes hitting the wooden surface momentarily filling the room.
“I always did mean to have her, you know? Well, for the last several years. Idocall it their good fortune. Mr Reed is well-positioned in life, I grant you, but Iama viscount and heir to an estate rather larger than his own, and my loveliest girl could do a lot worse than me.”
“No doubt he is rejoicing to marry his only daughter to a man who appears in the gossip pages oftener than any other.” Darcy’s voice was low and more than a little too serious for the present situation. He happened to think very well of Bramwell, who was more responsible than many people gave him credit for, which was his cousin’s stated intention for a reason he would never explain.
“I cannot help it if people find me fascinating.”
“Fatiguing, dull, annoy—” Fitzwilliam’s words were cut off when Bramwell slapped a hand over his mouth.
“As I said, I resolved to have my darling Rebecca long ago, despite her connexion to Darcy.” Bramwell spoke casually, as if he were not engaged in a battle with his brother. To Fitzwilliam’s vexation, Bramwell was always the larger of the two, and despite Fitzwilliam’s years of military service, still capable of besting his younger brother.
Darcy rolled his eyes at the joke.
Bramwell released his brother and tugged at the cuffs of his shirt. “Do be a good boy and say you will stay, Darcy. They arrive Saturday, and if you remain until Wednesday, I shall be satisfied.”
Fitzwilliam stood to refill his glass. He held up the carafe to Darcy, silently asking whether he wanted more, pointedly ignoring his brother. Darcy shook his head, and the colonel returned to the sofa, speaking as he did.
“If you and Georgiana delay your departure, I shall go to Pemberley with you before returning to town. I should have a week in which I am at liberty, unless I receive word I am needed sooner.”
This convinced Darcy even more than the opportunity to see the Reeds did. He nodded his agreement, finding the act of speaking too strenuous. He was depressed, no matter how he tried to lose himself in the pleasure of being amongst his loved ones again. Even if he somehow managed to keep Miss Elizabeth from his thoughts during the day, at night, she visited his dreams. It might be a memory of their time together or an image of what their future life could have been. Perhaps by staying at Romsley Hall for a longer period and seeing more people, it would help lessen his melancholia. Fitzwilliam’s company for an additional week would be welcomed, especially combined with all the comforts of being at Pemberley.
“So, as it is just the three of us, Darcy, are youfinallygoing to tell us what has you acting like the end of the world is nigh?” Bramwell said in a low, lazy tone.
Darcy stiffened, and his eyes flew between his cousins. “I do not take your meaning.”
He had a good notion exactly to what Bramwell referred, but he had no desire to admit it. Darcy continued to struggle not to show how out of sorts he was, but he found the task enormously difficult. How could it not be, knowing that by this date, Miss Elizabeth had already resigned the name Bennet in favour of Collins?
Bramwell actually laughed, and Fitzwilliam looked like he was struggling not to. Only an adherence to strict control allowed Darcy to keep his hands from tearing at his neckcloth or scrubbing at his face. He thought he had done a better job disguising his torment.
“It is rather obvious something is weighing on you. It might help to speak of it.” Fitzwilliam was ever the diplomat to his brother’s forthright, bordering on uncivil, intrusion into other people’s lives.
