by Leenie Brown
“Tell me who you love,” he said quietly.
She blinked against her tears and smiled. “You. Only and always you.”
His eyes closed as he exhaled. She loved him.
She wiggled one of her hands out from under his and placed it on his cheek. “I do not know what I was thinking. How could I doubt that you would ever bring me anything but joy? I have watched you with my cousin and Alistair. You do not prevaricate, nor do you love by halves.” She smiled. “You even braved scratches to rescue a cat.”
He chuckled. “Anne thought it might impress you.”
“You wished even then for my good opinion?”
“Since the day I saw you in Gunter’s last year.” He leaned his cheek into her hand. “Will you marry me?”
“Why?” She needed to know it was because he loved her and not just because they got on well.
“Because I will cease to exist if you do not, and my heart shall shrivel into nothingness without you, for I love you with all that I am.”
A watery smile suffused her face. That was the answer for which she hoped a gentleman who proposed marriage would give as his reason for doing so. “And I can read whatever I wish?”
He brushed a tear from her cheek as he nodded.
“And may I complete my season before we marry?”
“Whatever you ask is yours as long as you, Georgiana, are mine.”
She stroked his cheek with her thumb. “Then, yes, I will most happily marry you.”
Again, he closed his eyes and exhaled, enjoying her caress and allowing himself to savour the peace and joy her answer brought.
“You will not think me wanton if I ask you to kiss me, will you?” Georgiana whispered.
“Not at all,” Jack replied with a laugh. Then, drawing her to her feet, he granted her wish.
Chapter 12
Georgiana leaned her head against the back of the chair in which she sat and, closing her eyes, drew a deep breath. She was tired, but far too happy to fall asleep. Her heart had never felt so – oh what was the word? Safe? Content? Treasured. Perhaps that was it. To know that a gentleman such as Jack Ralston loved you as he did – placing his whole happy existence in the return of that love — was … well, it was just too wonderful for words. That was likely why she could not think of the correct word for how she was feeling.
“About what are you smiling?” Anne lay on her side on her bed with her arm propped under her pillow so that her head was raised a bit higher in order to see her cousin better.
Georgiana’s eyes popped open. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“I was, and now, I am not,” Anne grinned at her. “Tell me about the smile.”
“I will, but, first, you must tell me how you are feeling,” Georgiana insisted.
“Rested and uncomfortable – who would not be with a belly this big?”
“Any pains?” Georgiana questioned.
“Not a one,” said Anne. “I am certain I will be ready to take a ride in the park by tomorrow.”
Georgiana shook her head. The doctor had declared Anne’s pains to be a false alarm, and the baby’s way of announcing that his arrival would be sooner rather than later. He had also instructed that Anne was to stay in bed except for the occasional half hour in the sitting room or a short drive to take some air. Alistair had taken the doctor’s orders to heart, and Georgiana knew that Anne would be following them to the minutest detail. The thought of how much Alistair cared for his wife warmed Georgiana’s heart.
“You will not be going to the park for some time, I should think,” she said to Anne. “Your husband is very concerned about you and the baby.”
Anne smiled. “I know, but I do enjoy how he insists on cossetting me.” She pushed up to a seated position. “Now, tell me what has you smiling.”
Georgiana had arrived with her grandmother and the doctor and had, only a quarter of an hour ago, crept in to take her turn sitting next to Anne’s bed so that Anne would not lack for entertainment if she awoke.
“I was thinking of a particular gentleman,” Georgiana replied coyly.
“Not Mr. Tibbett. Please say it was not Mr. Tibbett.”
Georgiana laughed at the look of dread which matched the tone of her cousin’s voice. “Do you not like him?” she teased.
“Not for you,” Anne retorted.
“And who would you match me with if not Mr. Tibbett?” Georgiana asked. She knew the answer to that. Jack had already shared with her about his and Anne’s plan.
Anne huffed as if Georgiana had asked the most ridiculous of questions. “Why Jack, of course!”
“Jack?” Georgiana feigned shock.
Anne’s eyes narrowed. “You do not fool me,” she said.
Georgiana laughed. “I should not tease.” She was given a teasing smile in reply.
“No, you should not,” Anne assured her. “I am an invalid, after all, and teasing an invalid is very improper.”
“Indeed, it is,” Georgiana agreed with exaggerated solemnity. “Have I told you how much more I prefer the Anne you are now over the quiet Anne we visited at Rosings?”
Anne nodded. “You have. Many times, but I do not mind hearing it over and over. Now, tell me. Were you thinking about Jack?”
Georgiana nodded. “We are betrothed.”
Anne squealed and clapped her hands. “Oh, I knew you’d make a good match!” she cried. “Where is he? I must wish him joy!”
“He is downstairs with Grandmother and Alistair.”
“Send for him.” Anne ran a hand over her hair and then smoothed the blankets in preparation for company as Georgiana did as instructed.
“Is Darcy here?” Anne asked.
Georgiana shook her head as she returned to her chair. “Elizabeth was not feeling well.”
Anne’s eyes grew wide. “Why are you smiling about that?” she demanded.
“Because I am to be an aunt,” Georgiana replied.
Once again, Anne squealed with delight and clapped her hands. “Cousins so close together in age will be wonderful!” Her lips pursed, and her eyes sparkled with merriment. “Do you think if I have a son, and Elizabeth has a daughter, I should petition your brother about a betrothal?” She covered her mouth with her hand to contain her laughter.
Anne was not the only one to laugh at the idea. “Do not let your mother hear you,” Georgiana cautioned.
“Oh, never,” Anne agreed. “Betrothals should not be arranged. They should be chosen.” She held a hand out to Georgiana, who grasped it. “I am so very happy for you. There is nothing better than finding the one whom your heart loves and joining with him in marriage.”
“Elizabeth said something very similar, as did my brother.” The door to Anne’s room opened as she spoke.
“You wished to see me,” Jack said as he stepped into the room.
“Come here and let me kiss your cheek,” Anne ordered.
Jack did as instructed. “Has Georgiana shared our news then?”
“She has indeed,” Anne replied, “and I wanted to wish you joy.” She clasped his hand in hers. “You must wait to marry until I can dance.”
He chuckled. “I must apologize since we are sneaking off to Gretna Green tonight.”
“You are not,” Anne released his hand and swatted his arm.
“You are correct,” he replied. “Georgiana wishes to finish her season before we wed, and I am loath to deny her anything she wishes.” He moved to stand near Georgiana, and she took his hand.
How she liked the comfort that had always settled in around her when he was near. She was still uncertain how she had not recognized before now that he was what her heart craved.
Anne smiled approvingly. “That is a good plan, and not just because I will be able to dance by the end of the season. You will also need to dispose of your apartment and find a proper house in town.” She waved away what he was about to say. “I know you have an estate, but we shall gather in town often, shall we not?” She bit her lip, which had begun
to quiver. “I will miss you.”
Jack chuckled. “My estate is not far from yours. A day’s drive. And yes, we shall gather together often,” he assured her. “I would not miss out on spoiling my cousin’s children.”
Georgiana pressed her lips together as she saw a familiar mischievous look return to Anne’s eyes.
“Perhaps our children will marry,” Anne said, barely containing a laugh as she said it.
Jack shook his head as he, too, laughed. “There will be no matchmaking between our children.”
Georgiana smiled up at him. Their children. What a lovely thought. “Our children shall choose,” she said, returning her gaze to Anne, “for love. Just as we did.”
Jack pulled Georgiana to her feet and, much to Anne’s delight, wrapped her in his embrace and kissed her quite thoroughly. “I will send you your husband,” he said as he released Georgiana and placed her hand on his arm, “in exchange for my betrothed.” He led Georgiana out of the room. Slowly, they descended the stairs and walked down the hall to the library. “Your wife is awake,” Jack said to Alistair.
“And delighted, no doubt, to hear your news?”
“Quite,” Jack replied with a grin. “I told her you would go up to see her.”
And Alistair did go up to see his wife while Jack and Georgiana slipped out into the garden and Lady Margaret continued working on the blanket she knew was going to be needed soon for her first great-grandson. Several more blankets would follow that first one in fairly quick succession. Darcy and Elizabeth would have a daughter before Christmas, and Georgiana and Jack would eventually, in the summer after Georgiana’s second season, add a daughter of their own to the growing brood.
Easters, summers, Yuletides, and sundry other occasions during the years would find the cousins gathering either in town or country where houses would ring with love and laughter. And Anne would look upon the group with pride, claiming credit for both Jack’s and Darcy’s happy marriages as well as her own. Alistair would attempt to correct her by reminding her that Darcy was determined to win Elizabeth well before Anne’s letter reached him and that her plan to help Jack snare Georgiana had almost ended in disaster. Anne would smile obligingly, pat his hand, and declare it had all worked out just as it should, a fact with which no one could argue. For despite one refused proposal, one misguided trip to Scotland, and one failed attempt at enticing Miss Darcy, they had all claimed their loves and found their own happily ever afters.
And Miss Parkes and Mr. Tibbett? What became of them? Well, that’s another tale, and a glimpse at their futures can be found on the next page
Reclaiming Her Heart
A Short Story Sequel to Enticing Miss Darcy
“A moment, please.” Mr. Jones, the Parkes’ butler, motioned to a chair that stood in the entrance hall and then strolled down the corridor, past the morning room on the left and the sitting room on the right, beyond the curved stairs, and to the door that was tucked just behind them.
Mr. Bernard Tibbett took a seat on the straight-backed chair and tapped his foot as he scowled at the flowers on the table across from him. Ralston! He shook his head and muttered the name. Of all the gentlemen to be bested by, it had to be Ralston – quip-filled, always pleasant, rarely somber, Jack Ralston! He blew out a great, distressed breath and shook his head. Miss Darcy had seemed like such a good choice. She was quiet, decorous, and indeed, all that he thought a young lady should be to make a proper, amiable wife. She reminded him so much of Mrs. Bell. How could she be like… He rose as the door to the right of the table containing the bouquet of flowers opened and revealed the person whose name completed his thoughts.
“Mr. Tibbett.” Hazel Parkes spared him only a small nod. “Have you come to share your joyous news?”
“I know not of what you speak,” he replied.
“Come now, Mr. Tibbett. I know I am a female, but I am not devoid of every mental faculty. I heard you speaking to Harold about your hopeful little appointment when I was waiting for my next partner after our dance. You do remember that dance, do you not? It was the one Miss Darcy was to have, but she had gone home with a headache.”
Hazel clasped her hands firmly in front of her and arched an imperious brow at him.
“Eavesdropping is not becoming,” he muttered.
Her eyes grew wide, and her nostrils flared as she sucked in a breath.
“Neither is…” She clamped her mouth closed. As long as the sun still shone from morning until evening, she would not admit to him that she still remembered his declaration of love for her — a declaration which had proven to be false. Instead, she schooled her features into a placating smile and said, “it was not intentionally done.” Then, she dipped a small curtsey. “I will wish you joy and be on with my day.”
Before he could say anything, she turned and hurried to the stairs. She could not stand there speaking with him and retain her composure. Anger and hurt warred within her, each threatening to spill out of her. Either she would dissolve into tears without explanation, or she would provide him with a harridan-worthy explanation about curs such as he before becoming a watery puddle of misery. As it was, she would do well to reach her room before such a calamity befell her.
Bernard watched her nearly run up the stairs to be away from him. She had seemed welcoming last evening. She had flirted and smiled while they danced. Not once had she been disagreeable, which had been a pleasant change from how she always greeted him since that house party last spring.
However, this morning, her goodwill seemed to have evaporated, and she, along with everyone else on whom he had called, was not pleased to see him. In fact, she had never looked at him with so much disdain. And her tone! It was perhaps sharper than it had been at Stanton’s when she had told him in unequivocal words that he was the last gentleman on earth whom she would agree to marry.
He pasted a less perplexed and more pleasant look on his face as Mr. Jones returned to direct him into the study, where he could find Hazel’s brother.
Harold Parkes closed the account book he had been attempting to reconcile and rose to greet his friend. “I had not expected to see you so early.”
“I had hoped to be sitting in a different study,” Bernard replied.
Harold motioned to the chairs near the hearth.
Bernard sank into the well-worn, mossy green, softness.
“I take it that your offer was not met with exuberance?” Harold scrubbed his face as he extended his legs and crossed his ankles.
“No. It was refused.”
“Out of hand?” Harold asked with surprise.
“Not without explanation.” Bernard rested his head against the back of the chair and looked up at the ceiling. “Apparently, your sister has bent Miss Darcy’s ear about our misunderstanding at Stanton’s last spring.”
Harold guffawed. “Misunderstanding?” He shook his head.
“Disagreement,” Bernard clarified.
“Are you still holding to that ridiculous ideology?”
“It is not ridiculous. Dr. Bell is happily married and has been for years, and his wife is precisely what a wife should be.” Unlike his parents who constantly argued – not that many knew. His mother knew how to keep up appearances in public, but at home, whatever his father said, his mother refuted.
Harold blew out a breath. “Mrs. Bell is lovely, but she is not…” he paused and grimaced. “She has feathers for brains.”
“She is sweet and obliging,” Bernard countered, although he had to admit she was not the most astute lady with whom he had ever spoken. In fact, she was a trifle dull when left to herself to carry a conversation. However, a dull woman was better than a quarrelsome one.
“I will grant you that.” Harold shifted in his chair. “So, tell me, was that the full extent of Miss Darcy’s reason for refusing you?”
“No.”
Being called out on his opinions by a lady he thought would make an excellent wife and then reprimanded by her grandmother, who was none other than the
Dowager Countess of Matlock, would have been enough of a blow to bear, but it was not the thing that stung the most.
Bernard’s upper lip curled in disgust. “Ralston,” he fairly snarled the name.
“I beg your pardon?”
“It seems Miss Darcy also prefers Ralston to me.”
What was it with that man? Jack Ralston was no better looking than he was, nor did the man possess a title or greater wealth than Bernard did.
A slow smile spread across Harold’s face.
“This makes you happy?” Was everyone going to treat him oddly today?
Harold shrugged. “Perhaps.”
How could everyone be so blasted pleased with Jack Ralston? Bernard crossed his arms and glared at his life-long friend. “Explain.”
“I am not supposed to say a word.”
“Then say several,” Bernard ground out.
Harold’s face pinched in a pained expression, and he shook his head. “Hazel.”
It was only one word, but it said a great deal. Harold and his sister were closer than many siblings. They rarely kept any secret from each other. Bernard knew this. He also knew that he would be hard-pressed to extract from his friend a secret that his sister had shared with him.
“Both Miss Darcy and Ralston said she was set on snaring me.”
“Ralston? Was he there when you made your offer?” Harold asked in surprise.
“No, he arrived after Miss Darcy had finished declaring her love for the sapskull. I imagine they are happily betrothed by now from the way he was looking at her all last night and again today. Besotted fool.”
“Besotted he may be, but he’s no fool. Alistair Pratt would not abide him if he were.”
Bernard blew out a frustrated breath. “Do not defend him to me. I am in no mind to hear any further accolades about the incomparable Jack Ralston.”
“I was not praising him. I was merely pointing out your error,” Harold shot back. “He loves her, and according to you, she loves him. I wish them well.”
Bernard rolled his eyes and then, grasping the arms of the chair, pushed to his feet. “I am not fit for company,” he said.
