In the Arms of Mr. Darcy tds-4

by Sharon Lathan

  Chapter Twelve

  Georgiana Darcy, Debutante

  Darcy’s second season in London as a married man with a glorious wife and perfect son proved to be a joyous relief from the agonizing years of his bachelorhood and worries of Elizabeth’s health that had plagued their first sojourn in Town, but a fresh misery was there as he embarked on the demanding task of chaperoning his debuting sister.

  The usual pressure of business matters left languishing for the bulk of the winter, with the residual effects of the Derby mill fire to contend with, kept him busy during the daylight hours. Long hours sequestered with Mr. Daniels, various conferences with purchasers of Pemberley’s products, meetings with Duke Grafton and his shipping partners, and sundry new endeavors to diversify and invest the Darcy wealth were a constant drain on his time. Of course, he loved the challenge and excitement of commerce in all its forms, so did not remotely think to bemoan the obligation. Social commitments were chosen wisely due to their infant son’s requirements. It was a valid excuse utilized by Darcy to refuse the bulk of offerings extended. Darcy would have been perfectly content to spend each and every night alone with his wife and son with only a handful of intimate gatherings to upset their isolation. His wife, not surprisingly, disagreed with this option, not only for her personal delight in socializing and theatrical entertainments, but also for her keen desire to advance her husband’s prestige. Darcy thought it was ridiculous, but Lizzy insisted, so short, well-planned excursions were frequent.

  As the previous Season had proven, having a wife gracing his arm at the endless soirees and galas greatly eased his discomfort in social situations. For the most part Darcy discovered that he could enjoy the events to a degree, although it would be common to note him standing apart from the fray in silence or reserved conversation. As was typical from the time he first entered Society as a young man, he warred between a desire to escape to the serene confines of Derbyshire while simultaneously embracing pleasure in the pursuits he enjoyed that could only be found in London, and the diverse intellectual conversation amongst his peers. However, it was less of a struggle now, and he was again surprised to note the increased freedom and joy he felt in all aspects of his life.

  In fact, it may have been close to perfection if not for Georgiana.

  Oh, not Georgiana specifically, but the emotional trauma involved in her introduction to Society was enormous. Darcy would be forever grateful to Lady Matlock for her invaluable assistance, not certain he would have survived the process otherwise! In general Darcy was not the type of man, or guardian, who apportioned his responsibilities. However, as in the case of debuting at the Court of St. James, the influence and knowledge of Lady Matlock also proved instrumental in acquiring the necessary sponsorship for admission to Almack’s Social Club.

  Acceptance by the Patronesses of Almack’s posed an entirely different set of hurdles.

  James Darcy had submitted his son’s name for the Season following his eighteenth birthday. Darcy had pleaded with his father to spare him the trauma, but the elder Mr. Darcy was firm. His son would appear at Almack’s Club, the concept of rejection unfathomable. Besides, where else would he find an appropriate marriage partner? Fitzwilliam Darcy, heir to Pemberley and the Darcy fortune, was not rejected, and dutifully attended dozens of assemblies over the years, maintaining his yearly subscription as expected. He enjoyed the balls at Almack’s as much as he did any others—that is to say not much—but he was wise enough to recognize the importance. In his ceaseless quest to discover the shadowy woman of his dreams, Almack’s was the logical place to triumph. Also, as the years unfolded, he came to realize that his participation and cultivation of a positive reputation would aid Georgiana’s inclusion when the time came. As much as he personally abhorred a large portion of the game, it was the way of his world.

  One never knew the conversations that took place in the upper room where the seven Patronesses gathered to review each applicant. Why some were accepted and others not was often abundantly clear due to some glaring deficiency in the candidate or the family, but at times there seemed to be no logical reason. The power wielded by the Countess of Jersey, the Countess de Lieven, the Marchioness of Londonderry, Lady Cowper, Lady Sefton, the Austrian Princess Esterhazy, and the Baroness Willoughby de Eresby was absolute and irrefutable. Their good opinion once lost was indeed lost forever, and the shame was profound.

  Thus it was with tremendous relief when, on the morning following the presentation at Court, the courier arrived to deliver the voucher printed with Georgiana’s name endorsed by the Countess de Lieven in her finely scrolled signature. Darcy held the ticket in his hand as he walked to the parlor where his sister and wife relaxed with Alexander, the initial flare of bursting pride steadily waning. Despite a previous vague fear that his sister may be rejected, it was now that his real apprehensions began.

  Georgiana took one look at the paper in her brother’s hand and launched from her chair with a squeal of delight. Darcy suddenly felt bereft of air. She danced about the room gleefully, receiving hugs from Lizzy, while Darcy thought he might faint. Or cry. For the first time it truly penetrated his mind that his “baby” sister was a woman. It was quite probable that by the end of these months in Town, she could be betrothed and taken away from him.

  Why it had never dawned on him in precisely this light, he could not say. But there it suddenly was, and he peered into her radiant face as she chatted exuberantly about dances and handsome suitors, seeing the child of his imagination no longer. His heart constricted with a piercing cold rushing through every cell of his body. Visions of the typical Almack’s atmosphere with the unwed of both sexes on the prowl, flirtation blatant and bold, declarations and proposals rampant, rapid courtship the motive, and plotted assignations common caused him to search for the nearest chair!

  In her exuberance, Georgiana was oblivious to her brother’s distress. His wife noted his reaction and was amused, but also aching for what she knew was a difficult epiphany for the overly protective man.

  “Talk to me, love,” she whispered to him later that afternoon when he joined her in their bedchamber for Alexander’s meal. The four-and-a half-month-old curled his fist around his father’s index finger, both hands lying atop the swell of breast currently providing the babe’s nourishment.

  “Do you have any idea how foolish I feel? I have watched my sister mature with enormous pride these past few years, especially under your tutelage. I have plotted her entrance into Society with a precision Colonel Fitzwilliam would be hard pressed to match. I have even considered the appropriate qualifications for her future husband. Yet for all that, I did not envision her actually with a man.” He released a pained snort, shaking his head. “How pathetic is that? But I cannot deny that the image of my sister clasping onto the arm of some stranger is like a knife in my chest.”

  “If it is any consolation, I honestly do not think this is a picture you will be forced to witness in the near future.”

  “How can you be so sure? I hesitate to bring it up, but she has been known to fall in love, or what she thought was love, in a hasty manner.”

  “You know even more than I that the circumstances surrounding Wickham were unique. It is unlikely that the adolescents or other gentlemen haunting Almack’s will be quite so devious.”

  “Perhaps not in the same way or with the personal incentive, but my sister will be highly prized in the marriage market. Which, as much as I abhor the fact, is largely why Almack’s exists.”

  Lizzy laughed, gazing into her husband’s worried eyes. “Oh really? Is that why you went? To seek out a prized bride?”

  He grimaced, and then chuckled. “You know it was. What else would induce me to suffer the trauma of such a place? Alas, you were never there, so my agony was prolonged.”

  “Poor Mr. Darcy.”

  “Yes, and do not forget it,” he said, leaning to place a soft nibble on her earlobe before straightening and resuming the gloomy topic. “I may have disdained the gam
e, Elizabeth, but the reality is that every gentlemen and lady attends Almack’s not for the dancing. It is to flirt and size up whether a prospective partner is appropriate. Emotions are high with that kind of atmosphere. Desires are encouraged to run free. Everyone is gay and beautiful. It is easy to fall in love there.”

  “Once again you are underestimating Georgiana. The affair with Wickham wounded her more than I think you know. But it also taught her valuable lessons and matured her in ways not so easily discernable. Oh, do not frown! I think at this point Georgie would be hard pressed to recollect what Wickham even looked like, so her scars are well healed. But the education runs deep. She will not make that mistake again, I can promise you that.”

  She transferred Alexander to her shoulder for his mid-meal burping. Clearly he was not satiated, his eyes and mouth wide open as he submitted to the necessary pause. Darcy brought his face to the infant’s level, instantly and unconsciously creating silly expressions that elicited a sunny smile and moist coo. Darcy still held onto the chubby hand, bestowing kisses and gentle bites.

  Lizzy smoothly moved him to her left breast, the feeding recommencing swiftly. Darcy nestled his chin on her shoulder, eyes locked on his nursing son and fingers playing with the mass of springy brown curls. Lizzy continued the conversation as if never interrupted.

  “Furthermore, Georgiana, for all her grace and maturity this past year, is young. It isn’t that I believe it impossible for her to meet the one intended for her and fall in love. I just think it so unlikely as to be nearly impossible.”

  “Considering you undoubtedly comprehend the inner meditations of my sister more than I do, I shall accept that assessment. However, I am curious as to how you can be so certain.”

  “Georgiana has dreams, William. Aspirations. Nothing grand or scandalous, of course. But she wants to enjoy life, travel, and study her music before settling into the routines of domesticity. She talks so often about going abroad, as you know. What I do not think you understand is how vital that is to her. It is precisely because of what Wickham did to her, her extreme foolishness and residuals of guilt over disappointing you, that makes it imperative that she not be hasty.”

  “But, I never—” he growled, Lizzy stopping his automatic rebuttal with fingertips pressed to his lips.

  “Don’t say it, love. She knows how you feel. But allow her to hold on to her emotions and the results. Georgiana is wise enough to perceive that she is not wise! If that makes sense.”

  “No,” he retorted sulkily, Lizzy laughing.

  “She accepts her limitations, if you will. She is well aware that her experiences are few, that her exposure to the opposite sex is minute and skewed. She refuses to be made a fool of ever again, yet is wise enough to know that it could easily happen due to her naïveté. She sees these events—Almack’s, the opera, the ball we shall host, the upcoming summer at Stevenage—as ways to improve her social skills, grow stronger in her convictions, and learn more about life. Your sister is a scholar just like you, my dearest.” She kissed the top of his head, Darcy then lifting from his perch on her shoulder to meet her eyes. Lizzy smiled, stroking through his thick hair. “She has vowed only to marry when she can find that one man who will respect her as a near equal and love her unconditionally. You have taught her that, Fitzwilliam. In the meantime, unlike another Darcy whom I love and adore, she intends to have fun with the dancing and, yes, even the flirting! So be prepared.”

  “I think it shall kill me,” he muttered seriously, and then grinned, his voice dropping into a husky timbre. “I do believe this is all too much for me. I need comfort and tender loving from my wife to cope with the stress.”

  “You know we have an appointment in less than two hours and have yet to begin dressing. Comforting shall have to wait.”

  “Some comforting can be accomplished in short order if necessary,” he retorted, reaching to lift her skirts and commence stroking upward over her bare thigh.

  “You are incorrigible,” she replied, batting his hand away.

  Darcy immediately returned to her leg, adding kisses along her collarbone. “I warned you not to forget my past distress while searching for you, Mrs. Darcy. Your poor husband, who searched for ages while you flittered about the fields of Hertfordshire like a fairy creature delighting in the torment of mortal lovers transfixed by desire, needs to be reassured the wood nymph is his forever.”

  “Reading Shakespeare again, are we? Spare me the dramatic pathos. You are most assuredly a man who is not suffering from lack of affection.” She again batted his seeking hand away, playfully, affecting a severe expression. Darcy chuckled, leaning back into the sofa with hands on his lap and momentarily limiting himself to sensual kisses planted over her bared left shoulder.

  Alexander finally attained his stomach’s capacity and was handed off to his father for final burping and cuddling. The ritual had not changed in the months since his birth. The big difference now was that he often stayed awake for long periods of time after eating rather than instantly falling into a deep sleep. It was wonderful for Darcy, who still strived to be available for as many meal times as he could manage. As the weeks passed and his son grew with a personality that steadily emerged, Darcy began to rethink his priorities. At Pemberley, where life moved at a slower pace, his hours spent in play and cuddling his son were considerable. However, since traveling away from the homey environs to Kent and Hertfordshire, where dozens of family members reside, and especially since arriving in London, where there were the intense demands upon his time, his availability when Alexander was awake and not being adored by a relative was abbreviated.

  The only part of the equation he could control was how he spent his time and this was a gradually dawning realization over those weeks in London.

  Always, even as he lamented the numerous business affairs that kept him away from Elizabeth for long hours or weeks when he traveled, he hungered for the stimulation and excitement that commerce provided. The drive to be integrally involved in his estate’s running as well as the constantly evolving aspects of industry and politics were too deeply ingrained to be denied. Additionally, he craved physical exercise that required hours at Angelo’s fencing or on his horse. He needed the male socialization with his peers at the Jockey Club or White’s.

  He wisely recognized that being a husband and father did not erase those parts of his life that had ruled for some thirty years, and that fulfilling those fundamental desires kept him balanced and thus a better husband and father. But he also recognized that a portion of his aggressive motivation was a result of the loneliness and emptiness to his life prior to finding Elizabeth. With those holes filled, the urgency for action was not as keen.

  Therefore, he started to consider ways to scale his diversities into something more manageable. So far it involved nothing concrete beyond talking to Mr. Daniels, his solicitor, about the best way to consolidate his holdings and streamline matters so his constant attention would not be as vital. It was too soon to see any benefit or make permanent decisions, but he was already surprised at how just broaching the idea eased the burdens weighing upon his heart. He could now hold Alexander and know that as time marched on he would be the kind of father he wanted to be to his children.

  Elizabeth rose, moving about the chamber and straightening scattered belongings while Darcy played with the baby. He smiled, kissing the round cheeks and sweet lips, and nuzzling into the squat neck with blowing noises. Alexander arched and wiggled happily, released giggles and babbling vocalizations, and reached purposefully toward his father’s face and hair.

  Darcy felt that it was only fair for Alexander to be blessed with his wife’s thick ringlets since he was burdened with his father’s nose, a partial jest that Lizzy persisted in countering. The infant’s face had lost all traces of his mother’s features, settling into an infantile replica of his father. Of course, the truth was that Darcy thought his child the most handsome infant alive and was immeasurably proud of the pronounced resemblance, even wit
h the prominent nose.

  “Here, sweet, your rattle.” Darcy repositioned the baby so that he was sitting on his lap and reached into the basket of toys kept by the sofa. He handed Alexander a colorfully painted dried gourd with a slim wooden handle, one of a half dozen rattles in the basket. Alexander instantly grabbed onto the toy and swung the round bulb toward his widely opened mouth. His aim was not the best, the hard object knocking into his nose and causing him to emit a high squeal. He was not to be deterred, however, the rattle again repositioned and the attempt to gnaw on the too-large toy upsetting him far more than the crash into his nose.

  “You are supposed to shake it, thusly, Son,” Darcy instructed, clasping the fat rattle-wielding wrist and moving it to demonstrate. Alexander watched, fascinated, joyfully bouncing his limbs and laughing, but as soon as Darcy released his wrist the rattle was again drawn toward the yawning mouth. “Everything into the mouth with you. Crazy boy,” he said affectionately.

  “He likes to eat,” Lizzy said. “I have no idea where he gets that desire from.” She winked at her spouse, Darcy merely grinning. “However, at this point in time I think it is because he is trying to cut his first teeth.”

  “Truly? How do you know?”

  “Feel his lower gum,” she said, picking up two envelopes off the desk and walking back toward the sofa while Darcy did as told.

  “I feel hard ridges. Let papa see, Alexander. Now you can open your mouth. Oh, be still, you will get the rattle back in a moment. It looks a bit red, Elizabeth. Will it cause him pain?”

  “It can, so I understand. But Mrs. Hanford has a salve that helps. George knew of a formula as well and concocted a liquid that will help if he is uncomfortable. So far he seems unperturbed other than needing to chew on everything in sight. This is also normal, so I am told. Perhaps this smaller rattle that can fit into his mouth will please him.” She retrieved a round, disc-shaped silver rattle filled with beads, one side cut out for small hands to grip. Instantly the gourd was discarded for the new, shiny toy. After a few satisfying shakes, the rattle unerringly entered his mouth for serious chewing, Alexander gibbering happily.