Chapter 2 An Autumn Accord

“Fear not.  Your Fitzwilliam cousins, I am told, brutally punished the Viscount Torrington, but not before Jane had to physically fight him off and throw your aunt’s figurines at his head as a means to protect herself.” Elizabeth waited as the ghastly scene she had just become acquainted with herself sunk into the consciences of both gentlemen. “My sister will never seek another London season and I cannot reasonably be expected to contradict her,” she finished flatly.

Darcy sighed and rose from his chair to fetch another for his wife. Clearly, this was a weighty discussion well beyond a simple household matter. He would not ask Hamilton to rise from his wife’s normal seat, and instead offered the new chair to Elizabeth. She held out her hand and he gracefully led her to the richly upholstered seat.

Darcy returned to his desk, clasping his hands as his mind raced. Why hadn’t Richard sent a letter about the attack? He had no doubt of his sister-in-law’s claims. Viscount Torrington was a cad and used women like handkerchiefs whilst in town. Still, because Jane would not seek another season in London did not mean she was the most suitable guardian for the boy.

“While the attack on your sister is abhorrent, there is still no reason to delay the child from his future family. I respect your sister’s wishes concerning her living arrangements, but I cannot in good conscience arrive at the next conclusion that the child be best left in her care.”

“He is named for my father. We lost our dear sister, as well. You cannot ask Jane to give away Lydia’s only issue, a child she saved with her own two hands. It is God’s miracle the child breathes and you would cast him away from his family because you cannot see Jane as fit to be his guardian, his own flesh and blood?

“Your emotions are distracting you from the logic in thissituation.”

“My emotions are what allow me to see this situation with perfect clarity, Fitzwilliam. Tell me, if you had lost Georgiana thus, would you cast her only child out to a tenant family?”

Darcy’s eyes flashed with anger equal to Elizabeth’s. Mr. Hamilton stuttered an offer to quit the study to give them privacy, but Darcy waved the offer away.

“Georgiana is my only sister. It is not possible I should lose her in such a manner.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips and leaned forward in her chair. “How dare you, sir! The number of sisters one has does not diminish the love one has for them. You said yourself Lydia easily could have been Georgiana. It was only last summer she nearly ran away with that evil man herself.”

Elizabeth’s heart clenched painfully in her chest, the nagging voice in her head screamed here was proof her husband truly had no honest respect for her family. Very near to saying words she knew she would most heartily regret, she concentrated on memories of the wonderful provider and protector Fitzwilliam had been since last winter. Rising from her chair, the gentleman did not bother to politely stand. She began to walk towards the door. Instead, her husband roared to life.

“Madame, we are not finished!”

Elizabeth turned as she reached the door and stared her husband square in the eye. “We are quite through, Fitzwilliam. The child’s last name is Bennet, not Darcy. This is a matter for the Bennet family. My sister is not without means, nor am I. Your only choices, dear husband, are to find a way in your heart to support our decision, or suffer the consequences of your mistake.” The foul word of error cut true. Feeling immediately guilty, Elizabeth Darcy tempered herwords.

“I know you are not uncaring and once you reflect upon this matter with the information I have imparted, you will find a way to help Jane protect our nephew.” Elizabeth opened the study door to allow herself to exit.

The silence in Darcy’s study hung heavily in the air. Graham Hamilton had never seen such a forceful display of intellect and passion in a single woman. Without meaning to, he blew out a low whistle, attracting Darcy’s attention.

“I apologize you were privy to our quarrel. It is uncharacteristic of her to be so rude and I believe the loss of two family members weighs upon her.”

Graham relaxed in his chair and shrugged his elbows onto the armrests. “There is no need to apologize, Darcy. She parried your argument, won her points, and I daresay won the match. The only question is how do we support Miss Bennet with the child?”

Darcy raised an eyebrow at his old friend.

“We?”

The two gentlemen shared a moment of nonverbal agreement and Darcy opened his drawer to produce fresh parchment. With many matters to hammer out, Graham Hamilton and Fitzwilliam Darcy remained in the master’s study well over another hour.

His fingers ink-stained and his cravat loosened, Mr. Darcy exited his study at last to find his wife. As he searched the main floor of Starvet House, he found the housekeeper, Mrs. Buchanan, overseeing two maids in the parlor.

“Pardon, have you seen Mrs. Darcy?”

The stocky woman turned round with a stormy expression for her master. She had seen the aftermath of Mrs. Darcy visiting the master’s study.  “She left for one of her walks nigh an hour ago, sir.”

The coldness in Mrs. Buchanan’s voice startled Darcy but he was too worried about how long his wife had been out of doors to consider the loyalty of staff members to the master or the mistress of the house. With long strides, Darcy hastened to the rear of Starvet House to the convergence of the four paths he had shown his lovely wife the first day they arrived. He had no doubt as to which path Elizabeth had taken.

Despite the lofty heights of the seaside cliffs, Elizabeth Darcy metered her breaths to the metronome of crashing waves below. Seagulls cried out in the afternoon sun as they searched the rocks for prey. Resting upon her favorite stoney perch, she opened her eyes as another’s presence disturbed the sunlight beaming down behind her.

“She did so love the sea. I was so cross with her when we sailed here, but Lydia always lived life to the fullest. And I told her at every turn to live less.”

Elizabeth glanced to her right. A small stone marked the spot where her sister laid in peace, far from her childhood home. Although the property possessed an older graveyard for generations of Starvet House masters and staff, it did not seem appropriate to bury Lydia Bennet among them. Both sisters had requested Lydia rest by the sea.

Darcy took a seat next to his bride in black and extended his arm in comfort. “Tell me about your father.”

“My father?” Elizabeth’s tear-streaked face turned to search her husband’s for genuine interest.

He nodded. “I only met him on a handful of occasions, and Jane has told me how you were very close, spending hours in his study.”

Dragging her toe in the grassy stubble at the base of the rock, Elizabeth prepared to once more feel overwhelmed with emotions. “Papa was often accused of treating me as the son he never had. My mother often argued with him regarding my behavior, but he always protected me. On rainy days, we played chess or read together fromShakespeare.”

“He sounds like a man who recognized value when he saw it.”

Elizabeth’s face crumpled. “Oh, Fitzwilliam, I am so sorry I was cross with you earlier. I should not have yelled at you so in front ofanother.”

Darcy rubbed his hand most vigorously against the sleeve of his wife’s dress to warm her. The sun’s zenith long over, the air began to cool around them blowing from the sea. “No harm, madame, came to me from your words. Your silence is when I know I have lost your respect, though, that tongue of yours is sharp.”

He bent forward and pressed his forehead to hers in one of their private shows of affection. Elizabeth took the challenge and scrunched her nose in the impression of a rabbit, eliciting a deep, bellowing laugh from her husband. “I was wrong to dismiss the pain of losing your sister. You are correct, I would never be able to send away a child related to me by blood and I can hardly ask your family to do what I could not.”

For a moment, the newlyweds found solace with the simple physical contact between them, embracing. “Come, it’s growing colder by the hour and we have much to tell our sister.”

Elizabeth allowed her husband to assist her off the rock and tip her chin upwards to bestow a kiss to her lips. The warmth from his care spread from her lips down to her toes, and for a few paces she was utterly distracted by the man. Arriving at a bend in the path where she could now see their home in the distance, she recalled her wonder at Fitzwilliam’s delay in coming to her. Happily, she inquired about the plan he had arrived at concerning their nephew.

“It is only fitting your eldest sister take guardianship of Master Robin and raise him here, at Starvet House.”

Jubilation bubbled from Elizabeth Darcy as she squeezed her husband’s arm in gratitude. “You are the best of husbands and the best of men.”

“You knew I would arrive at the plan you wished all along,” Darcy laughed, revealing he knew of his manipulation at her hands.

“Oh, well, you can hardly fault me for being a good wife who allows her husband to think of ideas on his own.” Elizabeth tucked her lower lip underneath her upper to keep herself from laughing. Her husband’s expression remained unreadable until she felt a distinct pinch to her waist. “Fitzwilliam!”

Darcy laughed. “You’ll be happy to know Mr. Hamilton will reside at Starvet House to help Jane become acquainted with the area and oversee the rebuilding of Blaylock.”

Nearing the edge of the back lawn of Starvet House, Elizabeth suspected Jane would be upset to be handled by someone so unfamiliar to her. But this was hardly the time to fight another battle with her husband when she had most triumphantly won the war.