A Midsummer Christmas

Part 12

"Ah, this is the real reason I enjoy my visits to Pemberley!" Richard declared as he accepted the brandy glass his cousin handed him. "You are certainly more generous in your measures than my brother is." He took a sip and sighed happily. "And your taste is infinitely better!"

"I wager your brother is less extravagant," Darcy conceded, taking a sip of his drink and relishing its flavour. He certainly was not averse to spending money where it mattered, and in the selection and provision of brandy, it mattered.

"He is a dullard, Darcy, let us not beat around the bush." Richard leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "But he is my brother and I love him." He winced. "Although I'm not too desperate to return home to him too quickly. Having heard of my plans to purchase an estate of my own, he has taken hold of the thing and is, even as we speak, compiling list after list of places that might honour the Fitzwilliam name."

Darcy opened his mouth to say something, then closed it without speaking. The question of Richard's future had been on his mind and he had been poised to mention a small estate he, too, was aware of and thought perfectly suitable for the colonel. I had thought to suggest we might ride out and view it. Perhaps now is not the moment! Instead, he nursed his drink and waited for his cousin to speak again.

"You are blessed here, Darcy. Pemberley has always been the most wondrous place to me. Do you know, when we were children, I was half persuaded it was enchanted." Richard's voice had grown misty, lost as he was in a sea of memories. Darcy said nothing, quite content to let his cousin reminisce.

"Your mother, God rest her, was a fairy queen, of course." He smiled. "Always very gracious and benevolent. Your Pa, too. They always seemed so much kinder than my own parents, but perhaps that's because I was not quite such a wretched hell-child to them." He laughed. "My poor parents despaired of me forever getting into scrapes. I suppose they did not expect it, having raised my brother first and him being such a..."

"Dullard?"

"Indeed."

"I am sure my parents and yours would both be proud that we are still here, together."

"Aye, I'm sure they would be proud of you, for continuing their legacy as well as you do. Pemberley thrives!" He eyed Darcy with a mischievous glint in his eye. "And its new mistress seems well-settled here. Celebrating Christmas in midsummer! If that isn't just the kind of fairy queen behaviour that your mother would have encouraged...!"

Darcy smiled at this, thinking that it was not a connection he would have made but appreciating its truth all the same. He had given little thought to his parents since meeting and marrying Elizabeth Bennet but now, confronted with memories and his cousin's suggestions, he could not help but think that they would have approved of his choice.

"Georgiana is as much to blame for that," Darcy conceded.

"Of course! She has inherited her fairy ways from your mother." Richard took another sip of his brandy. "Do not you think she must have something of the magical about her, to draw such music out of the piano the way she does?"

Richard was straying dangerously close to speaking nonsense and Darcy privately decided they would have nothing more to drink but coffee if it could be arranged. Still, there was a comfortable haze about the room, brought on by good food, good drink and good company. He was in no hurry to return to the parlour and be sensible once more.

"What do you think of Georgiana, now that you see her again?" Darcy's question was asked before he considered it. He could not help his curiosity. Ever since Elizabeth had matched the two together in his mind, Darcy had been unable to escape the notion of Georgiana caring for Richard Fitzwilliam - and the way she had blushed and turned away from him at dinner that evening seemed only to give credence to the suggestion. Darcy's stomach turned over. What he could not be certain of was his cousin's feelings for Georgiana. If he is indifferent to her and she loses her heart to him, it will break her a second time. He chewed the inside of his mouth, fighting against the memories of Georgiana's long, slow recovery after her heartbreak at George Wickham's hands. He was not convinced she would rally a second time over another loss. Richard Fitzwilliam is no George Wickham, he reminded himself. No, that was true. Richard would not break Georgiana's heart intentionally. But did accident or intention matter when the result was the same?

"She is like a different person." Richard's voice was so faint that Darcy had almost missed it. He straightened, now intent on listening and discerning, if he could, where his cousin's heart lay.

"When I think how she was after we rescued her from that villain Wickham..." He trailed off, his eyes flashing with anger as they did whenever mention was made of the man who had seduced Georgiana for her dowry. "I was quite concerned, Darcy, I'll admit that. I feared that squirrelling her away here in Pemberley would be the very worst thing you could do. I almost wrote and suggested sending her to Kent. Anne would have been a comfort to her, a friend. Aunt Catherine..." He winced and took another sip of his drink. "I dare say your plan was for the best, and it certainly seems to have worked. Georgiana is herself again. The Georgie I remember!" His smile grew, then faded. A peculiar shadow flickered across his face. "And yet..."

"And yet?" Darcy was too eager. He realised as soon as he spoke that doing so had broken the spell and brought Richard to himself. His cousin shrugged his broad shoulders, finishing his brandy in one mouthful.

"I suppose everyone is changed by time apart." He gave a rakish smile. "I dare say I am looking for older and more weather-beaten than I used to. No more dashing young romantic heroism in my life, I fear. I shall be a crotchety old bachelor, in a perfectly serviceable estate selected for me by my sensible brother." He sighed. "And I shall learn to like it."

Darcy bit his lip to keep from saying anything more. There had been a moment, half a moment, a glimpse and nothing more, but he felt certain he had seen it. Could Richard care for Georgiana? Might he learn to? Perhaps Lizzy is right, after all, and this midsummer celebration will be the very thing to encourage it.